by T. C. Edge
Behind, Jackson and the rest of the troops will be several minutes back still, rushing down the mountain to join the fight. For now, it's only us, and the many men and women from the other rebel army rushing up from below.
Drake gathers us together, and shouts over the din as the tanks continue to fire and edge forward.
“We wait until the wall is breached,” he calls. “When it is, we make for the hole. Use any cover you can as you advance. We stay as a team, watching each other's backs.”
We look to each other, and in particular Ellie. Link and I share a glance. One that says her safety is our main priority.
“Ellie,” Drake continues. “I want you to hang back, don't take any risks. Offer covering fire and coordinate with the other soldiers as they come forward.”
She nods.
“OK, good. The rest of us will advance with the front line as they arrive. It is time for us to use the gifts we've been given. Stand up and be counted. We need to be merciless.”
His last remark, I know, is for me. I've never enjoyed the prospect of killing, not even when someone is trying to do the same to me. But right now, I have no choice. It's do or die, kill or be killed. That's what we've been reduced to by him.
I turn to look back up the mountain path. The distant sight of lights appears, jigging up and down in the darkness. The main force of our soldiers will be here soon. The countdown is on.
I turn back to the battle ahead. More soldiers appear in the distance, coming up from below, advancing towards the Eden base. One of them leads a fresh batch, waving them up, standing out in the open. I see the bright sparks of gunfire at his feet, but nothing seems to hit him as he moves on, seemingly unafraid. His eyes turn to us, standing back behind the wall of rock, and he begins to come charging forward, his silhouette dancing in the night. Still more bullets flash around him, but hardly halt his progress.
Soon, he reaches the safety of the rock and emerges into the light. I see the face of a grizzled man, tanned, narrow eyed, his hair cut short and face like leather. Dark eyes pounce from behind deep sockets, and quickly find Drake.
“Well, well, well!” he calls, his voice gruff, hoarse from shouting. “I knew I'd find you here, Drake!”
He and my father share a manly embrace, smashing chests together before splitting once more. Both men beam.
“Troy, what the hell is all this? You've come at just the right time!”
The man smiles a knowing grin.
“Yeah, Drake, that's no coincidence...”
“You saw it happen?” asks Drake.
Troy nods, then casts his eyes over the rest of us.
“I hope this isn't all you've got, Drake. A few kids and a couple of tanks.”
He laughs, as Drake guides his eyes up the mountain, where the lights of the infantry continue to bob up and down.
“Five thousand guns,” says Drake. “And four long range artillery units up on the ridge.”
“So that's what's blasting holes in their defence,” says Troy with a grin.
“Holes? They've been opened up?”
“By the looks of it. You lot are going to miss out on the action unless you get involved.”
Drake turns to us all.
“You heard the man,” he says, just as the infantry, with Jackson at their head, begin to emerge from their darkness. “It's time we did our part.”
And with that, he turns, along with Troy, and begin rushing off towards the edge of the rock wall. Around the corner to battle.
14 - Born to Fight
I look to my left and see Ellie and Link. I look to my right and see Athena. I look behind me and see Jackson, charging towards us with thousands at his back.
And I look ahead, and see my father, bursting out into the storm of bullets.
It's time...
Without a word spoken, we all rush on cue, chasing Drake down. When we reach the edge of the rock wall, we stop briefly and I cast an eye around the corner. There, across the valley floor a couple of hundred metres away, I see blazing fires setting the night alight at various points along the Eden wall. Gun placements sit bent and twisted along its extremity, others still sending hails of gunfire at the onrushing soldiers.
Along the valley floor, shadows lie strewn in the darkness, bodies torn up by bullets and shrapnel, limbs ripped away by the force of explosions. It's carnage, the same carnage I've seen in my visions. But what I thought to be our own soldiers, massacred without hope of victory, is actually another force, dying for the same cause.
And it's time we joined them.
I turn back as Drake and Troy advance towards a flaming tank, using it for cover. The others wait for my order as if I'm leading the party.
“Ellie, stay at the back. Link, protect her. Athena, you're with me. Let's go.”
I step around the wall and the others come with me. The wispy trails of bullets fill the night air, clear even in the darkness. They stretch into the distance, fading the further away from me they are. The closer, and the more dangerous, the clearer they become. I breath deep and say a silent prayer of thanks.
My abilities are returning...
Soon, we're alongside Drake and Troy, kneeling behind the tank. The flames rise up, casting smoke into the air and sending heat blasting into our faces. Troy speaks.
“I'm rejoining my men,” he says. “Drake, I'll see you after. Be safe, old friend.”
“And you,” says Drake.
They clasp their hands around each others' wrists before Troy launches himself back into the battlefield.
“Who is he?” asks Ellie, astonished.
“Another Watcher from the Western coast,” says Drake. “I had hoped he would come to Petram, but clearly he's been busy doing other things...”
“Yeah, like building an army,” I say. “I had no idea there were other forces out there.”
“The Deadlands is a big place. Rebels are stretched far and wide. We're stronger than you think.”
“And stronger than Knight thinks,” says Ellie. “Bet he didn't count on this!”
“No...and there's no time to waste this opportunity. Drake turns back as Jackson and the first of our forces appears from behind the towering rocks. The small force led by Markus appears to have already advanced into the fray. Ahead, I see them moving skilfully forward down one flank, using rocks for cover.
Drake turns back to us.
“OK, let's go.”
With the forces pouring forward now from behind, and the tanks and artillery shells still raining fire down on the encampment, we begin our advance. Stepping out into the battlefield, I see the world lit up in fire and death. Against the night sky, the incessant light of gunfire flashes from all corners, giving shape to everything ahead. The camp, the advancing forces, the many already lying dead in pools of dark crimson.
Onward we push, moving quickly from cover to cover. In moments we've covered fifty metres and are able to get a better look at the holes blasted through the camp wall. Beyond, the Eden tents and shelters inside are ablaze, bombarded continuously from above by our artillery.
I shake my head in disbelief. It's a massacre, but not the sort I thought it would be. Their camp is being torn to pieces, ripped up by a force they didn't know existed. Along the wall, most of their defences have already been destroyed. Only a couple of large gun placements still remain, their focus mainly on the advancing tanks and not the artillery above doing all the damage.
We continue on, flooding forward with hundreds of others. Along the top of the encampment walls, and through the newly made openings, hundreds of others shoot back at us, painting the sky white as I search the Void and watch for incoming bullets. Few come near, our path forward blocked by cover as we go. Before long, we're only fifty metres short and preparing for the main assault.
Around us, other groups gather behind rocks, preparing to enter the fray, to storm the Eden camp. But they're waiting still, unable to advance until the bombardment from above ceases.
Drake pull
s out a small communicator from a jacket pocket, clicks a button, and speaks.
“Control, this is General Drayton. We are in position. Cease fire. Over.”
A hiss of static crackles down the line before the voice of General Sharpe sounds.
“We read you General Drayton. We're going to lay down one final blast on the openings to clear your path. Then you're free to engage. Acknowledge. Over.”
“Copy that, General Sharpe. Fire away. Over.”
“Copy. Hold cover. Volley incoming.”
Drake clicks the communicator off and slips it back into his pocket. His keen eyes search ahead. A few moments pass with nothing happening. And then, suddenly, the world once more erupts with a heavy boom as all tanks and artillery fire at once.
We wait. Gunfire continues to crack. Eden soldiers hiding at the openings continue their assault. I watch from around our latest cover of rock, listening for the coming whistle.
Then, slowly, building in the air, it comes. The whistling sound of artillery shells dropping from above. It starts faint, then grows louder, and in the distance I hear the cries of the Eden soldiers to take cover. It's too late. The shells hit, blasting the openings and creating a wider gap. Bodies are blanketed in flame, torn apart by the blast. The remaining wall gets a new coating of blood.
“That's it!” cries Drake loudly. “Let's go!”
He stands up tall and charges from behind the rock, and with him comes a roar from all around as hundreds of soldiers do the same. I follow, with the others behind, running as fast as my legs will allows, as a brief lull descends.
And then, the guns start blasting once more.
Trails of white appear from everywhere. All along the wall they come. Our own soldiers and those of the other rebel force drop to the ground, cut down as they run or jumping behind whatever limited cover they can find. I see carnage from all sides but don't stop, running as fast as possible to stay with Drake. Together we dodge and duck under bullet trails, reaching the blazing opening in only seconds.
We hop through the fire and into the encampment. From the ground is seems bigger than it did above, stretched away into the distance, well organised with tents and more sturdy shelters erected for sleeping, eating, washing, and so on. But I have no time to study it.
Much of it is on fire, plumes of black smoke hurtling into the sky. Others are untouched, still used as cover by the soldiers inside them, caught sleeping as our forces came to attack. I turn and see Athena follow through the opening. Then, just behind, comes Link, followed closely by Ellie.
Our guns raised to our shoulders now, we quickly move off to the right to find cover behind one of the more sturdy structures. Beyond, I spy Eden soldiers still emerging from their accommodations, dressed in battle gear and fully armed. Through the opening, more of our forces come flooding, those untouched by the soldiers atop the walls and stationed in sniping positions.
A hand grabs me. I turn and see Athena gesturing for me to advance through the camp. Her eyes are eager to take her first kill, her finger restless on the trigger of her rifle. I stand my ground and wait for Drake's order as he assesses the situation. Athena doesn't.
As another Eden soldier emerges ahead of us, rushing from a tent nearby, Athena pounces. Her weapon, at the ready against her shoulder, quickly sends a slug into the man's back as she runs out from cover. He drops to the ground instantly, dead.
Out in the open, bullets rush at her. She ducks and weaves and begins advancing. More bullets burst from the barrel of her gun. More men drop as she lives up to her name.
Drake calls for her to fall back. She doesn't listen, relishing the chance to finally get revenge. We have no choice. We step out together and join her. Within moments she's taken her first dozen lives.
“Stay here,” I shout at Ellie. “Cover us from behind.”
She nods as we move off. Link seems reluctant to leave her but does so at her insistence. Leaving Ellie safely at the front of the camp behind cover, the rest of us begin moving forward to join Athena.
The camp is fairly quiet where we are. The tents and other structures, positioned in a grid structure, are set out like city blocks. We advance block by block, tent by tent, searching each for more soldiers. Each time, Athena relishes the chance to step in and fire upon any stragglers left behind.
I hang back, still yet to fire a shot, still yet to kill. As we pass more bodies, I look at their faces; many of them are young, like me or Link or Ellie. Recent school leavers, sent to the wall for their training. Any one of them could have been Jackson.
Soon, we reach an open square within the camp. There's no movement that I can see, no blazing tents and shelters, the bombardment sent down by our forces not having reached this far back. We step forward carefully in the darkness and, suddenly, are greeted with a hail of gunfire.
It comes from various sides, men stationed secretly behind cover ahead and to the left and right. Trails of bullets fill the air, weaved together like dense spider webs, a net of death impossible to avoid. We all duck and weave and drop to the ground, firing as we go.
Desperation forces my hand. My fingers jams down on the trigger. Bullets fly from the tip of my gun. I see a body fall ahead, blood splattering against the side of a tent.
My first kill.
I feel a hand grab me and begin dragging me away. A flash of memory pours into my mind, of Jackson dragging me into the hanger on Eden, of Theo taking the two bullets meant for him.
I look up, and this time see Drake pulling me back. To his left and right, Athena and Link fire endlessly. Bodies ahead fall or escape, retreating to their hiding places. Drake pulls me up to my feet as the barrage of enemy fire ceases.
A sudden quiet grips the square. In the distance across the camp, the sounds of war remains, but not here. Only the moaning of victims as they die, of blood gargling in throats, of whimpering cries of pain.
Together we watch the shadows ahead. The blackness of night is heavy here, the moon overhead being gradually covered by a blanket of cloud. Only the flickering flames of burning tents offers much light from the camp behind us.
Then, Link whispers in the quiet: “they're coming,” he says, his voice tense. “Watchers are coming.”
I see Drake's eyes narrow in the darkness, staring forward. Athena's remain like a cat's, hunting prey. Mine stay for a moment on Link as he looks ahead, before following his line of sight across the open square beyond.
Silence falls. No one moves.
Then, from the shroud, three figures appear, like ghosts from the shadows. They walk across the camp, their shapes only visible as silhouettes. Two stand taller, flanking a third in the middle. The outlines of their bodies make it clear; two men, one woman. All three of them Watchers.
Still staring forward, I whisper to Link: “do you recognise them?”
His eyes sharpen as he looks ahead.
“Yes,” he says. “They're the Manson triplets.”
“Are they...powerful?” asks Athena, an excitement strangling her voice.
Link merely nods.
“Advance as one,” comes Drake's voice. “I'll take the guy on the left. Link, take the guy on the right. Girls, take out the middle one.”
Athena looks at me with a devilish grin.
“With pleasure,” she says.
Time stands still for the briefest of moments. Once more I search our quarry, seeking details as they stroll confidently forward. An explosion sounds across the camp near the entrance, lighting up the sky with a cloud of fire. The square ahead fills with a sultry orange, illuminating the three advancing figures.
All wear black from neck to toe, tightly fitted to their bodies. Their faces are ashen grey, sharply featured. The men on either side look identical, keen slanting eyes staring directly at us, jaws so tightly clamped shut you'd need a vise to open them. In the middle, the third triplet shares her brothers' cold stare and sharp nose, her jaw more rounded, less square, but not by much.
At first sight, they look formi
dable. But it's the confidence of their gait that's most unsettling, as if they've done this a thousand times before.
Soon, they're entering the centre of the square, their weapons held to their sides , as if beckoning for us to join them. Ours point back, directly at them, but no one acts, no one makes the first move. Eventually, the stand off reaches boiling point. It's Athena who cracks first.
Her finger pulls hard on her trigger. Her gun begins shouting its song, sending a spray of bullets right at the woman in the middle. She moves left and right with grace and ease, having no trouble at all avoiding the path's of the bullets. It was never going to be that easy.
“Hold fire,” says Drake. “We're going to have to do this by hand.”
He drops his main weapon, but keeps his sidearm. We all follow suit. Then, the Manson triplets do the same. Guns fall to their dirt with quiet thumps as the beat of battle continues across the camp.
We begin walking forward towards them as one, side by side. Link stands to the right, Drake to the left. Athena and I march in the middle, directly at the Manson girl ahead. As we near, she speaks.
“Well, if it isn't Ajax's little lapdog,” she says to Link, her voice high pitched and cruel. “How does it feel to be a traitor?”
Link doesn't answer. His eyes smoulder.
The girl's eyes circle us.
“The famous Cyra Drayton,” she says, goading me now. “It's such a pleasure to meet you.”
Her two brothers laugh like hyenas either side of her.
“And who's this?” Her eyes turn on Athena. “We don't know you. Who are you, girl?”
I can see Athena's breath rising, her chest pressing out faster. That familiar death stare of hers rises to the surface, her visage so cold you'd freeze just looking at her.
“Oh, not a friendly one are we. I assume you have some powers, though. Otherwise you wouldn't be here.”
Once more, the Manson girl's eyes scan us all.
“Hmmmm, four against three. How do like those odds boys?”
Her brothers grunt this time, eyes turning more manic. Clearly, she's the spokesperson of this trio.
