Randy-55

Clouds of red earth occasionally waft across the white asphalt highway, settling on the now unused road, linking the empty city of Mildura to the forsaken ruins of Broken Hill. Rest stops along the highway, abandoned. The rare vehicle, deserted.    A dishevelled, stumbling body grunts at a wavy silhouette materialising from the road leading south. It snarls and drags its broken leg. Its arms forward, reaching for the drifter, hungry for flesh.      The figure reaches across his belt and unsheathes a long, forward-curved blade. He strikes the corpse’s skull and embeds the machete deep. The now inert corpse drops into a heap with a low

The barrel of Anna’s rifle rests on the window sill, her finger lightly touching the trigger. An occasional gust of snow ruffles her brown hair under her helmet. It’s past ear length, against conscript regulations. But on the frontline, the NCOs don’t care. Her tired eye lids become heavier with fatigue. Frozen, hollowed out buildings littered the landscape; home to rats, wild dogs, and worst of all, Snipers; hidden, in crevices and balconies. Every window, every dark shatter was a potential 'birds nest' for an enemy sniper. It was sneaky, and unsportsmanlike, she thought. Anna remembered what her Sargent said; “All wa