The Objective

• Sophie Steel, Grade 12, Tooleybuc Central School
• Short Story
• 2015

Excellence Award in the 'Beyond Words 2015' competition

“Bang!” another steel cylinder whizzed past his ear, projected from the barrel of an enemy weapon. Within a split-second he retreated to the protection of a brick wall. This shelter provided temporary relief from the onslaught of bullets.

“This is the day!” He reassured himself. Never before had he come so close to his objective. Despite seemingly fatal injuries from previous attempts at this mission, he had returned to the action of combat eagerly.

The objective of this mission was simple - recover an item of significant value that was in the enemy’s possession. To complete his mission, his orders were to eliminate every obstacle in his path. Despite his previous wounds, his determination did not waiver. The enemy had underestimated him this time, they had been foolish to try and stop him.

Within his mental map he could see the two enemy shooters situated 50 metres North-West of his current position. They were seeking cover behind a jeep. Although he couldn’t make visual contact he knew they would make easy targets if he were to ambush from behind.

There was another enemy shooter approximately 70 metres directly North of his position, waiting expectantly for the intruder to make an appearance. The bullet that had previously zipped past came from this shooter’s deadly weaponry.

These three shooters were skilled, and he knew it. He had faced them countless times before and was determined that he would be the victor of this encounter. An effective plan to eliminate these obstacles rapidly developed within his mind. Shortly he prepared to put it into action.

His attack was implemented with swift precision. Firstly, he moved, silently as a ghost, to confront the pair of shooters. From his new position it required only two small bullets to even the field. Then he picked off the lone enemy soldier with one more shot.

Immediately his step lightened as he approached the valuable item that was the objective of his mission. He stared in awe for a few brief seconds and then reached out his hands to claim the item.

“Bang”… His fingers never grasped the cool, shiny, gold surface for which he reached. As he dropped slowly to the ground, the energy drained from his body and an intense pain began piercing through his heart. Behind his crumpled body loomed the figure of the fourth enemy shooter…

And the screen went black.

His mother had positioned herself in front of the television, hands on hips. Her expression was that of disappointment and frustration. She was moving her mouth rapidly, but the boy sitting on the edge of the bed wasn’t registering a word.

A million different strategies raced through his mind that morning as he prepared his schoolbag. By the time he sprinted out the door to catch the bus his mind had wandered even further from the day ahead. The only thought that occupied his mind during the tiresome regiment of classes was this sentence: “Tomorrow will be the day! Tomorrow…”