The Owl

"This will never end, I don't know why we continue to try."

"Because this, brother, is our home. We fight to the bitter end."

"They've already won, is this not the end?"

Alexei sighed, dissatisfied with Jason's answer.

"It is not the end, brother. We have many more fights to come before the end. Think of those that came before us, who died before us. They fought to the end. We must endure, should we falter and believe it is lost, then surely, it will be lost." Alexei paused, "Should you see their faces again, then know, yes, it is the end."

Jason looked up from the quietly crackling fire, his face dirtied from the dust and grime of the city. His eyes slowly clicked from right to left, surveying the landscape before him. Broken buildings with smoke billowing from deep within, glass littering the landscape. Fires raged on, relentlessly consuming what was left of home. His home.

"What'd you do, before the strike?" asked Alexei.

"I worked in an office. I.. I use to be someone that worked with people. You know, Human Resources. I never thought I'd be in this kind of shit." Jason explained.

"Ah, so you are a people person after all! Ha-Ha! So that is why you stick around with Ol' Alexei, eh! Well, for a people person, you make great conversation; however you are terrible for tea!" Alexei exclaimed with excitement in his voice.

Jason smiled.

Alexei, stood up. His clothes, dirty, tattered, and in need of repair, fluttered in the breeze. He was a thin, older man, with a scraggly beard. His glasses, as thick as his accent, reflected the fires on the horizon. It had been some time since he had company. Holed up in a parking garage, now a forward post for what had been left of this country's military, had been his home during the Strike.

Jason, leaned over to pick up his tea cup from the ground. Though it was cold, he thought it polite to still take a sip. If it hadn't been for his penential thoughts, he'd have a hot drink.

"Ah, now there we are! It's good for the soul they say!" Alexei grinned, looking back at Jason.

Jason, swished the tea around in the cup. His eyes focused on the tea as it circulated around the brim, in deep thought.

"Ah, well, I see it's not quite good enough for the mind. At ease brother, you did what you could."

Jason stopped moving his cup, the tea continued to circle about the brim.

"Just know that you will see them again in the end, my brother." Alexei said, solemnly.

The tea now still, Jason gently set it upon the floor. He stood up, the dust falling from his rucksack, and from the creases of his uniform.

Jason was a tall man, his shoulders broad and his back straight. He was the epitome of a soldier, the last man left in his squad. He turned to the parking rows behind him in the garage, their bodies laid out, arms crossed upon the rifles on their chest.

"If I knew, they'd be her-" before Jason could finish, Alexei interrupted,

"My brother, if you knew; then you wouldn't have come here."

Jason sighed, walking over to his fallen comrades.

"We would've been better prepared." he responded, quietly.

Looking at his comrades, Jason bends down, reaching for a vest, thumbing the pocket.

"Sorry Grassey, just the way the dice rolled bud."

Retrieving a pack of cigarettes, Jason turns back to Alexei.

"Smoke?"

"No, brother. The men I knew who smoked, died with a hole in their throat. Tea is my only vice, that is if you ask my wife!" laughed Alexei.

"Where is your wife, Alexei?" pondered Jason.

"Well, when the Strike happened, we ran like everyone else," responded Alexei, his smile slowly fading. "One of strikes hit, I don't remember much. I cried for her, and as I saw the buildings fall, I made way for here."

Jason looked around the parking garage. In the stairwell he could see a lean to, with few scavenged supplies.

"I've been here for some time. I don't know how much time, but long enough to see some of the fires burn out. It wasn't until you and your comrades had shown up that I had seen anybody. I was almost afraid I wouldn't have enough tea!" Alexei joked.

The sun hung low in the horizon. As it began to dip, gunfire erupts in the distance. The two men turn their direction to the noise.

"Ah, the orchestra of rifles! Certainly a lovely melody, I could almost sing to it!" Alexei said, smiling.

"Quite the joker, aren't you?" Jason said quietly with a smile.

"What is it they say, ah yes, humor is the best of medicine! Right?"

"I believe the expression goes laughter is the best medicine, Alexei."

"Close enough!" Alexei exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air.

As the two joked, a rifle shot breaks the silence. The sound of the round hitting the concrete echoes through the garage.

"Jesus, get down!" Jason shouts, tackling Alexei to the ground.

"Stay the fuck down, I've lost enough friends today!"

Jason pushes off Alexei, grabbing his rifle. He pulls back the charging handle, loading a round into the chamber. He crawls over to a barrier, peering over. Just as he does, another round chips off the concrete, startling him, the dust kicks up as rounds collide around him.

The barrage continues for what seems as an eternity. Looking up he sees Alexei, now up, running over to the bodies of his fallen troop. Alexei picks up a rifle, and slides over to Jason.

"You may have lost enough brothers, but I have lost enough wives! I fight with you, to the end brother!"

Suddenly, a rocket comes over, impacting with the ceiling above them, knocking them both down.

"Jesus fuck!" Exclaimed Jason knocked over by the blast. "Alexei, where are you!?"

Alexei, thrown much further than Jason, tries to regain his bearing from being concussed. His ears ringing, dazed, he looks up into the rafters of the parking garage. He sees a white figure, with large black eyes looking back at him. For a moment, he is confused. Though he is concussed, and his ears are ringing so loud, he can not make out anything around him, he knows what he sees. A single barn owl, perched in the rafters.

"This is our home, this is OUR. Home." Alexei says, softly to himself.

Jason, picking his rifle back up, pushes his body back up against the barrier, in between the volleys returning fire.

"You motherfuckers want a piece of me, come and get it!" he screams through clenched teeth. "I'll take every one of you down with me!" he bellows.

Alexei, picking himself up, shambles over to the rifle he had picked up earlier. In a fog, he falls down to his butt, his eyes feel heavy. He tries to load the rifle, and in doing do so, feels himself start to fall asleep. His eyes close, his body heavy.

"Why.. I can't... I..." he murmurs.

Jason, heavily engaged in the fighting, sits down behind cover to reload. He looks to Alexei, who is slumped against another barrier down from him.

"Fuck, Alexei! Wake up man! C'mon, C'mon," Jason says to himself, shifting from cover to Alexei. "You gotta get up Alexei, you gotta get up!"

Alexei's eyes slowly open, "Ah, yes... brother.. it.. you.."

"Fuck, your hit," Jason states, as he grabs Alexei by the arms.

Jason shifts Alexei around, finding the wound inside Alexei's right thigh.

"Ah fuck, its femoral, I don't.. shit!" Jason exclaims. He thumbs through his vest, finding his personal first aid kit. Unzipping it, he pulls out a tourniquet.

"Sorry Alexei, but I'm gonna need you for a bit longer,' Jason explains while applying the tourniquet, 'You'll have to expire at a later date."

As the gunfire ensues, Jason can hear footsteps coming up the ramp of the parking garage.

"Fuck, I thought I had a little more time," he says, thumbing through his vest again. Pulling from one pocket a syringe, and from another pouch a grenade, he bites the cap of the syringe off, spitting it out, and plunging the needle into Alexeis left thigh. As quick as he had done so, he pulls the pin from the grenade, lobbing it down the ramp of the parking garage.

Alexei's eyes snap open, as he gasps for air.

"What is happening brother!" He pleads between choking for air.

"You just about bled out on me, here, take these!" Jason explains, rushing to a dead comrade to pull his grenade belt. "You toss them down the ramp, I'll keep them at bay from the barrier!" He continues, handing the belt over to the sitting Alexei.

Jason rushes to another barrier, periodically firing back as rounds impact the ceiling, and pillars around him.

Alexei looks down at the grenade belt. 7 grenades, one empty pouch. He pulls one out, looking at it. He had never seen a grenade from outside his home country before.

"Brother, what do I do with these?" he asked, cautiously.

"You pull the fucking pin and throw them, and for god sakes, don't let go of it until you throw, or you'll fuck us both!" Jason callously shouted, "Just pull the pin and throw!"

Alexei, the idea still foreign to him, slowly removed the pin from the grenade. His hand trembling, he tossed it haphazardly down the ramp. "Ah shit!" he heard from the level below, cut short by an explosion. Alexei flinched, as the detonation of the grenade sent shrapnel ricocheted back up the ramp off the columns.

"Now you're getting it!" Jason laughed, still returning fire between the volleys from the opposing force.

Alexei, beginning to feel his body weigh heavily upon him, knew that he wasn't long for the world.

"Natalia, my love for you is beyond this life. If you're still out there, please forgive me. If you are looking down upon me, know that I will be with you soon." he whispered to himself.

The gunfire, while immense, was beginning to increase. Alexei looked to Jason, who while focused on the firefight, would pause to reload, occasionally yelling something to Alexei. However, Alexei was in thought. He looked over the grenade belt. Six grenades, two empty pouches. He knew what had to be done. He pushed himself up against the barrier, taking his left hand and throwing it over his right shoulder, he grabbed the top of the barrier, twisting his body so he could see over it.

As he peered over the barrier, he could see the sun had been consumed by most of the horizon. The dusk was nearly over, and night would soon fall. He inched his head up slowly, as to not draw attention to himself.

This wasn't simply a firefight, it was a cleansing. He could see down low, men in black uniforms, black plate carriers, black vests, and black masks, firing their rifles upon the parking garage. He could see men with tanks strapped to their backs, scorching the earth, and the bodies below. Anything and everything.

On their arm, the insignia of a chess piece, the Rook.

He sat back down, feeling defeated. There wasn't anything he could do. His injury prevented him from walking, and though he was armed, he felt so weak he couldn't pick up his rifle. He looked to the grenade belt one last time. Six grenades, two empty pouches. Suddenly, he sparked an idea. He looked at his right tattered sleeve, and pulled a few long threads from it. He tied the thread to the first grenade. Giving the it a couple of test pulls, the thread seemed strong enough to pull the pin. He pulled more threads from his right sleeve, tying them off to the other five grenades.

Alexei looked to Jason. Jason, in the middle of reloading, looked to Alexei, shouting. Alexei couldn't hear over the firefight, instead, he closed his eyes, reached for the barrier, and before Jason could do anything, pulled himself over it.

He felt weightless, and suddenly hit the ground, shoulder first, rolling onto his back. Dazed, his shoulder broken, his leg wounded, and his life fleeting, he looked to the men, dressed in black. Some had shot at him on the way down, and now he could begin to feel the wounds, like red hot fire pokers bored through him. Then, tingling, finally, his body became heavy once again. His breathing shallowed, and he could feel the blood in his throat coming up. It pooled, dripping a bit from the corner of his mouth. He continued to look at the men, until a boot stepped in front of him. He slowly looked straight to the sky, where the man pointed the lit barrel of a flamethrower at him.

"Got anything left to say, shit-stain?" asked the man.

Alexei tried to speak, but only mouthed the words.

"What?! What is it?" the man began to scoff, "You're not even worth the fuel! You're already fried!" he laughed.

Alexei mouthed the words again, however this time the man crouched down.

"What iiiis itttt? Whaaaaat do you have to say?" the man prodded, poking at Alexeis chest.

Alexei, with little to no strength left, tried to move his right hand, balled, from his lower abdomen, the man took notice. Thinking it was something of value, the man quickly snatched Alexei's hand. Pulling it back, he heard the sound of multiple clicks. Startled, he quickly unballed Alexei's hand, to which he noticed thread tied to Alexei's ring finger, and the crumpled bloody picture of a woman fell to the ground.

"What the fu-"

Jason, still in the parking garage, suddenly feels an immense heat against his face, as a fireball erupts on the battlefield before him. He is taken off his feet, slammed into one of the concrete pillars.

The sound of small pebbles, and derbree, click and tap against the ground. Throughout the parking garage, the moans of injured enemy can be heard. Jason comes to, looking around.

"Alexei..? Alexei? Where are you?" he asks in a gruff voice.

The derbree has stopped raining, and the structure is silent now.

Jason stands, and lumbers over to the embers and charcoal of what had been a fire. The pot sits perfectly still, in the middle. There are two teacups on the ground. One, broken, empty, the other still full.

Jason slowly brings himself to the ground, to take a seat. He picks up the tea, and pours it back into the pot. He then picks the pot up and swishes the contents of the lukewarm tea around. He looks around the parking garage. The already hole riddled walls, even more so now, expose the rebar of the parking garage to the outside world. There is a large chunk missing from the center rafters of the floor he is on. He watches crumbs of concrete hit the floor, the small clatters the only thing to make noise. He pours the tea into the unbroken cup.

From the rafters, a barn owl swoops down, its wings open wide, as it lands on a barrier, opposite from Jason. He watches the bird as it perches upon the barrier. It watches him back.

Jason stands with the tea, barely steaming from the cup. He looks to the battlefield, where moments ago, a platoon sized group had been fighting. Now, its nothing more than scorched earth, and charred bodies in the moonlight. He can see the smoke rising from their mouths, their hands twisted in unnatural positions. He picks up his rifle, the broken teacup in one hand, holding the teacup with tea in the other. He looks to his fallen men. They look peaceful, as if they are sleeping in the moonlight, their arms and hands still crossed upon their rifles.

Jason walks over to Alexei's lean to, crouches down and places the tea, and the broken tea cup next to his deceased friends belongings. He then stands back up, and turns back to the owl.

For a brief moment, Jason sees nothing but the silhouette of the owl against the bright night sky. It then spreads its wings, and takes off into the night.

Jason loads another magazine in his rifle, charges a round into the battery, and marches off into the night horizon.