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Author's Note: This one's kinda based on a true story...
Operation Flour
Running... Running... Running...
The twigs scratch at my face and the leaves block my vision. I can barely see where I'm going, but I don't stop running. I can't stop running. We're running out of time.
My foot hits the mud and I slip backwards. With a surprised cry I fall - ass-first. The ground comes rushing up to meet me, and my black pants and camo-jacket are soon covered in brown stuff that smells a bit to iffy to be mud.
"Shooter!" I hear Squall cry out to me. "Shooter! Are you okay?"
I hear her footsteps moving back up the slope toward me. In a mild daze, I curse and climb back to my feet, biting back a loud scream as my leg starts throbbing in pain.
"I'm fine!" I snap. "Keep going!"
By now most of the group has already moved deeper into the valley. Squall and myself are lagging behind. We stumble clumsily through the bushes, our eyes peeled for signs of anything we can use to protect ourselves from the inevitable onslaught.
My heart's pounding in my chest. I know the enemy is smaller in numbers - they're moving faster up the track. If we don't hurry, they'll beat us back to base. They'll be there waiting for us, and if we don't get there first... I don't even want to think about what could happen...
I'm limping from the fall, my leg's aching, and I know I'm slowing Squall down.
"Catch up with the rest," I tell her.
"What?" Squall replies. Neither of us stop running.
"Go! I'll be fine!"
"Shooter! I'm not leaving you behind -"
"Go! I'm slowing you down!"
"But -"
"If the enemy gets to the killzone before we do, then we're toast. And if we get there first but two of us are still behind then they'll be outnumbered. Go and help them! Even the numbers! I'll catch up!" I leave no room for argument.
Squall gives me a reluctant look, but she knows I'm right. I've been at this a whole lot longer than her - I know what I'm doing.
Squall gives a quick nod before racing off up the path to catch up with the others. I'm alone now, but at least there's hope for the others. Maybe they can hold the enemy off until I can get to them with ammo or sticks or... something. I'm no believer, but I shoot of a prayer to every god under the sun anyway (no pun intended).
My surroundings go quiet as Squall's footsteps fade into nothing. I stop running for a brief moment and sidle off the side of the road. I crouch down beneath the green, my thick camo-jacket blending in with my surroundings. I breathe hard for a long moment and rub my aching leg. I can hear the blood rushing past my ears, and beyond that, the birds twittering away and the light breeze rustling through the trees. My heart rate begins to slow down. Serenity - utter serenity. In times like these, it's easy to forget that your impending doom could be just around the corner.
I let out a deep breath and shuffle my way back onto the road. I break into a light jog, limping slightly with each stride, and start making my way up the track. The rest of my group isn't too far ahead, I can hear them panicking, and it dawns on me that some of our equipment is missing. I let out a curse and hurry after them, my eyes peeled for anything they might've dropped.
"Squall!" I cry.
I make it round the bend and find my group waiting for me.
"What's missing?"
"The flour's gone, we must've dropped it back somewhere," she tells me.
"Bugger," I mutter.
I step past Squall and move to the front of the group. I murmur quietly to myself for a moment as I try and formulate a plan in my head. When I turn back to face my team, I see the lot of them watching me expectantly. They're all drenched in bucket-loads of their own sweat, and they all look exhausted. Coal, the asthmatic on our team, looks like she's having difficulty breathing - I can't say I blame her, it's been a hard road to where we are and we haven't even reached the challenge. Between gasps, she sucks down dose after dose of her inhaler. Bobby-Joe, the green tough girl, gives me an impatient look - if she had her way, we'd go on without the flour. I probably would too if I were much younger, but it's just not that simple. The twins, T-One and T-Two look as if they're about to fall asleep - I can't say I blame them.
"Alright, here's what we'll do," I announce. "Squall, you know this place better than anyone. You go on ahead and find the main road. Find our bearings and figure out how far we are from the goddamn killzone. Take Coal with you for back-up. T-One and T-Two, you two head back down the track and keep your eyes peeled for anything that we can use as a substitute for the flour. Bobby-Joe and me will take up the front to keep our eyes peeled for anything we could use as a substitute. Everyone got that?"
"Right," the gang replies in unison.
I watch Squall pull Coal to her feet and half-drag her the rest of the way up the track. Coal looks completely knackered, but I know that sending her with Squall would be the easiest way to get her medical attention - she wouldn't survive much longer on her inhaler, that's for sure.
The twins move past Bobby-Joe and myself and start jogging back up the track, their eyes scanning the sides of the path for any signs of a flour-substitute. Typical - those two never take more than a glance at anything. Bobby-Joe and myself are slightly more cautious as we move toward the main road, and we peer into the surrounding greenery as we move. I know the chances of us finding anything worth using are very small, but what else can we do? What little ammo we still have won't last very long against the enemy. The flour is what magnifies the strength of our ammo by a hundred fold. Without it, we don't stand a chance. And it's too late to back down now...
After a fruitless search, the four of us break out of the bushes and onto the main road. We find Squall and Coal waiting for us. They look like they've had a decent breather, and Coal doesn't look like she's about to collapse from a lack of oxygen anymore.
We wait for several long, agonizing minutes for the twins to catch up with us. Every precious minute slides by, and all of us can feel the weight of time pressing down on us as it starts to run out.
T-One and T-Two appear from out of the shrubbery, covered in mud and shaking their heads. Drat, still no sign of the flour. I turn to Squall.
"Report?" I prompt.
"The killzone isn't far, it's only a few hundred metres North of here, just past the barn," Squall replies.
"Any signs of the enemy?"
"There's good news and there's bad news and then there's ugly news."
"Give me the bad news."
"There's at least two of them at the killzone waiting for us."
I cringe - if that's bad, then I'm not sure I wanna know the ugly news.
"What's the good news?" the twins ask in unison.
"There's only two of them and they only have four canisters of water. They dropped one down the track."
Sweet. Missing one canister. They don't have the right proportion of water for the flour if they don't have the water, and the flour is useless if there's not water.
"And the ugly?" I mumble, though I don't think I need Squall to tell me what the ugly news is.
"They've picked up two more members and they have flour."
I shake my head as the others begin to curse. They have flour, we don't. We've got all the water we need, but our flour is missing. If the enemy finds that last canister, then we're toast. And it's slightly more likely that they'll get that canister.
"We're seriously running out of time dudes..." Bobby-Joe sighs.
"Right, Squall, Coal and T-Two, I want you guys to go back down the track and find that goddamn flour. Don't come back without it! And see what you can do to slow the enemy down." I order.
I think they can hear the barely-restrained panic in my voice, because the entire group suddenly looks surprisingly nervous.
"What about you guys?" Coal retorts.
"We'll go up to the killzone and hold them off until you can get us that flour."
Squall gives me funny look. "Hold them off?"
"JUST GO!" I snaps.
Without a word, the trio race off down the track. Those that are left of us begin tired jogs up the road. The setting sun is at our backs, it's a fitting scenery for the coming battle. How many of us will be lost this night? How many of us are in our twilight hours?
"You know who we're up against, right?" I mutter to Bobby-Joe.
Bobby-Joe nodd. "Them flippin' guerillas. And they're being lead by Twig and Brazen."
That's not all though. I have yet to tell the team that we're also up against Monkey, the most ferocious fighter our side has ever heard of. What's even worse is the connection I have to Monkey.
Monkey's my younger sister.
Wordlessly we move up the road. We quietly make our way past the barn and find ourselves standing at the edge of a wide field. On one side, we see two of the enemy sitting there watching us. My eyes are narrowed to malicious slits as we move around to our corner.
"I guess you guys are still waiting on that last canister, huh?" I call.
"Yeah, but at least we're not waiting on flour," Monkey retorts.
"True true..."
We reach the bucket marking our territory and gratefully drop down beside it, our backs to the west. The sun's long since set beneath the hills now. It's still light out, but unfortunately, it's not light enough to blind the other side. We've got the sun at our backs, if we'd gotten here sooner, then we could've used the daylight to our advantage.
I wipe the sweat from my forehead and look up at Monkey and the others. How could fate be so cruel? I was about to fight my own sister in the worst battle any of us would ever see. One of us might not make it through. It wasn't right.
"I guess it's only a matter of time, huh?" I mutter.
"Yeah, the others will be back with that canister soon..." Twig snorts.
"Yeah, and we'll be ready to bomb you when that happens!" Bobby-Joe snaps.
"Calm down," I grunt, giving Bobby-Joe a sharp nudge in the ribs.
We fall silent. I decide not to try and make civil conversation anymore - there's no point. The less-seasoned soldiers on both sides are far too immature to understand what kind of a relief civil conversation can be.
For the longest time, no one says anything. We just sit there and wait. Wait to live, wait to fight, wait to cry, wait to fall...
Suddenly, a sharp cry splits the sky.
"I'VE GOT IT!"
My gaze darts nervously back down the hill. I see Coal holding up a large white bag in the air. She looks completely exhausted, and I can see that her asthma is plaguing her once again. She looks like she won't make it the rest of the way up the hill, but the determination on her face never lets up.
"HEY! YOU GUYS!"
On the opposite side of the field, I see Flax, an enemy fighter running towards her team with the last remaining canister in her hands.
"Shit," I grunt.
i clumsily climb to my feet and race back down the hill toward Coal. Squall and T-Two aren't far behind. I reach Coal and with the last of her strength, she flings the bag at me. I catch it, spin, and sprint back up to base, tearing at the bag of flour in the process. My heart is thudding like a drum in my chest, and I can feel the familiar burst of adrenalin starting to erupt in my brain.
"HURRY!" Bobby-Joe shouts.
I reach her and pour the contents of the bag into the bucket. I don't even have time to empty out the bag before Bobby-Joe and T-One start pouring the water from the canisters in with the flour.
"Start mixing!" I order.
Numerous hands reach into the bucket and start mixing the sloppy mixture around. It's harder to handle than any of us expected. We can't get much of a hold on it. It's less hope for us than the Generals bloody well said it would be!
Even so, it's all we have. I grab a handful before realizing that the substance is all over my bracelet. That bracelet was all I had left to remind me of who I had left behind, and what I was fighting to forget.
Hope... The word was engraved in the rubbery blue plastic to remind me of what I felt was lost.
I glance over my shoulder and see the guerillas working just as hard to mix their flour and water in their bucket. I grin maliciously when I realise ours is ready to fire.
I race toward the front lines with the greasy garbage in hand and my fellow soldiers at my back. With a desperate roar I throw the gloop across the lines straight at Flax's head. She looks up and lets out a scream of horror as my shot comes flying out of the sky and splatters itself across her shoulder.
"My t-shirt!" she shrieks. "It's ruined!"
"YEAH!" I retort triumphantly.
I rush back to the bucket to prepare the second wave of gloop balls. Behind me, I hear Bobby-Joe, Squall, the twins and Coal letting out war cries as they release the first wave of slop. They unleash more war cries as their shots hit their marks. It's starting to look like we have a chance in hell of winning this, but we've forgotten that the other side can still retaliate. And knowing Bobby-Joe, Coal, the twins and Squall, they're too busy concentrating on the fact that we made the first move to even consider that the enemy is about to return fire. They race back to our bucket and grab another handful of slop.
"Guys!" I try to warn them. "Wait 'til they've fired before -"
But it's too late. The whole group minus myself is racing back to the front line, straight into the enemy's line of fire.
"NO!" I cry, but it's too late.
I see Twig and Flax grinning maliciously at me as they hurl their globs of gloop high into the air. Most of the group see what's happening in time, and they clumsily manage to scatter out of reach. But Coal never sees it coming. It's too late now to rush over and push her out of the way. I know it's going to be a direct hit and it's too late to stop it.
"COAL!" I cry.
She turns back to look me dead in the eye, she realises what's wrong. Her eyes widen in horror. White slop hits her chest, she staggers backwards and stares down at her stripey-blue top, now covered in the disgusting mess. Our side of the battleground falls silent.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Coal cries, sinking to her knees and staring at the sky.
Our team immediately races to her defence, Bobby-Joe, Squall and myself flinging flour-water at the enemy as the twins drag her back to the bucket. One of our soldiers is down, wounded in action. And it looks like that stuff is seriously gonna stain too...
...But the worst is yet to come.
The twins remain at the front lines to hold back the enemy as best as they can while Squall and Bobby-Joe drag Coal back to safety beside the water bucket. I've taken up the flank, moving back with the Coal and the others but hurling what little water-flour I have on hand back at the enemy. I race over to the bucket to grab another handful, but my heart sinks and my blood runs cold when I see the sight there is to behold. The flour and the water - it's almost completely gone. Glad to see it bloody-well lasted so long as well! And I hope you can hear the sarcasm in that last sentence.
The shock that quickly befalls me drowns out the sounds of Bobby-Joe and Squall working desperately to save Coal's stripey-blue t-shirt that she got from her holiday to Australia from staining. We're going to lose, there's nothing that can save us now...
"SHOOTER!!"
I snap to attention as Squall slaps me hard across the face.
"OW!" I cry, rubbing my stinging cheek." Dude, that hurt Squall! Don't take it to seriously!!"
"Sorry!" Squall replies. "It was spur of the moment! And anyway, desperate times call for absolute melodrama -"
"Alright already! Give it a rest!! What the hell is it?!"
"Coal's t-shirt, it's staining."
I let out a long and loud sigh - could this battle get any worse? I push my way past Squall to take a look at Coal's t-shirt. White, crusty, flaky patches cover her beloved t-shirt. The poor kid looks like she's about to go into shock. Yup, that's staining alright.
"Quick, cover her eyes," I order.
Bobby-Joe obediently puts her hands over Coal's eyes.
"I'm gonna have to scrape this crap off," I mutter, stripping my heavy army jacket from my shoulders.
"What? Are you insane?" Bobby-Joe cries.
"Who said 'scrape'?" Coal groans.
"Shut up Coal!" I shout.
I lean close to the stain and prepare to start scratching, but Squall's hand grabs my wrist and holds me back.
"Shooter, I can't let you do this," she tells me firmly.
"Don't make me make that an order, Sergeant," I retort.
"You don't know anything about detergent, you don't know anything about laundry... This is madness!!"
I wrench my wrist away. "If we don't do this, then the t-shirt will be ruined and no ammount of Napi-San will wash those stains out! Has it occurred to you how her mother will lecture her for hours on end for her utter carelessness? How many days she will have to spend alone at home because she is grounded for her ruined shirt? I have to do this, Squall! For Coal's sake!!"
I can see the reluctance in Squall's eyes, but she doesn't protest any further. I hide my agonizing nervousness as it ties knots in my stomach. I reach down and gently begin to scratch away at the surface of the dried flour. A blinded Coal doesn't fidget and doesn't struggle. Squall and Bobby-Joe hold their breaths and watch excruciatingly closely as I scrape away at the flaky surface.
After what seems like an eternity, I look up.
"That's all I can do," I announce. "I don't want to try any harder in case I cause irreparable damage of my own. Hopefully I've done enough to last her for now."
We all let out a collective sigh of relief.
"CAPTAIN!"
I look up to the front lines where one of the twins is calling to me. Realization slaps me across the face as it dawns of me what saving Coal's t-shirt may have cost. I've neglected the battle far too long. The guerillas are beginning to advance.
It's too late, there's only one thing left to do.
"RETREAT!!" I cry, knowing this is the only way left to possibly save our t-shirts from one hell of a flour-bashing.
The twins waste no time into racing back to the bucket where the majority of us crouch. I watch as the guerillas all begin to cross the killzone and edge their way toward us... Yes... Just what I want them to do. Right into my trap.
"NO!" I hear Monkey cry.
But it's too late to save them now. I grin maliciously at Monkey as I grab what little of our ammo is left to spare.
"This is for COAL!!" I cry, racing forward and hurling a fistful of the gloop at the enemy.
Those that are left in our group follow suit, grabbing what's left of the gloop and racing straight toward the enemy. It's our last ditch effort to cripple them, a desperate suicide mission straight into the killzone for revenge, and for a tiny victory. We hurl our last globs of ammunition at the shocked enemy, hitting them from the face to their shoes, ruining clothes and pants just as they clumsily hurl gloop at us. Shouts of shock horror rise up from the flour-stained battlefield, from the enemy just as from us.
Time seems to slow, and I look up in time to see my impending doom flying in straight toward me. I stare at it, feeling my heart stop beating as I realise it's far too late for me to get out of the way. I feel a dull thud against my army jacket as the gloop hits me dead centre of my chest. I look down at my stained jacket, my beloved army jacket stained with a gloopy flour-water mixture that's murder to wash out from any fabric. My mother, my poor mother would have to wash this out when I got home, and I would be grounded for a week.
I sank to my knees, looking up across the field at Monkey, with a spiteful, cruel look smattered across her face. Realisation dawns on me - it was her. My own sister had been my downfall. She had got me into big trouble.
I can barely hear Squall as she races with Bobby-Joe to my side, the pair of them fighting desperately to get rid of the mess before it dries.
"Why?" I whisper before falling face down in the dirt.
I manage to roll onto my back to take one last look at the dying light of the sky before Mum finds out about the mess on my jacket and grounds me for a week. Overhead, I can still see gloop streaking it's way across the battlefield. In those final few moments, I begin my inner monologue of regrets, and I plan out an essay I can write about the pointlessness of war that I can write to perfection when I will be confined to my room after Mum sees my jacket.
And then it's over...
"Oi! You lot!"
I sit up and look back down the hill as Squall's mum comes out of the house to fetch us.
"The cake's ready! You can all come in now and we'll sing 'Happy Birthday' to Tamara."
"Aww, Mum!" Tamara Squall whines, clearly embarrassed.
The lot of us hurry back down the hill to Squall's house and hurry inside.
"Thanks Mrs Squall," we say in unison - just because we're fresh out of a great war doesn't mean that us kids shouldn't be polite (or so my mum would say).
"You kids are a mess!" Mrs Squall exclaims. "Your mothers aren't going to be very happy when they see you lot."
Well, at least I get cake before Mum comes and picks me and my sister up and grounds us for messing up our clothes, I guess. It's a shame I'm going to walk away from a birthday party with a grounding-sentence looming over me. Hmm, I guess that makes cake my final meal as a free person... And being grounded is going to make my house a big, stone, fortress of a prison... And finding a way out will be the next challenge...
