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Alive takes place smack-dab in the middle of Gears of War, as well as carrying on into Gears of War 2. This is RyRy16's first attempt at fan fiction, and would love feedback, good or bad.

Alive is rated T for minor coarse language and violence.


Chapter One Edit

Pain. When you’re a Gear, that’s all you know. Hell, when you’re a human, that’s all you know. But over time, your mind starts to get used to pain. Your body absorbs physical and mental trauma like paper cuts. When you can’t feel anymore, that’s when you’re dead. You can still be breathing, but when everything is numb and you can barely hear your pounding heartbeat over the bullets and screams of the battlefield, you might as well be a machine. And then a weird thing happens. You start to miss pain. But it never really goes away, does it? It never disappears. It’s just stored deep in the hollows of your mind. And then, at the worst moments, it can make you fall down and break into tears, or you wake up one day and feel like you got hit by a train. That’s what I was feeling…

I woke up in the empty streets of Jacinto. Smoke. All I remember was the smoke. The god awful smog that was invading my lungs. I coughed a few times in a futile effort to rid my body of this nasty air that I was breathing in. I took a look around at my surroundings. Destroyed buildings, cars with bullet holes in the sides, all signs of a warzone. I was up against a car, my jaw and chest in a considerable amount of pain. My attempts to speak were useless. My jaw felt like it was crooked and I was tired enough already. I needed to save energy if I wanted to get out of here before another firefight starts. I have my doubts about that, but in this war, nothing’s for sure.

A sharp pain shot from the right side of my chest all the way down to my toes and back up to my head. That didn’t help my already throbbing head. I looked down at my chest and found the center of all my pain. A gash ran down from my shoulder to the middle of my chest. I was lucky, or at least as lucky as a Gear could be. A couple inches left or even down I would be a very dead man. Although, I don’t know if this is much better. It looked like the blood clotted, but I still needed to cover it up in case it started bleeding again or got infected. Nothing much I could do about internal bleeding. I hoped my body could absorb it.

I tried to move my arms to the side, but I immediately winced as my right arm felt as if the tendon had snapped. I let out a sound that wasn’t of pain, but of frustration. I folded my right arm in, and slowly pushed off the ground with my left arm. I managed to get my feet under me and stood up. Looking around, the streets were empty, but I wasn’t alone. Bodies of COG soldiers littered the streets, in twisted and contorted positions. My mind absorbed it without much thought. I had a surprisingly clear head despite my physical pain. Perhaps too clear, because at that moment, I didn’t know who I was. My tags were ripped off, possibly in battle, and no one was there to tell me who I was. I knew I was in a war. A soldier always knows that. He also knows who his enemies are. I slowly limped my way through the bodies and ashes. In the distance I saw an object that didn’t blend in with the gray and blood red. I made my way over to it and found a towel. That would have to do. I knelt down and did my best to tie it around my chest and arm with only my left hand, although it was difficult. I felt my mind start to wander. I completed the knot, and slowly got up. When I made it to my feet, I almost fell over. I was starting to get woozy. The injuries I had endured had started to take their toll on me. I knelt down and threw up on the curb. Vibrations. They rocked the streets. Every vibration in step with the throbbing of my head. I turned to see something I will never forget.

Locust. A platoon of them, marching down the street. I crawled my way over behind a car. A comrade had guided me even in his death, as a fallen Gear lay next to me, with his Lancer by his head. I picked it up with my left hand and checked the ammo. Two clips. I figured that I had no reason to live anymore. I could kill myself now and end the agony, or take a few of those bastards out with me. Both options seemed pretty grim, but at least the latter would have me go out fighting. I peeked my head over the hood. They were still a good sixty yards away. I counted at least twenty of em’, with two big guys in the back, but my mind was starting to play tricks on me. At the time, I had forgotten the terms for the enemies along with my name. I slowed my breaths down to a hush. They were getting closer now, checking the bodies as they went along. Ugly things, they were. They deserved to die. I couldn’t feel my heartbeat. A machine. Built to kill. No emotions, no thoughts. Just duty. Twenty-five yards now. As soon as they got a little closer, I would charge. This was it. A nameless soldier about to die a meaningless death. But I would not go alone. I was a runner, and the first threatening step was the starting gun. There was silence. And then with one step…

Go.

I got up as fast as I could and fired wildly in front of me. My knees fell heavily and my mind throbbed with every movement, but it would not be for much longer. They turned around and took cover behind some cars. I saw one in my peripheral go down. I didn’t stop. I was dead in their face now. They were still shocked, trying to recollect themselves. I managed to get behind them and took cover behind a car. My chest and arm were throbbing. My head felt like my skull had exploded. Just one more. That was my goal. If I managed to take out one more of those things, I would end it. I peeked up and fired at an enemy to the left who was charging. He bolted for me, but was quickly downed by my fire. That’s two. That’s all I wanted. I looked down at my gun. My only friend. I would die a nameless soldier. I slowly raised my gun towards the side of my head. Pain. Now it will all go away. I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger.

Nothing came out of the gun but a sick clicking sound. I opened my eyes, realizing what had happened. Out of ammo. I felt my throat become dry. The smoke was making its way into my eyes, so I couldn’t see very well. Just a blur. I could only make out the shapes. I revved up my chainsaw, took a deep breath and ran at the Locust. It seemed like slow motion. I was running as fast as I could, but not fast enough. With a sick thud, I went down like a ton of bricks. Everything went black.

I woke up to find myself moving, but not on my own. I was being carried. I was at least eight feet in the air. I was awake, though barely, but I couldn’t move. It was only then I realized where I was…on the shoulder of a Boomer.


Chapter Two Edit

My chest pain was gone. All the pain was now in my head. Not a good trade in my opinion. In and out of consciousness, I started to remember things. A blurry vision entered my head. Some kids were in a field. The grass was green, the sky was blue, unlike the blood-stained ground and gray sky of today. Their faces were blank, but they were very much alive. Running around playing tag, laughing and giggling. I envied them. All of a sudden one kid was pushed to the ground. Tears ran from his eyes as he got up holding his arm. The kids continued as it seemed they didn’t notice or generally didn’t care. The injured child fled to the side, weeping. Another one broke from the pack and walked over. He put his arm around the hurt child, and the kid stopped crying.

 

“Be strong,” said the comforting child, “don’t let em’ keep you down. C’mon, let’s go.”

 

The child got up and grabbed the hurt one’s hand. Slowly, a face started to inhabit the head of the comforting child. Dark hair, blue eyes, kind smile. His words echoed in my head. Be strong. Be strong. Be strong.

 

The Boomer had been dragging me for a while. I dared not move, for if I did, he would simply knock me out again and bring me more pain. My head lifted up a little bit, and could see that this particular Boomer was in the back of the platoon. Only a clear path and some woods to the sides were behind. No sign of Jacinto. I turned my head to the left and saw another Boomer. He too was not alone. A Gear was hanging off his shoulder as well. The Gear locked eyes with me. We couldn’t say anything or move. We both looked away from each other so the Locust couldn’t see we were awake.

 

It was getting dark, but the Locust kept marching. They were in no formation, but completely in step, like a hive mind. The woods continued on with no end in sight. I looked at the gash on my right side. The towel was still wrapped around it. While looking at my injury, I took note of a Boomshot on the Boomer’s side. Another vision entered my head.

 

This one was in a school. The hurt child from my previous vision was again present, although it seemed he was a little older. The child was eating, when another one came from behind him and started to taunt him. The child paid no attention to the mocking kid. That is, until he took the child’s lunch, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it. The child got up and pushed the other one. Some other children took notice and crowded around them. The child helplessly looked around. Was he looking for someone? Who? I didn’t know. As the child was searching, he was blindsided. The mocking child had given a cheap shot, and was now taunting the boy as the crowd laughed. A look came across the downed child’s face, the first time I had seen it. He looked similar to the comforting child from the previous vision. A look of anger invaded the child’s face, as he got up and tackled his enemy to the ground. The other children were awestruck as the mocking child was mercilessly pounded by the former victim of his attacks. Soon, teachers took notice and pulled the children off each other. They dismissed the crowd as the former victim, knuckles bloodied, was sent inside. He was quickly rushed to the headmaster’s office and shoved into a seat. The teacher spoke to the headmaster about what happened. I could see the child’s face. No remorse. The headmaster called to the main office to send the other child down. A few seconds later, a heavily cut chubby kid entered. He was crying and had an icepack on his jaw. He took a seat next to the other child. The headmaster spoke to both about what happened. The chubby one said that the other simply attacked for no reason. The other child’s story contradicted that, stating that exactly the opposite had happened. However, the headmaster looked at the facts, dismissed the chubby one to go back to class, and proceeded to expel the former victim.

 

I awoke from my trance. Then I felt something. It was faint, but present. I listened closely as the unfamiliar sound grew louder. I then realized what it was. It was my heartbeat. The first time I had heard it in months. I was still alive. I was still worth something. I continued to eye the gun. If I had one chance to get out of this situation alive, this was it. I slowly reached for the gun, as silently as I could. The pain on my right side was great, but I continued to stretch. I was not swift enough. The Boomer saw me, and grabbed my wrist. He shouted something to the others. I was thrown to the ground, and another Locust came over. He looked different. He had a headdress on, and commanded the other Locust to approach. He screeched something to them, and walked away. What did he say? Thoughts went racing through my mind. They were quickly silenced when a Locust approached me, and kicked me in the head.

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