The Road Of No Return

Bush rats scampered as the running figure tore through their territory, his legs engaged in a mad race against each other. His eyes, unfamiliar with the territory, directed him into the path ahead. His right hand, burdened by the rifle, dragged behind him, putting a strain on his shoulder.

He remembered the explosion as the the lead vehicle in the convoy blew into flames. They had rushed out, everyone but him, and received a resounding welcome from the terrorists in the woods.

He had dashed out when the shooting cease, running like a deer chased by a tiger. The road forked into two and he had to make a choice. He turned left without thinking.

The first shot met him in his shoulder. He lifted his rifle, trying to put up a last fight. But it was obvious, he had chosen the road of no return