Behind Enemy Lines

         There I lay, my body immobile, petrified by fear and exhaustion. My gun frozen to my chest. I would have never thought that I could have lasted this long. However, here I am, lying under the cover of leaves deep within the recesses of this tropical forest. With the constant and imminent threat of discovery of my presence here behind enemy lines, I am forced to maintain my vigilance. Deep in this forest where I am currently residing, past the thick cover of flora and the many indigenous snakes and animals, rests a stonewall just past a clearing. Right against the wall is a thin tree line, which doesn’t provide much cover, but it’s the best I have. Then right past the wall is a gently declining hill. That is where I have chosen to take up shelter. I’ve created a make-shift cover of leaves and so as to maintain as little of an area as possible, I have placed my gun on my chest with my arms constricted on top of it keeping it close for a quick draw.
         Thinking back now, I’m still not quite sure where I fit in His master plan. Why keep me alive? What is the purpose of my survival? Or does he simply just not give a damn anymore?
         “No!” I shouted in a whisper. “I can’t lose it. My faith is all I have.” It’s the only thing keeping me sane right now.
         I guess it’s just my incredible exhaustion imposing doubt upon me. But I know that I will never make it home. Just like my brothers. There it is, an overwhelming sorrow. These men who I shared everything with here on our tour, well, it’s all gone and I don’t really know if I can take it. To think, twenty-seven hours ago we were riding in our caravans and then five hours ago I was there for it all. We had split into teams of two. But all stayed within sight of each other. But now in hindsight I wish that we had all gone on our separate missions. That way, I wouldn’t have had to see the slaughter. One by one my men were gunned down through the thick cover. Blood-curdling screams rang out as my desperate brothers frantically searched for the origin of fire. Until I, as the general, ordered an immediate retreat. Bullets tore through tree branches left and right with the sound of crackling fire. The terrified screams of my brothers shattered my heart and broke my soul. And as we hustled, my partner was shot in the spine. So I sat there with my brother dying in my arms. There I held him on my right arm with my left hand shielding the wound from my eyes along with a feeble attempt at saving his life. There, he cried and I cried with him. His head started to nod back and forth. His struggle was apparent. And he muttered incoherent prayers, but I knew exactly what he meant. Save my brothers oh Lord please. His breath escaped and my brother was gone. I had to carry on. He would understand my need to leave him behind. So I ran. Pumping my arms, although hindered by the bulky Springfield in my arms, which remained my last form of defense.
         Snap. “Oh, my God.” Here, I rush back to my apocalyptic reality.
“It was just an animal.” I can’t fathom how those bastards haven’t found me yet. The howling wind and rhythmic pounding of my heart is restrictive of my senses. So much so that it is becoming a burden.
Damnit. I can’t control it now. Anger has overcome me, flushes me of all calmness. The paranoia is setting in now and my thoughts are rushing more and more frantically. I, I can’t control it. I don’t know how I’m going to make it through. Perhaps as a martyr for the cause. But, is there really any honor in that? I just—
         “Shh. Quiet. I think I heard something this way,” a man said in a low rough voice, an obvious smoker.
Damn. They’ve found me. And I found myself reciting the same prayer as my fallen brother. Oh Lord, protect my remaining brothers and grant them the strength to carry on. And may this be, my guardian protect my soul.
I stood up with my rifle at the ready.
“Show me what you’ve got.”