Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Armageddon by Arvind

Chapter 1: Their worst enemy

Two boys stopped, panting, as a man ran past the alley where they were hiding. “Yo, Max, is he gone yet?” commanded a boy with longish, matted blond hair and a skinny, wiry structure. “Not that I can see, Jack,” said a tall boy with glasses, and brown hair that stuck up in a lot of places. “Good. Keep a lookout. If that ‘Boss’ dude really wants us dead, he’s going to send a lot more of those creeps after us.” The second boy nodded. It had all started when the boys were walking home from football practice. Then there was the guy. He looked at them, and drew out a knife the size of a machete. The boys got the message he meant business, and made a break for it. Loud footsteps sounded somewhere nearby. The boys ran.

Chapter 2: A Place to Hide

The boys couldn’t go home. The dude chasing them knew where they lived. So they ran, Max tailing Jack. Until the guy chasing them chucked a well-aimed rock at Jack. He fell down, bleeding. Max picked him up and staggered under his weight. ‘Uh-oh,’ thought Max. The guy had caught up.

Chapter 3: Interrogations

The guy shoved Max and Jack into the back of a car. There was a soundproof window separating them from the driver. There were also gas pipes leading in. The guy must have drugged them with anesthesia, because they fell asleep. The boys woke up when cold water was being poured onto them. They woke up. They were tied up, and gagged. Terrible. Then a guy walked in. Unlike the others, he was like a Mac Daddy; sporting a suit, polished shoes, and looking spiffy. He had a cobra tattooed on his bald head. He leered, and then ungagged them. “How much do you brats know?” He demanded.
“You saw my thugs and me.” “Yeah. How would you not see a dozen dudes with machetes and ak-47’s chasing you?”
“You still saw us. Take ‘em away!” he commanded.

Chapter 4: Escape from the Thugs

A huge, burly man with rough hand and an ugly scar cutting across his horrific face shove the boys into a brick jail cell with no furnishing whatsoever. The only way out that Jack could see was a vent in the side of the wall. Problem: it had wooden bars on it, shielding it so you couldn’t get out. Max started to speak, but was shut up by a blow in the jaw. Wincing, he backed away. The man left. Jack pulled out his Swiss army knife from his pocket and began to work at the bars. Max did the same. When the bars fell off, they climbed through the vent. When they got to a slope, they slid down. When they saw water, they could not stop themselves, and plunged downward into the icy mirth. Cold, wet, and dripping, they climbed out. Two men with pistols greeted them at the shore.

Chapter 5: The Beckons of Death

After the men caught them, they took them to a broken down store on 7th street. The men took them to a pair of chairs, sat them down, and strapped them into place. Jack laughed nervously. A man pulled out a pistol, aimed, and shot at Jack. He fell still, a spot of crimson appearing on his chest, his glazed eyes sprinkled with light from the stars they could not see, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face. Max stared in horror. “Clearly we made a mistake in letting you live, brat,” said a man in his gruff voice. The other one snickered. The first man pulled out his gun and shot at his comrade, who was dead before he hit the floor. He then pressed the barrel of the smoking weapon to Max’s head, and pressed the trigger.

Chapter 6: Coming into Play

Maximilian Rose awoke with a start. His forehead was dripping with perspiration, and his pillow was wet. He had just had a horrifying dream about him and another kid and some unknown kid getting killed by thugs. He was just stressed. Yeah, that worked. He settled into bed, and drifted into a quiet slumber. The next day, Max walked to baseball practice. He had forgotten the dream entirely. As he practiced his swing, a boy with matted blond hair and a skinny, wiry structure walked up to him and stuck out his hand. “Hi,” he said in a friendly voice. “I’m Jack Syzelyk.” Max, who suddenly remembered the dream, broke into a nervous sweat, and ran home.

Chapter 7: The CIA Interferes

Four hours later, Max woke up in bed. Someone was tirelessly shaking him awake. “Hello Max,” said a voice. Female, Definitely. He shoved his glasses onto his face. His bleary vision suddenly turned clear. “Do you know this guy?” she asked, holding up a picture. “Who are you?” Max asked. “Miriam Ramirez, CIA, special ops division. Now will you tell me?” “Yes,” said Max. “Now…” but the woman had already gone.

Chapter 8: Pearl Harbor

A week later, another agent, male this time, hurriedly walked into the room, brandishing a note. He turned on the T.V. “Pearl Harbor, a naval base was bombed by Japanese kamikazes, yesterday on December 7, 1949.” He hurriedly switched the T.V. off. “He betrayed us, the one we interrogated you about. Told the Japs about Pearl Harbor. We sent Swat teams, the Army… but we were too late.” He hung his head sorrowfully, and then left.

Chapter 9: WWII

The president had done all he could to keep the U.S. out of WWII, but in vain. Millions of innocent Americans, soldiers who answered the call of duty, and civilians, staying out of the way. A terrible loss, but with great victory comes great sacrifice.

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