Nuclear America
The battle
We awoke the next day, and while most of the day was normal, in the afternoon a devastating event occurred. Sean and I had been fighting once again, when he noticed something off in the distant sky. Then, as the object approached, his eyes grew wide and he yelled for everyone to run. Everyone but Sean and I had retreated into the houses, and Sean told me what the object was. It was a rocket, heading at us extremely fast, coming from a soldier’s M202A1 Multishot Rocket Launcher. I ordered for him to throw me up in the air, as I was hoping to block the rocket from hitting anyone. By some stroke of luck, I was in the path of the rocket, and it struck me. It exploded on contact, and the force of the explosion blew me back. I landed on the ground, but got up and ran back over to Sean, completely unharmed.
“What was that?!” I said.
“That was a rocket.”
“Oh…Well, why was someone shooting rockets at us?”
“Hmmm, lets think about that one. Well, the might want to kill us…”
“Oh ya, forgot about that.”
“You’re a quick one, aren’t you?”
“Lets just shut up and find out who’s shooting at us, okay?”
“Alright.” And with that, we set off to find our saboteur.
What we found was not a saboteur; it was an entire brigade, guns raised, at us! Sean and I looked at each other and tensed ourselves for fight or flight. After a standoff of a few minutes, I grabbed Sean’s shirt and flung him most of the way back to the houses. He skidded and got up, looked at me, and started to run to the houses. I stood, facing the soldiers while Sean and the others climbed down into the bomb shelters. The brigade expected to shoot me down before I knew what was going on, but their bullets once again bounced off of me and the ricochet hit a few of their own me, injuring a few but not killing any. The astonished soldiers ceased fire for a moment, but continued shortly after, thinking that this was a limited power and it would end sometime. I was worried that this might be true, but nonetheless I slowly walked toward the brigade, hands in pockets, with my head high. Every last bullet bounced off me and more soldiers were injured, this time there were several deaths. The fire finally stopped, and I figured that they were either going to retreat or bring out the heavy artillery.
I was wrong. Some of the soldiers, the front lines, dropped their guns, figuring that bullets wouldn’t hurt me. They unsheathed their curved sword, and tried to cut me down. After multiple ineffective hits, I grabbed a slashing sword and broke it. The astonished soldier just stood there until I stabbed him with the broken end of the blade. He looked down at his chest where he had been stabbed and fell to the ground. It was then that I stopped being nice and merciful to the soldiers.
I took another sword, this time not breaking it, and spun around, cutting open all of the soldiers. They fell to the ground too, looking up in amazement that a kid like me could kill all of them in one move. I took another one of the curved swords and placed it in my left hand. I then ran up to the rest of the brigade with two swords and slashed at them.
I had taken out almost an entire section when one of the higher-ranking officers blocked one of my hits with his own sword. I smiled as I had finally found a good opponent, and fell back onto the ground from my downstrike. To make the fight somewhat fair, I dropped my left-hand sword and poised myself for an attack. We both knew that it would make no difference if I got hit or not. I couldn’t be hurt. The fight was merely for our pleasure, and possibly to wear down my power. Whatever the means, we went into starting positions, me in my stabbing position, and him in a basic starting position, sword facing me at an angle. We shared a stare, and I lashed out with a stab at his head. He sidestepped and brought his sword down on me in a normally lethal strike. But I rolled to the side and got in a crouching position. I knew now that I was facing a master of the art, and I smiled at the thought; I wanted to see how I measured up to a master, even if I couldn’t be hurt. The soldier lunged forward in a stab, but I brought my sword up in an uppercut. Clanging loudly, the soldier’s sword flew up, but he stopped it and brought it down in another downstrike. I had barely enough time to bring my sword over my head to avoid getting hit. Sparks flew and we leaped from each other’s sword. Again we stood, determination in our eyes. For a moment we circled, and then he lashed out at a 90-degree angle. I ducked and as he passed over me I turned on my heels and cut him on the back. I wasn’t able to damage him much; he was moving too fast to get a good hit. Blood dripped slowly down the soldier’s back, but it wasn’t much of a problem, he considered this a scratch. But even if it was a scratch, no one had ever wounded him on the back. The soldier believed that I could have killed him at that moment, and he didn’t know why I did not do so. But he faced me once more, but I had lowered my blade. He reluctantly lowered his as well, and asked what I was doing.
“Well, I think this is called sparing you.”
“But why?” He responded.
“Because I like you. You’re good with a sword and I would like to enjoy one of these battles again. I also want to learn some moves and better my technique.”
“Okay then…”
“Well, are you going to come back with me and call for your troops to retreat, or have me kill all of you?”
“I-I don’t know what to say…”
“You could accept my offer.” I said sarcastically.
“Alright, if it’s to save my troops, I’ll accept your offer and come along. I am Major Simmons.”
“Well, Major, welcome aboard the train.”
“Thanks. Regiment Four! Retreat to base!” With that, about 300 soldiers retreated, running away from the battlefield. The rest of the soldiers stayed where they were, but I could see that they wanted dearly to run with Major Simmons’ regiment. I heard a single cry-
“Retreat!” All of the soldiers ran full speed after Simmons’ regiment, so I figured that the voice was whoever was in command of all of the troops. In their haste, the soldiers trampled over their own men and crushed some to death. Simmons and I watched this in disgust, and turned away. Simmons insisted that I call him just Simmons instead of Major Simmons because he didn’t want to be called by army ranking now that he was with us. I led Simmons to where everyone was hiding after the battle and opened the bomb shelter doors.
“What was that?!” I said.
“That was a rocket.”
“Oh…Well, why was someone shooting rockets at us?”
“Hmmm, lets think about that one. Well, the might want to kill us…”
“Oh ya, forgot about that.”
“You’re a quick one, aren’t you?”
“Lets just shut up and find out who’s shooting at us, okay?”
“Alright.” And with that, we set off to find our saboteur.
What we found was not a saboteur; it was an entire brigade, guns raised, at us! Sean and I looked at each other and tensed ourselves for fight or flight. After a standoff of a few minutes, I grabbed Sean’s shirt and flung him most of the way back to the houses. He skidded and got up, looked at me, and started to run to the houses. I stood, facing the soldiers while Sean and the others climbed down into the bomb shelters. The brigade expected to shoot me down before I knew what was going on, but their bullets once again bounced off of me and the ricochet hit a few of their own me, injuring a few but not killing any. The astonished soldiers ceased fire for a moment, but continued shortly after, thinking that this was a limited power and it would end sometime. I was worried that this might be true, but nonetheless I slowly walked toward the brigade, hands in pockets, with my head high. Every last bullet bounced off me and more soldiers were injured, this time there were several deaths. The fire finally stopped, and I figured that they were either going to retreat or bring out the heavy artillery.
I was wrong. Some of the soldiers, the front lines, dropped their guns, figuring that bullets wouldn’t hurt me. They unsheathed their curved sword, and tried to cut me down. After multiple ineffective hits, I grabbed a slashing sword and broke it. The astonished soldier just stood there until I stabbed him with the broken end of the blade. He looked down at his chest where he had been stabbed and fell to the ground. It was then that I stopped being nice and merciful to the soldiers.
I took another sword, this time not breaking it, and spun around, cutting open all of the soldiers. They fell to the ground too, looking up in amazement that a kid like me could kill all of them in one move. I took another one of the curved swords and placed it in my left hand. I then ran up to the rest of the brigade with two swords and slashed at them.
I had taken out almost an entire section when one of the higher-ranking officers blocked one of my hits with his own sword. I smiled as I had finally found a good opponent, and fell back onto the ground from my downstrike. To make the fight somewhat fair, I dropped my left-hand sword and poised myself for an attack. We both knew that it would make no difference if I got hit or not. I couldn’t be hurt. The fight was merely for our pleasure, and possibly to wear down my power. Whatever the means, we went into starting positions, me in my stabbing position, and him in a basic starting position, sword facing me at an angle. We shared a stare, and I lashed out with a stab at his head. He sidestepped and brought his sword down on me in a normally lethal strike. But I rolled to the side and got in a crouching position. I knew now that I was facing a master of the art, and I smiled at the thought; I wanted to see how I measured up to a master, even if I couldn’t be hurt. The soldier lunged forward in a stab, but I brought my sword up in an uppercut. Clanging loudly, the soldier’s sword flew up, but he stopped it and brought it down in another downstrike. I had barely enough time to bring my sword over my head to avoid getting hit. Sparks flew and we leaped from each other’s sword. Again we stood, determination in our eyes. For a moment we circled, and then he lashed out at a 90-degree angle. I ducked and as he passed over me I turned on my heels and cut him on the back. I wasn’t able to damage him much; he was moving too fast to get a good hit. Blood dripped slowly down the soldier’s back, but it wasn’t much of a problem, he considered this a scratch. But even if it was a scratch, no one had ever wounded him on the back. The soldier believed that I could have killed him at that moment, and he didn’t know why I did not do so. But he faced me once more, but I had lowered my blade. He reluctantly lowered his as well, and asked what I was doing.
“Well, I think this is called sparing you.”
“But why?” He responded.
“Because I like you. You’re good with a sword and I would like to enjoy one of these battles again. I also want to learn some moves and better my technique.”
“Okay then…”
“Well, are you going to come back with me and call for your troops to retreat, or have me kill all of you?”
“I-I don’t know what to say…”
“You could accept my offer.” I said sarcastically.
“Alright, if it’s to save my troops, I’ll accept your offer and come along. I am Major Simmons.”
“Well, Major, welcome aboard the train.”
“Thanks. Regiment Four! Retreat to base!” With that, about 300 soldiers retreated, running away from the battlefield. The rest of the soldiers stayed where they were, but I could see that they wanted dearly to run with Major Simmons’ regiment. I heard a single cry-
“Retreat!” All of the soldiers ran full speed after Simmons’ regiment, so I figured that the voice was whoever was in command of all of the troops. In their haste, the soldiers trampled over their own men and crushed some to death. Simmons and I watched this in disgust, and turned away. Simmons insisted that I call him just Simmons instead of Major Simmons because he didn’t want to be called by army ranking now that he was with us. I led Simmons to where everyone was hiding after the battle and opened the bomb shelter doors.