Through the Jungle

 In the fringes of the advancing army, a small kid boasted to his companions about the man he had just shot. Emptying the clip of his automatic pistol into the air, he hit the quick release. He juggled the clip and pistol, and dug his bony fingers deep into the pocket of his shorts, producing a handful of shells. With too many to handle, the rounds fell to the ground. On hands and knees, he quickly searched for his precious ammo. After sliding each bullet in, he seated the clip back into the pistol with a sharp thrust of his palm. A squadron of F16 fighter jets flew overhead in a disorganized formation in the shape of a V. In the direction of the march, the leader of the army froze in horror as he watched each jet unload their cargo of bombs upon what he assumed was his village.
A cloud of smoke rose from above the treetops in a column of black and gray. Some of the younger kids went running towards the village, hoping their friends and family were still alive. Not 10 feet away from the army did the kids get when a mine exploded in a high pitched shriek, sending one of them shooting off in the air in one direction, while his left leg went another. With a couple of flips and twists he came crashing down, smacking his head against a tree. One man ran ahead of the leader to check on the hurt kid. A metal rod shot up from the ground, sending shrapnel in every direction, the leader ducked behind a tree, but the man ahead of him got a direct hit from the blast, his body slumping against the tree, going limp. Checking with a couple of soldiers who also hid behind trees, the leader carefully tiptoed through the minefield, watching his every step while glancing up towards the kids laying on the ground ahead. No sign of movement from any of them, he followed a well-used path in a patch of browning grass to the end. Hearing the clank of weapons dropping to the ground, the leader looked across to the soldiers, seeing them motionless with the hands raised high. He stared forward to see a camouflaged man with his weapon raised. The leader raised his weapon, shouting to the soldiers that there was only one of him. When the weapon reached his shoulder, it dropped suddenly, a numbing feeling growing in the leader’s arm. Dropping his weapon to the ground, the leader reached up and touched the wound, blood covered his arm and fingers. The leader looked back up at the camouflaged man with hate that was soon replaced again with horror as he spotted more men, coming up from behind trees and bushes. A man walked up from behind the leader, shoving a black bag over his head and tied his hands together. Before darkness filled the leaders sight, the first camouflaged man smiled a wicked smile, a torturers smile.

The End

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