Driving down a gnarled dirt road in search of death incarnate as we see glimpses of his wraith. From my turret I smell his breath and feel it on the back of my neck. And, every now and again he shows his face. A bizarre filled with people clears in seconds. Only a shady few stay. The truck goes silent for an eternity. The Earth just stops moving for a moment.

It's quiet before the storm, and then the bass line...

Like the beating of the primordial battle drums the explosions start. Bullets sting the air like a thousand hornets. Shrapnel tears through flesh like butter. The air is clouded and hazy. All I see is the color red wash over my face. All I here is the whistle of deafness and then comes the strings...

World spinning mind dazed and heart pounding a beat of it's own. The feel of the grip in my hand is calmly numbing as I pull the handle in death's chamber and cry havoc.

In comes the brass...

Flaring tempers and raging fires. Blood fills the streets and now faces of men I've never met fill my dreams. Hate, terror, anger, sadness all at once as I look at death nose to nose and cry out. Rockets fly so close I could touch them and lead pings and whizzes as it flies sporadically through once crowded shops.

The wind section is heard and then the smell..

That sulfur smell, like rotten eggs. I know that smell. Boiled blood and burnt flesh with a hint of gun powder. He had a wife and three kids.

All together, now the symphony roars!

I drive a fist into there hearts as the they keep coming and as we hit the climax all goes silent again.

The yelling stops, the fires go out, and the crowd sits silent as they watch the composer take his bow and wink to the front row. Death is the composer in this orchestra of destruction and in the chaos he is the only one to make sense of it...