Ruin and Revival

Chapter 18: Prodigy

COLE

I smile proudly, holding the rifle in position, as cameras flash all around me, a dazzle of lights and sparkles. The American flag waves behind me as a fan to my left creates the simulation of wind blowing. I step down from the pedestal, shaking hands left to right with dozens of random people I would probably never see again.

"I am proud of you son. People look at you and they see hope. They see their futures. We can win this war with you on our side," General Berthold's stern but wrinkled face crinkles in his grin as he pats my back encouragingly.

"I couldn't have reached this point without you, Bert," I salute and walk over to Kamilla, her curly black hair perfectly framing her face.

"Well, if it isn't my little celebrity boy. Don't let all these cameras get to your head though. I'm still a better fighter than you," She winks playfully at me.

"You wish. And I am not your little boy. Although, you could say I am the most celebrated boy in this country," I tease back, pushing my blond locks away from my face.

"Now, now, don't you get arrogant with me. Come here," Kamilla beckons me over with her finger, eyes luring me in. I bend down to meet her soft lips, a casual kiss. I bite back the bitterness of guilt as it threatens to overcome me. I would probably never see her again. She could be dead for all I know.

But I knew I didn't believe it.

1 YEAR AGO

I shiver on the cold, iron bench, awaiting some meeting with an official of "utmost" importance. Or at least that's what that pretty girl said. What was her name again? Right, she never gave it to me. I sigh to myself, leaning back on the bench and close my eyes. I am so drained...

"Wake up sleepy head," Her green eyes come into view, mere inches away from my face. I start, suddenly sitting up.

"Come this way," She is dressed in a leather jacket, cargo pants, and combat boots. She has been my trainer the last month, never once telling me her name nor her identity.

Everyday had become the same mindless routine. Get up, eat plain porridge, and go to the classrooms to play war games. The war games were basically simulations of armies and you had to try and beat the computer through strategies and tactics. I hadn't lost once. Lunch was, of course, porridge with dried jerky. God, I was so sick of porridge. Then, we were off to sparring with the other guys but I had become too good so I began training with her. Dinner was a handful of dried fruits and nuts before lights out at 9.

 But every night I would think about Arika and what she was doing. At least we are looking at the same sky.

The room is nothing special, plain gray and steel everything. It is Purple eyes sitting in the chair that made it feel more oppressive, suffocating, as if he is watching your every move.

"Please, sit," He gestures to the steel chair in front of his strange wooden desk. I hadn't seen anything wooden in a really long time. I clear my throat and slide into the chair, unconsciously shrinking into it, hoping to disappear.

"It's alright. Sit tall and be confident. There's nothing to worry about," She whispers soothingly in my ear. My eyes widen at the feel of her breath. Why does she always have to be like this?

"I believe I have met you once before. You were that kid I had to beat up, right?" I bite back my rage and nod my head, not uttering a single word.

"Anyways, I have heard many wonderful things about you. I am General Berthold by the way. A pleasure to meet you," He extends a calloused hand, those eyes piercing into mine just like I remembered them. I tentatively reach out and shake it.

"Um, my name is Cole and the pleasure is mine...sir," I take a deep breath and push my shoulders back. Fake it till you make it.

"From what I see from these reports, you are a child bred for war." I am taken aback. War! I had never even seen the like of one, never fought, never come in contact with a weapon before this.

"You are a brilliant strategist, yet your methods are risky and unpredictable and I have never seen the likes of it! And your fighting has become so superb that you are now training with my best, Kamilla. It seems that you are the only person I have seen that is the same age as her be able to come close to keeping up with her. She tells me you are ruthless and decisive and combined with your mind, you are a true prodigy. Just the miracle America needs right now,"

This was too much to take in. I wasn't this special, I couldn't be. I had never excelled at anything. Sure, I was a good basketball player and I made decent grades but the best? I was never the best at anything. Until now.

"I know this can be a bit much to take in but we don't have much time. I would like to start sending you out to the front lines. I want you to fight as a soldier for now but I expect you to take my place one day. You could lead this army and we can take what is finally ours. What do you say kiddo? Wanna save America?"

Sweat rolls along the side of my face, eyes widening in astonishment. How can this all be happening so fast?! I look over at Kamilla, pleading for comfort, for an answer. All I get is a nod of the head.

"Um, uh, alright sir. When do I start?" I wipe my palms on my pitch black jumpsuit.

"Tomorrow. I'll pick you up at 8'o clock sharp. See you then, kiddo,"