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

  I listen, but I hardly speak. In my mind, there will be no other mission. Anything would be fruitless, pointless, just another march towards death.

  I don't tell her that, though. Don't quell her own exuberance. Perhaps it's just what we need around here. Some light in the growing darkness.

  My father once more disappears into his duties. His resolve remains strong, that defiance I've come to expect from him still present. But still, when I see him, his eyes show the truth, as they do with so many others. They show me that even he is starting to lose faith.

  During that first week back, I feel like I'm walking through syrup. I feel heavy, laden down by misery and failure, by the incessant negativity floating around inside my head. I spend a lot of time alone, hiding away in my room, given space by others to move through my own emotions, get a grip on reality once more.

  In the days following Theo's funeral, Ellie and Jackson return to their duties. They start training new recruits once again, joining Athena down in our training cave in the depths of the mountain. Day by day, she leaves early in the morning and returns late at night. I wonder where she spends her free time. Eventually, after several days spent apart, she tells me.

  “I've been given permission to visit Link,” she says. “They still don't trust him, but they think I can help integrate him into our cause.”

  “Our cause...” I say. “What cause?”

  I see her head shaking ever so slightly. I see disappointment in her green eyes.

  “Don't give up, Cyra. Not yet. We need you.”

  “Need me?” I ask. “All I've done is screw things up. People shouldn't put such faith in me.”

  “Well, I believe in you, and I still believe in what we're doing here. As soon as I stop believing, we're as good as dead.”

  Ellie, innocent and ignorant as always...

  “So, how is he?” I ask.

  “Still conflicted,” she says. “I think he feels a little lost.”

  “Don't we all,” I mumble.

  “You should come see him. Perhaps you can help.”

  “Help? How?”

  “Help him to see that what we're doing here is right. That he made the right decision to come with us.”

  “Do you really think that?”

  “Of course.”

  “All he's done, Ellie, is come here to die. Nothing more.”

  She frowns at me.

  “Don't speak like that,” she says firmly. “You can't give up. You're being weak, Cyra.”

  “Weak? No, just realistic.”

  She shakes her head more forcefully this time, lets out a deep breath, and turns to walk out of the room. I sink back down, stewing in my own cynicism, and let my negative thoughts consume me once again.

  I hardly sleep at night.

  When I do those scattered images still remain, blurred and indistinct. They're hard to make out, and I don't try to search them for clues. I no longer care to see what might be happening elsewhere in the world. Nothing seems to matter at all any more.

  One thing does remain clear in my mind though. Nothing but a face. A smile. Deep, evil eyes.

  Knight.

  I see him every time I close my eyes. His face haunts my waking thoughts, comes to me when I eventually drift off to sleep each night. It's as if that image of him is locked inside my brain, plastered to the front of my mind at all times. The sight of him smirking as I stand on the stage, preparing to execute one of my friends. I can't seem to get it out of my head.

  In my solitude, I think long and hard about running away. Leave all of this pain behind, get as far away as possible. Find a simple, quiet corner of the world where I can live free.

  Several days after Theo's funeral, Jackson comes to me. It's the first time I've seen him since. He comes straight in and, without talking, draws me into a hug.

  “Run away with me,” are the first words that drift from my mouth. They come as a whisper over his shoulder. He pulls back from the embrace and stares at me.

  “Run away with me,” I repeat. “There's no hope here, not any more. We can leave together, tonight...”

  His hand comes to my face and wipes across my cheek. I didn't even know I was crying.

  “And what about Ellie, your father?”

  “They can come too,” I say.

  “Ellie would never leave Link.”

  “Then he can come...”

  “He's in isolation, Cyra.”

  “We'll break him out.”

  “They'd never leave. None of them will leave these people.”

  “And you? Would you leave...for me?”

  A small smile creeps up in the corner of his mouth.

  “I'd do anything for you,” he says. “You know that.”

  “But you won't do this,” I answer, reading his eyes. “You won't leave these people either, will you Jack.”

  His hands cup my cheeks.

  “I know you better than anyone, Cyra,” he says. “And I know...neither will you.”

  He rises to his feet from the bed and reaches down to take my hand. I find my fingers linking with his. He pulls me up to my feet and begins walking me to the door.

  “Where...are we going?”

  “You need to leave this room,” he says. “Come with me.”

  His fingers hold mine tight. I feel my heart beating faster as he pulls me away from the little rock room that has become my sanctuary of grief. Down the passages we go, into the grand central chamber. I duck away from stares as I've learned to do with such efficiency, and continue to be led on.

  “Jack...I don't want to be out here,” I say.

  He doesn't answer. He draws me into the middle of the chamber. Around us, hundreds, thousands of people swarm. He stops and turns to me.

  “Look at them all, Cyra,” he says. “These people need you.”

  I hold my gaze on my toes. His fingers reach my chin and lift.

  “Look at them,” he says again.

  Tentatively, my eyes begin to look over the crowd. I see only a few looking back at me. Not like when I first came here, when my presence caused a stir wherever I went. Now, they share the same look of desolation in their eyes as I do.

  Strong men look bowed by fear. Women, caring for children, look lost and empty. The children themselves, so often happy and smiling even under the gravest of circumstances, have lost their innocence. Even they understand what's happening here, their intuition sensing the deep dread and fear that imbues all.

  Among them, a face I know appears. A girl who came to me, only weeks ago when I first arrived here. She ran up to me with excitement on her face and asked in wonder: “are you a Watcher?”

  Back then, hope was rife among the people. This girl epitomised that. She looked at me as if I was a hero, someone to fight for them, to save them. Now, as I stand there, her eyes find mine. We share a moment, and I see recognition on her face. And even amid all of this fear and hopelessness, her mouth curls into a smile as she looks at me.

  The embers still burn. A feeble hope remains.

  I continue to search the crowd. Among them, some still stand tall. Positive expressions litter the place here and there. People speak to others, trying to lift their spirits, make them see that not all is lost, that we can still survive and live free.

  Jackson is that person for me. His words reach my ears again.

  “These people need us to stay strong, Cyra. We need to show them that this isn't the end...”

  “But...”

  “Even if you don't believe it right now,” he says, cutting me off, placing his hands on my shoulders, “you must not show it. They need people to look up to. You are their champion, Cyra.”

  He takes my hand again, and we continue to walk through the crowd. Now, my head is raised. I hold my chin higher, hide the despair from my eyes, and stand tall. I have to try. For Jackson, for Ellie and all those I care about. For all the people here, I have to try.

  And for those departed. For Theo, I cannot give up.

  On
we go, down more passages, moving deeper along pathways I've trodden many times before. I hear the sound of activity up ahead, of instruction, of combat, of weapons being fired.

  I hold myself back as we reach the entrance to the large cave. Jackson looks back at me.

  “This is where you need to be, Cyra. They need you,” he says.

  Taking a deep breath, I allow myself to be drawn on. I step into the training cave, and am quickly greeted by several dozen sets of eyes. Ellie, standing ahead of a new batch of recruits, smiles as Jackson leads me in. Athena, off to one side with the trainee Watchers, nods at me with a clenched jaw.

  And gradually, from nowhere, hands begin to clap. Faces I know and those I don't look at me warmly, and the sound of applause fills the air.

  It's something I know I don't deserve. But maybe Jackson's right.

  Maybe it's not yet time to give up hope.

  3 - A Hope Rekindled

  I stand in the corner of the training room, watching things unfold. Ellie and Jackson, both with their own class of recruits, teach weapons handling and basic hand to hand close quarter combat. Athena, on the other side, offers what guidance she can to the new potential Watchers we've managed to discover, now numbering seven.

  I watch all three of them closely, and with each passing moment feel more ashamed of myself. A positivity exudes from them all, a willingness to fight, to not give up, to face up against impossible odds with a set jaw and steely determination.

  All qualities that I appear to have lost. Qualities that I am struggling to rediscover.

  I look at the recruits too. Every last one of them, volunteering to be here, still believing that they can make a difference. That learning to fire a gun or how to knock someone out will help to change their fate, the fate of all the people here.

  Still, I have trouble believing that. In my head, it matters not what any of these people learn, whether they become the finest marksmen or the most skilful and gifted fighters. When you're stuck here in a mountain, starving and trapped, no weapons or combat skills are going to make a difference.

  Because we all know, now, that the mountain pass below has been blocked.

  Rumours began to spread soon after we returned from Eden. Some of the new trainee Watchers, who I'd taught to search their visions, had seen broken images of a large force approaching. Settlements nearby to the foot of the mountains leading to Petram were seen to be raided. Days later, those visions came true.

  Now, scouts have confirmed the worst; that there is no way down from this place. A large force of Eden soldiers occupies the valleys below, preventing anyone from leaving the city. The only way out, it seems, is by air.

  The indications are precisely what everyone feared and expected, however. That this army will not attack, not make themselves vulnerable by trying to approach via the dangerous and narrow path up the mountain; a bottleneck that might just even the odds. From what I've gathered, the rebels have taken some measures to booby trap large stretches of road. A direct attack, Eden knows, would be folly.

  So they'll sit, and they'll wait. They know that our food stocks are low, that there is nowhere else for us to go. This place, as I always feared, will soon become a tomb.

  But still, as I look around me, I see courage and faith. I see faces of those brave enough to try, to stand up tall and not give in. Even when faced with certain death, these simple people with their simple lives are doing everything they can to survive.

  I can't say the same for myself.

  The day passes, and I hardly participate, aside from offering some words of guidance to Athena. She impresses me greatly, and I feel embarrassed by any internal comparison I make between her and myself. Only weeks ago, her entire family was killed in a raid. She came here, lost and alone, and has never wavered in her belief, in her desire to get stronger and exact revenge.

  I think of her, and I think of myself.

  You're pathetic, Cyra. You're weak. You're nothing...

  I castigate myself, feel my face curling into a grimace. And as I do, as I berate and insult myself, I hear Knight's voice saying the words, see his face in front of my eyes once more. The sight of it causes me to stir, to rise, and take a deep breath and plunge back in.

  I can't let him win. I won't...

  “Cyra...”

  Athena turns to me as my hand falls down on her shoulder. I smile at her with pride.

  “You're doing a wonderful job, Athena,” I say.

  She beams.

  “Really?”

  “Really. Now tell me, who are the two new Watchers you've found.”

  On the other side of the room, I sense a quiet dawning. Ellie and Jackson stop teaching and watch. I catch them looking, smiling, and glancing at each other. After a brief lull, they get back to work.

  For the rest of the afternoon, I return to my old ways. Athena introduces me to her two finds, one of whom, as she told me before, can see partially into the Void. A man in his late thirties, with a wiry shape and dark complexion, his abilities are limited and he's very much a work in progress.

  “Ray. My name's Ray,” he says when I ask him. “I've heard a lot about you, Cyra.”

  “All good I hope.”

  He nods and tips his head to Athena.

  “She really looks up to you,” he says. “We all do.”

  I feel buoyed by his words.

  “Thank you, Ray,” I say. “I hope I won't let you down.”

  By the time evening dawns, and the recruits disband to fetch their increasingly small rations, I feel twice as tall as I did only hours before. Jackson offers me a knowing smile, Ellie a wink. Both knew that getting me down here would cause something inside me to stir. That it would break me from my stupor in that little rock room, filled with misery and with no company but my memories.

  Together with Athena, we return to the central chamber to eat. Rationing has grown tighter now, people growing visibly slighter. It looks as though they're stretching things out as much as possible, only delaying the inevitable. I pose the question of why to the group.

  “They're planning something,” says Jackson.

  “How do you know?” asks Athena quickly, eagerly.

  “I don't know for sure. But they must be. They're hardly going to just let everyone slowly starve to death.”

  “So what then?”

  “I don't see that there's any choice,” says Jackson confidently. “They're going to attack the Eden army.”

  “Madness...” I mumble.

  Everyone turns to me.

  “What other choice is there?”

  I don't have the answer.

  “There isn't, that's the truth,” continues Jackson. “We're a cornered animal, and we're going to have to lash out sooner or later. The people know it. We've trained hundreds of new recruits, and more keep pouring through our doors. Do you know what I saw today?”

  We all shake our heads.

  “I saw a woman, quite old, who failed our training before. I remember her, she was scared, unsure of herself. And yet today, she came back to try again. She was more determined. She had to be. Everyone is desperate. We're all in a fight for our lives here.”

  “You're right, Jack,” adds in Ellie. “I heard something last night. I didn't mention it before, but...”

  “What?”

  “When I was visiting Link, I overheard some soldiers talking. They were saying that those who fight will get more rations to keep them strong. They are building a functioning army. They need soldiers who are ready for battle.”

  “So...what about those who can't fight? The old? Kids? What about them?” I ask.

  Ellie shrugs nonchalantly.

  “They'll be fed, just less. It makes sense to me.”

  “Me too,” says Athena. “If we're going to go down there and fight we need all the energy we can get.”

  I turn to Jackson.

  “You really think we have a chance against them, Jack? You know their training, their weapons. What can we do against that?”


  “We have no choice,” is all he says.

  It hardly inspires much confidence amongst us.

  We sit together for a little while in quiet discussion. There's a growing feeling that, sooner or later, something's going to break. That we will be forced to rush from this mountain fortress and confront our enemy head on. The only thing that works in our favour is the fact that Eden cannot possibly know what numbers we have here, how many people we have trained.

  That, if nothing else, gives me some confidence. When we arrived, the mountain was already well stocked with people. Since then, thousands upon thousands of refugees have flooded in from all over the Deadlands. Now, though, that steady stream has dried up.

  I discover that fact the following day. Back in the training room, I speak with the potential Watchers about any visions they've been having. Some have seen the same thing; refugees being slaughtered down in the valleys by the Eden army. For nearly a week now, no refugees have entered the city. Instead, they're being eradicated before they can even reach the gates.

  That afternoon, I seek out Drake. I haven't seen him in days, and he once more appears drained and exhausted when I finally track him down. He smiles when he sees the fire back in my eyes.

  “It's good to see you coming back to life, darling,” he says, drawing me into a hug. “What did you want to speak to me about.”

  “The Eden army down in the valley,” I say quickly. “They're killing refugees who are still fleeing here.”

  “I know,” he says. “Our scouts are spying on their every move. Unfortunately, some final stragglers are running into them. There's nothing we can do.”

  “But there is,” I say. “We were talking about it last night at dinner. We're going to fight, aren't we?”

  “I shouldn't say. We're still forming plans in the war council.”

  “And why aren't we being included?” I ask. “The Master sends us off on an impossible mission to Eden and then we get back here and are shoved aside again. I don't get it.”

  “Well, for a start you've been lost until now, Cyra,” says Drake. “And in any case, you and Ellie and Jackson have important work training new recruits.”