Find Your Way (On Hold 'cause I'm lazy)

Find Your Way

A/N: new story yay! Sorry for grammar and if i misuse anything, I do not really know about this stuff. I hope you like, don't worry romance will begin soon. Just introducing Knox. Let me know what you think!

Prologue:

         

          It was quiet in the deserted town. Too quiet. All that could be heard was the crunching of the boots my small platoon, as our feet dragged with the heaviness of exhaustion. The dry, parched, ground cracked in protest as we made our way through the town. It appeared to be abandoned, but then again, you can never be too careful. We stayed alert, as the men the outer edges pointed guns ant every possible hiding place.

            Suddenly, I heard movement to the right and stopped the men. I pressed a finger to my lips, silencing the youngest man, Richards, who was just about to speak. I motioned for them to stay as I cautiously made my way over to where I heard the sound. I looked and saw a small, seemingly starved boy, hiding in the corner of one of the buildings.

            I made my way over to him and crouched down to his level. "Are you alright? You don't have to be afraid." I said calmly. He just stared. Figures, he doesn't speak English. He continued to shake and raised a hand to point. What was he- Oh shit!

            There was a sound of guns firing. I tugged on the boy, but he wouldn't budge. Only when I was shielding my head from bullets did he respond. "Just leave. I am ready to die." He said very clearly. I looked at him for a moment and then nodded. If that was what he wanted. I ran back to my men, only to find them surrounded. Great.

            The enemy was firing at them and they were fighting back. Yet, as skilled as we were, we were out numbered. I whipped out my gun and shot repeatedly at some of the men. They fell to the ground with a thud. I saw Richards grimace. I shook my head. We continued to go back and forth, and it lasted for what seemed like hours.

            One of them suddenly pulled out what looked like a grenade of some sort, and shouted angry words in a foreign language. Suddenly he threw it, right towards my men. "RUN!" I shouted, demandingly. "DAMMIT RUN!" They ran in every which direction, still shooting at the enemy. Only one of my own was left, and a small amount of the enemy. It was Richards. He sat there looking confused.

            "Richards, get the hell out of there!" I yelled. "Richards! Kent!" I called his first name, hoping he would move. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! I ran towards him, but I had barely made it a yard, when it exploded. "NO!" I yelled and I was blinded and felt the heat burn through my heavy duty clothes.

            It happened in slow motion. I could barely think. The blaze subsided, in what seemed like thirty minutes, even though it was more like thirty seconds. I ran into the center, knowing I would not like what I saw. I saw dozens of enemy bodies littered all over the place. I made my way over to where Richards was. He was dead, and first degree burns covered him, so he was almost unrecognizable. His left leg was blown off and his eyes were closed. I almost gagged, from the smell.

            I fell to my knees beside his body and felt my eyes get watery, though I never let myself cry. Then I felt a sharp sting in my right shoulder and turned to see a man firing at me. I turned around quickly, and with shaking hands shot him, too. He fell to the ground.

            "It's okay Davis, it's over." My best friend, Thomas Farrell told me, quietly.

            "No Tom, it's not OK," I looked over at Richards who was on his first mission today. I guess, no matter how many of my men die, I'll never get used to it. Maybe, it is better that I don't. It reminds me that my heart isn't totally gone yet.