Brighter Later prolugue
#2 of brighter later
Prologue
He stood in a dark room clutching a pistol to his side and seven dog-tags still caked with dirt and the long faded crimson stains of his family. . . . his brothers in arms. There was a knock at the door and he opened his eyes, slowly, oh so slowly, he awoke from the trance, he took in the sight before him with half-lidded mourning. Before him stood an old battered desk, strewn across its top were several manila folders overflowing with coffee ringed papers and pictures of long gone targets. The swell of mildew permeated the unfinished walls clouding the air and dimming the light coming from the single lamp sitting on the desk. The knock came again accompanied by a voice this time, "Sir, are you ok?" He made no attempt to answer and the door creaked open, sunlight flooding the small office.
"We need to go," said a young man carrying a semi-automatic rifle, "our motion sensors on 11th were tripped exactly three minutes ago."
He put the dog-tags back in his pocket and with a sigh he turned and faced the young man, "where's Johnson, Brandon."
"Follow me, sir." He followed the red-headed twenty-one-year-old out into the alley and the harsh sunlight. Trash and old newspapers littered the narrow path tripping up Brandon several times. They stopped at the end of the alley where Brandon stuck his head out and whispered, "Clear, are you ready." He nodded and Brandon turned and took off running toward the outpost facing 12th and then 11th street.
"You look terrible Johnson," said Brandon as he walked up, "I told you to get some sleep last night."
"Ya, right before you fell asleep," said Johnson laughing, "and we all know the princess needs her beauty sleep."
"Quit fooling around, how long till their here."
Johnsons face grew solemn, "ten minutes."
"Ok, we need to..."
Johnson cut him off, "Sam move!" Johnson reached for him. He turned and looked up as rocket came hurtling down at him, He heard gun fire and the projectile exploded sending him skidding across the ground. He lay there blood rushing from his shoulder where a piece of shrapnel protruded, he stared at his men and civilians fought of the attacking force. His vision has fading and he was seeing purple and red spots. The last thing he saw before blacking out was a ship pulling over them and blocking out the sun.
_"Rest my friend, you will need it," _The voice echoed in his head and died out.