Shades of War: A Collection of Four Short Stories Read Free Page A

on.”
                  Sparing a glance at the fires dotting the hillside, the man confidently climbed back over the lip and started crawling. Glancing over his shoulder, he smiled to himself as he saw the blue figure mimicking his movements. The dead and undead crawled south together.
     
    THE MAND AND the ghost had been walking south for half the morning. Even though the sun had been above the horizon for some time, the sky was tinted with a permanent orange haze that the sun just couldn’t seem to burn through all the way. The man figured it was a side effect of what happened a few weeks ago. Those damn EMPs had taken a perfectly good war and made it a mess.
                  "How much farther do we have to go?"
                  The man stopped and turned, glaring at the ghost. That had been the only question the kid had asked over and over again.
                  "I don't know. We just have to keep going."
                  That was his standard answer back at the kid.
    Kid. That's how he had to think of him. He tried not to let his thoughts drift to the new reality. As he walked he had been in a constant state of checking his sanity. Stopping, he turned to look at the spirit that was following him. The kid, just few yards back, was hovering a few inches above the ground. Without altering course he watched the kid's form drift through a pair of bushes and a tree. Watching the kid move through objects was pretty unnerving.
                  The undead soldier caught up to the veteran. Since he was a few inches off the ground, the blue figure was now staring down at the man.
                  "So, how much farther?"
                  The kid's voice was taking on a whining, complaining tone.
                  I need to stop this. He's not a kid and I'm not his mommy.
                  The veteran stared up at the kid.
                  "You tired?" The man demanded.
                  "Uh..."
                  "I bet you aren’t. But guess what? I'm exhausted. I'm tired, hungry and to be honest, I'm scared. I'm scared as hell. I can't even count the ways things can go wrong. All I know is that I have to keep moving. And that's what I'm going to do. I will keep moving. So do you want to come along? I can leave you if you want. You don't have to come with me."
                  "Please don't leave me. Please."
                  He had scared the kid. He felt mildly guilty about it, but he had to get the kid in the right frame of mind.
                  "What's your rank, son?"
                  "Private."
                  "Good, from now on I'm calling you “Private” or by your last name. You will call me sir. You got that?"
                  "Yes, sir."
                  "Perfect."
                  "Let's keep moving."
                  The kid didn't complain after that.
     
    THE NEXT FEW hours they had continued to stick to the rough terrain of the deep forest. They obviously had to avoid and roads or trails. Anything that could be used for travel by the enemy had to be avoided like the plague. In the frozen forest the only sound they heard had been their own. It was almost peaceful, if one forgot the war surrounding them. The man had been fairly certain that this deep in the forest they would be left alone. He was wrong because suddenly they heard a loud argument taking place in perfect in American English. The voices were out of sight, lost somewhere in the trees ahead, but the argument was perfectly audible.
                  One voice: “I don’t give a shit. You’re not in charge!”
                  Second voice: “What? The hell, I’m not!”
                  Third voice: “Guys, knock it off. This is stupid.”
                  The first two