War at the Wall (The Watchers Trilogy, Book Three)
Page 28
The same is true of everything else. Some will do better work than others. Some will have little choice but to work in mines, or toil the fields, or spend each day in the stifling factories. Others will do work they enjoy, work that gives them fulfilment, work that truly makes a difference.
That is life's lottery, but the difference now, is that people have some control. They can work towards something better, no longer destined to occupy one job forever. No longer forced to live and start a family with someone designated to them. There's a long way to go, and many speed bumps will be hit, and have been hit, but progress is being made.
I am just like anyone else. I get no special treatment, and would take none for myself.
Here, in this quiet little valley, I live the simple life I always wanted, growing food, raising animals with my husband. Here, within these wooded hills, someone who once hailed from this part of the world lives nearby; Ellie, with Link and their little son, Ajax.
We see them often, only a short walk through the woods as they are. We talk of our past adventures now without the spectre of pain looming over us. Still, occasionally, we have bad dreams, but the visions that once plagued us have largely faded, peaceful as the world has become.
Not everyone is here, though. Drake has taken up residence on Eden, along with Stein and Leeta, all three working hard to see the country flourish. General Richter, I know, now lives in a military base by the wall, although I doubt he'll be there for long; from what I've been told, the wall itself is set to be dismantled in the coming months, a task that will take years to complete.
General Sharpe, unfortunately, passed away, his heart giving out after so much stress. He was the final major casualty of the war, his body driven to its tipping point. He didn't last much longer.
Athena and Markus and Troy, meanwhile, having lived their entire lives in the Deadlands, have returned to Petram and the western coast, where many people have chosen to remain.
I see some of them from time to time, although not as much as I'd like. With so much needing to be done, many have chosen higher offices to be fulfilled, duties that take up most of their time.
But not me. It's the simple life I desire. And now, in this new world, that's a choice I can make for myself.
I lie on the shore, as the afternoon slowly passes by, tucked up in Jackson's arms as the sun dips below the trees. We call out the names of the insects and birds as we used to, trying to find shapes in the clouds as they pass over the canopy of leaves above. Eventually, the afternoon draws on, bringing the changing of the colours of the sky, blue turning to yellow and orange and red, the colours of the desert I know so well and, at times, miss.
As the light fades, we stand and clear our things, walking back through the trees towards our little home. We step inside the wooden shack, and Jackson's large hand rubs along my swollen stomach.
We both look at the wall ahead, and a face looks back.
“Do you know what you want to call it,” asks Jackson, “if it's a boy?”
I smile, still looking at the small, creased picture pinned up on the wooden wall.
“Theo,” I say. “Let's call him Theo...”
THE END
What's Next?
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T C Edge