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After a few seconds, she spun around and faced me. Wow! She was cute. “How can I help you?” she asked, a strand of her long blonde hair drooping down and across her forehead. She brushed the misplaced lock of hair back with her hand. “I need a tank of gas,” I said, holding out my debit card. She took my card and punched in the numbers, grumbling because the scanner didn’t work. “I hope this works,” she said as we waited for the transaction to go through. “I hope so,” I said, “I’m running on fumes.” The machine hummed and out came the paper receipt. The clerk handed me a pen and I signed the receipt. I signed the receipt, trying desperately to think of something witty to say, but I couldn’t. As I handed the receipt to her, she smiled and politely took it from my hand. “The pump has been giving us fits,” she said, as she stuck the receipt in the drawer of the cash register, “So if it doesn’t pump, let me know.” I lifted the handle to the gas pump and waited for it to come on. . However, not all hope was lost, for there was a continent which took no part in this mindless slaughter of the innocent, a continent who took no side in this war and now welcomed every single person that fled from the bombs and artillery flying over their head.We now turn our heads to Damian Black, or Ian as his friends called him, friends whom he left behind, probably to their deaths. Damian and his mother Evelynn were allowed by the authorities to flee as Damien’s father was a former decorated general in the military. Evelynn decided she had seen enough death around her, after mourning and burying her late departed husband, not wanting for her son to share his father’s fate, she sold everything they had and fled.Damien was trained from an early age in a militaristic environment by his father, and not only him as his base of operations was close to their home, most of the time entire units that were stationed there from time to time during different OPs, spend their time around.
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