Like a cat with mucus in its throat, the tank’s engine rumbled. Its treads clattered on the pavement, so much metal tumbling along. Like a hundred cans filled with rocks being dragged. Now and then came the the whir of a smaller engine, the main cannon turning.
“Not here, dad. We can’t stay here. They’ll see us.” His father groaned. Blood trailed on the cold ground. “Let’s get you inside.” On his left stood an apartment. It’d be empty of course. Maybe they could hide in there. If he was lucky he might find some first aid supplies.
A few more dragging pulls and he got his father to the doorway. He moved his father inside. The tank drew near. Windows rattled, dust fell, snow dropped from awnings. With his father a short way into the building’s entrance hall he stepped outside and tossed some snow over the trail of blood.
Back inside, he locked the door and went to the first bathroom. He scanned cabinets and drawers looking for…He froze. The whine of the smaller tank engine cut through the air. A sudden, low thud. The cannon’s position being locked in place.
He ran from the bathroom, ignoring everything. All he wanted was to be next to his father. Time seemed to slow, dissolve. It was as though he were in a dream. Trying to make himself do anything took such an effort. His strength drained. Like dragging himself though cement that grew harder with every moment. He fell to his knees. His father lay a few feet away and he reached for him.
His hand fell onto his father’s chest, he grabbed hold.
A thunderous boom shook the world.
Then everything turned white.