by T. C. Edge
He opens the door carefully, and sneaks his head out to take a look. Then he turns back to us, nods, and walks out. We're into another corridor, sturdily built from stone and metal. Lights pepper the interior, fixed to the walls, with doors built occasionally into its surface. We rush along to the left, guns to our shoulders, until Drake suddenly stops and turns.
In a split second, I see it too: the lift door opening, men pouring out, fully armed and armoured. We all raise our weapons and wait for them to arrive. Then, suddenly, the lift pings and the dozen men we'd been expecting arrive.
They take a moment to see us, some of them looking left, some looking right as they step out into the corridor. Immediately, our silenced weapons start to pulse, firing bullets into their midst. Their armour, however, appears stronger than what we've so far encountered, the bullets ricocheting off their chest plates and helmets and cracking into the walls.
They fire back, taking positions behind any cover they can find. The corridor fills with the white trails of their rounds, obscuring my view as I try to aim and fire at the weak points in their armour. We begin to back away as the dozen automatic rifles spray the narrow corridor, making avoiding their rounds harder and harder.
We fire back frantically, managing to drop a couple, as we continue to retreat. Above, the booming roars of the artillery guns continues to fire, still trying their best to reach our forces lying just out of reach.
Things grow more desperate as the space in the corridor reduces further. I find myself constantly changing my position as I retreat, struggling to avoid the onrushing bullets. Drake and Athena seem to be having an equal amount of trouble, their focus more on escaping the hit rather than inflicting any further damage and firing back.
I see the trail of a bullet seeking a path towards Athena's neck. She hasn't seen it yet, still moving away from another. I reach out and grab her, pulling her towards me as the round fills in its white precursor, zipping forward and clanging against a metal support in the rock wall. She drops to the ground as I raise my weapon back up to fire.
Then, as I stare forward and look into the Void, a large white cloud engulfs the hallway. It starts at the feet of the men, bursting into a blaze, and then spreading out down the corridor. It's a ball of fire, about to burst forth from an incendiary grenade...in only seconds the entire corridor will be filled with flame.
I look down and see the culprit. On her knees, Athena pulls the grenade from her belt, clicks a button to arm it, and sends it rolling along the floor towards the feet of the men.
“No!” I shout, but I know it's too late. I've already seen it happen.
I turn back and see a door.
“This way!” I shout, as Drake pulls Athena to her feet.
Behind me, roars of terror fill the air, replaced quickly by those of pain as the grenade explodes. A thick blanket of death swamps the men, spreading out towards us.
I reach the door and grab the handle, pulling down.
“It's locked!”
The flame gathers pace, galloping towards us. Behind me, Drake catches up with Athena by his side. I step back, launch my foot at the door, and kick as hard as I can. It doesn't budge.
I'm shoved aside.
“Move!” calls Drake.
He does the same, smashing a heavy boot at the door. It bucks and splinters, but holds firm. He kicks again, and suddenly it bursts open as he falls inside. I grab Athena and we dive in. Drake rises quickly to his feet, grabs the door, and slams it shut just as the flames rush past.
Through the splintered gaps, a forked tongue of fire licks its way inside, setting alight Drake's clothing. The flames rise quickly up his legs as he backs away, falling to the ground. I jump towards him as he rolls on the floor, trying to smother the blaze, patting hard with my gloved hands to help.
Together, we manage to halt the spread just in time. The grimace in my father's eyes, however, tells me he hasn't gotten away unscathed.
I stand up, fuming, and turn to Athena.
“What the hell was that, Athena! You could have gotten us all killed! Never use an incendiary grenade like that in a confined space!”
Her head is low, guilt in her eyes as she looks at Drake's burnt leg.
“I'm sorry...”
“Sorry isn't good enough!” I shout. “You've got to use your head!”
Behind me, Drake limps to his feet. I feel his hand on my shoulder to calm me.
“She only did what she thought was right,” he says, a pain in his voice. “We might have been killed anyway. She saved us.”
I shake my head.
“No. I saved us,” I say, correcting him. “If I hadn't seen into the Void, seen that fire coming, we'd all be dead.”
Athena stays quiet, her gaze at her feet.
“What's done is done,” says Drake calmly. “We're all OK, but for a little burn. Nothing major, Cyra.”
I take a deep breath and step forward. Athena's eyes lift to mine.
“I panicked,” she says. “We never trained with grenades. I didn't know the flame would go that far.”
“It's...it's OK. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm sorry.”
Drake steps back in.
“OK, enough apologies. We have work to do. Look around you.”
For the first time, I inspect the interior of the room, and see panels filled with buttons and dials and other controls. In the middle is a screen with a video image of the gate, firmly shut and locked in place.
“Looks like we stumbled into the right place,” says Drake. “Now, let's get this damn thing open.”
And at that very moment, the loud booming of the artillery guns comes to a sudden stop. We stand still for a moment, in silence, and listen. Then, suddenly, the voice of Jackson crackles through the communicators in our helmets.
“Sir, can you hear me?”
His voice sends a shiver of relief up my spine. I shut my eyes and take a deep breath, and along with it say a silent prayer of thanks to the fates.
“Loud and clear, Jackson.”
“Sir, we've just disabled the main guns. How are you getting along? Is Cyra OK?”
Drake sees me smile as he answers.
“She's fine. We're in the control room for the gate now. We took some heavy fire.”
“Yes sir, same here. We're going to hold this area for now. We're expecting more company.”
“Yes, stay alert. I'll tell General Richter to begin his advance. Hold the fort, Captain.”
“Copy that, sir. Over and out.”
Drake pulls the communication device from his pocket once more, and sets about updating General Richter on the current state of play. And as the General acknowledges the update, the sound of a loud engine starting filters down the radio. And soon after, a dozen or so more.
The convoy is coming...
23 - The People Come
Through the video feed in the control room, we watch with glee as the convoy rumbles through the gate and into the mainland. They find that they face little resistance as they go, the remaining soldiers manning the wall realising that, without their artillery guns, they have little hope of slowing down, let alone stopping, our forces.
For the last twenty minutes, since issuing the instruction for the convoy to advance, the Eden soldiers have made several attempts to take back the two control rooms, primarily the one occupied and defended by Jackson, Troy, and Link. Their attempts have proven futile. By now, those who haven't been killed or captured will have fled the scene entirely.
As soon as the convoy is through the gate, we leave the control room and descend down to the base to find General Richter and General Sharpe climbing from their mobile command unit. Around then, hundreds of soldiers pour forth from the APC's and other transports, flooding into the base to secure it under orders from their Lieutenants.
We greet the Generals with wide smiles and firm handshakes.
“Good job, General Drayton. A very good job indeed,” says General Richter.
The others app
ear from above, leading down a small contingent of prisoners who they managed to disable rather than kill. A few, it transpires, simply dropped their weapons and flung their hands in the air as soon as they saw Link. Clearly, his abilities have been well documented among the military forces of Eden.
With the wall and military base taken, and with our own men now manning the stations, the artillery guns and anti aircraft weapons are once again activated. Now, however, they are turned to face the opposite direction, giving us long range protection from any force that might attempt to retake the base.
With a thousand experienced soldiers now in place, our thoughts turn to consolidating the defences and bringing the prisoners from the concentration camp over to be housed and protected. Troy takes the lead, calling for Markus and Ellie to load up the jeeps and trucks and bring the people to the base.
Soon, a military camp once populated by perhaps a hundred Eden soldiers is manned by over a thousand of our own, along with the additional few hundred willing to fight for our cause. And unlike the army we gathered in Petram, which was willing but hugely inexperienced, here I look upon a truly professional operation.
The evening passes by in a rush of activity. The base is well capable of housing several hundred people, most bunks being given to the half starved and weakened people of Agricola. Our soldiers, however, have come prepared, and quickly set about extending the camp by setting up short term tents and shelters for their own use.
Soon, the camp has seemingly doubled outside its wall, the lights of fires popping up across the field of tents as the cold of the night launches into full swing. With so much adrenaline pumping through my veins, I feel I won't get a wink of sleep tonight.
Drake, stoic as always, continues to do his duty until he's advised to get his leg seen to. Thankfully, the base contains a small medical unit with plentiful supplies. After the generous application of some magical ointment, and a little bit of bandaging, he's once more on his feet and barking orders left, right, and centre.
Together with the other Generals, the camp is quickly put into order. Troy, Markus, and Jackson spend some time visiting their troops, while Ellie, Athena, and myself find a quiet spot up on the ridge to watch the place take shape.
We talk for a while, Ellie digging for details on how the raid went. Athena offers a slightly guilty explanation of our battle in the corridor, to which I once more apologise for my outburst.
“All's well that end's well,” is Ellie's pithy summation having heard her tale.
I don't quite know when I fall asleep, but when I wake the light of the day has already risen and the camp is revealed in greater clarity. Beside me, both Ellie and Athena stir as I stare down into the camp, which has morphed even more in my time spent unconscious.
“Wow,” says Athena, looking at the vast assembly.
I silently echo the statement, before we rise as a three and go and rejoin the others.
Apparently, our absence has gone largely unnoticed, everyone busy as they've been. When we run into Drake he tells us that a council meeting is being held shortly to debrief on the events of the last couple of days. We gather in a control room in a central building in the base, all neatly fashioned and simply decorated; very much a far cry from the rocky world of Petram I'd come to know so well.
Drinking coffee to stay awake – it's obvious that most of them haven't slept – the state of play is quickly considered. Link, we quickly discover, has spent much of the night questioning any prisoners we've taken, including those knocked out by Ajax. The thinking behind that was Link's well known reputation among Eden soldiers as a fairly fearsome opponent. With a dark countenance and an ability to look at people with soulless eyes, he's been well deployed trying to dig for information.
Jackson, too, has been busy in a similar role. They both briefly report on the state of the enemy forces across the wall and mainland and, by way of Ajax's soldiers from Eden, on the capital city itself.
“They're spread pretty far and wide, as far as we can figure,” reports Jackson. “After taking out their army outside Petram they haven't had a chance to gather a new one. I don't think they saw all of this coming.”
For once, I get the feeling that that might just be the case. That not even Chancellor Knight has had the foresight to know quite what we'd be doing. As Troy told me, he might not be as powerful as he made me think he was. Maybe, just maybe, we've put him right on the back foot.
Link, for his part, stays a little more silent and sullen during the report, letting Jackson do most of the talking. He looks tired, worn out, and in need of a good refreshing sleep. The same could probably be said for most of us, but Link in particular seems a little distracted.
“Any idea of numbers?” asks General Richter eagerly.
Jackson shakes his head.
“It's too hard to say, General. But I'm sure we're looking at many thousands spread through the regions, perhaps ten thousand or more. And that's just soldiers. If you include Custodians then the number will be hugely inflated. But again, they're widely dispersed in every town and settlement to contain any civil unrest.”
“And how about our own reserve forces, General?” asks Drake.
“They're currently moving this way on foot. We will be sending the convoy back out, along with the trucks you have taken, in order to transport them here more quickly. Our numbers are over five thousand. It will take several trips to bring them here over the next week or so.”
Numbers continue to be bandied around, frying my brain a little. Back in Arbor, life was so small, measured in basic things and basic numbers. Now, we're talking thousands and tens of thousands, two armies rising up against each other. It all hardly seems real, despite everything I've been through.
I'm not expected to say much during the meeting. Drake, as our leader, takes the reins in explaining, step by step, what we've been doing over the last couple of days. Of the many discussion points, the fate of the Agricola refugees is an important one, with General Sharpe suggesting that it might be best to send them back to Petram where they'd be safe.
Frankly, I think it's more a case of getting rid of them so they're not in the way. From his point of view at least. From mine, the option of making sure my brother and sister are safely in the mountain fortress is a comforting one. However, a quick debate enlightens us all to the fact that most of them have already said they want to fight. That this is their war now, as well as ours, and that every man and woman we can recruit will be one more gun for our cause.
I'm grateful when the meeting ends without any mention of Ajax's name. Right now, I'm the only one who's spoken to him and I know the Generals will only doubt his sudden turnabout and betrayal of Knight. Until I hear from him, there's little point in bringing him into the discussion.
The day passes by as speedily as the last, much of it from my part spent with my brother and sister and the people from Agricola. I take a walk with Amy outside of the base, that familiar smile of hers beginning to return in full force. She looks around in quiet amazement at the army we've raised as we wander through the gate and into the Deadlands.
“I never thought I'd find myself here,” she says, staring out at the endless abyss. “How did you cope out there for so long?”
“Oh, it wasn't so bad,” I say. “There's so much more life out there than people realise. One day, hopefully, you'll see Petram and the mountains in the west. I've never seen anything quite so beautiful.”
We wander on, careful not to go too far, as Amy seeks information on the many adventures I've had. Enumerating them all makes me realise just how hectic my life has been over the last year; going to Eden, training as a Watcher, escaping to the Deadlands and joining the rebels. Finding my father again, breaking Stein out of Tartaturs, returning to Eden to assassinate Knight. And only in the last week or so; the battle in the valley, the liberation of the concentration camp, and now the taking of the wall.
As I speak, I find that Amy nods knowingly at a lot that I say. It's clear that s
he already knows much of what I've been up to.
“Stories have been spread about you, Cyra. Legends. They're calling you the Golden Girl, on account of your skin and hair.”
“The Golden Girl...” I mumble, my nose crinkling with slight embarrassment.
“It suits you I think,” she says, reaching out and taking a tuft of my hair between her fingers. “Eden tried to discredit you but I knew they were lying. So did everyone from Arbor and Agricola. The other regions are waking up to it too.”
“Why were you taken?” I ask her. “To the camp...”
I remember the last time I saw her, she was stepping off the hoverbus to start life as a teacher in Oakmont, a town nearby to Arbor where we grew up together.
Her eyes grow a little more haunted as she recollects her story.
“I spoke up for you against some Custodians,” she says. “They gathered everyone together in the town square in Oakmont. I think they were doing it everywhere, to let everyone know that you were a traitor and had joined the rebels. The things they said about you, Cyra...I just had to say something.”
I give her a hug.
“You shouldn't have,” I say. “But thank you, for standing up for me.”
“I'd do it any time,” she says defiantly. “You're my friend, and you're a good person. People needed to hear the truth.”
We return to the camp, and Amy once more disappears into the newly appointed refugee accommodations. Everything is being tightly monitored right now, all of the refugees on a tight leash. Already, names have been compiled and numbers given, with anyone leaving the camp required to sign in and out. Given my status, I was allowed to take a walk with Amy beyond the boundary of the camp. I'm not sure others would be provided such a privilege.
Myself, Ellie, and Athena are granted our own accommodation, with the men stationed elsewhere. By the time evening dawns, the three of us quickly find ourselves seeking our beds, ones that are far more comfortable than anything I've slept in since living in Eden. I drop off quickly, and wake with familiar visions of murder on my mind. When I look at Ellie and Athena, I realise that they've seen the same.
