Chapter One: Against The Wall

Bang. Bang. Bang. With his blindfold on and his back against the wall, Chris stood. He just stood silently and waited. Soon enough the gun would be pointed at him and everything he was would pass. No more pain; no more discomfort. Actually, of all the walls he had ever leaned on, Chris found this to be one of the most comfortable. Chris had made his peace with his past and, whether it could be justified or not, his part in this whole mess.

The Royal Magistrate had decreed that the sixteen acre plot of land just south of the capital was to be “converted”. That meant that the land was to be ripped up, all the way down to the bedrock, flipped, and mulched. This was a common process the Royalty used to make full use of the long growing season, but it left the land’s inhabitants a little put-out. Chris and his family had been some of those very inhabitants. It really wasn’t his fault. Chris’s son had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time three years ago, when the Royal Enforcers had stormed in on the meeting of a Confederate combatant faction known as the Green Arm. They called themselves Confederates, but they were terrorists. It was really that simple. If you asked one of them they may have put up a stink about it, but what else do you call an underground society of disgruntled mining and farming experts who put their resources and skills to use against the governing body? 

Chris had not been with his family when the decree was given. That had happened three weeks after the fall of the Green Arm. He was already in Royal custody. The conversion decree had been the fastest command of Royal legislature ever carried out. It was a signal to all who considered joining the Confederate factions: Don’t. The Royalty would, apparently, not tolerate the existence of Confederates within their territories, nor their families. Case closed.

Bang. It took all the energy Chris had left not jump at the sound of each gunshot. He could not show weakness. The Royalty had already accused him of being, and assumed him to be, a member of the G.A.C. Why not act like one? A puff of dirt flew into the air. BANG! Chris thought that shot sounded different than the others. It seemed bigger, but farther away. Immediately following the odd gunshot there was a commotion from the Enforcers. Chris heard them scrambling and then heard the sound of about four rifles take fire. BANG! There it was again. Now there was one less rifle sound, too. Chris wondered if it was a coincidence, or maybe there were more G.A.C. out there. It didn’t seem likely. All of a sudden Chris felt someone grab at his shirt. The person dragged him about twenty feet, and then pulled him back against them. Chris realized he was being used as a shield, and was surprisingly grateful for his blindfold. Chris felt the shot before he heard it. BANG! It bit through the higher muscles in his left arm, and the person who had been holding him was replaced by a large warm spray of blood. It was then that Chris stumbled. Pain rushed through his arm and he felt dizzy. He had never been shot before, but he was certain that he should not have still been standing. BANG! The shot rang in Chris’s ears, and then there was silence. 

Chris hesitantly reached up with his right arm, and removed his blindfold. He squinted against the light and, when his eyes adjusted, saw a walled field with eight corpses lying in the grass, four of them were Enforcers. Chris quickly used his blindfold to wrap his injury as best he could, and when he looked up saw three men in grey and red light-battle gear. One of them held a very large sniper rifle. As Chris stared in awe, the leading soldier tapped the side of his helmet and his visor retracted. The soldier looked at one of the displays on his wrist, looked at Chris and said, “Dr. Christopher Michaels? You have to come with us.”

Chris gawked at the soldiers in grey and red, and quickly realized that their armor was just grey. The red was blood. “You have to come with us,” the leading soldier repeated. “Now,” he added. Chris finally managed to speak. “Who are you?” was all he could get out. The soldier just tapped his helmet again and his dark eyes were hidden behind his visor once more. The soldier wielding the rather large sniper rifle motioned with his head that Chris should follow, and started to walk away with his comrades. Chris was confused, and he was in pain. His whole left side was screaming in protest with every breath, and it was starting to get to him. Chris’s head was spinning, and when he tried to take a step away from the soldiers, he fell to the ground. The third soldier turned to see if Chris was following and stopped the others when he saw the body. The three went back to where Chris lay in the dirt and saw the pool of blood, sickly red on the green grass. The leading soldier checked the wound on Chris’s upper arm. He tapped his visor up, and looked at the sniper. “D****t James… You hit the artery.” He sighed. James looked at him and just said, “Sorry, boss. Small targets.” They got up, and turned to walk back the way they came. They left Chris’s body in the grass with the prisoners and the four purple and blue clad Enforcers.

Reviews

[NinjaPi]

Nice chapter. "Chris quickly used his blindfold to wrap his injury as best he could, and when he looked up saw three men in grey and red light-battle gear." This sentence is a bit awkward. Try dropping the and and making this two sentences. Also the phrase "he looked up saw the three men..." should be either "up and saw" or "looked up, saw..., (some other action)" Other than that you should consider adding more details pertaining to the setting unless you are planning to add that in very soon elsewhere in the book. keep it up this book seems very exciting.

[Jess Holden]

I love it!! cant wait to read more :)