garrattj

Five-Minute fiction - 23:21-23:26

Fult felt the air rush out of his body as he collided with the ground. He wheezed and curled into a ball his hands covering his head and neck. Other figures, small, medium, large collapsed to the ground around him and lay there unmoving.

Slowly the rain of bodies seemed to come to a halt and he raised his head. The ground around him was littered with the corpses of men, women, and children. Most were dressed in little more than pants, or shirts, and those scraps of clothing were tattered and worn. Stained with all manner of substances from blood to mud. He tried to roll his head without moving, without giving himself away and, thankfully, he wasnt created by a hail of gunshots. Above him three men stood in uniformed grandeur passing a lighter between them. They stood with an easy grace despite the array of weapons they carried.

They were speaking but with Fults translator could not decipher the language, it was broken, or they were simply too much other ambient noise for the implant to discern any of the dialogue. Nevertheless he settled.