The War Within

The sirens wail like a thousand screams, rattling the windows and my nerves. I race through the house, every step echoing the chaos outside. My heart pounds as I fling open the closet door and grab my backpack and my father’s.

Dad is a Marine. When the sirens went off, he bolted for his station by the river. We’ve prepared for this moment for as long as I can remember. I know what to do.

I sling the bags over my shoulder and rush to the window. Peeking through the curtains, I see utter chaos. People are screaming, running, shoving their way through the streets. Several blocks over, thick, black smoke coils into the sky like a dark promise. It’s coming from the riverside.

I breathe deep, trying to stay calm, and head out the back door. People panic. They make stupid choices when fear takes over. I search the skies, scanning for any sign of a threat. Nothing—yet.

Across the street, my neighbor’s family huddles on their porch. The mother clutches her children close, her face pale and tight. I cross the yard quickly.

“Hey, Debby. What’s happening?” I ask, though I’m not sure I want the answer.

She looks at me, her eyes wide and haunted. “The supers turned on us. That’s all I know.”

The air feels like it’s been knocked from my chest. “You should go inside,” I say, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Away from windows. Don’t open the door for anyone.”

Debby nods, scrambling to gather her kids. Her husband is somewhere in that smoke. I push down the thought and turn away.

The supers. Fifty years ago, the government decided it wasn’t enough to have strong soldiers—they needed unstoppable ones. They injected men and women with some new kind of steroid, transforming them into “super soldiers.” Bigger. Faster. Stronger. They were supposed to be our protectors.

When their service ended, they were allowed to blend into society. Schools, hospitals, police forces—you name it. We were told they were harmless, just like us. But when you put superior beings on your doorstep, greed and fear creep in. Dad always said anyone could turn on you. He didn’t trust them completely, even though he worked alongside them.

My watch buzzes, pulling me back. It’s Dad. Relief washes over me as I answer.

“Hello?” My voice shakes despite my effort to sound brave.

“Scout, listen.” His tone is clipped, urgent. “I don’t have much time. The supers are bombing the base. The next round is in twenty minutes. Go to our spot until nightfall, then go home. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. Where are you?”

“I’m still at the base, helping civilians and soldiers. I love you, Scout. Be brave and strong, got it?”

“Always, Dad. I love you too.”

“I love you more than anything. You’re gonna be alright. I promise you that. Now turn off your electronics. See you soon, kid.”

The line goes dead.

I shake with adrenaline as I sprint toward the national reserve. Hide in the trees. That’s the plan. Follow the plan.

The air feels heavy with tension as I run. Two planes roar overhead, marked with our symbols. I freeze, my stomach twisting. Those symbols don’t mean safety anymore. The planes streak toward the base, their engines deafening.

I watch, helpless, as they release their bombs. The explosion tears through the base, lighting up the sky with flames. The ground trembles beneath me, and I stumble, choking on the ash and smoke in the air. A mangled cry escapes my throat. Dad.

No. Follow the plan. He promised it would be okay. I cling to that promise like a lifeline.

The trees swallow me as I run deeper into the reserve. Here, I’m invisible. Every instinct screams at me to turn back, to find my father, but I know that would be suicide. I’m more help alive and safe. When the bombing stops, I’ll go home. Dad will come for me. Together, we’ll figure this out.

The night is eerily quiet. The only sound is the crackling fire in the distance, still burning. My legs ache as I make my way home, every shadow twisting into a threat. The streets are deserted, dark, and foreboding. The knife in my hand slips from nervous perspiration. 

When I reach the house, I creep up the back steps and unlock the door, slipping inside. I close it quietly and lock it behind me.

The moment I turn around, a tall figure traps me against the door.

I freeze, my breath caught in my throat. His hand catches mine mid-air, effortlessly prying the knife from my grip.

Up close, his presence is suffocating. He’s massive, towering over me like a shadow. His free hand brushes my arm, coaxing the knife from my trembling fingers. He tucks it into my back pocket and smirks.

“You must be Scout.”