This is my Third Installment of wasteland, i am feeling that this book is not going very well in terms of people liking it so this may be the last one if i recive no indication that anyone likes or that i should bother continuing.
ARCAUS
Chapter Three
“Fucking fire straight!”
the abuse rung in his ears loud and hard, Hendrix almost dropped his rifle in front of his latest instructor as he lay into him with quite a lot of swearing.
The man had a square face, lined with marks from stress and too much shouting; his nose was large and flat on his face, much like a boxer.
“I swear private if you spent as many years as I did in the field, you’d know how lousy you are a marksman!” the instructor shouted hard again.
Hendrix hated being inside for shooting exams and unfortunately it was a lovely day outside, a paradise in comparison to the stuffy gymnasium, crammed with whirring automated targets.
He tried time and time again but his aim swayed left and right, weaving in and under the red disks. He tried to compose himself but the instructor continued to berate him.
“Hurry the hell up private!” he shouted again, tiny specs of sweat splattered his face and neck as he tried to take a shot at one of the more frontward disks.
He pulled the trigger, but he missed yet again, whizzing just under the target. This caused the instructor to abuse him further.
“What do you call that!” he roared again
“Sir with all due respect…” Hendrix started to defend himself when the instructor hammered him again.
“With all due respect you’re a shitty excuse for a soldier!” he shouted.
Hendrix started to feel his blood boil; the constant baiting was getting on his nerves, piecing his skull and whizzing about like a bee. He tried to breathe and calm himself down but the instructor continued.
“Shall we call up your father and tell him to come pick you up, you lousy fuck!”
Hendrix knew that if he had to endure another second of this man he would have to hit him very hard in the face, but he went on.
“Well maybe we should…”
“Shut the fuck up!”
Hendrix screamed his face red and his eyes fixed into a hard stare, the man stood astonished, speechless. Hendrix eyed him for a good three seconds and resumed his shoot in total silence.
He breathed heavily, cleared his head, he barely opened his eyes to aim.
Bang! The bullet whizzed right into the heart of the target, ripping a finger sized hole into it. He fired again, a split second from his first shot, his eyes whizzing around, searching for targets, another perfect hit, and another. His arms were working hard to keep up, as were the instructor’s eyes, following the flurry of shots and shredded paper. Firing again and again, the targets were becoming engulfed in the mass of bullets.
Picking up pace and his face calm and serene, as used to the gunshots as a bird to the sound of the wind rustling through its wings. Hendrix thought he even closed his eyes at one point, the burning in his arms as they struggled to swing the rifle as fast as he was picking the targets was almost euphoric, adrenaline thought took the better of him and found himself smiling and grinning as he blew away the last target.
stood in the stuffy gym amongst the bewildered instructor, and the floating shreds of red paper and bullet casings. The acrid stench of gunpowder filled his nostrils as he inhaled deeply again and thrusted the rifle into the shaking hands of the instructor.
Hendrix set a new record for the firing range that day, and it was a shame that he never told his friends in the barracks.
“How did you do Hen?” enquired George, his fingers clasped around a coke, leaning on his bunk.
“Fine” said Hendrix, and sat down to read a magazine.
“Well you musta dun summin” said George and took a swig of coke. Hendrix closed his magazine and turned to face him on his bunk.
“Why do you say that?” Said Hendrix, he wondered if the instructor had told anyone.
“Well old’ Shout n’ scream was looking mighty pissed coming out of your exam” George said, his eyebrow raised, searching for an explanation.
“Maybe I broke his training gun or something” said Hendrix dismissively, behind his book he was smiling; he could just imagine his face as he checked his score.
Anna, as always was waiting for him in the little café in the centre of town. It took him a long while to get from the barracks to her. He would almost always be sweaty, tired and fed up. But she never seemed to mind, and he never seemed to mind, as long as she was waiting for him.
She would either be nose first in a book, wearing the glasses she hated, but had to wear in order to read her printed treasures. Or she would be drinking a large Espresso which he would eventually pay for.
Hendrix hoped that she would be reading, every time. Her long hair falling out of place as she peered harder into her book until it obscured her vision and she pushed it away quickly to make sure she never missed a word.
The buss rattled and screeched as it lurched into the bay, the town was busy, but in a small town kind of way, nine times out of ten Hendrix would have to stop to say hello to many a smiling face.
The many people all filtered in and out of the many small shops, browsing and peering, scanning and probing. Mothers tried in vain to guide their children away from the many colourful distractions that the glass windows offered. The streets there were wide and clean. A fresher version of the typical urban clog.
Hendrix stepped off of the bus and took a deep, long breath, and cleared his lungs and head of the heated strain of his army life. Anna always said that fresh air was a lifesaver, and he never believed it till now.
The sky was blue and cloudless, the air brisk and sharp, but not cold enough to make him wrap up. Hendrix looked onto the street opposite and searched the many tables that sat outside Anna’s favourite café.
He didn’t have to search long until he found her. Anna was staring lovingly into a book as always. Her sleek brown hair hung loose, cascading down her slender shoulders, ever so slightly curled, like gentle waves sweeping back and forth.
If just one painting had a face like Anna’s then all the painters and sculptors in the world would have to burn their masterpieces and shatter their works, for anything they could ever hope to create would be a failure in comparison. Smooth and flawless cheeks, which Hendrix had seen blush, and bear tears. Fair skin and eyes of deep sea blue, to which there was no end to their empathy and kindness.
Some would call that a fanciful description, poetic to the point of fallacy. But Hendrix would remember her like this till the day he died.
He walked over to where Anna was sitting, she barely noticed him sit down. Her eyes searched over the words on the page, left to right franticly, he could only imagine what went on in her head as she was reading.
“Sometimes Anna I wish I was a book, so you would spend this much time giving me a look over”
Hendrix placed two fingers under her chin and raised it from her book, she smiled and their eyes locked in the centre, hardly moving.
“You know you’re much better than a book” Anna smirked; her voice was soft and resonant. Anna placed her book down on the table, and rested her hands on Hendrix’s cheeks; they both leant forward and kissed.
Anna’s kisses were tender and slow, filled with untamed affection, she could never stop kissing Hendrix when he was not away, making sure she never wasted a second with him, she hated being away from him, and he hated being away from her and her soft kisses.
Hendrix smiled, but this time it wavered in the middle, collapsing and crumbling prematurely, his eyes started to water, tears welled up, and a lump arose in his throat. Anna’s eyed flowed into worry, she held Hendrix’s face up to hers and said.
“My god Hen’ what’s wrong?”
Hendrix felt a tear roll down his face, he looked into her blue eyes and could barely speak, and he held Anna’s arms as she held his. His words barley made it past his mouth, choked in his throat.
Anna prayed and hoped that he would never have to hear the words Hendrix had carried with him from the barracks, back from the monsters in grey uniforms, the bastards that took her sweet Hen’ away.
She lied to herself every day, but she knew it was going to come some day, she then knew exactly what was wrong.
“They’re sending me…”
Hendrix choked again, his sentence unfinished. Anna found herself welling up as well, tears forming in her blue eyes. She felt as if her tiny heart could break.
“Sending you where baby…where are they sending you”
Anna Said with tear ridden eyes, she knew what was coming but she had to be sure, maybe there was hope.
Hendrix looked back up at Anna, eyes filled with fear now as well as sadness.
“Hammer Point One” Hendrix whispered. Anna’s tiny heart snapped.
I hope it's okay now if you let me hang around your story a bit; I've become intrigued and I'd like to see if I can offer helpful advice and draw out your story's potential. You are going to be continuing it, aren't you? It's always a shame to see projects fold for lack of interest...so I'll try to review this story as often as I can (though that'll be difficult given that I have a host of standardized tests right around the corner).
That's all I'll have to say for now. Yeah...this post was long. I'll go and give a proper review to the first chapter later, I swear.
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