The new Year came and went and all was peaceful and calm until the 25th of January when a man’s body was found sitting upright underneath the tree of life. His face was bloodied and a single gunshot had gone through his right eye. He was identified as Mr. Brits, a local farmer, who had been missing for a few days. He lived out in a secluded ranch, by himself. He had no wife or children, but his sister who lived North from the town had informed the Sheriff that he was not answering her calls. They all assumed he would turn up eventually. They assumed right, but not in the way they had expected.
Robert’s heart was racing, his mind was troubled, as he furiously paced back and forth in his room.
‘It’s happening,” he thought to himself, ‘It’s really happening. What will happen now?’
“General! General!” a soldier shouted outside the window.
Robert looks out the window and sees the soldier urgently speaking to the General. The soldier points somewhere in the West. The General nods his head and follows the soldier in the direction he pointed him. Robert hurried out the door and by the time he stepped outside the sirens began to blare the awful sound of distress. It brought a chill to Robert.
Soldiers and people from all over the town scattered about the streets, rushed from one end to another. They all knew what to do, except Robert had the need to do more. He stopped a soldier passing by.
“What’s going on?” Robert asked.
“They attacked the North town and then passed by the other ones,” the soldier said. “I am heading on my way there with the General to see if there are any survivors. The rest of us are staying here.”
“Can I join you?” Robert asked. “I know a few people up North. I want to make sure they are all right.”
“I don’t see why, unless the General says otherwise,” the soldier said.
They left together.