War at the Wall (The Watchers Trilogy, Book Three)

by T. C. Edge

  For a moment, we just lie there, unmoving, marvelling at the destructive beauty of it all. And then, with a sudden order, Drake jumps up and begins charging towards the obliterated camp.

  We all follow close behind as I hear Drake's voice on the comms.

  “Markus, get back here. And find out who can drive these vehicles.”

  “Copy that,” says Markus.

  I turn to the right to see figures appearing over the hill on the western horizon, Markus, Ellie, and Athena leading them. We continue on towards the vehicles, parked sufficiently far away from the explosion to be unharmed, and my curiosity takes me immediately to the truck at the rear.

  The flames are hot, even from a few dozen metres away, but we're well shielded by our suits. I reach the back door of the truck and pull it open. Inside are stocks of food and water, with plenty of space to transport more of the people. Drake joins me.

  “Perfect,” he says, inspecting the interior. “No one will need to travel on foot.”

  Outside the main gates, now blown open and burning, Troy, Link, and Jackson gather. Drake and I rush around to join them.

  “No one was surviving that,” says Jackson, staring ahead. “Good riddance.”

  I see the others nodding.

  “OK,” says Drake. “We have eight vehicles so need eight drivers. Markus, how are things looking?”

  Crackling over he comms, Markus speaks: “good. We have lots who can drive these trucks. I can too.”

  “OK, I'll take the wheel of one of the jeeps myself. I want one of us at the front of each vehicle. Right, here they come, let's start loading them up.”

  On cue, Markus comes jogging across the plains towards us, a few hundred people at his back. Among them, and towards the front, I see my brother and sister. I quickly find myself alongside them.

  “Carson, you can drive, right?” I ask my brother.

  “Sure, no problem,” he says.

  “OK. You can operate one of the trucks. Cassie, we'll ride up front with him.”

  She nods, looking slightly shell-shocked at the giant burning camp ahead. Drake pulls her into a hug.

  “Dad, Carson's going to drive one of the trucks with me and Cassie.”

  Drake nods, his eldest daughter still in his arms.

  “OK, good idea. Load up, we have no time to lose.”

  The next fifteen minutes are hectic. The vehicles are all brought together and lined up, the other drivers are chosen, and the people are loaded on board. Space is tight, but we just about manage to get everyone in. The heavy loads will, however, make progress a little laboured.

  In the lead, the two jeeps are driven by Drake and Markus. Behind them, Carson drives the first truck, followed by Jackson's father, Stan, then Troy, then a series of drivers I haven't had the pleasure of meeting. Alongside them are Ellie, Link, and Athena, completing the convoy.

  With the day still only entering its first stages, we begin moving off northwards towards the wall, leaving the ruins of the concentration camp behind. It takes a while before the heavy plumes of black smoke disappear entirely, visible for many miles in every direction. No doubt it will cause some interest in the surrounding area, the explosion alone probably felt in nearby towns.

  So deep into the mainland, the land is desolate and barren. Up this far, in the no man's land between the regions and the wall, there's little to hinder our progress except the poor quality of the roads and the weight of the people within each truck. We grumble on as the hours pass by, with some of the ruins of the old world springing up here and there, skeletons of a past long forgotten by most.

  Sitting between my brother and sister, I find that I have little to say to them as we go. Any subject we might usually discuss on their rare visits back home to Arbor are purposefully side stepped; how their husbands and wives are doing, how our mother is feeling, how life is going at school, at work. Now, none of that remains, so much of it sore to the touch. Carson's wife is dead. Cassie's husband has been killed. Our mother has passed from the virus that eventually overcame her. We choose not to discuss any of it, instead offering support to each other with silent hugs and comforting touches.

  Gradually, as we progress further from the camp, further from the region that they have never left, they break out of their malaise. Most of all, they show interest in how their little sister has created such a stir, the small pebble that has seemingly led to an avalanche which is now spreading across the mainland.

  And my abilities, and the abilities of their father, so difficult for them to understand. They don't look at me like they used to; as a little sister, vulnerable and innocent. They look at me with fresh eyes, see the change that has occurred in me over the months, the years.

  “You have become a leader, Cy,” says Carson. “Your name has spread through every region. Everyone knows who you are.”

  Periodically, we stop to take short breaks. Some of the food from the supply truck is passed out as the people bask in the sunshine, morning ticking into afternoon. At the head of the convoy, our small strike force gathers together beside Drake's jeep.

  “No word yet from the Generals,” says Drake. “They must not be in range of our communicators.”

  “And how far are we from the wall?” asks Markus.

  “I've spoken with a couple of men who know the area well,” says Jackson. “They estimate we're about a hundred miles out.”

  “In that case we can assume that the Generals are at least that on the other side,” says Drake. “Probably more, given the distance they had to travel.”

  “So what do we do?” asks Ellie.

  “We continue on,” says Drake. “We need to get close enough to the wall to launch our strike, but far enough away to remain hidden from sight. These people aren't going to be of any help right now. It's going to be another covert operation.”

  We re-enter our respective vehicles and the convoy continues on its way. As we go, the weather begins to change, clouds forming and a fierce wind rising up. The first drops of rain begin to fall in the middle of the afternoon, soon swirling into a storm that batters and pummels us with a mixture of hail and red dust. Ahead, visibility drops to only a few metres as we enter a wall of billowing sand that slows our pace even further.

  Communication between the vehicles is also shrouded by the inclement weather. Ahead, Carson makes sure to just about keep the rear of the jeep ahead of us visible. Occasionally, it drops out of sight before re-appearing soon after, the roads by now so poorly maintained as to be rendered useless.

  Crunching along dirt and constantly shaken by the bristling wind, I'm careful to maintain my focus in search of any falling debris ahead. Cassie watches me with interest.

  “Are you looking into the Void?” she asks. “I heard that's what it's called.”

  “I am,” I say, nodding. “I'm looking for any signs of danger.”

  “Can you all do that? All Watchers?”

  “No, not all. Ellie, for example, only has visions. Most can't see into the Void, and if they can, they can't see far.”

  “But you can,” she says, with a hint of pride in her voice. “I always knew my little sister was special. Mum and I used to talk about it...”

  Mention of our mother forces her to trail off, her voice suddenly failing her. I turn and see her looking out of the window at nothing but a red and orange shroud. My hands reaches to take hers, and her eyes return to me, shining with tears.

  She smiles as one falls down her cheek.

  “She'd be so proud of you,” she says to me. “We all are.”

  With that she wipes her eyes clean, takes a breath, and makes a firm effort to change the subject once again. This time, it's tales of the Deadlands and my adventures that she's keen to pick at.

  The dust cloud lasts for what seems like an age. Eventually, however, it begins to dissipate, the visibility ahead growing clearer with each minute and, suddenly, brightening completely.

  And with it, comes a crackling at my feet. I look down to see my
helmet nestled on the floor. And inside it, the communicator hissing static that eventually forms into words.

  “All vehicles stop,” I hear Drake say from the front. “Strike force assemble at my jeep.”

  Carson brings the truck to a halt. I shuffle past Cassie and open the door, dropping into the sand. Ahead, in the far distance, the sight of the wall spreads from one side of the world to the other, cutting a line towards the horizon. Nothing but a distant blur against the heat haze rising up from the desert floor. Behind, the others rush past as I stare ahead. I'm quick to join them at the front with Drake.

  We all look at him in silence. In his hand, I see the communication device given to him by Professor Lane.

  “I've heard from the Generals,” he says. “They are nearing the wall and will be there in a couple of hours.”

  His eyes pass from one of us to the next, before looking out over to the wall in the distance, still many miles away.

  “The countdown is on, everyone,” he says. “We have a lot of work to do.”

  22 - Infiltration

  I lie down next to my father on a rocky outcrop overlooking a long stretch of rugged desert. Alongside us, Link, Athena, Troy, and Jackson stare ahead, sizing up the view that dominates our eyeline.

  A couple of miles to the rear, hidden away and out of sight in the ruins of an old town, the convoy of vehicles is parked. There, the people will wait, led by Markus, ably supported by Ellie, until the job is done.

  As we look ahead, that job looks a little more difficult that we'd originally thought.

  The intel provided us by the Eden prisoners back in Petram appears slightly out of date. Whether we were purposefully given false information or not is hard to know and, right now, irrelevant. The only thing that matters is the fact that this section of the wall, thought to be largely unoccupied, is in fact well manned and well armed.

  Ahead of us, the giant wall extends high into the air. Along its top, battlements are fixed, huge guns ready to fire at any approaching enemy. The tiny shapes of soldiers are visible, stationed at lookout posts or patrolling side to side. On the ground, at the base of the wall, a significant military base stretches, walled off and fitted with a number of buildings. And built into the wall itself is a large gate, seemingly used for the passing of military vehicles to and from the Deadlands.

  We all take in the sight. Troy is the first to speak.

  “Not quite what I was expecting,” is all he says, giving voice to the collective thoughts of the group.

  Drake's eyes, however, scan the place carefully. When he speaks he does so without joviality. He's working out a strategy.

  “When the Generals arrive, they will draw the fire of the Eden forces,” he says. “The men in the base will be distracted. That will allow us to enter more easily. We will be able to disable their main guns and open the gate. Our forces will overrun them. We have far greater numbers here.”

  He speaks with the confidence of a man who knows the place well, which of course he does. Perhaps not this part of the wall in particular, but the wall itself is very familiar to him. He himself guarded it for a long time, many years ago.

  In his absence, however, things may have changed. He turns to Jackson, a more recent resident, and waits for his input.

  “The guns are controlled by a central control room,” Jackson says. “If we get there, we can shut them all down in one go.”

  “And the gate?” asks Troy.

  “The gate's controls will be in another room immediately above it.”

  “Then we'll have to split on entry,” says Troy. “Two strike teams, two targets. When will our forces get here?”

  “They're not far out,” says Drake. “We'll have to wait for them to engage. I have to warn them about what they're up against. Those artillery guns look long range.”

  “They are,” says Jackson. “Perhaps longer than our mobile artillery. If the tanks and soldiers get too close, they'll be blown to smithereens by them.”

  “Just another trap,” I mumble. “This place was meant to be easy to get through and poorly guarded. We've been lured in again.”

  “Perhaps, perhaps not,” says Drake. “Whatever, our presence hasn't been noted yet. If we can get inside and disable those guns, they won't have a chance. Jackson, do you know how to shut them down?”

  Jackson nods.

  “Shouldn't be a problem once we're inside.”

  “Good. We've got five Watchers here, and Jackson's one of the finest soldiers I've ever met. Getting inside won't be a problem.”

  Link and Athena stare forward quietly. I can see both limbering up mentally for the fight, particularly Athena, her eyes narrowing in anticipation.

  Drake begins shuffling backwards, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his communication device.

  “I'll be back in a moment.”

  He stands as he descends the small outcrop, out of the sight from the wall, and begins pacing in circles down below as he speaks. I turn back to the base and spy the dozens of soldiers going about their daily duties. They look well trained and well armed. But they're only soldiers. Nothing more.

  We wait for a little longer as the sun stretches across the sky. When Drake returns he tells us that our forces are getting into position a fair distance out from the wall, sufficiently far so that the artillery guns cannot reach them, but close enough so that Eden are aware that they're approaching.

  “It will be enough to draw their eye,” says Drake. “We'll move off when the sun goes down, like last night.”

  So we wait, and watch as a commotion builds below. As the light starts to fade, the base begins to empty out, the majority of the soldiers running to man their positions on the wall. Then, out of the blue, the loud boom of artillery fills the air as several of the guns fire.

  We look at each other with concern. Jackson, however, suggests they're just testing the range. The voice of General Richter on the line confirms that the shells landed well short. From their position, neither can they be hit or can they fire shells themselves. In most cases, this would lead to a stalemate. But not with us lying in wait.

  Darkness continues to fill the sky, now cleared of clouds. First the moon appears, then the stars arrive on by one. Soon, the light of day has faded into the cool gloom of night. It's time for us to move.

  With our night vision activated, we scan the world ahead. Other than those who might be stationed in buildings, few remain outside.

  “We move as a team,” says Drake. “Silencers on. Don't hesitate to kill.”

  Athena licks her lips. Link's eyes darken and narrow. Jackson, the most vulnerable of all of us, grits his teeth like a lion about to strike.

  “When we reach the entrance to the wall, Jackson will lead Troy and Link to shut down the guns. I will lead Cyra and Athena to open the gate. Got it?”

  Everyone confirms their role. And then we move.

  Up and over the outcrop we go, keeping low as we did the previous night. We move swiftly, all enemy eyes focused on the looming threat of the rebel army just out of their reach. No one sees us cross over the rugged earth, reach the back wall of the enemy base, and begin moving down the flank.

  No one sees us as we pass by a small patrol and send them to the dirt without a moment's hesitation. No one sees us as we rush closer and closer to the giant wall itself, looming larger as we approach.

  I marvel at the sight of it as we reach its outer layer of solid stone. I've seen it before, but never like this. Only in my visions, from the air, from a long way off. Never so close I'm able to touch it, stand at its base and look up as it reaches storey after storey into the night sky.

  Athena, Link, and Troy seem equally astonished by its sheer scale, a wall that makes the one outside of Petram seem positively tiny. Only Eden itself surpasses it in terms of its architectural audacity, a place that would most likely cause Athena's head to spontaneously explode through sheer wonder at the sight.

  We allow ourselves a moment of indulgence before turni
ng our minds back to the task. Above, the artillery guns begin booming once more, lighting up the sky as they fling their explosives at our distant army. Drake quickly pulls out his communicator.

  “General Richter, we're at the base of the wall, about to infiltrate. We'll have the guns down in minutes.”

  “Copy that, General Drayton. Our forces are ready and raring to go.”

  The communicator disappears back into Drake's pocket. He nods at Jackson, who steps inside, followed swiftly by Troy and Link. A second later, Drake enters with myself and Athena in quick step behind.

  We all click off our night vision. Bright lights blaze within, giving shape to the interior. To the left and right is a long corridor stretching along the bottom floor. Ahead, a large staircase zig zags up the wall, flanked on either side by a lift for quicker passage. I can see no soldiers, the base of the wall seemingly deserted.

  “Sir, the gun control system will be centrally situated between the main guns,” says Jackson. “That means top floor, to the right.”

  Drake nods.

  “Go,” he says. Then he speaks directly to Link and Troy. “Protect him at all costs.”

  I couldn't have put it better myself.

  Off they go, silently making their way to the staircase ahead and up. Athena looks on enviously, jealous that they're quicker to the action.

  “What about the gate?” she asks.

  “Like Jackson said, the control room will be immediately above it. The gate stands three storeys high. So we aim for four.”

  With that, he moves to the stairs himself, and we follow once more. The sounds of footsteps echoes down from above as the other team makes its progress to the summit. We're greeted by no opposition as we gobble up the stairs, quickly reaching the exit point for the fourth floor.