Gem Davis has always known she was different.
She's always been stronger and more in tune with her senses then the people she knows. After having a freak accident in the military, she decides to come back home to California.
But now after...
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Gem
When we got there, it was like a scene straight out of a horror movie. Crimson red blood is splattered on every possible open space of the hostage sight. Body parts are sprawled all over, I can tell by the size that some of them were once attached to small children. Six years of age at the most.
One stands out to me, small and thin, the dismembered arm of a small child. Completely torn off of its original body, the bone and muscle showing. This is the youngest I've seen yet, this poor child couldn't be more then four years old. I clench my teeth.
My stomach turns over in disgust, and I have to turn my head and look at something else. My anger peaks, and I almost loose control. Containing myself only by clenching my fists tighter on my gun.
Two obvious bomb points show, where two low caliber bombs were placed. The spots are easily recognizable, black ash like gun powder residue leaving a defining mark. We follow an increase of body parts and still flowing blood to a white tent, splattered with blood and grime.
Something is obviously wrong. We shouldn't have been too late. They had either given us the wrong information, or the refugees had completely gone off plan. What they did was mockery. Done just to spite us. It's a laugh in our face, a taunt. ' You're too late.' They were boasting.
Not one refugee is in sight, they have spited us and are now basking in glory. High on the victory of their grotesque triumph. They wouldn't leave the scene, no way in hell. They're too proud for that, they'd want to show off. They all still had to be here. And chances are, they're in that white tent.
I look back at my team, they all know what it means. There's most likely to be some kind of trap set up for us inside, they obviously knew we were coming. It's a look of content and appreciation. If we all don't make it out of this, I want them to know that I'm proud to have such worthy team members. In proud to have such good friends, I don't regret all of our hardships for a single second.
All five of them nod back at me, and a new determination fills the atmosphere. None of us want to end here, none of us want to mourn each other or be mourned. We have lives to live, people to save, and jobs to do. What kind of people would we be if we allowed ourselves to be defeated now, after all this hard work?
Slowly, carefully, we make our way into the tent. All of us nearly cry out at what awaits us.
Americans. At least a dozen full fledged American citizens. Each one differing in size and ethnicity. Talk and short bodies scattered around. Smirks lining all of there faces, no signs of any weaponry anywhere close. All of them wearing the uniforms of U.S. soldiers.
