Piercing Through the Fog

Short story by Lan Zedrick M Catimbang

Second Place, Literary Contest 2023 Short Story Category

To some, the grey fog incites mysteries and excitement as they expect the warm rays of sunlight to beam through the fog to reveal what is ahead. For some, it never did. The latter was the case for Sam. They look at the fog with such disdain, their eyes staring at the fog as if looking at the jaws of a monster. The cold, arid, grey fog lurched towards Sam, like how a beast’s jaws slowly close down on its prey

Sam clenched their rifles, fixing their aim toward the fog. They stared a thousand miles in front of them. So focused to the point that they can only hear their heartbeat and their heavy breath. At the far end of their sight, there was a slight glint.

“Sam!” a person called out Sam’s name, snapping them out of their trance by yanking them back to the trenches.

“What in the hell are you thinking, Sam?” the person berated at Sam, “What if there were snipers there?”

“I’m… I’m sorry, Ren…”

“That’s Sergeant! Ren for yen private.”

He held Sam’s shaking hands, warming them with his own. He stayed with them until they finally steadied their breathing.

Sam sat down on one of the makeshift benches.

“I’m sorry, Sergeant,” Sam apologized, “I didn’t know what came over me.”

“Ren is fine,” he said comfortingly, “and don’t get all worried up,

I know you are having it rough.” He nodded understandingly.

George, one of the other soldiers came over.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Sam!”

Peter, the other soldier, followed after them

“Cut the slack on the poor lad, they’ve seen a lot of stuff!”

Like I care,” George sneered, “they signed up to be a soldier because they wanted to play ‘hero’.”

Ren glared at George, who stepped back with his arms up, “Fine! I’ll cut the wuss some slack.”

All four of them huddled together in a circle, as Ron gave them a general overview of what they needed to do.

“The men at the top asked all of us to pull back,” Ron smiled, excited to bring the news, “We’re going home, mates!”

Instead of the news being greeted by cheers, all of the men just sighed.

“Easier said than done,” George commented, “we’re surrounded from all bloody sides!”

George raised his voice, “That just means the line’s pulling back and we’d be left for dead!”

“Calm your horses,” Ren raised his hand, “I have a plan ”

They waited until night came, when the fog was as thick as ever. A perfect cover for all of them.

Ren led the three from cover to cover, and some beams of flashlight pierced through the fog, accompanied by people speaking German They weaved and bobbed, often narrowly courting death. Without any way of keeping check of time, they don’t know whether it’s day of night anymore as the thick grey fog practically made them blind farther than a meter.

“Ren…” George called out silently, “I think I see the light.”

In front of them, warm yellow light pierced through the fog. It was the first color other than grey they’d seen in presumably days.

Ren walked towards the light, assuming that it was safe. He too, after all, has grown tired of walking in the fog. He let his guard down.

“I’m-I’m going home, Mathilde, my sweet daughter,” Ren babbled, crazed from being tired of it all.

“Ron!” Sam grabbed him, “we aren’t sure if it’s safe!” They pleaded.

He simply shoved them and rushed forward. It was the headlight of a German truck. The soldiers that accompanied it shot Ren the moment he was seen

The remaining three ran away for dear life, behind them, they hear the Germans slowly fading as the men dashed away.

“Well, that was terrible,” George stated as a matter of fact, “I’m leading this group now.”

What gives you that right?” Peter questioned him

“Because I contributed the most,” George huffed.

Distant German speaking approached the area of the three. They batted away immediately.

Again, they came across another beam of light. This time, they knew what it was. A skylight beamed through the fog and illuminated the area. It bears the flag of the country they’re fighting for.

“We’re nearly there,” Peter said, “We should head South.”

“No.” George barked, “We must go West.”

Sam stared at him, “But that’s where the Germans are.”

“Exactly,” George pulled out a gun and shot Peter, “I finally found the skylight.”

Sam froze, “what are you doing?”

“My mission. This skylight guides the troops through the fog, and the Kaiser doesn’t like that ” He exclaimed

“It’s an artificial hope for people in despair,” he continued.

Peter, apparently still alive, mustered the strength to shoot him back

. George escaped into the fog and didn’t manage to carry out his task Sam ran and grabbed Peter, trying to make him stand up, but to no avail. Both of them collapsed, and Peter just grabbed Sam and said, “Go on.”

Sam obliged, just nodding, and standing up.

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” Peter closed his eyes, “live with hope.”

Sam trudged along, as the fog became thinner, and now, they could see a warm bright ray peering through the grey fog. It was the light from the dusk. Sam looked forward to seeing another road in front of them.