The Southern Watch

Sargent Baxley inspected his weapon as he watched Private Morales, a young recruit relatively fresh out of training, pace the catwalk. Watch duty on the southern towers was monotonous to say the least, except for the occasional scavenger who has made their way too far south of the city, or the runners who stray too close to the towers, not a whole lot ever really happened. He never fully understood why they spent so much time and resources on stopping those coming from the city, the scavengers he could kind of understand they ran contraband through the city, however the runners just wanted to seek a new life away from the city. Not that there was much out there for them, the wastelands were a brutal place even at the best of times.

Baxley had served with the NWR since before the end of the great war and had seen the horrors the waste had to offer. He knew the real threat would come from the south, but it had been a long time since anyone had made their way this far north. Not that everyone who came from the south was a threat, some were just people looking to try for the safety of the city, but the city stopped taking people in over a decade ago. The turrets mounted on each of the towers also played their part in discouraging anyone from making the attempt at crossing over into NWR territory. Overall watch duty on the towers had become one of the most uneventful details one could be assigned.

It wasn’t always this way, it used to be the worst assignment a soldier could get. Before the war ended there were constant skirmishes fought at the towers, and even after the war ended it had its fair share of danger. The NWR had whole squads stationed at each tower, where reinforcements were needed regularly but through the years the danger had dwindled as did the number of soldiers stationed at each tower. Now each only had four soldiers posted at each tower alternating twelve-hour shifts, Private Winslow and Private Lain were asleep downstairs. The soldiers at each tower were relieved of duty every six months, at which point they would return to the city watch or shipped out on missions outside the city borders. This wasn’t common however, most missions outside the city were taken on by the Elite ranked soldiers, soldiers trained from birth to reach near superhuman capabilities who worked primarily alone. Every so often though they would be sent with a platoon to complete more complicated objectives, though the platoon was often sent more as a distraction to allow the Elites to complete their task.

“Sarge, I think we got something” Private Morales shouted, rousing Baxley from his thoughts.

Baxley saw Morales looking out towards the North which led him to suspect that it probably wasn’t anything serious. He joined him on the catwalk, pulling out his binoculars as he did so, a quick look confirmed his suspicions. A small group of five people nearly a mile north, were making their way south about fifty yards east of the tower, most likely runners from the look of them. The group consisted of three men, a woman, and a small child, they seemed oblivious to the soldiers watching them.

“Should I wake the others Sir?” Morales asked, the look in his eyes told Baxley this was his first encounter with anyone out on the towers.

“No need Private, it’s a small group of runners, nothing to worry about.” Baxley responded as he lowered his binoculars.

“What should we do then Sir? Should I man the turrets?” Morales asked nervously.

Baxley couldn’t help but laugh, “For what Private, a couple civilians walking through the rubble? Although that little one does look suspicious. No, we’ll walk out and round them up, bring them back in for processing and radio into the city for retrieval.” He wished to himself that Morales hadn’t seen them, or that they had been further out so they could just radio in the sighting, he never enjoyed sending runners back to the city. He knew far too well what happened to them. “Follow me Private.”

A few moments later they had descended the tower and were covertly making their way east across the rubble. Once Baxley felt like they were in the groups path he silently signaled for Morales to take cover behind the remains of a concrete wall as he did so himself, and then they waited. It didn’t take long before he could hear voices in the distance, but he couldn’t yet make out what they were saying. He looked to Morales, who had sweat pouring down his face despite it being a chilly day and trembled so much Baxley worried he would give away their position. For a moment he saw a flash of red out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned, he saw nothing. He assumed it was nothing more than his eyes playing tricks on him as the voices grew loud enough to be audible.

“I still think we should of gone further east” a man’s voice stated. “Just because we don’t see anyone up there doesn’t mean they aren’t there”

“Well, it’s too late for that now” responded the woman.

“Won’t both of you be quiet? We’re nearly past.” another of the men told the two who were talking.

The group fell silent, as Baxley poked his head ever so slightly around the wall to try to catch a glimpse of the group. They were no more than twenty yards away as he signaled to Morales to prepare to make their move. Seconds later he could hear their footsteps as they made their way within a few yards of the two soldiers, he raised his weapon as he jumped to his feet, Morales followed his lead. “Stop right there” he commanded.

The woman screamed as the group froze in their tracks, quickly raising their hands in the air. Baxley could see the terror on their faces as he made his way from around the wall. The child, a young girl no older than ten, began crying and ran to hide behind one of the three men, her father no doubt. The tears cut their way through her dirt smeared face like a river cutting its way through the land, a heart shaped silver locket hung from her neck and again he wished that they had gone unnoticed or had been farther east so he could of just let them past. Had he been alone he may of even let them go.

“Now, everyone drop your bags to the ground, and my partner here is going to check everyone for weapons. If you cooperate no one will be hurt.” he told the group, as he signaled for Morales to move forward.

“You might as well just kill us now!” The man with the child spat at him. “You know damn well what’s going to happen to us if you send us back.”

“That’ll be up to your district council” he lied, the councils had never pardoned any runners that were sent back to the city. He didn’t understand it, didn’t agree with it, but orders were orders.

They stood in silence as Morales began to pat them down, but before even making it past the second man the silence was broken by a whistle from the south. Baxley quickly turned around and saw figures dressed in red robes popping up from behind rubble no more than fifty yards to the south. He fought back panic as realization of who they were began to set it in. He turned back to yell for them to run for the tower, before he could finish the sentence though he heard a gunshot ring out, and the back of Morales’s head exploded as he fell to the ground. The child screamed as her father lifted her from the ground, the group began to run for the tower as gunfire sounded, and bullets whizzed past them.

Baxley did his best to lay down covering fire as they retreated to the tower, hitting a few of his targets as they pursued them. He turned to look as he heard a voice shout out from the tower, the gunfire had awakened the two soldiers he had left to rest. One of them ran for the turret as the other began to fire on their attackers. For a moment he felt saved, but before the soldier could reach the turret he heard a familiar blast, followed by the sight of a rocket trail flying towards the tower. He felt as if all hope was lost as the rocket hit the tower, raining down debris around them. He yelled for everyone to take cover as he dove behind a pile of shattered concrete and began firing at the red robed figures.

He briefly looked back at the group cowering behind whatever they could when he went to load his last clip into his rifle, he noticed one of the men had been shot and was bleeding out on the ground beside him. After reloading he began firing on their attackers again, they were no more than twenty yards away at this point and were beginning to spread out, surrounding the group. He managed to drop three of them before his rifle ran out of ammo. He pulled his side arm and began to take aim when he felt something pull him to the ground and pain surged through his right arm. He felt the warmth of his blood running from the bullet wound in his shoulder as he saw the figures closing in on them. His pistol was kicked away by one of the attackers as a man in an ornately decorated red robe stepped forward.

“Blessed be this day” the man exclaimed as he looked over the group. “Thank you, lord, for this bounty you have bestowed upon us. We came to raid this tower for provisions brothers, and the lord saw fit to bless us with so much more.” His gaze shifted between the woman and child, Baxley knew they would be taken, he just hoped they would leave the men alive.

“Go to hell!” Baxley shouted at the man. The man picked up Baxley’s pistol from the ground and without a word shot him in the stomach.

“Take them” the man said motioning towards the woman and child. Their attackers acted quickly, grabbing the little girl from her father and the woman from the ground. Baxley saw the girl's father desperately trying to keep hold of her but was quickly hit in the back of the head with a makeshift club. He fell to the ground, the locket around the girls neck breaking free in his hand as he did. The other man tried to reach for the woman, fighting his way to his feet, but the leader ended his attempt with one shot to the head. “Enough” he shouted, “Let us return home with these blessings of our Lord” and with that the men returned from where they came dragging the woman and child with them. As Baxley lay bleeding out on the ground, he heard movement from behind, turning his head he saw the girl's father crawling towards him.

“Where are they taking her?” he pleaded, the desperation showing in his eyes.

“Southeast, Toledo” Baxley tasted blood as he spoke, he knew he was dying. “The Brotherhood of Eternal Life, blood cult, Our Lady Hope.” He wanted to say more as the world around him faded away, he wanted to wish the man good luck, tell him he hopes he gets his little girl back. None of these words made it to his lips though, and for Baxley the world faded to black.