The Wait

The young sniper looked through his scope across the grey wasteland, there was no one in sight. Not a soul. The air was cold and dusty, he’d cough now and then but his eyes would be on the scope, as always.

It had been days now, since Colonel Landa had posted him in this outpost alone. It was almost like a death sentence, there hadn’t been any communication since then. He was alone in the snow, peering into the oblivion with his shiny scope.

‘Just another day in paradise, Betty remains mum like she has been all the time. I’ve never heard Betty speak, she was just handed to me by this old guy Vladimir in the armory, he told Betty is a pretty old girl and has sent many men to their graves. But Betty has been merciful ever since she’s been with me.’

The sky was starless that night, the sniper had hidden himself on a ridge keeping an eye on the fence which stood as a border. He kept looking into the darkness in the hopes of making Betty sing. Air was cold and dusty, he used to be a student before. In his bag, was a notebook he had bought along, to write poems while he waited for the enemies to knock on his door, but it was the notebook waiting for his touch.

‘Why am I even here? Should I turn back and go? No. Betty has been so mum, she needs to speak until then I’m not budging.’

He had grown a scraggly beard while he lay in wait for the enemies to crawl out of their holes, it’d itch now and then but his eyes would be on the scope, as always.

‘Betty needs to speak now, it’s been so long. There wasn’t any snow when Landa put me here, it was warm and the trees were green. Yes, green leaves, home was green and warm. But not anymore, that’s not home, this ridge here, this is where I’ll be until I make Betty speak. This is my home.’

He didn’t want to be a soldier, he wanted to write stories under the shade of the maple while chewing on corn. He had bought some cobs of corn with him and also a small packet of salt and pepper with him for seasoning. His bag was stinking now, the corn was rotting in it.

‘Betty is hungry for blood, she needs to speak but where’s the prey. She needs to hunt, but who? Dear Betty, I’ll feed you. I know you’re starving, but I’m not going to miss, you’ll have your wish granted. Vladimir is not going to believe that I fed Betty, but when?’

The winter sun was weak and cold, and the air was cold and dusty. The young sniper looked through the scope, scanning each and every inch for enemies who hadn’t shown up since months. But he’d not abandon his post, he wasn’t a coward. He couldn’t walk away abandoning his post, because that’s what cowards did. He was put here to gun down enemies, that’s what he should do.

‘Betty remains as quiet as ever, when will I make her speak? Have I missed out on something? Vladimir had said, all the soldiers who had Betty before had made speak without a break and here I am, it’s been so long, she’s only been mum, will I ever make her speak?’

His lover back home didn’t’ speak to him the whole day when she got to know he was leaving to the war, she just wept from a distance when she saw him go away with the others. The young sniper couldn’t care much, he had to prove himself and one girl’s tears didn’t matter. He didn’t try speaking to her afterwards as well.

‘Betty is going to rust and die, if I don’t make her speak. But when? Betty needs to speak, she definitely needs to? Who is that person who will make her speak? Betty, my girl I’m going to make you speak no matter what, next man who appears here will be your prey, I don’t care if it’s Landa.’

The Sniper was assigned to Colonel Landa, the man who was infamous for his memory. Landa wanted the sniper to guard something important and he had given him the task to guard this goat pass which nobody knew about and nobody could cross as well. Landa had long forgotten about the sniper he had placed in the middle of nowhere, Landa was resting inside the gravel with a shrapnel adorning his chest.

‘Betty has begun to rust, what will I do? I can’t stop looking away from the scope, Betty could lose her prey if look away. No way, I’m not going to look away for a second. Betty needs to feed, she’s rusting already and she’s dying. I can’t take her back to Vladimir like this. He’d laugh at me for getting back Betty this way. Betty, I won’t stop looking until I get you someone to feed on.’

The young sniper had grown thin, he guarded the wasteland like a faithful watch dog, his arms were stuck to the snow and his knees were frozen as he was on the snow for days, his uniform was full of holes and the dusty cold air had crept inside and his skin was torn at many places. The sniper had been still for months, he hadn’t budged.

‘Betty is going to die if I don’t feed her by tomorrow. But who will I feed Betty, there’s not a soul in sight? Poor Betty, I can’t let her be this way.’

The first day in the wasteland had been hell, with nothing but the dusty cold air for company, the young sniper could only seek comfort with his rifle, he had a lot to prove. And his rifle was his only friend here, the rifle was the ticket to glory and fame. His rifle needed to be taken care of, he set his eyes on the scope and stared into the waste looking out for his trophies.

‘But why? What’s the purpose of all this? No, the only purpose is to feed Betty that’s all my purpose is. I’m going to fulfill that purpose.’

The cold had bored holes on his skin and his heart had given away itself to the dusty cold air, but his eyes could only stare into the oblivion hoping to feed Betty and fulfill his purpose, the young sniper laid breathlessly on the ridge.

‘Betty, I will feed you. Your prey will be here soon.’