ATannie- this is the end chapter 8/9

    >”Uhm…. I sort of forgot it”
    “Then I am afraid I cannot lend you a car”

    >your world collapses in front of your eyes by the polite words of the German

    >”I-I swear I have one, sure you can't contact-”
    “I am very sorry, mister, but the rules does not allow me to lend you a car unless I have your physical driver's license to see”
    >”I understand, but the case

    “EEEEEXCUUUUUUUSE ME”

    >You turn your head around and see Mrs. Want-to-see-manager

    “If ya’ll don't have any business here, you better get outta my way, and stop wasting everyone's time!”

    >Annie makes a low, hissing sound
    >Probably the best imitation any human could do of the gun breech of an ISU-152 assault gun slamming shut
    >Oh how you wanted to slam her face into the cold and shiny stone floor and paint it red with the inside of her he'd while her children were watching

    >But that would of course be impossible, as sad as that was
    >Instead Annie takes the wheels and rolls the wheelchair a few meters away
    >she must have sensed you were very close to doing something stupid
    >you follow her, instead of wasting one more breath on speaking to Mrs. Cuntsalot

    We tried…
    >”No. Stop. None of that. I'm not giving up”
    “What can we even do anymore?”
    >”If we can't rent a car… I'll buy us one”

    >You find a row of benches, roll Annie over and sit down
    >fire up that cell phone, massive payment for data be damned
    >Google: German used cars website
    >Filter: Working vehicles only
    >Place: close to my location
    >Sort: Price, Ascending
Anon…
>”Don't worry, I'm looking at cars right now”
Yeah, but-
>”No worries. We will take a taxi there and-”
Anon! Please…
>”Sorry, I'm just stressed. What is it honey?”
I… i can't feel my feet
>”We will have you in Switzerland by tomorrow, I swear”
I don't have long now. Please, if something happens, promise me-
>”No. Were not doing that now. And I've found us a car. Come, we're getting a taxi”

[Unknown Munich suburb, 20:27]

You should have asked if he spoke English beforehand
>”Uhh…”

>You had just lost out on a light blue 1987 VW Golf CL
>It had more miles than steam locomotive and less power than the average ceiling fan
>But the guy only wanted 250 euros for it

>of course, it was very difficult to have any sort of conversation with him because of the language barrier
>So that went down the drain
>Now the sun had started setting in this unknown new land, and you kept looking for any form of transportation

>”I'm so sorry I screwed this up Annie. I was stressed, scared, and i didn't think enough. And it goes to you now. I fuck up and you get hurt”
You try your best...
>”I need to step my game up. Because the best girl in the world is getting away from me. My best isn't-”
Wait. Stop.
>”What?”
Just now, what did you call me?
>”The best girl in the world?”
Ah…

>Annie remains quiet for a few seconds

Anon…?
>”Yeah?”
You think you can hold me for a minute?

>You don't reply
>Just walk around the chair and pick her up, and sit down on the sidewalk with her in you lap
>And hold her
>Tighter than you have before
>Closer
>Your eyes stay closed for a few moments, just taking her in
>The beat of her heart
>The scent of her hair
    >When your eyes open, an older man, probably in his early 60s stands and look at you
    >You scoff a little and jokingly shout at him

    >”Selling your car, old man? I need one”
    “This one, no”

    >to your great surprise, he turns to you and answers, while giving a light pat on the bonnet on the car he is standing by

    >”I'm sorry to bother you, I was joking and didn't think you would understand me”
    “But you do need a car?”

    >Annie keeps holding you, feeling how this conversation is for jest more than anything

    >”I do. Ehem, we do. Annie here needs to get to Switzerland as soon as possible”
    “Blitz honeymoon?”
    >”I'm wish. Medical reasons”
    “How much… gelt do you have?”
    >”500 minus the taxi here”

    >The old man sighs

    “Ein Traum stirbt, so kann ein anderer leben…”
    >”What?”
    “Come with me, and take your wife with you”

    >You pick up Annie in a Princess carry
    >Her legs feel… different. Not the soft you have been used to. It's something else
    >She whimpers a little from the pain, but doesn't complain
    >he walks by a mid 90s silver Mercedes and towards a garage

    >His entire garden, the little there is, has perfectly trimmed grass
    >some flower beds, also very neatly arranged
    >The garage doors slide open, without any creeking at all
    >Hinges must be well oiled

    >You can set Annie down on a large workbench
    >once again, very clean, tidy and neat. And all that
    >It’s a two car garage. One of the slots was empty, probably where the Mercedes would be parked
    >Next to it, something small, covered by a tarp

    “My wife will be over-enjoyed…” The man said, as he ripped the tarp of the little car “This is the last vestige of my youth”
    >Under the rarp, a car that once must have looked great, but was now run down now
“1983 Alfa Romeo GTV6”
>”Whoa…”
”Bought this off the line in 83, when i worked with the Luftverteidigungsdiesel”
>”The what?”

>The man chuckles softly to himself

“Never mind that. 300 And it’s yours”
>”Does it work?”
“Yes”
>”Done”

T-thank you so much, mister. It means the world to me. Us

>Annie is completely shocked
>Immediately, you get your wallet and get the man the money he needed
>Just before he is about to take them, some shouting is heard from the house
>The man responds and looks at the half crumpled banknotes you’ve had in your back pocket for a while

“That all you have?”
>”Well, not exactly…”

>He takes a step back and points at the car

“Get in, get out. And don’t scratch Mercedes. I’m having white asparagus for dinner”

>You’re absolutely stunned, staring at him as he rolls the tarp up
>When he finished, he lowers his rimless glasses a little and look at you

“You both look rather stupid now. if you drool on the floor, you have to clean it up”

>Without really being able to say anything, you nod and run back out to the big duffel bag and stuff it in the back of the old Coupe
>The man stays and looks at you until you’ve liften Annie into the passenger's seat and very carefully driven out past the other car
>Last, you’re given a few papers simply saying the car is yours
>And with that, the man returns to his house for a dinner with his wife
>You're left outside, still as shocked as Annie is

He can't be serious…

>”Sorry, you're more important” you tell her and speed off
>for the next half hour,you mumble incoherently and Annie stays silent while trying to get out of Munich and find the Autobahn heading south
>You wanted to give Annie the phone to try and look for the best route, but her fingers had gone awfully stale and she could barely move them
>At this point she was pretty much reduced to something that could do nothing but sit down and speak
[Bundesautobahn 96, westbound. A few miles outside of Munich. 19:25]

>A decision was to go west south-west at first, following the A96
>It was heading towards Bodensee, the largest lake in germany, but more importantly, the Austro-German border
>Here, you would normally go to friedrichshafen and take the derry directly into Switzerland, just to deal with one border crossing less
>But the last ferry had left for the night, meaning you had to drive through a small bit of Austria

>”Annie?”
Mhm…

>her voice was weak and whimpering

>”We’re just a few hours out. We’re in Austria in just half an hour. Just hold out a little more. Can you do that for me?”

>one, two and three times she tries to speak
>But she can't say anything
>nothing at all
>She takes a deep breath to try and speak, but nothing else than hoarse, pained coughs
>You reach with your right hand, and gently caress her thigh
>An attempt to be reassuring?
>to tell her you was there?
>She does manage to move her own hands and very weakly grab yours
>once again, a far cry from what it used to be. No where near strong enough to lock it in place like it used to be

“Just a few more hours, Annie. Please stay with me a little more”

>The reply she manages is little more than a hum, a breath
>And Annie gets worse with every passing mile
>Her little whines and whimpers got more frequent as you closed the Austrian border
>The passing was… completely uneventful
>A well dressed man in a booth looked at your passport, and then at Annie’s, pressed a button and you could leave Germany on a wave of V6 howling
>The car is at highway speeds again, and the howling settles down to a growl
>Your hand is once again turned to Annie’s lap
>She tries as best she can to get a grip on your hand
>But it’s not much
>Very soon after entering Austria, you drive into a tunnel
>A 5 mile tunnel, taking you under some city or another, didn’t matter much
    >But very soon after entering the tunnel, some concerning signs appear
    >Cars parked, squeezed up against the right side wall
    >And people running backwards, towards the north entry you came from
    >You roll down the windows, but all shouting is in german, so you don’t really know what’s going on

    >”Anyone know what’s going on?!”

    >As you shout, a family of four jogs past the old Alfa
    >The man waves his hand, clearly signaling you to turn away
    >But turning around wasn’t an option, this was part of a motorway still

    >Annie tries to hum something, but it is mostly inaudible

    >another half mile, and someone answers what you are asking
    >It’s a roadblock up ahead
    >Cars flipped over
    >People being aggressive and throwing things

    “They are crazy! Turn around, you won’t get through!” the man shouts

    >Your fists are turned white from clenching the wheel

    >”Shit…”
    Anon…
    >”No! Noo! We’re getting through this!”

    >You shouted that, and floored the throttle, almost through the floor
    >further up, some black smoke was collecting in the ceiling of the tunnel
    >Another few minutes of driving, and the you see what it is all about
    >A dozen men, shouting in a language you didn’t understand
    >but it sure as hell wasn’t german
    >A big SUV lay on the road, slowly burning
    >two, or three people lay in front of it
    >And a half dozen men screaming around it
    >A few cars stood around
    >If you moved that little roadster out of the way, you could probably get through
>”Shit, we have to find another way. Please hold on for me Annie. Just a few hours, i promise i will-”

>At that moment, you moved the gear lever right and down for reverse
>The gearbox, however, wasn’t at all happy with this and made a sound not too unlike a gearbox exploding
>Probably because it did
>The entire car shook as the gearbox disintegrated, threw little pieces all over the road and covered it transmission fluid
>this caught the attention of everyone
>The six men looked up at you, and two of them started moving towards the car

>”Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Don’t worry Annie, i got you”
N-no. Stop. No more. i can’t even move and even breathing is hard now

>They men were maybe 150 meters away now

>”Do NOT give up now!”
My job is to protect you Anon… never forget i love you?
>”Stop!”

>Her voice was pained, just speaking hurt her so much tears fas building up in her eyes
>not saying much, yours was panicking

It’s a tunnel, so you gonna have to make some earpro…
>”Annie, for the love of god, i can save you”

>you run out of the old car, and rip up her door, probably breaking something in the process
>Clip up her seat belt, and receive a hard shove in the stomach
>As a last defiant act, she takes two steps of her own, almost falling over
>And then an embrace

It’s my time to save you. One clip, make it count. I love you
    >And before you can say or do anything, you are no longer embracing a woman, but a very familiar rifle
    >from deep in your shock, you can hear the men shouting in the distance
    >They did this
    >slowly, all your others rolled away in favor of hatred and hatred alone
    >suddenly, the 50 lbs rifle feels featherlight
    >you heave it up on the roof of the ruined Alfa Romeo, letting the bipod legs dig into the aluminium roof
    >dig around in your pocket for some paper, you find something
    >could be a receipt, a banknote, a tissue
    >you had no idea
    >it was torn in two, chewed and sloppily shoved in your ears

    >Annie wanted to protect you
    >And she got hurt
    >They did this
    >They hurt Annie
    >You would show them exactly what happened if you hurt Annie

    >the two were heading towards you, now at 50 meters or less
    >but, instead of walking side by side, like one would normally do, the smaller man walked behind the bigger one
    >to take cover
    >if you had fired paintballs at them, it would have been a viable tactic
    >but it appears these men were too busy growing bears to read up on what “Armor piercing” was

    >The trigger falls
    >the muzzle flash is blinding and your eardrums cry in pain from the sound of the blast bouncing of the walls as the PTRS screams out its hatred for the whole world
    >But no matter how much the rifle kicked your shoulder or screamed in your ear, it was nothing compared to what it did on the other end of the barrel
    >just as expected of an armor piercing projectile weighing six times as much as a .308 and going a lot faster, the results on the receiving end was absolutely devastating
    >There wasn’t much left of the first man’s torso in front, and even less of the man behind him
    >fueled by adrenaline and hatred, you walk tall towards the remaining men, rifle held high
    >they were screaming
    >out of fear?
    >hatred?
    >to try to intimidate you?
    >you would probably never find out
    >Another man was hit by an armor piercing 14.5mm projectile
    >His fate was the same as anyone hit by a round like this
    >You didn’t hear the casing hit the ground, because your ears were ringing
    >As soon as your eyes had adjusted to the lower light level in the funnel from the muzzle flash, the rifle sang again
    >It turned the man on the receiving end to a red mist

    >Normally you would have complained about the weight of the gun
    >The recoil
    >The blinding muzzle flash
    >The eardrum-shattering noise
    >But not today

    >Today, right now there is only hatred
    >they did that

    >You cough heavily as the next round leaves the barrel
    >The rifle slams into your shoulder yet again like a kicking stallion
    >The man on the receiving end falls to the ground, dead about the same time the shell casing hits the floor
    >You only see one left, hiding behind the car
    >The SUV he was hiding behind was tall enough to not hide his feet
    >You aim somewhere where you think his center of mass is

    >One fourth time, the trigger falls
    >The screaming at somewhere in front of you tell you something has been hit
    >You walk up to the burning SUV at a brisk pace
    >There is a person behind it
    >And one thing that once was a person
    >The one that was still alive sees you
    >the burning hatred in your eyes
    >the gigantic gun

    >he reaches for something
    >you had no idea what, but you point the gun at his general direction and pulls the trigger
    >the round didn’t hit, but the blast from the muzzle was massive, and lie lied down, covering his ears and screamed

    >He brought this upon himself
    >he did this
    >he hurt Annie

    >Something in him forced himself to try and get up, lift himself off the road
    >the animal that had grown in you the last minute doesn’t give him one chance
    >the underside of your shoe meets his face with all the might you leg could muster

    >And just like that, the animal dies
    >Your hands start shaking
    >you throat gets dry

    >”Annie, you can get out now”
    >”...”
    >”Come on Annie, they are gone now”
    >”Please, you did save me, come and look…”
    >”I’m right here”
    >”Please, Annie”
    >”Annie…”
    >You’re left in the tunnel with ringing ears, a dry throat, and blinded eyes
    >The adrenalin that had fueled you a minute ago was all gone, your arms shaking like jello
    >The rifle once again feels like it weighs fifty pounds, even far heavier than it usually did
    >It was heavy
    >god it was heavy
    >Like your arms wouldn’t, or couldn't carry it
    >When your ringing ears gained a small amount of their regular hearing back, you picked up a faint and almost ghostling hum from the rifle itself
    >You looked down at the rifle, and your chest immediately deflates at the sight of it
    >it was...for lack of a better term, fucked
    >The wood was cracking and splitting up like a 69.99$ Mosin, deep canyons and splices cutting up through the wood as if it were put into a vice
    >There was so much metal flake residue building up in the muzzle brake that you almost couldn't see into it
    >The receiver was cracked, and even still a faint trail of smoke could be seen wafting from it
    >Above all, the entire weapon looked as if it were covered in scratches
    >not the little ones a gun gets from wear
    >No, it was the deep ones a gun would get from when someone forcefully dragged a screwdriver over the surface
    >keying a rifle basically
    >Above all it felt like the rifle was under the pressure of the heaven's itself, as if it were stuck in between two brother ends of a magnet
    >Strangely, now was where panic started to get ahold of you
    >Annie… has to get out. You have to get the bolt out
    >It felt so unnatural that the hairs on the back of your neck stood out, and a worm of worry wiggled its sickly way into your stomach
    >But…disassembling the rifle in a motorway tunnel wasn’t really an option
    >Instead you cradled it in your arms and jogged back to the parked cars
    >You had to get out of here
    >towards the line of parked cars
    >Someone must have left the key in(ändrad)
    >Of course it had
    >You heard an engine running
    >An old grey VW Passat
    >Which probably was the european equivalent of a silver 2006 Impala
    >Your panicking, shaking hands try time and time again fold the seats to get the rifle in the car without having to take it apart
    >The barrel is removable, but that just didn't seem like the right thing to do
    >In a half assed attempt to cover a 7 foot rifle, you unzip your hoodie and gently slide one arm over the barrel and the rest near the receiver
    >Try keep her a little warm
    >one head headlight was broken and the front bumper was cracked
    >But it still sang a clattering diesel song, and the wheels still spun
    >So you jumped in and drove
    >And drove and drove
    >Through Austria
    >Through the forested flatlands in all their green
    >Then into the hilly areas as they turned into alps
    >It wasn't winter or even fall yet, so it was green and not the white snowy alps so far
    >there was still hatred left in you
    >They did this to Annie, they made you do it, they didn't even give you a choice
    >But fear had started to slowly creep it's way up your spine
    >Maybe firing the rifle after she got in wasn't a good idea
    >Maybe you could have managed these people without it?

    >There was probably some tire iron or something in the car
    >but then would Annie have done that in vain?
    >Was firing the right thing?
    >Giving up wasn’t an option
    >She didn’t give up on you
    >You would follow through
    >You had to

    >most of Austria was put behind you in just another hour
    >Or something like that
    >you would probably not have noticed if there was a dinosaur standing next to the road
    >Your head was somewhere else entirely
    >could she still be saved?
    >You had to
    >Had to try at least
    >most of Austria was in your rear view mirror at this point
    >Or something like that
    >you would probably not have noticed if there was a dinosaur doing the charleston next to the road
    >Your head was somewhere else entirely
    >could she still be saved?
    >You had to
    >Had to try at least

    >No. None of this “Try” shit. That implies it might not work
    >Annie will be fine
    >Just drive to the Mother, she will understand
    >She will fix Annie
    >And then it would be next weekend, she will fall asleep with her head in your lap watching some shitty B-movie
    >Everything will be fine
    >With just that monologue, you arrived at the Swiss border
    >There wasn’t much cars there, since the clock was approaching midnight
    “Passport?”
    >”Sure”
    >You dug it up from your back pocket and handed it over to the clerk in the booth
    >He looks at it
    >And then at you
    >And then at the back seat
    >...
    >You mumble a curse to yourself
    >You could probably speed away
    >The little wooden stick in front of you would lose a battle against the VW
    >But then the police…
    “Are you the world's worst weapon smuggler?” He said, bending at the side slightly and tapping his pen on the side of the window
    >”Oh, that thing? Not really no. Made out of some pipes and sheet metal. It’s kinda fucked though. And because you're in uniform, i will inform you that it is in fact not working”
    >The man chuckles a little
    “Go ahead then, that could have been embarrassing for the both of us!”
    >”Yeah, you take it easy”
    “Have a safe drive, and welcome to Switzerland!”
    “Thanks”

    >The Passat chugs away, leaving the booth behind
    >You are busy being in shock for three minutes straight, and can barely keep the car on the road
    >When your brain returns to the land of the living, you try to concentrate on finding the way there
    >First intersection as soon as you entered was a right turn onto a road called something “3” or “43” depending on where you were
    >For several hours you try find your way, get lost, go back and get on right track again
    >try make the trip computer cooperate, fail at that, try read the german signs, fail at that, try google translate, run out of data and get more stressed for every passing minute
    >Did this have some time limit?
    >Would you arrive and someone telling you “sorry, you were just too slow”?
    >But another petrol station, and another tourist map later gave you the info you needed
    >You had to go a lot lower down and further north than what you expected
    >And then head to a road leading south into a little town amusingly called “The angel mountain”
    >Precisely what you were looking for

    >You remembered exactly what angela, the Hammer had written
    > It had said ”The mountain of angels, cross the river two times until you get to the restaurant at the end of the world. from there, it’s only one path from there”

    >While part of that sounded like it was from the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy, you were certain these things had to be a little cryptic for one reason or another

    >as the miles pas by, the lack of sleep, jet lag and time difference is starting to get to you
    >but no matter how heavy your eyelids were right now, you had to be strong now
    >one mistake now could turn into a very long time of regretting things

    >You tried to stay awake by turning the temperature way down, opening the windows and playing late night swiss radio

    >Late night swiss radio was very strange, but you did find a radio station playing a little faster music, more suited for not-sleeping
    >with the help of some electronic mishmash playing from the speakers, the horrid droning from the diesel engine and the sense of duty keeping you awake, the lake finally shows itself on your right side
    >A beautiful mountain lake, that would soon reflect the peaceful green and white alps on its calm surface
    >sadly you were to angry at a man in a white Opel van in front of you to look much at the lake
    >Why was he doing the speed limit anyway?
    >much to your annoyance, you saw an airport just as you turned off the main road and into a 2 lane mountain road
    >You could have landed here instead and skipped out on all the rest of the issues
    >Then again, this was very much an airfield and not an airport
    >the triple seven that took you across the atlantic would probably be a tad too big to land there

    >Whatever, it was always easy to be smart with the result in your hand

    >the road took you deeper, further south into the mountains
    >Even in just the moonlight, you could still see the peaks towering above you
    >they were stretching all the way to the sky
    >And somewhere, maybe between some of these, someone could probably help you
    >No, not probably
    >She would be able to help you
    >you haven’t come all this way for a maybe

    >And while there wasn’t one bit of truth in that, it felt nice to say
    >You didn’t actually have any guarantees at all
    >You had crossed the atlantic ocean for a maybe

    >Not long after, the valley started to feel smaller kind of like the mountains were greedily hogging all the flat ground
    >as if the mountains were watching you and funneling you to your goal
    >It felt so uncomfortable after awhile you turned down the music a little
    >Perhaps they were angry you dared play electronic music and ruin their serenity
    >Maybe it was just a ghost created by your overtired mind
    >time went on
    >miles passed by
    >for almost 30 minutes you didn’t meet a single car on the road
    >people probably had better things to do at 4am on a sunday morning
    >or was this Saturday?
    >The time zone was different, forwards or backwards?
    >Just these calculations were too difficult for your mind right now
    >it was tough fighting sleep now
    >but as soon as the sun goes up it would refill your energy and fighting spirit
    >fight of sleep for another two hours you thought to yourself
    >Sun would get up at maybe 6 am here
    >Just a little more effort and you would be there
    >It's only the rest left

    >you tried to fill your head with positive thoughts but the sheer fright of what lay ahead flooded everything else
    >there wasn't any getting away from it
    >you were scared
    >scared your efforts weren't enough
    >scared you wouldn't see Annie again
    >scared this was all in vain
    >You angrily rubbed your forehead with the palm of your hand, sighing into them as sleep still fought for control

    >Another hour, another bunch of winding miles of mountain roads
    >another few villages and vineyards
    >at last you arrive to what looks like or can qualify as a town and not a village
    >with exactly the sign you were looking for

    >”Mountain of angels…”

    >you said it out loud, just to confirm it to yourself, but even then the words didn't seem to reflect the behemoth of a mountain that lay ahead
    >you were really here... so close after so much shit
    >you slowly crept through sleepy little town, looking for that T-junction you were told was going to be here
    >A right turn, and then keep on that road
    >it wasn't much driving left now
    >one crossing of the river
    >another few miles
    >a second cross of the river
    >your fright was starting to mix with excitement and… hope?
    >and just like that
    >the road ended

    >the only thing you could see when green, green mountains
    >the road, disappearing behind a bend not far away
    >A parking lot, and this restaurant
    >was this the end of the world?
    >ot almost felt like it, considering how long it took to get here and how abruptly it all ended
    >there isn't a single car in the parking lot, so you get out and have a look around
    >the mountain air was cool and felt amazingly clean
    >You draw in a huge breath, the crisp air snapping away from of the fatigue that clung to your body
    >The parking lot asphalt crunched slightly under your heel as you turned, and smelled something that should not even be near such a clean source of ai-
    >Ah
    >Your little VW seemed to be the culprit
    >05:36 the clock in the car said
    >this really had taken all night
    >But you couldn't see the path that was supposed to have seemed obvious
    >you walked a lap around the restaurant and didn't see anything
    >mountains on three sides and the road you came from on the fourth, poking your head where it shouldn't have probably been


    >Was this the right place?
    >it certainly felt like the end of the world
    >but then again, so does many other places. Probably
    >even many places around here
    >a restaurant stuck into a Swiss mountain valley like a thumb tack on a map
    >Fear and panic was building up again
    >Could you risk another day of driving around with the gun in the car?
    >You didn't have much fuel left either
    >And the restaurant…
    >you were so deep in thought you didn't see the van parking close to the entrance
    >A rather fat got out of it and turned, staring at the scraggly looking American gawking in the parkinglot
    >it's at this point you realise you left the car door open and he probably saw what was in there
    >you were ready to do anything at this point, if he tried calling someone, or-
    >Before you realized it he clicked his tongue in annoyance and ducked into his little van
    >He came back out with a loaf of bread in his arms, fixing you with an annoyed stare
    >You stared back at him with such mental wandering that you didn't realize he had thrown the bread at you until it bounced off your chest
    >Snapping back awake you scramble and clutch the soft crunchy bread, looking back at him confused
    >He waves his flabby arm towards the foot of the mountain, his great belly swaying as well

    “Schnell, Kinder. ”

    >You look like a complete idiot, staring at him as if he was ghost
    >He growled, casting his eyes to the sky and keeps waving his arm in a direction and repeating the word he said
    >you get back in the car and drive the few yards you can in that direction
    >the only thing here was trees and branches
    >you look back to him
    >he now looks smaller, but cries out again and mimics an aggressive styled walk, then jabs his hand back at the mountain
    >finally getting the hint, you get the heavy rifle out of the car and start your March
    >the path… wasn't a path
    >more like just walking up a mountainside
    >but the steeps wasn't that steep
    >And the route was marked up by piles of some rocks stacked in a random but methodical way
    >you could always see at least two of these
    >the one you were at, and the one you should be heading to, like little flags to keep the weary wanderers on track
    >your tired legs carried yourself and another 50 lbs up the slope, your calves burning
    >the sky had gotten a lot lighter in the last hour
    >the sun would come up at any minute now
    >hopefully filling you with energy
    >it worked, somewhat
    >not that you planned on giving up anyway
    >maybe rest an hour…?
    >No, none of that
    >but, five minutes
    >as soon as you reached that peak, you would take five minutes off and eat the piece of bread the man gave you
    >Just five minutes
    >it was an 800 foot climb, vertically
    >meaning a few miles with constant incline

    >it’s not like you were a landwhale or anything, far from
    >But the strain of not sleeping, eating and not quite being in top condition had started showing itself in your ragged breath
    >Finally, the sun peeks over the mountain on your right
    >It casts a welcome warmth on you and beloved rifle
    >It also made the last 30 minutes of climbing up the mountain more bearable

    >It was much like your journey here
    >After the night and unknown, the sun rises on the goal and victory
    >... atleast that is what you said in your head, as you look up and see there is quite a bit more mountain to go
    >that at least means you could take that 5 minute break
    >Sit down on a hilltop, a thousand feet over the surrounding terrain
    >everything was so lush
    >So green
    >The river running in the valley, the grass, the woods…
    >All against a pale blue backdrop and a slowly rising sun
    >It was desperately beautiful
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    >Without even noticing, your hand found its way onto the receiver of the big rifle
    >If she only could see this with you
    >...could she?
    >It didn’t matter now. If she could, you would be happy. If she couldn’t you at least hope she was warm in the morning sun
    >but there was no rest for the wicked
    >One again, your tired legs lift you just a little closer to the skies
    >Your tired arms lift the rifle, no, lift Annie up

    >An unknown amount of time, uncountable steps and lots and lots of beautiful scenery later, there is a break in the woods
    >As if completely isolated from the rest of the world, a building
    >There was no gates, no walls
    >A wide gravel path appeared out of nowhere
    >It was lined on both sides by… war
    >heavy steel beasts on one side
    >And towed guns on the other
    >Anti tank guns, artillery, howitzers
    >everything was shining in the sun
    >Not a speck of rust on any of the metal, anywhere

    >Metal warriors of times long past defending something most didn’t even know existed
    >The house… wasn’t even much of a house
    >More of castle
    >Like that german castle hidden away somewhere in the alps

    >It was Neo-romanesque, almost gothic in its appearance
    >Shining white walls
    >Narrow, tall windows
    >It even had towers
    >Like different parts of the castle were competing against each other on which was the most stunning
    >All hidden away from the world by tall mountains on all sides
    >It really did feel like a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow
    >And while you were gazing over it, in all its magnificence, a door opened and a figure in uniform stepped outside