Market of Humans

I should have eaten that damn Mexican mixture that Lieutenant gave us. But because of my stupid mistake I was sitting with an empty stomach, drinking sun-warmed water with a sugar cube from a flask. Horrible in taste, but it works to satiate. I was holding a rifle in my left hand, and mine torso was hung with a bullet belt with no empty tabs. I was sitting against the wall of some demolished house, which probably fell victim to regular bombing raids. For the last 2 hours, three military planes have been flying over my head.I looked at the electronic watch on my right wrist – an hour before the operation was going to begin. Hardly anything remained of the suburbs of Portland – not many residents survived, and only burning ashes from the houses remained. As I was about to searching through the area, I heard only one loud scream—not from pain, but from despair. Apparently someone survived.I took the rifle and made sure it was loaded – it had enough bullets. I grabbed a black handkerchief and put it on my nose, mouth. A cold wind stretched across the ruins of the ruined mansion and stirred the crowns of weeping willows. I liked to think that trees wept when they saw the horror of war – I saw it with my own eyes.It's been exactly 5 years since I was drafted into the rebel army and 4 years since I started fighting in a war that took everything from me – my home, my family and my friends. All of this was lost in the bombing of military planes of a government that was struggling to maintain control over the country and the people. And how the authorities have spectacularly failed in their attempt to trick the poor and indebted.The recapture of Portland was a complex operation, requiring many stages – each side had more or less equal amounts of territory, but the strength of the current authorities lay in the south of the USA, specifically in Texas. The first phase of the attack on Portland has been executed, my team would have to carry out the second phase of the operation flawlessly – that mission was deciding in ensuring rebels victory.I narrowed my eyes from the cool autumn wind and leaned my head against the wall. The ceiling had long since collapsed from regular bombing, and you could see the clear blue sky and the shining sun in the distance.- I wonder if my parents are watching my actions – I thought – I hope not, because they wouldn't be happy with meI've killed more people than I could count on my fingers, in the last 4 years. I don't think my parents expected me to be a hardened soldier at the age of 12. Or rather they would prefere a naïve child playing football.My first exposure to the war was when my family was killed in the bombing of a Seattle suburb – I was in the basement looking for a family album from her wedding because my mom was asking for it because she was pregnant. As I rummaged through the cardboard boxes, bombs fell on the house, and my parents, my dad and my pregnant mother, were blown to shreds by the bombs.For 2 months I tried to survive myself, searching through ruins for water and food, which turned out to be not an easy task. In addition, winter was coming – I finally collapsed on the muddy path by the train tracks from cold and starvation.Then the rebels found me – they were impressed by my sheer determination to live and that I managed to survive for those 2 months, completely alone. They really wanted to enlist me in the army – at first I protested when I was recovering. The problem was that I had nowhere to go. They promised me that I would be able to avenge my family – and that was enough to get me into the army.I reminisced about those times, waiting for the signal on my watch to start phase 2 of the mission. Although living on my own made me stronger, I was not prepared for the horrors of war. I was still that naïve kid who liked to play basketball.And then I heard a rustling – a dirty peer was looking at me from the cracked wall.She wore a lengthy red zippered hoodie, a white T-shirt, and faded navy blue jeans. She also wore muddy black boots on her feet, and her dark blond hair were tangled and greasy. Her face was covered in mud, sweat and soot. But her gaze was fierce and focused. When she noticed me she hid her head behind the wall, and I wasted no time getting up from the floor and running after her.She was fast, I admit. She ran down the meadow as her pilled backpack swayed on her back – she wasted no time looking back, she just ran ahead. And then I noticed a glint in her hand – she was holding a kitchen knife with her. But she had no training or preparation in combat, so I quickly caught up with her.-Stop! – I shouted – Hands up and turn around!I heard a soft snort under her breath and the girl turned around – her face was sour, and her gaze was full of bitterness and pain. Her voice was like the same scream I heard when I searched the suburbs. It had to be her.-What is your name? I asked sharply- I'm Beatrice Delacroix, - she replied dryly, - And why do you care? You're going to kill me anyway.- Even if I get orders to kill you, I want to at least know the name of my victim, - I replied truthfully, - I would be no different from the government troop. I don't kill senselesslyBeatrice's face was flashed with pain, which was why she was walking here alone. Her family was dead, so she were probably looking for supplies – water or food. Just like I did before the rebels found me. But she had clothes and a backpack so she was able to survive on her own. Yes, her family had to be dead which is why she was running around, all alone.- Give me back your knife, - I ordered Beatrice, reaching out for her kitchen knife, - ImmediatelyWith a mask from ice, she gave me the knife – then she kicked my shank with all her might and moved forward. Beatrice grabbed the blade that had fallen from my hand and began to run forward as fast as she could.I was going to aim and shoot her down like a bird until I felt a hand on my shoulder – I turned my head and saw Lieutenant Anderson to my right. He gestured for me to stay where I was – the girl slowed down significantly until she suddenly stopped. Her legs shooked like a jelly and her whole body trembled – then she grabbed her head and fell like a log onto the meadow.I looked at the lieutenant in surprise. - The girl was on the verge of starvation when you found her. She used the rest of her energy and stamina to run and to hit you – explained the lieutenant – She probably knew that she would not go far, because her body was exhausted by starvation.+I nodded, but the lieutenant told me not to kill her. His eyes were shining with interest—he had the same look as when he and his team found me—with the intention of drafting me into the army. Was he planning to do the same with Beatrice as he did with me?I put the rifle on my back and ran to her – she must have been terribly starved because her skin was pale and her cheeks were sunken. I put her hand on my shoulder and carried her to Lieutenant Anderson.- Do you know the girl's name? - The lieutenant asked curiously.- Beatrice Delacroix. On the surface, she looks like my peer – maybe a year older or younger, but no more – I explained to the lieutenant – I don't think she can fight, but she's not stupid. She knows when to flee, but she has a sharp tongue. - Interesting, - the lieutenant replied enigmatically, - Your team will continue the mission, and I will take Miss Delacroix to the quarters. When she gains strength, I will discuss her situation with my superiors. You are dismissed, Ashton.I saluted and ran off towards the location of my team. I wondered - what the military will decide to what to do with her?