A man wanders through a destroyed world trying to find new meaning for himself and for the new world that will eventually rise from the ashes of the catastrophe that has reset world.
For me holding a gun was something I never really envisioned for myself. The thought never occurred to me either I would have a natural talent for it either. But living to see both halves of the twenty first century has taught me what you may think or have thought and what has and has been or will be are not exclusively mutual or certain. One that was though was necessity. Necessity will forge you into what you need to be or leave you behind. And that's why I was standing here today holding tightly onto the handle of weathered pistol. The barrel was heating the cold crisp winter air around it. A trail of vapor and smoke escaping from one end as the man on the other examined a new hole that placed itself neatly between his shoulders and his chest. It had always felt easy to pull the trigger, it had to be. But somehow everyday it got easier.
I remembered the first day I had to pull a trigger to take a life. It was when the dogs of war had been let loose and human speech had been turned to thundering of bombs, the roar of machinery and the rattling of gun fire. I didn't want to die was the only thought, as brothers and sisters in arms were felled by the gunfire around me. I don't want to die, So they're going to have to. I peaked to the right of my cover found a target and pulled the trigger. I didn't hate that man or most of the list of the countless others that met their end to my gun I just didn't want to die. So I made a transaction with death theirs for mine.
The man's knee's bent his own gun clattered onto the surface of ice noisily. Their was two other men reaching for their own fire arms now. I shot the man to the right in the head as the man to the left took a shot at me with his pistol . I could felt the bullet zip by my face missing me by lucky inches. The man darted off behind the sled taking two or three more sloppy shots. Too bad for him had he not lost his cool he probably would've had me. I rolled to the left as I saw his arm poke out from behind the sled. More shots rang out. Crawling along the surface of the lake I got beside the cart and placing two shots in his shoulders. He screamed bloody murder dropping his gun and begging for his life. Lowering my pistol I pitied the man. Necessity had brought him here but didn't give him the will to hold on. I grabbed the man's sweater turning him to face me while holding my gun close enough to know I meant business but far enough from his face to tell him I wouldn't outright murder him.
"I will ask again I saw some men with the same insignia dragging off a family a few days ago. Where did they take them?"