"This is it"

[SubjectProphet]

As my previous modern day warfare story went pretty good I decided to extend that to something... more interesting. Modern day warfare is a speciality of mine, especially in stories, so I hope you enjoy this short story.

 

It revolves around the year of 2050, the area, unknown. It has been 3 years since a group of people who believed humanity needed to be "controlled" took over. A resistance movement formed, and continues to grow. The resistance is built of many nationalities.

 

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We once took an oath. That oath was to defend our country against any oposition, be it foreign or goverment. But it has been ruined by people who have gone mad. We take arms to bring it back.

 

Several cars drove by, as a toll stop lined with armed people checked the cars for weapons. These armed men had icons lining shoulders, and green camo outfits, armed with riot shields and SMGs. One car stopped, and a man checked it. After a few seconds, the main back door to the car was pulled open as people were dragged out, and a man said something as other people in other cars were taken outside, and thrown onto the sidewalk, where they were forced to stay, with guns pointed right at them. A man wearing a small jacked was pinned against the vehicle, and searched. The soldier searching him pulled a .45 mm pistol out of a pocket, and shot the victim. A man on the sidewalk stood up, but was told to sit back down. He didn't. Instead he grabbed a gun from a soldiers hands and opened fire. The resisting man was shot, and the car was driven off. The remaining people were loaded onto a bus, and the bus left, continueing down the highway. Just a measure of the recent controlling people.

 

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Year, 2050, an abondoned warehouse

 

A table with a chair sat in the middle of an empty room, as the world outside was gloomy and quiet. This was once a city bustling with people, and traffic was there everyday. But not anymore. Upon the chair sat a man, about 50, and on the table was a gun. An AK-47. 2 flashbangs and 2 frag grenades sat by the rifle, and a .44 revolver sat in a pouch by the equipment. A man with a vest walked in, and he was around 30 or 35.

 

"Welcome," the 50 year old man said. "You can call me... the commander." The man in the vest stood in front of the Commander, as he looked straight foward.

 

"Boy, you don't have to be so on ease. Here, we live by our own rules, not the rules those zombies made for us. They make us slaves, forced to live under a rule of containment. What we fight for here is what the world needs. Now, who are you?" The vested man sighed, and looked down, leaning on the table.

 

"Erik, Erik Mitomia. Ex US marine." The Commander smiled.

 

"I'm ex spetsnaz. As if I ever thought I'd be standing in front of an American." Erik grinned.

 

"Same, just vise versa." The Commander stood up, and picked up the AK-47. He held the rifle out, toward Erik.

 

"If you wish to fight for this, then take these arms. Or walk away a dead man," the Commander said. Erik grabbed the AK-47 as the Commander smiled.

 

"Welcome to the World Wide Resistance."

 

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Apartment Complex outro 557

 

7 men gathered around, each armed with a different rifle. Bullet proof vests were equipped, and face accesseries were different for each one. Erik sat at the top of the circle, toward the north. His rifle was in hand, and cloth was covering his face. A freeway bridge trailed above them, and metal fences marked "restricted" blocked access to certain areas, though most were thrashed and destroyed. The world seemed fogged, and gloomy. It was early in the morning.

 

"You got us here Mac, what now?" a man asked in a French accent. They each were different nationalities, and looked depressed.

 

"Ok. Those 'Earthly' soldiers as they call themselves, will be here soon. They plan to massacre this appartment complex because of signs of a militia. I say we show them we don't care. If there is a militia here, they join us," another man said. He had a British accent, and talked rather fast.

 

"Remember what these guys took from you. Your families, your lives, your own self. Don't think while shooting these soldiers. Just shoot," another man explained. He had an American accent, like Erik.

 

"Then what are we waiting for?"

 

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3 hours later

 

Two vehicles drove by, each black and shaded windows. A member of the resistance sat on a roof of a small building, and he pulled the bolt of his sniper rifle foward. He looked over the vehicles as the door opened. Several soldiers stepped out, armed with riot gears.

 

"Do you have visual?" someone asked over his radio.

 

"Yes, they're exiting the vehicles now. Be sure the charges are placed."

 

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A resistance member was placing C4 over grass, as he hurried along. The face was revealed to be Erik. He placed one more block of C4 and silently ran off.

 

"I'm set," he said through a radio. He crouched behind a stone wall.

 

"Copy."

 

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A group of men waited around, lined throughout the entire area. One waved, and a gunshot was heard. A sniper bullet, point blank to the head of a soldier.

 

"Move move move!" a resistance member shouted. The armed men ran out, shooting at the soldiers. A soldier grabbed a riot shield from the vehicle, and began moving toward the larger group. The sniper on the main roof shot the riot shield wielder in the back, as he fell over and dropped the shield. The other men handled the still living soldier.

 

"They're falling back! Erik, do it!" A sudden explosion could be heard, as the freeway collapsed and the debris smashed the vehicles. The soldiers were crushed, but some managed to survive, shooting the resistance members.

 

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Erik heard the gunshots, and put a clip into his rifle. He pulled the bolt back, and sprinted into the line of fire. He shot the soldiers from the backside, and the remaining soldiers were downed in seconds. The resistance members met up in a circle.

 

"Get those civilians out of the complex. They're with us."

 

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Resistance HQ, night

 

Erik tossed and turned in his bed, restless. The sound of the passing wind sounded like sighs, as he looked into the main doorway to see a man.

 

"Erik, come with me." It was a recent member he met. His name was Bryan, American ex marine, like Erik. Erik got out of bed and followed Bryan outside, where Erik saw a campfire. Several people crowded around it.

 

"Welcome to the new Earth. It's small now, but we will grow," Erik heard the commander say. Him and Bryan sat around the fire as the wind kept the fire going.

 

"I still remember the screams and cries of that final day, where the thunder roared like war drums. Where the nuke went off. The buildings fell. And I ran," someone said. He had a Russian accent, like the Commander.

 

"My family was dragged off in front of my eyes, as I was restrained and beaten by those who called themselves 'police.' I was saved by the nuke, which distracted everyone and allowed me to flee. The nuke sounded like a wildfire, spreading through the Earth, refreshing it into... this. Ever since, it seems like it is always foggy and gloomy. As if that's how it always will be," Bryan said.

 

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What do you think? I might write more. Depending on how this one goes.

[Maharg67]

Great but I would be interested in learning some more background information.

 

I look forward to reading more.

 

Are you going to have any futuristic technologies in your story?

 

Honorary kudos!

Edited February 1, 2012 by Maharg67

[SubjectProphet]

I might have futuristic tech, like drones and stuff that's in the making right now and planned. And I plan on using the next part of the story as a trip to the past kind of thing.