Wet Concrete

Kanada

TNPer
TNP Nation
Kanada
Discord
icebergspaz#1398
The chilling wind tickled Erik's nose, and he constantly stamped his feet and blew into his hands to keep warm. His blonde hair fell down just above just above his eyes, peeking out from his gray service cap. He'd marching along the wired fence for an hour, occasionally looking over his shoulder to see if the guard tower was still occupied. Every time, a binoculars seemed to be staring directly at him rather than towards the communists. It was so close, freedom. Or at least, not this dictatorial regime. After the fall of the Kanadian fascists, who had led a war killing fifteen million Kanadians, many were done with fascism, but many still remained by it.
Of course he'd considered jumping the barbed fence, it wouldn't be that hard. But for the fear that the sniper barrel would turn from the other side of the border to him. The pros and cons? Possible escape, but the cons heavily outweighed. He could possibly be shot, or if he succeeded, his mother and sister would be punished instead.
He checked his watch and saw that it was two past eight. His shift for the afternoon was over. As he began trekking back to the tower, he passed another boy his age, possibly a little younger, maybe seventeen or eighteen. Erik tipped his cap and the boy tipped his back, before Erik made his way into the fire warmed cabin at the bottom of the tower. The room was dead silent, with a single officer sleeping quietly in a chair and an enlist smoking a cig near the fireplace.
Erik shook the officer softly awake, who looked up at the teenager as he spoke, "Sir, I finished my shifts for this week. My pay..?" He said softly. The officer sighed and slowly got up, "Right, private. Good job, we wouldn't want those communists to get into our great nation." Erik felt his lip twitch. Life here was terrible, he doubted it could be worse in Calgary. Not like his father or brother could get a message through from the north.
He painted a fake smile on his face. "Of course, sir." The older man smiled and looked through his bag, handing a small white envelope to Erik before sitting back in his seat. Erik immediately turned on his heel and marched out of the cabin, and began down a stone path towards a warm, glowing city at the bottom. Oskdensk was an old city, built originally from the plenty of the iron in the mountains. He'd been born and raised in those sprawling, unorganized streets below. He smiled and fingered at the envelope in his jacket pocket.
Eventually, he had reached his home, a small second-story apartment in the northern part of the city. The dark wooden door creaked as he entered into the warm room. He heard his mother and sister talking in the living room, and he entered. "Oh, Erik!" his mother exclaimed, excited. She stood up and hugged him. "Hello, mother!" he replied, smiling and embracing his mother back. Once their greeting was finished, Erik's eyes moved to his younger sister, who had only turned thirteen a week before. She remained silent, staring at the hardwood floor. "Dear, you must sit and eat with us." His mother said, more of a command than a question. "Mum, I would love to, but I'm very tired. Could I take a nap first?" His mother smiled and nodded, and Erik handed her the envelope, which she took with pale hands. Erik turned and walked into his room, before collapsing on his bed.
 
After the sun was down, endless rumble of trucks began. It was strange, but Erik didn't want to roll out of bed. He heard them heading north, towards the border. Eventually, a few hours into him trying to fall asleep, he finally got out of his bed and pulled back his curtains. Below was rows of cement trucks and South-Kanadian soldiers surrounding them. Erik grunted and walked downstairs, seeing only his mother drinking tea by the roaring fireplace. His sister was probably in bed by now. He walked over and found a second cup of tea on the table, which he accepted and began to drink at. "Mother, do you know anything about the trucks outside?"
Taking another sip from her tea, she looked up at him. "Yes," her voice rang, "They're building the wall." Erik took a shaky sip from his drink, before responding, "A w-wall?" "Yes, Erik. They're constructing a border wall in some major cities along the border." He slowly put the tea down, and stood, "I think I'll go back to bed, mother." The woman nodded, and Erik stumbled back to his room with bad thoughts flooding his mind.
As he walked up the one-lane dirt street to the tower, he constantly had to move over for the endless line of trucks bringing concrete and supplies. They had worked throughout the night, and Erik saw as he moved over the ridge. A wall more than ten feet tall towered over the workers as they pushed hollow pipes throughout the drying concrete to remove bubbles.
Constant yelling went over the construction. He frowned and walked past the commotion into the cabin. It was more crowded than usual, maybe about a dozen people talking. Erik ignored them and walked to his officer, saluting him. "Sir, I'm not able to patrol today. There's, uhm, a wall in the way." The officer smiled, "Yes, private. I've seen the wall. You and Gregor will be in the tower for today." Erik nodded and walked into the back room, where he found the boy from earlier. He was standing next to an iron ladder, and began climbing as soon as he saw Erik, calling to him as he rose, "Come on, then. Time's wasting."
Erik climbed the rusty ladder into the wooden watch out tower. There were two chairs and a small radio on a table, but other than that it was empty. "Rather bland, isn't it?" Gregor asked. "I wouldn't know." Erik replied, "This is my first time up here, I always have the late shift." The younger boy nodded.
The two sat down in the creaky chairs and glanced over the edge, nearly forty feet down at the bustling people. Erik looked away for just a moment and heard gunshots, immediately grabbing his rifle and looking back up. It seemed a Kanadian worker had tried to jump the wall over the border, and was shot. He took the pair of binoculars from Gregor and peered down, seeing a corpse dye the snow blood-red on the communist side of the border, where two Calgarian soldiers began marching up the snowy hill to see what the firing was.
As the communists dragged the body away from the border, it came to Erik. That wall was designed to keep the Sundeonians in rather than the Calgarians out.
 
"You are discharged, private." Erik widened his eyes, "W-what? Why, sir?" He asked his commanding officer. "You are turning twenty in a few weeks, you'll be enlisted for the actual military, not just border guarding. So take a load off before you're taken into the force," Erik's officer responded, and Erik continued to stutter, "But, Sir, I make money for my family in this job-" "Being in the army will increase your pay, somewhat."
Erik, deciding not to argue, nodded and grumbled. He turned on his heel and marched back outside. Erik rounded the cabin and sat down behind it, murmuring and thinking. He felt not snow under him, though. He looked down and saw a snow-covered piece of metal with a handle welded onto the top. Curiosity suddenly burning, he glanced around and opened the surprisingly quiet door, looking down at the ladder leading into the unlit room. Quickly, the boy climbed down and waited for his eyes to adjust. It looked like a public bomb shelter built during or before the Fascist War, with a concrete floor and corrugated metal lining the walls and roof.
In the back, some of the metal was peeled away and dirt was showing. Erik went towards it and stroked the dirt, which fell away from the wall easily. His mind started to churn, but he stepped away from the wall and scaled the ladder again, closing the door behind him and marching away from the base of the observation tower overlooking the wall.

"Mum, I swear! Just less than ten meters from the barbed wire fence across the wall!" "That doesn’t mean you should try the stupid idea. I hardly make enough money to support myself, if you get shot, me and your sister will be all alone." Erik looked at his polished black shoes, as his mother spoke, "Your job as a border patrol is keeping us afloat, at the moment." "I lost my job." His mother gasped, "What?" "I was discharged, because I'll be enlisted in the army in a few weeks."
"You're going to join the army?" "It's not like I have much of a choice! Mum, the bunker I found could be our way back to father and Walt!" Erik's mother shook her head, "I will not have you be shot for your foolish ambitions. Go to your room, dinner will be ready within the hour."
 
The repetitive sound of shovel digging dirt echoed throughout the dark bomb shelter. The tunnel was not even four feet deep and Erik was beginning to breath heavily at the task of getting shovelfuls of dirt from his dirty tunnel out into the main room. He had told his mother he was going for a stroll more than an hour ago. He dropped the shovel in the dirt and ran back to the ladder, realizing how long he'd been underground. He quickly emerged from the shelter and closed the door, wiping dirty snow over the metal. He quickly ran away from the cabin and slid down a hillside, out of view from the tower. Once hidden, he rolled around in the fresh snow to hide some of the dirt which covered him from collar to shoe.
He quickly slid further down the hillside, through some dense bushes, and emerged on a small street in Oskdensk. He quickly retraced his steps from earlier in the afternoon, and found himself back at home just before sunset. He entered and prepared for an angry talk with his mother.
He had convinced his mother that he'd found an interesting path through the woods just north of the city, and he wished to return the next day to finish the path. She allowed it, and by dawn he'd arrived at the snow covered door. He lifted the door and slipped under, walking over to the dirt and immediately continued digging. It had been a few days since his mother forbid him from visiting the shelter, but he'd gone back anyway, and began digging.
Again, hours passed and Erik grew more and more weary of the repetitive work. But by the time he was readying to return home, he noticed the signifigant difference in the tunnel depth. It looked more than twice as deep than when he left yesterday, but he noticed that areas along the soggy roof were sagging. Some places looked like they would collapse over his head.
He ignored it and climbed out of the shelter, sliding down the hill and rolling in the snow.
 
(Two Week Later)
Every day for two weeks he'd dissapeared underground for hours. The repetitive slugging of dirt thrown to the side over and over dug into his brain, and it was all he could hear. Through the last weeks, the roof of the tunnel had nearly collapsed several times, and he'd stuck up wooden boards for support, taken from his bedframe. He had to constantly crouch over, which had caused a crick to form in his back. He noticed when he'd reached the wall, though. It must have reached far down as where he was, because he'd hit concrete just at the roof of where he was digging. This only brought on more energy and excitement.

His birthday was in only two days, and he'd be twenty years old. The day after his birthday, he'd have to enter military service with the actual army. For all he knew, he'd be brainwashed just as his father was with the Kanadian regime, which took years afterwardsto heal. So he didn't speak with anyone about the tunnel. He would not allow his escape to be ruined. Perhaps, the day before he left, he would offer to take his mother.

The deeper the tunnel got, the slower the work became. He had to take breaks to move the piles of dirt out of the tunnel all the way back to the bomb shelter. But it made steady progress.
(One day later)
The deadline was close. He was fearful, but he stayed up late to continue the backbreaking work. Perhaps he'd finally see his father and little brother again. He was warmed by this thought, and didn't even realize when he'd stopped digging dirt and started digging snow.

When he did see, he dropped the shovel and began slowly digging with his hands. Through about a foot of dirt, he'd cleared a hole wide enough for his arm to fit. He began widening it, overcome with excitment. Within minutes, he'd made a hole he could squeeze through.

Erik did not think twice about freedom. His mother and sister were out of mind as he dreamily stretched out onto the hillside. He looked back up at the wall, where a boy was sitting with a rifle in his lap.

Erik foolishly leaped up and sprinted through the snow towards the border, clearly marked by a fence. Then he heard the yells as he alerted the guard. Ignoring it, he dove to get under the fence, but he did not fit.

As fast as he could, he burrowed a small path through, and fit up to his waist. He was almost there! Then, a bang. An explosion of pain in his gut. Erik ignored the warmness coming from his midsection, and got all the way through the fence.

He took four steps before collapsing in the snow. As he felt his blood-covered stomach, his vision blurred. Another bang came out, and he was instantly killed as his vision turned black.
Erik Johansen was shot dead on an attempt to escape Malorian-Controlled Kanada. Later in the day, Northern Kanadian guards retrived the body. They refused to trade it over, and had it buried in front of Erik's father and brother.

Erik's mother and sister's fate after their dissapearance was unknown to the public.

(OOC: In hope to start a different rp later on, I quickened the end to this one. I hope whoever read it enjoyed, i guess. *shruggerino*)
 
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