Purpose

I closed the door and sat on the ground with my back against it. The seekers will be here shortly, but something felt different this time. I couldn’t put my finger on it. I felt almost… calm. It was a strange sensation I hadn’t felt in quite a while.

I enlisted in the Recon Service a little over a year ago. My job was to scout the wastelands for food, supplies, livable areas, or anything else the Resistance can use to survive. In reality, all we did was hide, run, and hide again. Our last “hiding” mission wasn’t very successful. My entire team was either captured or killed by those ruthless beasts. It was just me now.

The room was in complete shambles. It looks like other seekers must have discovered the family living here and burned everything to the ground—probably with them still inside. As I tried to catch my breath, I could feel the dust and soot drying out my mouth. What I wouldn’t give for a sip of water. Too bad my canteen was empty.

My leg was throbbing, and I felt a warm trickle run down to my ankle. I probably got shot on my dash to the house. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. I always thought that if I joined the Recon Service, worked hard, and did my duty, I would be able to help the Resistance and make the world a better place. In the past year, I don’t feel like I accomplished anything. I’ve just been going in circles, running from the seekers, and helping nobody in return.

I heard a noise just outside the door. I could tell it was seekers by the clicks and grunts they use to communicate. It was a barbaric language; it suited them. Those noises used to send chills down my spine. If you heard them, it was usually the last thing you ever heard. But this time, I couldn’t care less.

Something happened between running for my life and the moment I sat against this door. I stopped caring. I was out of energy. The world’s problems were too much for me, and there was nothing left to give. I was only one person.

I patted my breast jacket pocket. It was still there: the single bullet that every Recon specialist carries. The easy way out. Looking down at my gun, it seemed almost inviting. No more running. No more fighting. No more caring. I could simply be finished.

I felt my hand run over the weapon, as if it wanted relief just as badly. I pulled it out of the holster and took a second to admire it. The seekers might find me at any minute, but why rush? It almost felt like time was slowing.

Calmly, I lifted the gun and pressed the barrel against the side of my head. I knew there wasn’t anything in the chamber, but the cold steel felt oddly good against my skin. I thought my heart would be racing in a situation like this. Instead, I smiled. A sense of overwhelming calm came over my body. The world was in shambles, but that wasn’t my problem anymore. I was at peace.

Wanting to take in my last moments, I put the gun at my side and laid on the dirty floor. The ceiling had collapsed, and I could see straight up through the roof to the stars beyond. Our problems really are insignificant. What would it matter if I were here or not? Who cares if civilization recovers or if the world ever gets back to normal? It’d make no difference to anyone or anything in the grand scheme.

I felt something poking into my back. Reaching my hand around awkwardly, I felt a small, smooth object with a pointed tip. Pulling it out, I realized it was a heart-shaped locket. It was badly charred in the fire, but with a swipe of my thumb, I revealed the shiny gold plating underneath.

It was beautiful. Two initials, “R.A.”, were engraved on the front in intricate script lettering. On the side of the locket, there was a small button. I pressed it, and the face popped open. Inside, there was a small picture of a family. The edges were slightly burned, but I could still make out shapes of the two parents, a son who looked to be around twelve years old, and a daughter who was maybe nine. They must have lived here. They also likely died here.

I stared at the picture for what seemed like hours. If the seekers found me, I’d have been happy to die looking into those pure, unaffected faces. There wasn’t much good with the world anymore, but somehow, seeing this family made me feel hopeful. My calmness was turning into clarity.

Perhaps it’s not my job to take out all the seekers or to single-handedly change the world. Maybe my job is to simply keep running for as long as I can. The more seekers chasing me, the fewer there’ll be to hurt innocent families like this one. Even if I don’t make it five minutes after opening this door, at least that’d be another few minutes someone else gets to share with their loved ones. That can be my gift to the world. Maybe I could make a difference, even if it’s just a small one.

I still felt the throbbing in my leg. I mustered some energy and pulled my weary body into a sitting position. My leg was bleeding badly, but it looked like the bullet just grazed me. I ripped off a sleeve from my jacket and tied it around the wound. Hopefully, that would hold long enough.

I knew I couldn’t take on more than two seekers, even with the element of surprise. They didn’t know I was in here yet. I could sneak out and keep running, or I could face them head on and try to take a few out with me. Either way, I’d keep at least a few of those monsters from hurting anyone else.

I removed the single bullet from my jacket’s breast pocket. Slowly, I got to my feet. My legs were still a bit unsteady but full of purpose.

Facing the door, I released the magazine from my gun. It was empty. I inserted the bullet, the one that was meant for me. I put the magazine back into the gun, pulled back the slide, and chambered my last round. I might only have one shot, but they didn’t know that.

In one hand, I had my gun. The locket was in the other. I took one last look at the family’s picture, closed the lid, and put the locket into the breast pocket where I had carried that bullet for so long. I still had some purpose left in me, even if it didn’t seem like much.

With a deep breath, I reached for the door.