Liberation

Liberation
By Ian W.G. Sparkman

The darkness of night crept upon the little seaside town, the raging ocean slammed into the rocky outcroppings of the shoreline. Not a single light shined on in the town for fear of the soldiers coming to snuff out the hope. No stray animals, not a bird, nor a cat dared to enter this town. Only a solemn young man, with his wife and infant, dared be in the streets at this hour of midnight.

Cloaked, they were, hidden within the shadows of an alleyway in hopes of concealing themselves from the watchful eye's above and below. Air so cold that ice formed upon their lips as the breath froze in their mouths. The young man crouched and looked around the corner, watching the soldiers as they approached the hiding place. He pulled his knife and tensed his muscles, preparing for the conflict imminent.

There were two, he was one, on his side was the training of at one point being one of the elite of them. The soldiers were steadily marching closer with a mere ten feet to go. Thoughts ran through the man's head, his wife and child, fallen family, and the torture endured from men wearing his same uniform.

When the soldiers had stepped past the corner and had their backs to the man he pounced. Grabbing the man farthest from him, he thrust the blade into the temple on the right side of the man's head. Blood spurted from the dead man's wound, the other raised his whistle to his lips as he fumbled for the pistol locked in it's holster on his left hip. The knife slashed deeply across his throat, cutting short the call for help and his life.

The wife, carrying the infant bolted from her shadowed safety to her husband. They ran down the street towards their only hope of freedom, the only chance at liberation. The last obstacle lay at the coastal armaments, thousands of soldiers with machine guns, rifles, and artillery. The man knew of a secluded path through the wooded area next to their town. He took this route in hopes of not being discovered until it was to late for action.

They reached this wooded trail when the alarm sounded within the town. Without warning the small forest around them lit with strobes from above and soldiers could be seen in every direction. The man threw his wife and child to the ground, quickly following. He held a finger to his lips in hopes the child would remain silent. Running footsteps were heard coming close then fading into the distance. Soon after the strobes went out and all fell silent once again.

The man raised up slowly, looking for any danger, when he believed it to be safe once more he helped his wife to her feet and continued on their short journey. After a few steps a muffled popping noise and zip reached his ears. His wife jerked and fell, he caught the child and her and swiftly lowered all to the ground once more. She was dead from a wound in her forehead, the child remained silent. The man did not cry, nor fret, it was not the time or the place.

He placed the child in his arms and painstakingly began the crawl towards the hidden inlet to the waiting boat. He crossed from the wooded are and into the sandy enclosed bay where he could see the boat. He stood and ran towards it as the soldiers broke the wood line behind him and opened fire. The bullet's flew by never hitting the man, he reached the boat and handed over the child. As he began climbing in his life was ended by a well placed shot. The child lived to achieve it's liberation and freedom in a new country and enjoyed the rest of it's life never know the losses it had suffered.