by T. C. Edge
“It’s as if they’re filling that space in order to protect the coast,” suggests Jackson. “To offer a barrier of bodies to the cliffs and the entrance to the research facility.”
“There will be gaps in their lines,” says Drake. “There’s no way they can cover a space of so many miles. The cliff entrance will be heavily protected, and any attempt to get there aerially will be impossible. In a plane, our powers count for nothing. We must advance on foot and enter via the mainland side.”
As the only person who knows the layout to the research facility, Drake takes some time to bring us up to speed on the design. By the sounds of it, it’s all built into the cliffside and cut back into the rock, where there’s a secret entrance for incoming aircraft. However, on the land above, a small base has been built to offer an alternative entrance.
“It was built in the form of a small power station,” says Drake, “in order to conceal what was going on below. That is going to be our only way in.”
Exactly what’s going on around this power station, however, is impossible to know. Most likely, the Baron will have plenty of security there, with the huge camps covering the last swathe of land beyond it, all peppered with towns and settlements that have been modified to act as temporary bases for the Baron’s reserve forces. Exactly what we’ll find when we get there we can’t determine. Our spies cannot get close enough, and Jackson’s inside man is largely contained to a certain camp towards the South on the outskirts of Piscator.
An argument is put forth from General Trent to wait a little longer, to gather more intel and form a more concrete plan. As a fairly risk averse man, it’s not surprising to hear him offer that suggestion. But while we can all understand his viewpoint, he’s unanimously shot down.
“We have to go, and we have to go now,” concludes Drake. “We will leave tomorrow evening, when the night falls, to give us a head start. There is no going back now.”
The remainder of the day is given over to putting the finishing touches to our plan. All over the base, soldiers and Guardians, all gathered here from the farthest reaches of the regions and Deadlands, count down the hours and minutes as the drums of war begin to beat inexorably in their heads.
For those with loved ones, the final night is provided to say goodbye. Many will have already seen family members and dear friends either killed or captured by the Baron and his men. Others will have loved ones here with them, ready to give it their all as part of the assault. Perhaps they’ll be fighting side by side in the same battalions, charged with attacking the same portion of the enemy lines. Or maybe they’ll be separated, their experience or expertise giving them a different role elsewhere.
Whatever the case, now may be the final time they get to say goodbye.
For me, the evening is spent with Velia. Alone in my room, we sit up against the wall on the bed, sometimes speaking in low tones and sometimes letting the silence speak for us. Occasionally, our hands lock together and I let the soft touch of her skin give me strength. But we don’t kiss, and we don’t hug, knowing that such things will only weaken us, only serve to distract us from what we have to do.
And sitting next to her, the hours pass, and I find myself drifting off to sleep, happy in her company despite it all. And with her next to me, my mind remains calm and at ease, no visions coming to me. Across the lands, the world takes a long, final breath, preparing for the plunge. Right now, a growing silence pervades all, a time for reflection before the lands explode once more with the roar of battle.
And this one will be unlike anything seen for a hundred years. A final encounter that will determine the fates of millions.
The long night is fast approaching.
The battle for the future is on.
23
The Deep Breath
The convoy we’ve gathered puts the one that travelled across the Deadlands to shame. Then, we were coming with our forces from the West and those that remained in the valleys below Petram. Now, the largest parts of our Eden and Petram armies have been gathered for the fight, along with The Guardians of Liberty ready to provide their support.
The soldiers are easy to determine purely by sight. The forces of Eden and Petram have their own distinct uniforms, while the Guardians remain a hodgepodge of militiamen and women from all over the regions. Those from the West, like The Guardians, display their amateur status as soldiers by wearing their native desert clothes. They will mostly act in reserve forces, tasked with attacking the enemy lines known to be less well guarded.
Beyond the base, the enormous gathering of vehicles is a sight to behold. Artillery vehicles, mobile command centres, tanks and armoured personnel carriers, jeeps fitted with gun turrets, large trucks used to ferry men. Many are specific military vehicles, those that will form the front line. Many others, however, are modified desert cars and trucks, used by those across the Deadlands and by The Guardians in order to protect their lands.
There are hundreds of them, perhaps even thousands. From my vantage point at the edge of the camp, I can barely believe the scale. Standing beside me, Velia looks on in wonder.
“I grew up thinking the world was so small,” she whispers. “I never knew such a force could be assembled…”
Neither did I.
And yet, the numbers of the Baron may be even greater, with many more of his men still spread out across the regions. Gathering a full force takes time, time that we don’t have. And, like him, we still have many thousands dispersed all over the lands, fighting in little towns and villages, through the woods and hills. Truly, this civil war has found itself into every corner of these lands. And now, the centrepiece of it all is going to erupt, like a giant volcano that dominates the world, ready to spew its lava onto all.
Before we leave, and before all of the gathered souls climb into cars and trucks and jeeps and tanks, Drake stands above everyone and speaks a few words.
Climbing to the summit of the wall surrounding the base, and looking upon all those within it, and all those gathered outside, he holds a voice amplifier to his mouth and looks down over the gathered thousands.
“Today, we go to war,” he starts, his voice booming and echoing through the lands. “I know that many of you have seen fighting already. That all our homes and regions and places we hold dear have been exposed to the terrors of conflict. But until this point, nothing has matched this day. Nothing is as important as what we are about to attempt.”
His hand swings out to the East, to no man’s land, and the regions beyond, and the coast a long way beyond that.
“Out there our enemy huddles. They control much of the world we once thought was safe. They have sprung up from the ground and taken a grip of this nation that refuses to weaken. In the hours and days to come, we will beat their grip into submission. We will tear off their hand if we need to. All of us are fighting for our futures: not only our own, but those of our children, and their children, and the countless generations that follow.
“Baron Reinhold wants to take this county back to a terrible time. He wants to destroy all that we’ve built, and revert to the systems of control that shacked us all for so long. You all know now that it is the world of Augustus Knight that he wants to restore, a world many of you will remember. If we fail, our country will never recover. The future is counting on us to be victorious. It is counting on you!”
His words bring a roar from the throng, thousands of voices gathering as one. Over their calls, his own voice rises, calling out louder and louder.
“Think of the loves ones you’ve lost. Think of those you want to see safe, to live long and happy in a free world. We are fighting for our world, for our regions and homes. But mostly, we fight for our families and friends, for the person stood next to you now. Look at them, and know that they will do everything to see it done. And you must do the same.
“Now climb into your cars and jeeps and APCs. Set your eyes on the East. We drive to war. We drive to victory!”
The roars reach a crescendo as Dr
ake raises his arms and soaks it up for a moment, before descending back down the ground.
“Your grandfather’s a great speaker!” remarks Velia over the din.
I look on him proudly. “He’s a great man.”
Then, to the vehicles we go, thousands of men and women all moving to their assigned convoys. We begin as one, grinding down the large tracks that lead through no man’s land, the night now falling fast and turning the world black.
But around us, the sound of engines is constant and loud, an endless grumbling that spreads far into the distance across the lands. And in the air too, attack helicopters float, giving us fair warning of any enemy battlements down below. And planes fly, shooting across the night sky, ready to set off the bombing raids that will aim to take out the more heavily guarded enemy positions.
What military might we have has been gathered here as one. Dozens of heavily fortified tanks and artillery units capable of bombarding the cities from many miles away. Aircraft that can sweep in and out at terrifying speeds. Helicopters that can snipe and shoot as they hover above us, like angels on our shoulders.
And yet, the enemy will have the same. With the fighting breaking out so quickly all those weeks ago, we had little time to protect all of our military provisions and armaments. Military bases were raided and overcome as the soldiers marched out to protect the people. Armoured vehicles and aircraft that belonged to our forces were stolen and added to the enemy’s swelling ranks. Before Eden fell, the aircraft in the hangers there were stolen too, with the military commanders who defected to the Baron making sure their own men and vehicles were available for war.
Whatever we have, the Baron may have more. These terrible machines capable of ending so many lives in a single moment. A dropped bomb that cripples a building. A missile that plummets into the heart of an oncoming troop of soldiers. A tank or artillery shell that can do untold damage in the blink of an eye.
All these terrible weapons that we have at our disposal, the enemy has too. Battle will rage on the lands and in the skies, the heavens and earth turning to turmoil. Protective measures will no doubt be deployed, blocking shells and missiles, cutting aircraft down from the air. Like a simple hand-to-hand fight, punch will be followed by counter punch, attack by defence.
But as the fight wears on, one side will weaken. One side will administer the finishing blow, knocking the enemy to the floor, and standing over them, victorious.
Such is the case in war.
Through the night, the convoy rumbles, the enemy no doubt preparing for our arrival. We have no real hope of surprising them or catching them truly off guard. Who’s to say whether one of the Seekers hasn’t already seen us coming? And, even if they haven’t, the Baron’s many lookouts and spies and little troops of men spread across the land will quickly pick up on our movements.
We have to expect that. Just as we have hidden agents moving in secret around and near the coastline, so must he have his own men watching over Fort Warden and gauging our strength. He would be a fool not to do so, and truly the man has proven himself to be anything but a fool so far.
What he may not know, however, are our numbers. Until dawn comes and he’s able to accurately estimate the size of our force, he can’t know exactly what’s coming his way. Nor can he know our battle plans, unless of course he has spies right in our midst. It’s a thought that’s crossed our minds, of course, but one that we cannot possibly spend any time or energy in contemplating.
Even so, the true nature of our plan has been kept from the main army. Even some of the high ranking commanders are unaware of our real intentions. As far as most are aware, the mission is the battle itself. For the few on the inside, however, the true purpose of this enormous assault is purely diversionary. Winning by strength of arms is an unlikely feat. Only by taking out the leaders will the rest of the army crumble and fall.
My thoughts stray here and there as we cross the lands and the hours pass by. I’ll get no sleep. I can’t imagine that many will. My mind rumbles like the convoy with endless thoughts, moving one way and then the other, never settling for long.
With Velia sitting next to me, my mind falls on her quite often. I think of a life beyond this war, a life with her. Hunting in the woods. Sitting by the lake. Enjoying life’s simple pleasures with no worries or concerns to distract us. I imagine living as my parents do, with Link and Ellie so close by. The same could happen again, all of us living in the same area. Maybe Ajax and I could build our own home, live nearby our parents with the twins. Their mother, perhaps, could come too, move to the verdant woods from her harsh home in the West.
It’s a fantasy that may never come true, but one that finds its way into my thoughts as the warm light of dawn starts to spread across the lands. The fresh colours tear the daydream from my mind, however, the coast growing ever closer as we pass old towns and villages that have so recently been abandoned, many of them in a rush. All over, signs of recent fighting remain, fires still burning in some places, the sight of red blood an ever present under the early morning sun.
It’s a good thing for the people to see. It will help to supply them with a fresh determination, a fresh hatred for the people who have stolen our lands, stolen so many lives, taken the liberty from the people with such wanton carnage.
Such sights will cover much of our nation, and will only grow worse if we should fail. For those tired or frightened or doubting the assault, seeing the lands like this will cement in their minds the duty they’re here to perform.
With the sun rising, the convoy comes to a large midsection along a major superhighway, cutting across the earth. What was once filled with hovercars and trucks and buses is now empty, old husks of burnt and destroyed vehicles littering the sides of the road.
Here, the convoy will diverge, our forces separating for the coordinated assault across the coast. We’ll see how the Baron likes it. Not so long ago, he was sending his troops into New Atlantis, and Piscator, and Mercator, as well as many others. Now, it’s the two major coastal cities that we’re about to bombard.
At the head of the convoy, the various leaders gather. I watch from the backseat of an armoured jeep alongside Velia as Drake, Jackson, Cyra, Ellie, Athena, Markus, and General Trent pull together, along with several other top end military commanders.
This will be the final goodbye before the assault, the final chance to share information before we go our separate ways.
To Piscator in the South, Markus will travel with the main Petram and Deadlands army, supported by some of The Guardians. To the North, General Trent will take his Eden army and strike at Mercator. Jackson will lead the remaining forces, made up of Guardians and those from the West, with Athena at their head and Ellie in support, moving through the hills and woods and the large patch of land linking the two cities. Within those lands, the enormous camps of the enemy are situated, many of them holding civilians, but many others with the reserve forces of the Baron.
Drake, Cyra, Velia and I will accompany Jackson and Athena. Disguised as one of them, and wearing regular desert clothes, we will try to get as close to the entrance to the research facility as possible without letting our identities become known. Hidden amid the sprawling battle, perhaps the Seekers won’t see us coming, their visions muddied by the many conflicts happening down the coast.
We have other Watchers with us, Athena’s two finest warriors fighting alongside her forces from the West. Elsewhere, a few more of her trainees will join Markus and the Eden army led by General Trent. While Markus will no doubt want to fight on the front lines, however, General Trent will remain back at the mobile command post, directing matters from the rear.
Having a few Watchers, whilst of limited ability, will be useful in the fighting. If they don’t encounter any of the Seekers, their abilities should give them some advantage. Should that occur, they may well act as diversions themselves, drawing the Seekers to their locations. The more we can distract them, the better it will be for our primary mission.
When Jackson gets back into the jeep, however, he has an update for us.
“Link and Ajax are still working their way through the Graveyard, but they’re not far from Piscator now. They will link up with Markus when he arrives.”
“But what about us?” I say. “We need them…”
“We cannot count on them, Theo,” says my father. “If they are slowed by the fighting, there’s nothing we can do. The mission will progress regardless. We have no choice.”
As he speaks, the growling and grumbling of engines fills the air once more, and the convoy begins to diverge and spread apart. At the main crossroads, the huge tanks and artillery units and APCs, and the smaller jeeps and modified cars and motorbikes begin to separate, some moving South and some North, the two main armies heading to war.
But ahead is where we set our sights, straight towards the coast and right between the two cities. Along with many hundreds of other willing warriors, we begin driving onwards again, edging ever closer to the lands crawling with the enemy.
We have our orders, and now it’s time to see them through.
The final battle is about to begin.