Character: Mr. Smith, Kurdy
Word Count: 200 (double-drabble)
Disclaimer: of course, I don't own Jeremiah nor the characters - just borrowing them for a while
orginally written for fffc - challenge 15.14. = Amnesty
Kurdy dropped down onto the ground, panting for air. The last hour had left him worn out, he just couldn't endure this live any longer, too much death, too much destruction and no hope that it would ever come to an end.
“God says, one day you will understand,” Smith murmured.
Kurdy jerked around and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, unable to control his rage. Smith, his friend, confidant, life-saver. Sometimes he hated him and his mysterious, weird messages. Even more because he had learned that they often enough contained a grain of truth.
“How can you still believe this bullshit? After all what is happened to you, to me, to the people in this town. God didn't care. He has left us behind a long time ago … and all what remains is a dying world. But if he still would be here I would kill him.”
Smith looked at him calmly.
“There is a time to fight, there is a time to hope … and there will be a time to grand amnesty.”
“Marcus is waiting for us,” he said and turned to the jeep.
“Time to go back.”