Dream Soldiers, Page 3

the last of the dream soldiers. And the only one who could win this war.

  The Lune looked me in the eyes.

  A bad sign.

  He raised his gun to my face, the barrel about three feet away. His dark eyes glistened in the midst of his dirty face and disheveled black hair.

  “We will win, now,” he said. “We will win and we will take the Earth, and we will take even your homes and make them our own. This is over.”

  He pulled the trigger.

  The gun jammed.

  He pulled the trigger again, snarling.

  It jammed again.

  I looked down and saw Samuels’ rifle at the top of the stairs, lying where he’d dropped it.

  I dropped to my knees, picked it up with my remaining hand and fired up at the Lune, nailing him in the chest, just below the neck. Before he could disappear, I stood and walked to his fallen body.

  I stepped on his wrist and took the pistol from his grip.

  “You will not take my home,” I said as he dissolved away into consciousness. “But you’re right – this is over.

  I quickly scanned the area and found a room clearly labeled as the server room.

  I kicked in the door and set the charge at the base of the machine.

  I had to use my teeth and my hand to arm the thing, since usually it took two hands.

  And then I ran.

  I fled down the stairs, but found a contingent of Lunes waiting for me in the entrance.

  As one came at me, I transformed the gun in my hand into a machete and lopped off his head.

  I turned and ran to a window, diving through it and rolling on the ground outside.

  I ran for several yards across the dusty terrain without looking back.

  But then, for some reason, I couldn’t help looking over my shoulder, and that’s when I saw him.

  A Lune, targeting me.

  I felt the bullet hit me square in the back, and I put out my hand and my stump as I hit the ground.

  A second bullet hit me in the head just as the Capitol disintegrated in a fiery mushroom cloud.

  And then I woke up.

  THE END

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