An Army of One

Creg slowly walked down the street, the gun he used just a few moments ago on his back. He looked around at the empty shops, rusted cars... and bodies. Most of them covered with table cloths from the nearest Cafe. And although it was thoughtful of somebody to donate so much of his last moments on such a task the bodies which were in more than two pieces were left alone. From the amount of flies and by the smell you could guess that most of these were lying here for more than a few weeks.

However strange it might seem, these weren't the bodies of troops who defended or attacked the town. These were the civilians.The ones who lived here before the war started, and who were unlucky enough to listen to the Radio and flee as quickly as it was possible. But every few steps he could see the belonging of the people. When they realized what was happening then they tried to run. By the looks and smell, not all succeeded.

This town once had a name, in some foreign language. But after the dark night when peace ended it became only a fortification, obstacle or just some grid on a map. Although each city looked different in architecture, the smell and the corpses were always the same. In a way these were the lucky ones, for those that were caught would be either used as a Meat Shield for one of the armies, as recruits, maybe as workers. Usually they would be questioned and shot. As the gossip in the ranks went, only 1 in a 100 prisoners survived. The truth is, that it was much, much lower than that.

Suddenly something ran through the streets. Creg grabbed his gun and aimed, but he was too late. The street was once again empty. He walked slowly forward pointing his gun in the same direction he looked. Then he stopped. He heard a sound of meat being ripped. He prepared himself and proceeded to the source of the sound. It came from behind an old red SUV, it seems the owners tried to use it, because there were still corpses inside it, their faces completely "mashed", the front wind shield gone, its pieces around the car.

As Creg came closer the noise became louder and when he was just about three steps away the sound stopped, and from behind the car appear a dog. Not a small one, it was big, completely black. The thing which made the situation even more psychopathic was the blood on the dog's face. As it growled on Creg droplets of blood slowly flew down its face to fall on the street. The dog was feeding on corpses, but this did not mean it would not have anything against some fresh meat. It ran at Creg, all teeth like sharp razors preparing to attack. Creg calmly took aim and fired. The single bullet flew at high speed, defeating the distance between Creg and the dog in less than a blink and piercing the dog's skull, still flying forward to hit the street. The dog still flew forward, although dead the little energy left kept it going, only to stop the dog's head next to Creg's left foot.

There would be more of them. Creg knew that. They would eat the corpses, or as many of them as they could. There was no other food and the dogs simply feasted on the dead. When compared to a troop back during WWII in the jungles, they ate the monkeys and bugs. The only thing which was available. Here it is just the same. But unlike back in WWII the dogs have a very limited idea of "organization". They have sometimes a hierarchy, but this is as far as it goes. There are always many lonely beasts, trying to survive on their own. Like a troop in the middle of a desert. Thirst and hunger are his enemies. But he has no help to fight them. He is all alone and must do what he can do best to survive. A bit like Creg now. Behind enemy lines, with no contact with the others. At the moment he had only enemies, and no friends. While somewhere not far away a great war was waged, Creg here had his own little war. A war which had a name, survival. But unlike the dog which just lost this war Creg wasn't planning to surrender and die.

You see, during a war you have a choice. You might try not to join it in the first place. But if you do, there is a number of possibilities. The obvious one is getting shot. But you may die or be captured. Perhaps with some luck you will be recovered by your own men and go back home with injuries. But during a war like this, there are only two options. You will fight, beat the obstacles and survive. Or die, failing everything or just one task. Here there was no expert or officer to say whether you will win or loose. Everything depends on you.

With that thought in mind, Creg walked forward, covering his nose. Trying to protect it from the smell, but his eyes could not be covered that way. The horror attacking him from every side. Most people would go mad, but Creg had a mission to complete. "Survive".