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

by T. C. Edge

  Within the camp, however, all appears well. There are no apparent threats from outside coming in. No army approaching. No one with Watcher abilities has seen anything to give us concern.

  I spend a bit of time that day checking over the systems in place at the registration gate. With the extremities of the base guarded by soldiers, and the wider area monitored from the wall, all new refugees are funnelled from all sides into a pen, to be scanned and checked for weapons before entering the camp itself. The security around the base, which I also spend some time inspecting, appears as tight as a drum.

  The process is simple: refugees enter the funnel, have their bodies and any luggage they have meticulously checked for weapons, and then have their barcodes scanned. Their names are taken, along with their duties and the region they've come from, and then they're passed onto an accommodation officer who finds them a place to stay, most likely outside of the wall in one of the camps set up on the Deadlands where they're more safe.

  Any weapons that are found are confiscated and taken to the well guarded stocks inside the wall. Anyone with a more suspicious duty – such as an old soldier or Custodian, disillusioned like Tommy and his men – are more closely monitored. It seems harsh, but the general consensus is that such men and woman are more likely to be moles.

  Tommy, of course, is a special case, and being known to us, is immediately assimilated into the front line forces with his men. His weapons, as promised, are returned to him, and he even finds himself on patrol and even going on missions to find supplies within a couple of days or arrival. Men with his knowledge and experience, while untrustworthy to some, are also hugely valuable. And despite Ajax's warning, I do trust Tommy.

  With the Generals now aware of the possible threat, guards around the weapons rooms and those guarding the camp's extremities are doubled. An extra vigilance permeates the military forces, all of them asked to keep a keen eye on anything that might look suspicious. And from a simple warning from Ajax, the entire base suddenly finds itself in a heightened state of alert.

  Two nights after his warning, however, his clairvoyance proves correct. I'm woken sharply from my sleep by a fierce shaking at my shoulder. And in the darkness, the tense voice of Athena cuts into my weary head.

  “We have to get out of here! Now!”

  I'm pulled from my bed, the haze in front of my eyes clearing quickly. Dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, I stumble to my feet, barely able to find my footing before Athena begins dragging me towards the door.

  She shouts loudly as we rush down the corridor: “GET OUT! EVERYONE GET OUT NOW!”

  I don't need to ask her what's happening. We surge through the corridor as a couple of heads peek from doorways, watching sleepily as we charge past and towards the exit to the dorm. Athena keeps on shouting for them to leave. A couple have the wit to follow us. Others shake their heads in confusion, not understanding the threat.

  I do. I don't know what it is, but something terrible is about to happen. As we burst into the evening air, the heavy boom of a gun sounds above us. We have no time to turn and look. I know the sound well enough.

  Up on the wall, one of the artillery guns, armed to protect us, fires a shell into the building with a deafening roar. I don't look back as we charge onwards, feeling the fiery burst of flame as the dorm is hit, bursting into a thousand pieces, the explosion ripping up through the night sky.

  The blast is so powerful it sends us both off our feet, tossed forward several metres. We both hit the ground with a thump, the wind pressed from my body as I roll and turn to see the carnage unfold behind me. A swirling fireball dominates the middle of the camp, several bodies wrapped up in a cloak of flame as they scream, piercing the air with their blood curdling roars of pain.

  “We have to go!” shouts Athena again.

  This time, awake, I sense the threat looming again. We jump to our feet and stumble further from the fire as the artillery gun booms again. Moments later, another explosion tears up the ground behind us as we pace towards the exit to the base. Chased by the rogue gun, we rush, more booms filling the night, more buildings succumbing to its fury.

  People pour from their dorms, terrified, screaming as they join us in our rush to the exit. I spare a glance behind to see bodies strewn across the floor, some still burning, others torn apart by the force of the explosions.

  Further booms shake the air and cause tremors to rise up through the ground as we finally reach the exit, round the wall of the base, and look towards Knight's Wall. Into the entrance I see Drake rush, along with Troy and several other guards. Athena and I waste no time in chasing after them, entering the wall just as the booming gun comes to an abrupt halt.

  Inside, the sound of gunfire rattles down through the interior as we reach the steps and start running up. Taking several steps in each stride, we reach the top floor in moments, just as the gunfire begins to calm, only intermittent now. We pass bodies as we go, our own guards lying dead at the base and in the corridor of the top floor. There, down the corridor, I spy the main control room for the artillery guns. Outside, Drake and Troy stand, firing inside as the other guards stand back.

  We reach them in moments, completely unarmed. The guards try to stop us but we brush past them as Drake and Troy step into the control room. Inside, I see more death. But this time, not those dressed as guards, but those dressed as civilians, dirty khaki trousers and shirts draped across their bodies. They all lie across the floor, riddled with bullets, dead eyes staring in various directions.

  All but one.

  At the back, hiding behind a control unit, a single man remains.

  “We need him alive!” whispers Troy harshly as he paces in with my father.

  Athena and I follow as they drop their weapons and rush on, rounding the control unit to seize the man. They lift him to his feet as he struggles with something in his mouth.

  “Cyanide!” calls Drake, digging his fingers through the man's lips.

  It's too late. Biting down on a pill between his back teeth, foam begins to erupt from his throat. And as it does, his eyes find me, standing behind. And in them, I see failure.

  My father begins barking questions, but there's no point. The man's eyes begin to fade, before suddenly going flat, frothing white foam bubbling from his lips. Drake lets go, and the man drops to the floor. All of the assailants are dead.

  “Scan them all!” shouts Troy, calling the guards into the room. “And someone go find the Generals!”

  One of the guards rushes off as the others go from man to man with their scanners. Clearing the infiltrator's wrists, they scan their barcodes and announce the results.

  “This one's a factory worker from Fossor,” shouts one guard.

  “A chopper from Lignum,” shouts another.

  One by one, each man is scanned. And one by one, the same result is delivered: these men all had regular duties, all came from the regions.

  I share a look with my father. His eyes are hooded.

  “Check them more closely,” he says. “This makes no sense!”

  The same result is delivered.

  “Maybe they've had new barcodes installed,” says Troy. “Their old ones could have been replaced.”

  Drake begins nodding. It's a plausible theory, but one that's quite terrifying. If these men could get in so easily, why not many more. Are there others in the camp who are preparing a strike? Do we now close our borders and stop letting people in?

  By the time all the men have been scanned, Generals Richter and Sharpe arrive, woken by the commotion and looking dishevelled. Drake and Troy immediately fill them in on what's been happening. Athena adds her own input.

  “I saw it, just before it happened,” she says. “They were firing right on our dorm. I think they were trying to kill Cyra, sir. They must have known where she slept.”

  “Then we move her to the wall, move both of you to new accommodation,” says Drake.

  “We have no choice there,” says Athena. “Half of the military base
has been destroyed.”

  A guard clicks on a monitor in the room, and the video feed of the burning base appears. We all look at the carnage below, and a new terror rips through me.

  Jackson. Carson. Cassie. Amy.

  All of their dorms are down there...

  27 - A Camp in Ruins

  I rush from the control room as fast as my shaking legs will carry me. Down the steps. Out into the dying night. Towards the burning wreckage of the military base as the first shades of daylight begin to creep up on the horizon.

  I reach the main entrance and look down the central street. About fifty or so metres away, my dorm lies in ruins. Around it, several others crumble and burn. Dead bodies litter the ground. Soldiers flock inside to put out the flames and carry the wounded from the scene. All around, people cry in desperation and fear as they search for their loved ones.

  I scan the interior quickly as I continue inside. One man stands above all others, coordinating the troops as they work. My heart threatens to stop through sheer relief as I see that it's Jackson. I run towards him and pounce into his arms.

  “Cyra! You're safe...”

  He hugs me tight, his soot covered body drenching me in dirt and filth. His blue eyes burst out from his face, covered in ash, keen and alert. I kiss his lips and taste smoke, inhaled during his escape from his own burning barrack.

  “Have you seen my brother and sister?!” I ask him.

  He shakes his head.

  “Which dorm were they in?”

  I search around the half destroyed base, my bearings shot, and look to the eastern part of the base. It's untouched, still standing.

  “There,” I say, pointing. “They were there.”

  His eyes follow my finger.

  “Good. My family was there too. They're OK,” he says, noting the concern in my eyes. “I'm sure Carson and Cassie are too.”

  I begin to move off, away towards the other end of the camp. His words divert my path.

  “That part of the base has been cleared,” he says. “They've been gathered outside.”

  “Thanks Jack,” I shout as I return to the exit, following the path of frightened refugees being guided outside the camp by soldiers.

  Beyond the base's walls, I see the people being gathered together. Among them, a few administrators walk with clipboards, signing people off lists as they go. I pass one of them as I move into the crowd, take the woman's clipboard, and begin checking the list.

  Listed alphabetically, I quickly find the two names I'm searching for: Carson and Cassie Drayton. Both have ticks next to them. Both are alive.

  As the woman tries to take the clipboard back, I flick back to the front page. There, listed towards the top, I see the name: Appleby, Amy.

  There's no tick against it.

  I spend the next few minutes walking among the crowd, frantically looking for her. When I pass my brother and sister I hug them and let them know that our father is OK, before continuing my search. Amy is nowhere to be seen.

  With the light of dawn now building quickly, the camp begins to grow more visible, the ruins cleared of the dead as soldiers sift through the rubble. By now, most of the flames have been doused, the ground black with ash and charred brick and wood. I see Jackson working tirelessly, and put myself forward to help.

  “Help clear the rubble and debris,” he tells me. “But be careful...”

  I go towards a group of soldiers working on one of the half destroyed buildings. I know it's the side that Amy was on, but can't be sure which dorm she was in. I quickly add what strength I have to the cause, shifting bricks and scree away, digging further into the ruin as any survivors are sought.

  A soft hand appears under a blackened stone. It twitches and I hear a moan filter out from beneath the tangle.

  “Here, quick!” I shout. “Survivor!”

  As many men as can be spared charge in, and with as much speed and delicacy as we can, the debris is removed. I look upon the face of the woman with a disappointment that makes me feel guilty. It's not a girl I know. It's not Amy.

  Badly injured, the girl is put onto a stretcher and carried away. Most aren't as lucky. As I turn back to continue my work, I see other bodies being carried from the charred mess. I search the faces of each, some bloodied, others dark with soot and ash.

  I only recognise one.

  In a dorm next door, I see the shape of Amy's body being raised from the fallen bricks. I rush over, brush the hair from her face, and see her soft eyes looking back at me. They're blank. Her mouth, so often curled into a bright smile, is stiff with a twisted look of pain. I shut my eyes and turn away.

  Amy is dead.

  Jackson, overseeing it all, comes to my side and pulls me into a hug. My arms hang down, numb.

  “I'm sorry,” he whispers. “I'm so sorry.”

  They're words I've heard too many times. Words I never want to hear again.

  “She was just a teacher in Oakmont,” I say. “She only wanted to help people.”

  “Go, Cyra. You don't need to be here,” Jackson says softly.

  I shake my head, slip from his arms, and get back to work. Go face to face with more death. It has become the norm in my life.

  The camp takes most of the morning to clear. I see Jackson watching me, coming over to see that I'm OK. I merely nod and continue with my job. By the time the afternoon begins to fade into night, the camp has grown quiet once again. Now, only half of it remains, the other a blackened graveyard.

  I join a meeting of the war council, held up in the wall. The count of the dead stands at over one hundred, most of them those who'd suffered in the concentration camp in Agricola. They came here, thinking they'd be safe. They were wrong.

  “We must close our doors,” asserts General Sharpe. “Too many are coming in already, the burden is becoming too great. This is the last straw. We can't be attacked from within again.”

  “We cannot do that,” retorts Drake. “We cannot discriminate. These people have faced death to get to us. We can't just turn them away.”

  “Then we compromise,” says General Richter, acting mediator. “We allow them passage through into the Deadlands. They can travel to Petram.”

  This option silences both Drake and General Sharpe. Other voices are heard, their opinions taken; Markus, Troy, Jackson. Stein, back from Petram once more to help transfer the more seriously wounded to the mountain, offers his own voice.

  “The mountain can hold many thousands, tens of thousands, safely. Each time I return here, I see the camp growing from the air. I agree with General Richter; you should start sending them to Petram. The spies of Knight want to destabilise you here, not back there. And they want to eliminate Cyra. Don't give them the chance. There's little damage they can do in Petram that will be of any worth to the Chancellor.”

  “I agree,” says General Sharpe. “Allowing them passage solves both problems. Many of them have vehicles and can reach the mountain fast. However, we must maintain our focus on the threat ahead, not within. Enemy movements show that the Eden troops are beginning to mass along the coast, at the naval bases. Now might be the time to strike, before they gain any further traction.”

  “No,” says Drake, once more offering an opposing view. “Here, we are safe. We have the protection of the wall and its weaponry. If we move off from here, we will be vulnerable...I've seen the coastline, those naval bases are well guarded, and we'd have a lot of trouble infiltrating them with our mobile artillery.”

  “We have superior numbers,” says General Richter, “according to our data...”

  “Yes, but most of them are untrained, and we're running low on weapons,” counters Drake. “Out there, our numbers would count for nothing.”

  The debate reaches an impasse. Others offer their views. The council appears divided, some believing a strike now will give us our best shot of eliminating the remaining Eden forces and closing off Eden itself.

  “Cut off their supply lies, as they've been doing to us,” says General Sh
arpe passionately.

  Others, however, agree with Drake; it's too risky, our position too weak when we leave the safety of the wall. The conclusion is simple: we need more intel, more information. We need to know exactly what we're up against.

  That night, Athena and I are given new accommodation within the safety of the wall. This time, the room is built for only two people. The lack of a third bed leads Ellie once more into my thoughts, gone now for more than a week, with no word having reached us about where she and Link might be, whether they're still alive.

  A few silent tears slip from my eyes as I lie in the dark, trying to sleep, thinking of Amy, now gone. She was too innocent and kind for this world, this new world filled with deception and pain and death and war. Perhaps it's better that she's left it. Maybe now she can be at peace.

  I return to the sight of her death the following day and stand for a moment in silence among the quiet ruins. The people still living within the base, my brother and sister and Jackson's family included, go about their business with hung heads and mournful eyes. Many of them have lost people too, friends and relatives from Agricola, innocent bystanders killed in an attack meant for me.

  As I stand and stare, I find Jackson once more coming to me. He holds something in his hand, within his closed fist.

  “This was salvaged from the rubble,” he says, raising up and opening his fingers.

  Inside, my mother's old watch lies, half blackened and melted by the furnace. A fresh tear slides from my face at the sight of it.

  I take it and hold it in my hands, rubbing my thumb along the broken glass.

  “Thank you, Jack,” I whisper, my head falling forward into his chest.

  The day lingers on quietly, a fear brewing among the people. The guard around the weapon control room is doubled once more, the perimeter of the base even more vigilantly patrolled. The refugees based on the mainland side of the wall are moved outside with the others. Further camps are set up, and those unable to fight are loaded into trucks to be taken to Petram.