Accidents Made Right 1: Pistanthrophobia

C’mon, can this thing go any slower?

My foot rapidly tapped the floor of the tank as every bone in my body dreaded the next few minutes.

“What’s their status?”

“Seriously?!” Issac complained, “You just asked that. They’re fine.”

“How do you know?! Rob and Elizabeth aren’t here, and Rob alone accounts for far over half our military power!”

“But we shouldn’t rely on him. That’s why we have other, well-trained soldiers as well. Including myself.”

“Except you were in the U.S. military, for years before you joined us. You have more experience than almost any man here!”

Dylan laughed.

“What?”

“Yeah. Any man.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your mom, well… she’s always been… weird. She’s gone toe-to-toe with Robert himself, and won.”

“Oh… crap. Didn’t Robert nearly beat Rob to death?”

Dylan nodded across the tank from me.

“And she had zero fighting experience prior,” Issac added.

“Wow… how could that even be possible—”

Boom!

The entire tank rocked, as explosions could be heard everywhere outside. I roughly gripped the seat beneath me to keep myself steady.

“Fuck! The rest of this journey’s gonna be rough!”

“No shit Sherlock!” Dylan yelled sarcastically.

“Steve! Can you spot where the cannons are coming from for me?!”

“Yes sir!”

I stood up, and went to the middle of the tank chassis, where the bottom of a vehicle binocular was waiting for me. I grabbed the handles, and scanned the area as I looked through them.

“30 meters northwest!”

Gears began to turn, before stopping just before the entire tank rocked back for a second, and something exploded soon after.

“What are you doing?! He’s just a kid!”

“Relax Dylan! It’s not like he’s the one firing the shots! Besides, he has the best eyes out of everyone!”

Crack!

“Brace yourselves,” Issac screamed.

After a second, Dylan and I were thrown across the chassis, my back slamming into where I was sitting previously.

“Shit! It won’t respond anymore!”

For a second, I laid my hand on the sword’s handle, and red electricity shot in every direction.

Before I knew it, we were standing on the outside of the tank, allowing us to see that one of the treads was stuck in a trench.

I looked around the battlefield. Explosions, gunfire, and burnt surroundings took up everything within sight. It was a bloodbath.

“They’re climbing up!” Issac shouted.

As he said this, a soldier climbed up my side of the tank, and I realized that Dylan and Issac were on the other side.

Closing my eyes, I swung the sword in any direction, and I felt something splash across my face.

I already knew what it was, but I was terrified to open my eyes and look. But, curiosity eventually overtook me.

I saw a soldier, one of Robert’s, with his left hip completely split apart, leaving a missing chunk of the meat.

The skin that was sliced off was splattered across the tank next to the dead soldier.

A sickening liquid shot down my throat, and out my mouth, flooding the very bottom of my feet.

Crack!

I made great effort to look up, and saw a flash of light. A mortar had been fired. And, judging by the trajectory… it was coming straight for us.

I struggled to grab the sword of creation, and I held it tight to my chest as I repeated a single thought.

Take me to my parents. My family.

Red electricity sparked once again, and in a blink, the three of us were inside a trench, about half a football field’s distance away from the camp, which was all the way up a hill.

I fell to the ground, dropping the sword as every muscle of mine became practically useless.

Feeling nothing but my own heavy breath, I looked back, and saw the tank with enemy soldiers strewn atop it, who could only watched as the incoming mortar was about to end their lives.

Boom!

I’ll admit, watching those soldiers burst apart or into flame, it was… relieving. They worked for an animalistic monster who deserved the worst forms of torture one can penalize someone with.

“Aaa!”

I spun around, only to see Dylan being lifted off the ground by a large man, holding him by the neck. Issac was staring at the man, two long swords in his hands.

Screaming, Issac leapt forward, stabbing the man in his shoulders. Grunting in pain, the man slapped Issac away, into the wall of the trench.

I turned my gaze to the sword, just laying a few yards in front of me. So close… yet so far.

I tried to urge my body to move forward, but it wouldn’t. I screamed at it to move, but it resisted.

I looked back, seeing Dylan scream a primal rage, poking his thumbs into the soldier’s eyes.

“Ah! You fucking little shit!”

The soldier pounded Dylan’s face into the ground, before slamming his elbow into Dylan’s gut.

At the same time, Issac finally managed to recover, so he picked up one of his swords, ran up, and stabbed the soldier in his right arm.

Before the soldier could react, Dylan took a knife out of his boot and stabbed the soldier’s left leg with it.

I was finally strong enough to start moving my arm, so, using every ounce of strength I had in it, I slowly pulled myself to the sword.

Unfortunately, the soldier started getting the upper hand. He slammed his head back into Issac’s forehead, knocking him off. Then, he kicked Dylan in the nose, before grabbing the back of his neck and throwing him into a nearby wall.

Grunting, the soldier stood up, blood dripping down his sides, as he slowly unholstered a magnum from his pocket, aiming it at Dylan.

Desperate to protect his secret crush, Issac rushed forward, but the soldier spun around and pistol whipped Issac in the head, knocking him down.

Almost there… just a couple more inches.

But it was too late. The soldier picked up Issac’s other dropped sword, and walked back to Issac as he tried to stand up. The soldier kicked him down, and stabbed him in the back, straight through the spine.

“NOOO,” I shrieked.

I grabbed the sword and flung it in the direction of the soldier. It felt weightless, and acted like it too. It practically glided through the air, going straight through the soldier’s neck.

For a split second, because of how easily I was able to throw it, I was afraid I’d lose the sword. But when I blinked… it was right in front of me. I looked at the soldier, and his neck was still completely torn through… it was almost like the sword had teleported back to me.

I picked up the sword, and used it to help myself stand. Once I was balanced, I remembered.

I immediately ran to check on Issac… but Dylan was holding his body.

“I… love… you…” Issac moaned, resting his hand on Dylan’s cheek.

With tears streaming down his cheeks, Dylan replied “I love you too… I’m so, so sorry.”

…

“Dylan,” I asked, scared.

“Go. See that your parents are still alive.”

“B-but… what about—”

“I SAID FUCKING GO!”

I stepped back, nothing but fear in my thoughts, until the sword teleported me all the way to the camp. I was now inside the very same tent where my father sent me to collect water from the river.

The table in the middle of the tent was gone, and men and women alike were running down either side of the tent, with my father and mother packing up a bag in the middle where the planning table used to be.

I slowly approached them, and as soon as my father saw me, he ran up and hugged me with nearly all his strength.

“Steve! I’m so relieved that you’re safe…”

I sniffled, to which he stared with concern into my eyes as he caressed my cheeks.

“What’s wrong?”

“Issac… he’s…”

In that next moment, I saw something I’d never see before. All hope had left my father’s eyes in but a second.

“No! Fuck!” He yelled, grabbing a Smith and Wesson next to the backpack and throwing it to the ground, busting up the barrel.

“James! I know this is bad… but not in front of Steve,” my mother yelled.

“You’re right honey. I’m sorry…”

They rested their foreheads against each other’s for a second, before my father turned back to me.

“Look… son. We probably won’t make it past this day. Which is why we’re sending you away.”

“I-I… what?”

“I know I’ve… never been there for you when you needed me to. And I’m… nothing I’ll ever do will make up for the time I sacrificed. Just… do me a favor, okay?”

Still unable to process what I was being told, I instinctually nodded.

“Survive. Live as best as you can with Rowan…”

“Wait! How do you know about… us being friends,” I asked, choking on the last part.

“Because… we organized you two to meet each other in the first place.”

…

My father hugged me, whispered goodbye, then stood up, glancing at the sword I was holding tightly to my chest, before turning around and handing me the backpack.

“You ready to go out with a bang,” he said to my mom, who was loading a shotgun.

“You know it.”

Then, my mother walked over to me, kissed me on the forehead, and whispered something in my ear. Something I’d always remember.

“Even after we’re gone, we’ll still be watching over you. Never forget that.”

…

As they rushed outside to join the battle, I just stood there, finally realizing what was happening.

I was alone. Not just then… I had always been alone.

But that won’t always be the case, Steve.