)Fighting Fire - Prologue
The cheering and chanting quickly died. Another flash of orange and red streaked across the sky. David looked down the line at the faces of his comrades, stone cold, ready for what was about to come.
David, and the rest of his unit raised their guns, pointing to the sky, ready for the fiery abominations. David looked around him once more. Their numbers were too little now, he knew that. This could very well be their final stand. Most of the soldiers knew as well, he could see it in their eyes. Defeat mixed with resilience. They would not go down without a fight.
One last flash from the flare filled the sky. The creatures started raining down on the red rock in front of them. David flipped the visor on his helmet down. 'This is it,' he thought. "Fire at will!" He yelled, and the war began again.
Job Interview:
Twenty one year old, David Young, sat in the room, twiddling a piece of paper, with a single number on it, in his fingers. Waiting was not a strong point for him, and thanks to the WSA's (World Salvation Army's) recent request for more soldiers, it looked as if he was going to be waiting a while.
Now, he sat in a large waiting room, with hundreds of chairs and far to many people. 'At least I have a chair,' he kept telling himself, happy he didn't have to stand for the many hours he had been there.
"874," The voice called over the intercom. The man sitting next to David stood, and started walking towards the door, with a woman standing next to it holding a clipboard, ready to greet him.
Another person rushed to take the seat. He had short blonde hair, spiked in the front, blue eyes, was about six foot two, and was fairly muscular. A good soldier, thought David.
The man turned to him. "What number did you get?" He asked.
"912," David sighed. He wasn't one for talking, especially when he was already angry.
"Seriously? I got 913!" The man replied.
"Imagine that."
"Yeah, imagine that." The man paused. "What's your name?"
"David, David Young, and you?"
"Shawn Williams, 19 years old, weapon of choice, JS-12 knife."
David smirked, the JS-12 was nice back in its day, but nowadays, it was nothing. Shawn caught the gesture.
"What?"
"Nothing," David snickered. "Twenty one," he told him his age.
Shawn nodded. "Don't underestimate the knife,"
"Oh I'm not," David assured him, a huge grin on his face. The next number was announced on the intercom, 875.
"Good," Shawn said, one eyebrow raised.
They sat in silence for five more numbers. Watching as slowly people got up and went through the door, to their interview. As each person left, a group of people rushed in to take the chair.
"If you don't think the JS-12 is good then what do you think is?" Shawn finally asked.
The corners of David's mouth crept up into a smile again. "Just drop it, Ok? I don't have a problem with it."
"No, I want to know." The next number was announced. David sighed.
"That was a good weapon in its day, but it can't even match up, with say a JS-47," David chuckled.
Shawn shook his head, "You got it all wrong man, this baby would win any day," he revealed part of the knife from the inside of his jacket.
"How did you get that in here?"
"That's my little secret," he hid it again.
David stared at him in disbelief. He obviously was going to say nothing more on the matter, so David sat back in his chair. They sat in silence until 912 was called. David stood up.
"Good luck," Shawn said.
"Yupp," David replied and walked towards the woman.
"David, is it?" The woman asked as he approached.
"That's me," he said, walking through the door.
"Great, follow me." She started walking down the dull, grey colored hallway, David right behind her. She stopped at an open door. "Just in here," She smiled.
Inside the room sat one of the army generals, behind a wooden office desk, cluttered with reports, applications, and other documents. He was a big man, at least six foot three, and 210 pounds of pure muscle. He showed David his permanent scowl, as David entered the once again, dully colored room. David looked around at the many pictures and artifacts hung on the walls. He smiled to himself when he saw the JS-12 framed behind a glass case on the wall. He continued analyzing the room. 'At least he tried to make it look happy,' he thought.
"Sit," the general said.
David surprised, and angry at the man's rudeness, quickly took his seat in front of the desk, in a comfortable black, leather chair.
"Why are you here?" The general asked.
"I want to help save my world, sir." David replied, confidently.
"Don't give me that crap, no one really joins for that reason," the general sighed.
David had always had anger problems, and what the general said made him pretty angry. He tried to hold back, but couldn't. "What is your problem?" He yelled. "You ask people to sign up, desperate for more men, then when one comes in, wanting to help save the world they live in, you turn them away, claiming they lie! If you don't want my help, then you wont get it!"
He turned, and determined to show the general just what he was missing out on, kicked the door open, splintering the wood in the frame, and leaving the door to hang on only one hinge. He stormed out the new hole in the wall, and back the way he came from.
Shawn was following the woman up the hallway as David walked down it. "Woah man, what happened?" He asked as David pushed past, and without responding, walked through the waiting area and out the door.
Confused, Shawn continued following the woman, they turned the corner, and she gasped. A door now leaned halfway into the hallway. The general stood scowling at the door.
"What happened?" The woman shrieked.
Without answering, the general replied, "That's a strong one, that is." He paused. "What was his name?"
The woman flipped through papers on her clipboard then read the name. "David Young."
"And how old?" The general asked.
"21."
"Perfect," Said the general, and for the first time, smiled, as he beckoned Shawn into the room.
The Letter:
David awoke the next morning lying in bed, thoughts of the previous day still clouded his mind. It was quite the blow up, he thought. Surely he would getting a letter in the mail soon, ordering him to pay for the repairs.
He laid for a little reliving the moment, angry with himself. Army commanders are supposed to be rude, blunt. They are supposed to be strict, and yet for whatever reason, he had flipped out. He even thought that breaking the door would be a sign of strength... looking back he knew it was not.
"I'm not getting in now... good job genius," he said aloud. He went to the bathroom in his small apartment and splashed water on his face, both to wake him up, and to take his mind off of things. He then showered and dressed.
He threw some hash-browns and bacon on the stove then made his way outside to the mailbox. He tucked the newspaper under his arm and made his way back towards the house, sorting through the junk mail. He stopped on one. Great, he thought. "They sure respond fast," he mumbled aloud.
He tossed the letter on the table, went to flip the hash-browns and bacon, in an attempt to put opening the letter off. Then to kill more time, he sat down and started reading the newspaper. The main headline of the day was "Atop Land Again."
Today marked a major advancement in our technology, as the WSA finished building a training center upon the surface of the Earth. This is the first building to be developed above ground in the last 1000 years, the last one being in 2013.
"It really is quite the accomplishment, and it took a lot of hard work, from a lot of underpaid workers to accomplish it" said Jack Daniels, one of the main architects on the job.
"It shows a great advancement in technology," said Jason Bowman, one of the researchers involved in the project. "A lot of really intelligent men were the only reason it made it this far."
The building was made to house, and train the soldiers of the WSA for the fight against the dreaded Solar Flare which scientists predict to occur within the next eight months.
The power of the forcefield was vastly magnified, and some effects were changed to regulate temperatures, and create enough oxygen for the lucky soldiers who will be there.
David stopped reading, he could have been there he told himself. He could have been one of the few people to walk and live on top of the Earth again. He could have been one of the first in a thousand years...
Frustrated, he ate his breakfast, watching as the envelope from the WSA continued mocking him. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, he stuffed the last bit of food into his mouth, and ripped open the top of the envelope, then read the letter.
Dear Mr. Young,
We are writing to congratulate you on making it into the WSA. More, we would like to congratulate you on earning the chance to be a general.
Please write back to us within the next week either accepting or declining. Afterward, if you accept, you will be given further instructions.
Thank you for serving the world .
-Gen. Baker
General Baker
David held the piece of paper between his fingers. 'Unbelievable,' he thought. 'I cause a big scene, and somehow I still manage to make it in. And have the opportunity to be general.' Quickly he stood and sifted through the piles on the table to find a blank piece of paper. He then scribbled his response.
Dear WSA,
I am writing to accept the gracious offer you have given me. I would love to have the opportunity to serve.
Sincerely,
David Young
David Young
He read the letter once through, then grabbed an envelope, sealed it, and jumped into his car, a black Leopard, and headed off to the post office.
Upon arriving, he bought a stamp and handed the letter to the man at the counter. He started walking away when the wall started beeping.
He turned and the wall now viewed a reporter, with "breaking news" written along the bottom.
"The attacks have started. That is right folks, this is not a prank. The first solar flare has hit Earth. The creatures from the flare have started raining upon the surface of the Earth."
The picture on the wall cut to an image of balls of fire raining from the sky, then upon hitting the surface, turning into creatures of fire.
keep writing!
so like your 'David' <I can't remember the word.. my apologies> 
Gender:
Points: 1707
Reviews: 84