Short Story
Published on Nov 18, 2015
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PRESENTATION OUTLINE
It was a sunny and nice day in the little town outside of Moscow. A little boy sat on a swing in a park. He was staring off into the sky, mindlessly swaying back and forth. It was a lazy, warm afternoon and a little breeze came by and the rustled the trees. It was ideal. All of the sudden a voice called out, “Artyom!” and the boy was alert and looking around. He heard the voice again. “Artyom!”, and the boy turned around. There was a middle age woman waving at him and beckoning him to come towards her. The boy was up and running to the woman. He took a few strides and then stopped dead and looked up. The woman looked confused and called out again. “Artyom!”
Photo by Bernhard Benke
The boy pointed to the sky. The woman turned around, befuddled, and then saw it. Planes flying low a few miles away. Everyone stopped and was staring. Then one of the planes dropped a small object, far off into the distance. The woman began screaming and started sprinting past the people who were standing there, gawking at the sight. She grabbed the boy and sprinted towards a bathroom when she heard a huge explosion. BANG, and everything shook. She was still running, stumbling, and crawling, trying to get to the concrete structure with the boy.
Photo by minnepixel
All of the sudden more screams erupted and people started running off in all different directions. It was total chaos. The woman got into the bathroom and locked the door. She heard banging and screaming, but all she would do is sit in the corner, holding the boy, and cry. Sirens erupted and the screams continued. The banging increased and the woman winced with every hit.
Photo by mira_foto
A low rumble developed and started to get louder and louder. It sounded like a tornado had all of sudden formed. You could hear debris flying by and crashing into things. You could hear glass breaking and people calling out to one another. It got more and more intense. Wreckage started hitting the shelter more and more, faster and faster. Then all of the sudden it stopped. The screams, the wind, the debris, everything. All you could hear was a car alarm in the distance. No screaming, no yelling, and no banging.
Photo by kevin dooley
Artyom woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat. The cell he was in was hot and muggy, like a sauna. He sat up on the edge of his cot. He looked on the ground and then looked up to the sky. He saw the moonlight cut up into little pieces by the bars that held him captive. He got up and walked up to the window. He couldn’t quite get eye level with the opening, but he could hear singing and yelling outside the window. He took a deep breath and nodded. He knew tonight was the night.
Photo by decade_null
Artyom had been patiently planning his escape for months. He was caught by the Schimitan, an Arab rebel group that patrolled the southern parts for the Mediterranean. Ever since the Schimitan caught him on his way to the ocean, he couldn’t help but resent them. He was so close to the water, he could even hear the occasional waves crashing even if it was quiet enough. All Artyom was trying to do was to obtain a better life, to make it to the New World. He had hoped that it had not been hit as bad as where he had been and was now. Russia was absolutely wrecked and most of Europe was just a sheet of glass. The only way was through the watery gates of the Atlantic.
Photo by e_monk
He walked over to the little sink that was in his cell. Of course it didn’t work, none of them worked. Water was precious and they would never give any extra to prisoners, but Artyom didn’t want water. He removed the bowl and took away the piping from the wall. It all came away in a big section and revealed a small hole that led straight down.
Photo by Chris.Gray
Artyom jumped down into the hole which led to a very dark and big cavern. He fumbled around a little bit and found a match and lit it. He then bent over and light a small lantern he had stolen months before. The smell of murky water and sulfur from the match hung in the air. He looked around at all of the things down in the cavern.
Photo by Great Beyond
His captives were obviously very lazy and didn’t bother with much. They had found weapons and food in the prison and had taken it over. They then went out to fill up the prison with slaves. The Schimitan tried to make Artyom a slave, but when one of the members pushed him a little too quickly, he turned around and decked him. The man almost died and so did Artyom. They beat him for it and that was most present in his mind when he bent over and picked up a rifle that was lying on the ground.
Photo by Mad House Photography
He then went around and started lighting other lanterns in the cavern, one at a time, until the whole room was illuminated. He walked around picking up supplies. They had never bothered look under the prison where a lot of stuff was stored. Weapons, food, water, and some flashlights, which were quite dear in those hard times.
Artyom grabbed a bag and had it full with ammo, water, food, and batteries. Artyom then loaded up himself. He got a knife and put it in his waist. He then grabbed the rifle and the bag and headed towards the other end of the cave, extinguishing one light at a time as he went. He got to the other end and the last light and hesitated. His hand still in the air, ready to begin. Artyom reflected a moment, nodded, and then put out the last light.
Photo by Roanish
He came up to a wooden door in pure darkness. Moonlight peered through a few of the cracks and light up Artyom’s face. He looked outside for a few moments and then hesitantly opened the door, careful not to make any noise.
Photo by Davi Ozolin
Artyom looked around and spotted what he wanted. A decently sized ship out in the harbor. He started making his way along the beach, heading towards the ship. He had passed a few buildings with sleeping men when he came to one that still had lights on and people talking in a dialect he didn’t understand.
Photo by SwaloPhoto
He waited a bit, then decided to go. Just as he got to the edge of the doorway, a man moved back the curtain that was blocking the door way and stepped out onto the beach. Artyom swayed a little bit and almost fell over into the unsuspecting guard.
Photo by Paul-W
Artyom caught his balance and held his breath, staring the man ready to make a move. The man said something Artyom didn’t understand, and then turned around and went back inside. Artyom then hurried up and moved on past.
Photo by giev
Artyom then got to the docks and walked onto the ship. He started letting down sails getting ready to set sail. He would hear the occasional shouts near the docks where we would stop moving, crouch, wait a few moments, and go back to his business.
Photo by Hendel
He had the ship all ready, and went to remove the tie that held him at the docks when a huge spotlight flashed on from the tower above, onto the ship Artyom was on. Men started shouting and a siren came on. Artyom had a little flashback as he remembered the same sirens as he was curled up with his crying mother. The screams and the pounding, the wind and the debris came just as intense as it did when he was a child.
Photo by PatrickMcNally
He then snapped back into reality when a bullet landed right in front of him. He was down and his gun was out in a moment. He started firing back, aiming at vague silhouettes by the light. The bullets started landing more commonly now and he had to retreat to the back of the ship. At that point he didn’t have a shot on the light and only a few people. The bullets started coming much more rapidly. They landed quickly and closely. Getting closer and closer when Artyom saw it. The last rope that held him into place. He checked his rifle and saw he had two bullets left.
Photo by Antique Military Rifles
He aimed at the rope, steadied his breathing, and got ready to fire. As he was squeezing the trigger, a bullet landed right next to his face causing him to miss. He was quite shaken, but he needed to get out of there.
Photo by kreg.steppe
He then took aim again. The bullets still whizzing by. He steadied, held his breath, and let it out. For a brief moment, all things slowed down. He saw the bullet leave the rifle and slowly travel through the air to the rope. The effects were instant, but it felt like an eternity to Artyom, whose whole life depended on it.
Photo by theglowingstars
The bullet hit and the rope split. He then dropped the main sail and the boat took off as he dove into cover, bullets still raining down around him. The boat got farther and farther away, but no chase was given. There were still shouts and muzzle flashes, but no hits.
Photo by Insulinde
Artyom felt the same way he did after The Attack on Moscow. He felt very fortunate to have made it out alive. Standing up and looking out over the pale water had the same effect as when he opened the door to the bathroom with his mom, but this time he was alone.
Photo by jenny downing
Artyom felt the same way he did after The Attack on Moscow. He felt very fortunate to have made it out alive. Standing up and looking out over the pale water had the same effect as when he opened the door to the bathroom with his mom, but this time he was alone.
Photo by steve caddy
