Muir crouched down behind the ragged concrete wall; the decimated tower block looming behind him. The single bullet in the chamber tore at his heart as he watched his son laying in the road.

The child’s cries of pain rang out in the silent night of the empty city. His torn and bloodied clothes where the same as when he was taken years ago.

As the sun rose, he picked up his rifle and aimed it at his sons head. A tear ran down his cheek as he pulled the trigger. The shot rang out; its head snapped back and sparks flew from the metal skull.

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