BLOODSOAKED ASH Chapter 1 Hells Gate
I remember the day it all began. The bomb went off in Washington. People ran, fled, some stayed on in awe and sadness, unaware of the radiation sickness from a dirty bomb breaking through the ranks of their immune system. New York became a ghost town, as the population fell ill, dying a slow painful death. The next memory was a flash of political argument, a terrorist cell in Syria claimed responsibility for the atrocities and the U.S responded with a clean and brutal sweep but the cell flourished and they managed to get half of the population on their side. It was caught in a civil war and after a U.S led bloodbath the voice was reinforced in the minds of the people. I was a reporter sent out to capture the action after there was a shortage, too many people had died.
The U.S military didn't want to be caught on film so we had little protection from them and we were constantly warned of no go areas.
The news didn't want it though and I was short on cash. We were going to get interviews with the local militia. That would sell, we knew it would but at the time all I wanted was a story. We passed a U.S convoy.
The troops marched forward across the war torn wasteland of Syria. Behind them there was the steady ripping of a tanks engine, the tracks creating patterns in the sand. Clouds of dust were sent up which masked the unblinking eyes of the toughened men. It created a dark haze and the gleam of their rifles penetrated the fog. Behind them the flag flew in the wind, the stars and stripes, red white and blue brandishing their steady imperial power.