American War A Novel Novels & Stories

In lieu of being able to ask him myself, I needed to be as certain as I could be of what he would want. Holding the book close like a treasure, I fully intended to check it out, but, deciding to wait for Cathy, to see whatever she uncovered, I sat down at one of the tables near the front of the library, and opened the book. I am a man of decision, the book began. In times of war, even a moment of hesitation could lead to a death. With good warriors under my charge, I would never risk it. “Aria?” I lifted my head up from the book and looked straight into Matt’s face.

It’s almost like she just copied the book. About an hour into it, Ben found the notes telling which war happened where. I had Ben read out to me while I wrote down W1, W2, etc. next to each ‘X’. That’s when I saw it. War 1 was located in what is now known as Russia. War 2 was located in now known as Canada. War 3 was located in now known Mexico. War 4 was located in now known Mid-West USA. “Hey look at this.” I called out to Ben who was sitting on the other side of the table from me.

Rubbing her eyes, she decided to try and open the door, she knew it was going to be locked but she had to try. Opening the door, she was surprised it was unlocked. Maybe Dremis was being nice to her. She followed the long hallway to where the fire was, Dremis wasn’t there. She wondered where he went. Walking over to the stone table, a book sat there opened. She walked over to it; she was sure it was probably in another language. Picking it up, it was in English she was surprised. Reading it, her eyes got big. “Native American blood?” she said reading the rest of it.

I screamed. The entire room was a mess. My clothes were torn and littered all over the floor if claws had been used to rip them apart. The books Emily had gifted me to kill time were burned, and their ashes were everywhere. The curtains, flower vases and other items were either smashed into bits or broken. But the worst part was the wall. The wall was covered in blood. Blood that spelt out one word. Traitor.

William excused himself once the party was over, saying that he had something to do. I figured he was probably going to spend time with Emily, who was hiding in that room. Not long after, I heard two gunshots coming from the top of the hill. Feeling numb, I looked up only to see strangers approaching me. I stared at the people before me as they took guns out and aimed at my head. Just when I thought I was going to die, a familiar figure suddenly appeared in front of me. When the armed men saw that it was William, they fired a few shots in succession.

- He forced a gentle, caring smile. - I am really sorry. - I said in a whisper. - Don’t be, ok? I’ll be perfectly fine. I am more concerned about you. How did the news hit you? - Well, you know. I really hate the idea of working with him. With all my heart. But there is no turning back. I have no choice but to make a sort of truce. - Truce? – He looked at me confused. - With Liam? Liam Anderson? - Yeah…

A few rotten apples, Rhychard thought as he leaned into a tight right turn. That part of his learning to be a Warrior of the Way had been easy to comprehend. Even when he had joined Renny at Harvest Fellowship, he had a hard time swallowing the details of what they preached. However, he had always possessed a strong sense of right and wrong. That mindset caused him to leave his moving truck that night when he heard Jamairlo's scream. Someone was in trouble, and Rhychard had to help. Walking away just wouldn't have been…right. Still, if he knew helping would change his life, he may have forced himself to keep driving.

It felt like a witness that had seen too much and chosen silence only because no one had asked it correctly. I stood by the fire in the library with a glass of water I had not touched and watched the reflection of the room in the dark window. No war maps anymore. No pinned photos. No string. No furious handwriting. No names circled like targets. The war room door behind the shelves stood open now, fully open, and that was perhaps the strangest change of all. No hidden pulse. No secret chamber pretending not to exist. Just a room with files, truth, and the exhausted dignity of having done what it was built to do.

Julian opened it with shaking hands, and his world collapsed. Dear Mr. Marchetti, I have found the soldier who was with you and Mr. Carter in Normandy. He has given a sworn statement. Mr. Carter did not save your life out of heroism. He knew he was dying of his wounds. He bribed the soldier to shoot at you, then stepped in front of the bullet. He did this so you would owe him a debt, so you would take care of Lydia for the rest of your life. You were a fool to believe them.

"Should I be worried, sir? About Arabelle being more capable than expected?" "On the contrary." The man looked at Arabelle's photo again—the fierce intelligence in her eyes, the strength in her posture. "I'm impressed. Dante chose well, even if he chose for the wrong reasons. She would have made an excellent addition to our original partnership, back when we were building this empire together." "That's... oddly respectful." "I respect worthy adversaries. I just don't let that respect stop me from destroying them." He gathered the photos of Arabelle into a folder. "She killed the Wolf. Fine. That tells me she's formidable. But being formidable in combat and being prepared for psychological wa