Rating: PG-13

Genre: War/Action

Overview: In a war torn world, two young men, Joshua and Brutus, are soldiers training in the army. After a competition is devised to figure out who will lead their own regiment, Joshua and Brutus become friends to minimize the competition. But as Joshua realizes that he is being used by Brutus, the two of them become enemies fighting under the same flag. Later their closest friend, Wilson, is killed in battle. Was their rivalry the cause of it? Will the two of them work together to make it out alive when all others are dead? Join Joshua as he recounts his short lived life as a soldier and the crucial battle that took place back at home and carried itself into the battlefield.

***

Have you ever been asked that question, "If you were ever lost in the wild, who would you want to be with?" You'd probably mention someone you respect, trust, love, and know can add to your chances at survival. Well I didn't get the luxury to pick and choose. I was assigned my survival partner during the invasion, and I didn't have any respect, trust, or love for him as he has been a pest all throughout my military life-ever since training camp.

The world is in the midst of another war and we, being the strongest nation on the planet, had to contribute to the conflict. The usual sparked the war-a crazed man who wishes to gain world domination. So we had to stop this man who had a kickass army and support behind him. Thus our country instituted the draft system, in which all males and females who were classified under Family A and is over the age of 21 are shifted off to training camp for six months, and then given a gun and told to go out and win the war. Family A includes those men and women who are not in college, are unemployed, and ironically have no family. These are the stubborn late bloomers in society, which the government wishes to put to "good use."

Anyway during training camp I used to know this jackass named Brutus. He was a quiet fellow, however, and peculiar. Everyone was drawn in by his hair. It flowed in the breeze and attracted not only comments from girls, but from boys and teachers as well. He was pretty short and of normal weight for his size, around five-six. He had a small scare right in the farthest corner of his eyebrow and a small birthmark on the tip of his nose that looked almost as a baby mole. He wore glasses and was blind without them. For the first three months at the camp we went our separate ways and paid no mind to each other. However, whoever graduated at the top of the class in performance and leadership, along with education and tactics, gets to head a small task force that will be deployed out in the battlefield within a regiment of a division of an army. As the top nominees were announced through the half-way point to promote competition, I found out that I was battling for the top spot with Brutus. From that day on, the rivalry had begun.

It wasn't until towards the forth month of our training that I decided to throw this nonsense competition out the window and try to equate myself with Brutus. I thought with the top two brightest and strongest students at the camp working together, we would be unstoppable. So we hit it off and began to talk to each other for a while. But, the more I got to know him, the more I knew that I was being used. He would ask me to do his work for him, to the point that to maintain our alliance I wrote a ten page essay on siege tactics for him the day before it was due. He sounded so lost and desperate that I couldn't help but to lend a hand to a friend. But, when all I asked from him in return was a little more respect and appreciation of me, he went nuts.

It was at the basketball court where he cursed me out in front of a crowd of my classmates a couple of weeks before we were to be shifted off to the war. I had continuously criticized him for not caring enough for me as I had cared enough for him. I had utilized all of my strength to maintain this relationship, but he'd always find a way to shit all over it. So on that day he decided to make a scene after I had asked him to come hang out at the mess hall with a group of my friends for a game of blackjack. I think he couldn't take it anymore. Not only was he losing his mind, but I was also beating him at the one on one basketball game we had in the courtyard.

"You know what Joshua," he turned to me after I had shot a three pointer hitting nothing but the net. "You are the gayest fagot I have ever met."

Now, normally Brutus was quiet and hardly got angry, but this time he was yelling, "Sometimes I think you're a bitch always asking me to 'care for you better.'" He started mocking me, "'Oh Brutus you don't give me enough love and stuff.' Stop bitching already. Don't you understand I don't care about your ass? You are only my comrade and I don't wanna see your face outside of the training fields. Leave me the hell alone!"

I was shocked; I had never thought he felt so annoyed of me. However, I didn't retaliate; I simply soaked in what he said; and to tell you the truth, it hurt. Why would he call me out and say I was a "gay fagot" when we're in an all boys training facility with men "dropping the soap" in the shower. All the men that he surrounds himself with always hug him and touch him inappropriately and make gay comments around him, but he would criticize me for wanting him just to give a bit more concern for me instead of treating me like a slave. It got me to the point that I was asking myself was it gay for a man to express one's emotions?

I left the ball court embarrassed and with a loss of respect from my other friends, which would affect me later when I became the leader of my task force-with Brutus in it. I went back to my bunk and began to read my Daily Inspirational Quotes pamphlet that was given to me by my father before I was drafted.

One of the quotes read, "It takes a man to express his feelings, a brave man to cry, and a gentleman to care about the feelings of others."

I carried that quote with me towards the invasion of the shores of Chemway.

***

It was a foggy, chilly April morning as the boats rocked back and forth along the wavy ocean current. Nature was steering us towards the shores of Chemway, where we were to break through the enemy's defenses and push our way through the territory that had once been occupied by our ally Intermodus. We were to push back the enemy and recapture the beach by all means necessary. Once there we would quickly mobilize and try to cut off the Tudor's transportation of arms and supplies which was being fed in from the east towards the Western Front. We would then squeeze the Tudor's Army till they surrender and work our way to recapturing the other half of Intermodus. This was called Operation Lost in the Wild, for we were to be fighting in the Unity Woods for most of the battle.

I could feel the boat creak and scratch up against the rocky stones of the shore as the hatch began to crank when we lowered the door. The minute the door opened, a bullet whizzed by and struck one of my men Eddy right dead in the center of his forehead. While he stood behind, dead before the battle even started, we had to charge into the barrage of bullets that was raining on us with a downpour. There was a storm of bullets knocking out both my task force of over a hundred men, and many other task forces storming the beach. A total of 35,000 troops were storming the beach, trying to turn the tide of the war.

A few of my men and I took cover behind a huge stone-for only a quarter of my men had made it more than ten steps out of the boat alive. Brutus was one of the lucky ones, but he saw all the dead and decided that he take his own path.

Two machine gunner nests were stationed at the edge of the forest from where we landed-there had to be hundreds more along the rest of the beach. We had to take out those two nests if we were to advance any further, unless we would simply just get slaughtered.

I told one of my men to grab the grenade launcher and put a couple of shells into the MG Nests. Scared and nervous as hell he reached behind him and yanked out his grenade launcher and began to take aim. I told another group of my men to draw the MG's fire which allowed the soldier with the grenade launcher to fire a shell and destroy the nest. Bodies exploded and flew into the air as a huge ball of flames erupted into the air, raining debris and shrapnel onto my men. Many of them suffered cuts and bruises, and I looked at the other MG Nest and noticed Brutus with one of my closest friends trying to take it out. They were using my same tactic, draw and fire tactic, but he was doing it with one man. My closest friend, Wilson, took many of the bullets to his chest while it took Brutus too long to load the grenade launcher. He had gone about it all wrong and timing was horrible. Now I was down a close man, probably the only man I could trust after the incident on the ball court.

I took the grenade launcher from my comrade and aimed it quickly launching a shell that impacted with ease and caused yet another explosion of bodies and flesh which turned the gray fog red. With the sound of bursting gun fire and sizzling flames, I rushed to my downed friend. But, it was too late, when I got to his side, he was dead. Not only had Brutus taken my respect from me, he had also taken my friend. I was furious. I wanted to kill Brutus, but then I noticed the carnage around me. We were already getting destroyed enough by the enemy, and I couldn't make another one of my soldiers an enemy.

But, I wasn't going to let Brutus escape without giving him a piece of my mind. So I followed him into the forest.

I caught up to him fairly soon and yanked at his uniform. He elbowed me in the gut, thinking I was the enemy, and then knocked me atop of the head with the end of his gun. I fell down with a thud and he turned around and pointed the gun at me.

Hands on the trigger he stopped himself short of ending my life, but he just sighed with frustration, "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" I repeated. "One I want you to follow my orders. I am the task force leader and you must heed to my command."

"Yeah, well your command got 75 men killed out there."

"And you got your friend slaughtered as well," I retaliated. Wilson was the mediator between the two of us, always trying to keep our relationship connected just by a thread to prevent us from totally destroying each other. But once he was gone, we had to negotiate the rest of the battle by ourselves. We were a nuclear reactor producing steam, without water to cool it.

"He wasn't my closest friend," he remarked.

I was so angry I thought I was going to erupt. I raised my arm with my fist pumped into the air and was about to really let him have it when suddenly we heard a loud whistling sound screeching through the air. Suddenly the planet shook and we looked at each other frantically.

"Mortars," we said in unison.

While he continued into the woods like a coward, I ran back towards the shore, to find out that the blast had knocked down so many trees that the beach had been blocked off by a natural barricade of bark. I had no choice but to catch up with Brutus.

When I did catch up to him, he was hiding in a bush and he yanked me down as he saw me walking up through the underbrush and nearly onto the dirt road that was paved through the middle of the forest.

"You trying to get me killed," he whispered in a harsh tone as I fell by his side. A patrol was passing by and I asked him what his crazy ass was planning to do next.

"Well I certainly can't go straight. I'll just be heading straight into more enemies. I think I'm gonna find a way back to the beach and grab one of them boats we came in and head back out towards the warships."

"For once I think I agree with you. Two men can't take out an army. Plus those mortars killed all of our men back there-," I gulped as the pounding thuds of blasts echoed across the forest. "For sure."

"Well then I'll lead the way, I'm not letting you lead me to the grave like you did with everyone else."

I wanted to fight back, but I held back knowing that he was partially right. Their blood was on my soul now and I had to live with all my men dying because of my lack of proper tactics. I felt guilty and sad, like I should be laying on the borderline of grass, sand and rock with Wilson instead of planning to run away from death. So, I just got up and followed him.

Surprisingly Brutus led us back onto the beach and I had been right about the suspected carnage that I tried desperately to avoid meeting face to face with. Countless dead bodies littered the beach and extended out into the water; as if the country was growing, a small island of dead bodies, arms, flesh and torn skin and bones were floating in the water. The shores felt devoid of the living; it was filled only with the stench of burning dead flesh and wood, along with the occasional salt water breeze. The red fog mixed in with the black smoke should have concealed us well, as we made our way towards the boat.

"On the count of three, we race across the shores," Brutus ordered.

"We're not even going to attempted to pick up the dog tags?"

"Too many, we need to get out now."

I looked besides him trying to hold back a tear of shame, until I noticed Wilson's body not so far away from me. I walked over to him and knelt by his side. I picked up his dog tag, trying to give him a proper burial within the sand of the beach. He was drawn into the middle of this conflict, not only the war, but the battle between Brutus and I.

I walked backed over to Brutus, who looked annoyed that I had gone off without saying a word. But he overlooked it, since I came back anyway.

"One, two-three!"

We raced across the dead bodies like it was training camp all over again. We were hopping across bodies with holes the size of basketballs splitting open the dead men's gut. Their bodies were tires and we were bounding through the obstacle course.

We made it towards the boat and we had to push the boat out of the sand and into the water. Suddenly, as we put all our strength into getting the boat onto the water, the boat began to make a loud creak that could be heard across the beach. Suddenly I saw a bullet whizz by me... they knew we were here.

"Get in the damn boat Brutus!" I yelled.

He didn't hesitate. He jumped into the boat and placed extra weight for me to push out onto the water. Suddenly, a bullet struck me right under my ribcage on the right side. I was slowing down, but I gave one last effort to finally push the boat out into the ocean, with Brutus in it alone.

"Aren't you gonna get in?" Brutus yelled with concern.

Another bullet struck my shoulder. It tore a new pore in my body and blood oozed out like sweat.

"Just go on, I won't make it," I screamed in agony as another bullet punctured my leg bringing me to the ground.

"But, I can't just leave you here," Brutus muttered as I noticed a tear gently flow down his cheek like a single raindrop before a sudden downpour of emotions that would soon begin to fall out.

"Just go!" I yelled. Another bullet grazed my cheek and blood was gushing out with each heartbeat. I was bleeding to a fast paced rhythm.

Another tear drop fell from his cheek and then he yelled one last thing, the one thing I was longing to hear for months, "I'm sorry," he sobbed three times. "I'm sorry. I'm-sorry."

"Don't worry about it; I forgave you the night after you made fun of me. Just don't say I hated you."

That was the last thing I was able to say as another set of bullets struck my feet, my left hand, my right hand, and then finally my forehead. A blur of blood filled up in my eyes and in my lungs as I was drowning in my own blood. I closed my eyes and tried to hide within the fog. But I hid too well-and got lost. The last thing I heard was the barrage of bullets, and the whooshing of the water as the bullets broke through the surface of the ocean and made it crack.

Now I can finally rest in peace with my comrades, especially Wilson. But I can't say the same for Brutus.