Singing the Last Song

By Jane B. Night

Love, War, Hope, and Loss

At the height of World War III Birdy joins Rev 21. Neil and Eric agree she can sing with them as long as they can sleep with her. It is supposed to be uncomplicated. Then, hearts get involved.
Can Neil and Eric's friendship prove stronger than their desire to have Birdy for or will the love triangle destroy the band?

Sharon is part of the Nations of Allied Scientists for peace, a secret group aimed at stopping the war and saving planet Earth no matter the cost. Only one thousand people will survive the explosion that is necessary to save mankind and Sharon must decide who the survivors will be. Will she allow her son to die or will she spare his life and leave him to grow up alone in the aftermath of the most catastrophic bomb to ever explode on Earth?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BZ Publishing LLC
• Release date: May 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310880902

Book preview

Prologue

Michael

I remember the day the world fell apart. I was sitting on one side of the couch playing a video game. My kid sister, Birdie, was on the other side. She was playing with her dolls.

I was so engrossed in the game that I didn’t hear the door open. I looked up for the first time at the sound of my mother’s voice.

What is it? she asked. It was the panic in her voice that caught my attention.

Turn off the game, my father said.

But I’m not at a save point, I protested.

Do it. Now, my father’s voice left no room for discussion. With annoyance I hit the power button. I had leveled up since my last save point and would have to do it all over again.

My father turned on the news. And that was when I saw it. The Statue of Liberty was engulfed in flames.

Oh my god, my mother whispered.

The J Edgar Hoover building, the White House, ten power plants across the country, and the Mall of America. All gone. Terrorism, my father said.

There is evidence that these attacks were ordered by… the reporter on the television said. I couldn’t make out the name because at that moment my sister started to scream. She had just been drawn from her imaginary world into reality.

It is an act of war, my mother said. Her face had gone white.

We aren’t the only ones. Other allies of Israel’s were attacked today, my father said. They’ve just started World War III.

It might not be as bad as all of that. There have been rumors of wars before. Terrorist attacks before.

This was ordered by the leader of a country. Not an extremist group. I don’t think there is a way we can avoid fighting back, my father said.

He had been right.

After that day all hell broke loose. And America changed. Military service became mandatory. Every man who was physically and mentally able had to serve for eight years. With the mandatory service, the social rules changed. Guys my age drank, smoked, and fucked. Because that’s what men do when they know they are going to be blown to hell on the battlefield.

I fell in love hard. With a girl named Sharon. And she gave me a son named Matthew. He is the only thing that I have to show for my life besides orphaning and widowing strangers.

The men I serve with have girls back home. Many have children. And many find comfort in the women the military began providing a few years ago to the soldiers. Our men were becoming friendly with foreign women. And bringing diseases back to the base. Female soldiers were getting raped. So were civilian women in the towns we visited.

So the military decided to send women to us. To lose ourselves inside. If we got them pregnant, even better. Most of us were not getting out of our eight years alive. By the time I was a soldier there had already been a steady decline in the birth rates. The government was in a panic about where their future soldiers would come from. They knew as well as we soldiers did that the war wasn’t going to stop. We were going to keep blowing each other to bits for generations. We might even wipe out the human race.

Along with the women sent to comfort us the government set up the CODS program. Children of Deceased Soldiers. Before we went overseas we had to hand over to the government a few vials of sperm. For safekeeping. So that our parents could get grandchildren without us. And so the government could be assured of the next generation of soldiers and breeders.

As the government brings us prostitutes, the women of the good old US-of-A have become so promiscuous that I am glad I have a son rather than a daughter. I hate the idea of any daughter of mine sleeping with a town full of soldiers. Just hoping she can find true love in her teens because at eighteen all the men she knows will be gone. And most will never come back. And those that do will be broken. Scarred. Like I am.

I have scars for every man, woman, and child I have been ordered to kill. For every church I have burned. For every pet dog I have shot as it attempted to protect it‘s master.

I feel bad for Sharon. Sharon’s love story is over. She and I won’t get our happily ever after. I know I am going to die over here. And I should die for what I have done. And I want to die. I don’t want to see what fresh hell the world becomes. I am so tired of it all. So tired of the smell of death. Of the sound of explosions. Of the blood spatter.

No hell could be worse than this war.

I feel sorry for Birdie. My baby sister. She is already an orphan. My parents died protesting the awful changes the war brought with it.

When I am gone Matthew will be the only family she has left. And Sharon.

Maybe she will find a man to love before he goes to war and dies. Maybe she will lock her heart away while giving her body to the boys about to be soldiers. Maybe she will even come out here and perform sexual services for the troops in the name of Uncle Sam.

I know Birdie. And I know she will not come out of this world unscathed. None of us will.

The Obituary of Michael Louis:

Michael Louis of Lancaster, Ohio was killed Thursday in the line of duty. He leaves behind his wife Sharon Louis, their son Matthew Louis, and his sister Bonnie (Birdie) Louis.

He was preceded in death by his parents Roger and Vanessa Louis, who were killed less than a year ago in the Freedom Riots.

April

Birdie

I was so glad my math midterm was over. I was sure that I hadn’t passed. It was the last of my midterms and I was fairly sure that I had wasted the semester. My heart just wasn’t in it.

My next class was in the Oakley building. I had some time before class started so I stopped to look at the bulletin board outside of the anatomy lab. I had posted a flyer there the week before and wanted to see if it was still visible. Sometimes, the flyers for apartments for rent, used books for sale, and pets to give away overran the board so that not a speck of its yellow color could be seen.

My flyer was beside a poster of a woman cuddling a chubby baby against her cheek. Mom and baby were dressed in pink. It read, Bring Joy to the Families of Fallen Soldiers. Call for Information about the Children of Deceased Soldiers Program.

My flyer advertised the books I had left from last semester. No one had called about them.

I was about to turn away when a black flyer with white lettering caught my attention. It was next to a poster that showed a woman with her arm linked with a man in uniform. The man and woman were laughing. The poster read, Women Needed to Comfort and Entertain Our Soldiers.

The white lettering was bold against the black background. It read: Female Vocalist Needed for Band Rev 21.

In smaller print below it read, Must be willing to go on tour with band this summer. Must be willing to provide comfort to the band’s lead vocalist and guitarist. Ugly women need not apply.

I felt the heat rise in my face. I looked around me to be sure no one was there and I ripped the flyer down from the board.

I glanced at my cell phone to see the time. They would be at the Davidson Hall cafeteria. I had met Rev 21 there from time to time to go over lyrics. Lyrics that I had written for them.

I was failing anatomy anyways so it wouldn’t matter if I cut class.

I hurried out of the building trying not to appear rushed. I didn’t want to be stopped by any of the uniformed soldiers that patrolled the campus. The guard at the door nodded at me and I nodded back. I hoped he thought I was just late for class. At Davidson I showed my student ID to the guard at the door. He looked like he was fresh out of training and not yet nineteen. He scanned it then allowed me to pass. I got on the rickety old elevator that was slower than a snail on pot and finally got off on the second floor.

Holding my head up I marched into the cafeteria. Eric, Neil, and Gary were seated together at one of the round tables. I took the flyer from my pocket and slammed it onto the table. None of the other students around us seemed to notice and there were no soldiers in the room whose attention I might unwittingly attract.

Eric sheepishly looked at Neil. It didn’t take a genius to know whose idea the flyer had been.

We are men with men’s needs. Do you know what the rate of sexually transmitted infections in this country is? Honestly Birdie, I never took you for a prude, Neil said as he straightened the collar of his blue polo shirt.

How dare you not ask me first, I said.

We didn’t think you would want to, Eric said. I could see a blush spreading over his cheeks. His skin was so pale that the color contrasted sharply.

I write your lyrics for you. How dare you not at least ask if I want to go on the road with you? I can sing. How can you even think of recruiting some girl you don’t know who happens to have nice tits.

Tits aside, we need more than someone who can sing, Neil said, gesturing towards the flyer. I glared at him.

I can do that too, obviously.

Being a girl, we assumed you were capable. I just didn’t think you would want to, Neil said. At least he was looking at me. Eric was eyeing the floor.

I’d go fuck the entire army to get the hell outta this place. I had thought more than once about joining the program the poster next to their flyer had advertised. The one for girls willing to comfort and entertain soldiers. I hadn’t decided I would do it but I hadn’t ruled it out. I was failing my classes. I would have to drop out of school after the semester ended because I would lose my scholarship. I would have no choice but to move home. Unless I ran away with the military.

We’ll need to set up an audition with Johnny but if he approves I don’t see why we couldn’t bring you, Neil said.

Are you sure? Eric said. I was not sure if he or I was more terrified of the idea.

I’m sure.

I’ll set it up then. Would you care to sit down and eat with us? Neil gestured to the two empty seats on either side of Gary.

I have things to do. I turned around pretending I still had some dignity and headed for my dorm room. Luckily for me Penny, my roommate, was out, as usual.

I had two hours until my next class, which would give me time to work on the homework I had already been given. I had a paper to write for introduction to business, a chapter to read for intro to theatre, and a take home test for psychology. I was in the middle of my fourth semester but I still hadn’t declared a major.

The dorm room was smaller than I had imaged it to be when I decided I no longer wanted to live at home with my sister-in-law.

The dorm room had a