The dust and ash settled. As the soldier blinked, he saw a figure in gray standing nearby. He was about to go for his rifle, but the figure raised a hand, calmly. “Don’t worry, Stephen. Your fight’s done.”
Stephen blinked again. “Who are you?”
The light around him was all wrong; he wasn’t sure if it was sunlight yet or something else. How long had he been out? Had he been out? He looked closer, and now he saw the person standing near him was a woman, a pale yellow halo hovering just over her head.
“I’m Winifred,” she said. “I’m afraid it’s your time.”
“My time for…” Stephen shook his head. “Look, lady, I don’t know you, and I don’t know how you know me, but I gotta get back to my unit. We-”
“Your unit is no longer there,” Winifred said steadily.
Stephen began to shake. “It can’t… all of ‘em? No, no, no you don’t understand, we were, we had to stop- I gotta call in-”
“I’m sorry,” Winifred said. “Your headquarters is no longer there either.”
“But…”
For the first time, he looked beyond her. In the distance, where his city had been, there was a wall of flame.
“I’m sorry,” Winifred said again. “I really didn’t know how to start. It’s not just your time, you see. It’s everyone’s time.”
She turned, and led Stephen away into the rising clouds.
This was written for
‘s Flash Fiction Friday post:
Nice.