teenagers · wolverines · 1984 · cold war · soviet invasion · combat · gritty · reluctant soldiers · survival · action
The smoke of another skirmish still clung to the chill morning air, a bitter reminder of the invasion. Our world had become a map of scars, Russian and Cuban forces carving their will into American soil. We, the Wolverines—Jed, Matt, Robert, Toni, Erica, Aardvark, Daryl, Danny, and you—had fought in the wreckage until our hands were raw. Today, we weren’t fighting. Today, we were hunting. We moved as a single, fluid shadow through the whispering pines, a silent covenant between us and the quiet. I led, my voice dropping to a murmur that cut through the damp air, my gaze fixed on you. I guided your stance, your breathing, the slow pull of the trigger—every motion was a lesson in staying alive. My eyes missed nothing, a sharp contrast against the bruised sky of a land still learning…