Chapter Fifteen
Michael
“Now, son, you need a drink, or anything?” the mountain of a man asks.
“Your name, and a soda, please,” I say. Mountain Man chuckles.
“Chief Kent, at your service, sir Edmand,” he says with the slightest of smiles. A guard passes me a cold glass, filled to the brim with a brown bubbly liquid. I take a sip, and feel the coolness of ice wash over me.
“So, what do you need, Chief?” I ask, slouching in my chair.
“Well, see, son, we know you’re still recovering from your little… expedition,” Chief glances nervously at me.
Expedition…? I think rashly.
“Let me put it to you straight, son.” I wish he would stop calling me son. “Would ya like to join the military?”
“What?” I blurt.
“Son, with the world on the verge of World War Three-” I cut him off.
“What!?” I say again, angrier. Chief Kent’s face visibly darkens.
“They didn’t tell you?” he asks.
“Tell me what!?” I exclaim.
“Son, the world’s filled with terrorists. And those terrorists have taken over the world,” he lets this sink in, before continuing. “America, among many other countries, have been attacked by them. Ruined. And we are forced to fight back. Son, we’re building an army. And I want you to be in it.”
Realistic Fiction
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