Sniper (Short Story)
-CLUK- -TINK-
How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? Months? Everyone in my platoon was either dead or had run away. All that's left is one lousy sniper and God knows how many of them. What would Gunther do?
Gunther would not have put himself in this situation. He's too smart to be outgunned or outnumbered.
I hadn't moved for so long that every muscle in my body had ceased to function. I just need to peek a little, to see where all the bastards are. Why the hell are we fighting anyway? Couldn't we all just talk about it? Peacefully? Diplomatically? I wish I could just get up and go talk to them. You know, stop firing at each other for a second and just go home. No. We're not fighting for ourselves. We're fighting for the big man at home who wants nothing more than to gain more control and resources. I suppose they want the same thing we do. Maybe that's why we're at war.
Stupid.
-CLUK- -TINK-
Their sniper fired another shot. I don't know if it meant to spook me or if there is someone else out there still alive. At least they won't be able to see me when night falls.
The dead body I used as a cover is riddled with bullet holes. I've been showered in his blood that it had all dried up. The smell did not go away. The warmth of his intestine stopped bothering me but the smell did not go away. My rifle is still in my hand but I can't bring myself to move it or even use it to find their sniper.
-CLUK- -TINK-
A man screams not too far from me. I slowly turn my head to look. It's Little John. I remember seeing him in the mess hall. Always bragging about how he'll propose to his girlfriend once the war's over. No one told him that the hospital his girlfriend works at was bombed earlier today. We figured we could tell him later. Too bad he'll never find out.
-CLUK- -TINK-
That shut him up.
"Stop moving." A voice said from behind.
I quickly turned my head to see who it was.
"GOD DAMNIT. STOP. MOVING." He speaks as he holds his lips tight, looking straight into my eyes.
I stop moving.
"You're lucky he was reloading."
-CLUK- -TINK-
The shot sounded like it’d hit something far away.
"Did you at least see how many more of them there were?"
"No," I replied.
"I don't see anyone else. I think it's just that damn sniper.
I don't know why I lied. There's actually another person walking around checking the dead body; to see who else is still alive. But he's really far away from us, so I guess it didn't really matter.
"You a shooter or a carrier?"
"I got the gun but no ammo."
"Good, I have two bullets left."
-CLUK- -TINK-
"Shouldn't we wait till nightfall?" I ask.
"And risked that a**hole getting a lucky shot on us? No thanks."
Funny, that sounds like something Gunther would've said.
"You see that house with the broken roof? I bet that's where the sniper's hiding."
I peek up a bit. He's right. I can see the barrel of the rifle peeking out, scanning the area from left to right.
-CLUK- -TINK-
Yeah. Definitely him.
"I'll give you the ammo when he's reloading."
"How do you know when ---"
-CLUK- -TINK-
A man screams from a distance.
"He's reloading."
He passed me the two pieces of ammo and I reloaded my rifle quickly. In seconds, I aim down my sight, squeeze the trigger, and the sniper's head explodes. We both held our celebration when another soldier came into view and locked his eyes with ours.
We all screamed as I fired my rifle and missed. The soldier goes for his pistol but not before my new friend here tackles him into the ground. He was then overpowered and got himself into a chokehold. I use the rifle butt to hit him and we all just go at him; stomping and smashing his face until he stops moving.
“That was closed, thanks.” He picks up the pistol and stuffs it behind his pants.
“Might need it later.”
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We slowly walk down towards the house, carefully avoiding stepping on our fallen comrade. I remember the day before Gunther went back home to go live with his parents, we read a comic book about a hero who fights crime as a ghost. We were always getting bullied for reading during breaks and he would always shout the hero catchphrase ‘I ain’t dead till you done burying me.’ Then they go and done burying us, leaving only our head to breathe. Thinking back on it, it was kind of funny.
I miss Gunther. Maybe I can find him after the war.
“By the way, I’m Vince.”
“Tony.”
"So you got any plan after this?"
"I'm going home. There's someone I have to see."
"A special someone? I see," Vince said, nudging my arm playfully.
"I'm going home too; to see my wife and kid."
"Will you tell them? You know, things that happen here?"
Vince stays quiet for a while.
"No. It's better if they don't know about it."
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The house is littered with dead bodies, both from our side and theirs. I think we put up a good fight seeing as they brought more guns than people.
I somewhat feel sorry for the people who used to own this home. I'd imagine that one day they were told to evacuate from this area and the next thing you know, a tank shell just decimated your home. From the sight of it, or what's left anyway; they didn't have much time to pack. I could still see their family portrait hanging on the wall. I hope they make it to wherever they're going.
Walking towards the stairs, we see someone with our uniform on top of another soldier. It seems like he was going to stab the other guy but was shot multiple times before he could finish the job. He stares at me as if he was hiding from a hunter. As if I was the bad omen coming to answer his prayer, to come and finish the job.
Vince grabs the dead body and lays him gently against the wall. I kick away the pistol before the other guy can reach for it.
"Please I---" He said as the gash from his neck and chest started to spill out more blood.
"Erbarme," He said again, softly.
Tony and I look at each other. He picked up the pistol and handed it to me.
"Your choice."
_________________________________________
We finally made it up the stairs. The sniper's body is still lying there, dead and bloody.
“You really gave us hell.” Vince kicks the dead corpse while muttering something I'd rather not repeat.
He really did pick a good sniping spot. From here, I could see the body I used as a cover. There must be 100 of us out there, dead and forgotten.
What a bloody sight.
"Wow. He was writing a letter before you shot him. Take a look."
Vince handed me the blood-soaked letter. I can still make out what it said; surprisingly all in English.
[To Helen,
How are you, my sweet? I hope my gift to you and Carter made it there safely. We don't get much chance to send anything out. You should have seen when Sasha tried to send his wife twenty letters. Poor guy didn't even get to see his son born before being stationed here.
There's talked of the war being close to over. I really hope that's true.
Thinking of you, always.—]
He hadn't finished writing. It seems like he still has more to say. There are some pictures attached to this letter: A bunch of soldiers standing around with labels such as "Sasha" and "Me".
Sasha looks like the man from downstairs, only less bloody and happier.
"Sad. Real shame he didn't get to send his wife that letter." Vince said as he picked up a dog tag and read it aloud.
“Captain Gunther Acker. Funny name.”
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