The end (?)

Day 2,003, 08:28 • Published in United Kingdom United Kingdom • by Henry Hank Moody

Has the last chapter of this tale come to an end? We shall see.

As we passed the bodies of those Irish soldiers, I was busy scanning the trees pressing in around us. My mind was swimming in an ocean of adrenaline, everything seemed heightened, brighter and somehow, slower.

So it was in slow motion that I saw my death coming towards me. I couldn’t do a damned thing but watch and take it in. I saw the enemy, a middle-aged Irishman with a grey beard and a nasty looking burn over half his face, hold up the grenade and with a smile on his face scream “f**k you” with the very last breath he would ever take.

The grenade explosion and the cause of my death happened within a second, but to my eyes it took an eternity. I saw the shell of the grenade peel back like the skin of an orange. The beast it gave birth to came into the world with a giant roar and a skin made of flames and heat.



I saw Axeell fly through the air, one leg disintegrated and a scream exploding from his throat, his chest a mess of spurting blood and broken ribs, I could even see his heart beating in his chest as he disappeared out of sight over the trench wall.

By the time my friend was gone from my sight I felt myself being lifted off the ground from the force of the explosion. Shrapnel spat into my chest, bright red drops of blood spun into the air, glistening in the noonday sun and despite myself, I thought it looked beautiful.

And then the pain hit me. I had been shot more than once in the past, and let me tell you they hurt more than I could have ever thought possible. But flying through the air after being rocked by a grenade, with shrapnel barrelling into my chest and the flames and heat cooking my skin to a crisp I screamed louder than I ever thought possible. I closed my eyes and screamed again. I was flying through the air, my body ripped apart by the explosion, leaving a trail of blood droplets sparkling in the sunlight.

And then I smashed into the ground, I felt my legs bend beneath me, the bone piercing my skin and my back cracked against a rock.

The blackness pressed against me and I surrendered to it.



The next thing I knew I was being lifted into a helicopter, two medics pressing against my chest and shouting something incoherent to the pilot. I tried to lift my head up but a strap held me down fast.

My head swam, my vision moving from left to right without ever staying put. It was like being drunk but with an intense pain making me want to move and scream just to have some outlet for what was going on in my body.

“Relax Sergeant. These men are trying to save you. If you thrash about, you won’t be helping yourself.” The face was silhouetted against the beating heat of the sun.

“Who?”

“The names General Rodney Mckay. Commander of Legion. Now relax soldier. That's an order”

“Axeell. He was in the blast.” It hurt me to talk, excruciating agony really, but I had to know.

“I’m sorry.” The blackness swept over me again.