The Uniform

I hated that smile. When Maria smiled like that, people died.

“How close are they?” My voice was weak with exhaustion. I could feel the pulse in my fingertips as I clutched my necklace; the smooth edges of the heart-shaped locket dug into my palm.

We’d been running from our pursuers for what felt like hours. I’d lost track of time when Maria and I had broken away from the larger group and made a racket of ourselves, trying to draw the soldiers away from our unit.

They’d taken the bait and we’d raced to an old warehouse, abandoned since the last war. I prayed that the inky darkness would conceal our tracks through the dust. We hadn’t had electricity for months.

We huddled in position behind a table; Maria smiling in anticipation. I shivered, allowing myself one more moment of terror before pushing it deep inside myself. My grip on the locket loosened and I let it fall against my chest. It was the only precious thing in my life, holding as it did the only picture of my parents.

Maria checked the battery-operated perimeter cameras on a handheld device. “They’re 2 minutes out.” Her face glowed with excitement.

Sometime in the last year, the shine had faded from the rebellion for me, but Maria was still a true believer. Her zeal for destroying the regime was exceptional, even including General Fuentes, the charismatic leader of our movement. When The Weapon was invented and civilisation had ended overnight, she had been the one to see the new regime for what they were. The beloved leader didn’t care about preserving supply lines or continuing our culture like she said. She just wanted power. Once I’d seen that, I had to join the rebellion. It didn’t even feel like a choice.

We’d mapped every inch of this city and made detailed plans regarding how and when to ambush the regime’s soldiers. This was the fourth time in as many months that we’d lured an unsuspecting unit to their deaths. What I’d once thought of as a righteous cause had soured as I began to suspect that the General and the beloved leader weren’t that different: I started to see the war as the two powerful women throwing bodies at each other until one was eventually victorious. We were all pawns to them; our blood, our very lives, meant nothing.

Maria’s head whipped towards the back of the building as the first soldier stepped carefully through the front. I brought my gun up and waited. I didn’t think that Maria knew about my doubts, but I made sure to act the dedicated minion around her.

We made eye contact. She signalled that she would check out the back to make sure we weren’t being surrounded. Panic crushed my chest. I nodded once, confident that my face showed only determination.

Maria ghosted past me, almost invisible in her black uniform.

Once she was out of sight, I dropped my arm and closed my eyes. I had seconds before the first soldier would see me. I had to get myself under control.

I took a deep breath. Two. Three.

I opened my eyes as the first brown uniform came into view. I was reminded of the genius of this ambush location as her frame filled the hallway. The soldiers could only come at me one at a time. Regardless of what I suspected, of the cost to my conscience, I lifted my gun. In a choice between my life and a soldier’s, I would always choose me.

I wanted until she was a few steps into the hallway and aimed at her centre of mass. I squeezed the trigger and didn’t let up until my clip was empty.

Blood roared in my ears as I ducked behind an overturned table and reloaded. I only had two more clips, but that should be enough. There were four bodies in the hallway and units usually consisted of 6 soldiers. I couldn’t hear past my own pulse to know if the final two were in front of me or if Maria was right in her suspicion about the back entry.

I stuck my head above the table for a moment, trying to gauge whether there were additional soldiers.

I had time to see a black uniform and merciless eyes before the gun she held spat fire inches from my face.

I faded quickly to darkness.