Snippet #1865084

Sitting in the back of one of the beat-up trucks they'd used to travel across No-Man's-Land, Eve lay with her feet kicked up, the bullhorn resting in her lap as she listened to Andrew's speech with a bored expression on her face. All around her, the Disciples were staring up to the crest of the hill that guarded them from their enemy's eyes, many of them crouched just in case the tops of their heads were visible. She had convinced them that they had numbers on their side, and a ruthless leader who would guide them to victory. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that there wasn't a single person who was more feared than she.

The thought made a tingle of pleasure travel down her spine. With a small smile, she picked up her short-wave radio, putting the receiver to her lips as Andrew continued to drabble on about the noble way to go about things.

He was so fucking naive.

"This is Commander to Watchdog, come in Watchdog." she spoke softly, with the volume on the radio turned down. A few people turned to glance at her, as if they couldn't believe she wasn't even bothering paying attention to what Andrew was saying.

"This is Watchdog, Commander. Over."

"Is Wyatt's team in place? I want to make sure that he has a free and clear path, over."

The radio crackled noisily. She was quick to turn down the volume even more, holding the radio close to her ear as Watchdog's voice came back over the speakers. "Confirmed, Commander. Wyatt's team is positioned as you've requested, over."

"Make sure he's reminded of how delicate the situation is. Andrew may be a patriotic child, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have a head on his shoulders. If Wyatt fails, and if I lose Jessie, there's going to be a lot more bloodshed than necessary." She paused. "Over."

The people around her immediately returned their attention to the voice echoing to them over the crest of the hill. None of them wanted to be on the receiving end of Eve's wrath, but those who would be responsible for the first wave of attack didn't want to feel the bite of Andrew's bullet. They had a small distance to cross before they reached the minefield, and it would be a dead sprint, with not a whole lot of firepower to defend themselves with. Then, if the children didn't make it across the minefield...

Well, they'd be screwed, essentially.

Eve had this in the back of her mind, too. Andrew was limited on firepower, but she was even more limited. She was relying on scare tactics, psychological warfare, and numbers to win this. And even then, Andrew was so caught up in the idea that she was here to obliterate the East that he was failing to remember one important detail.

Eve was here for one thing, and one thing only. Putting a hurting on the Eastern forces was just a major bonus.

Shifting to a kneeling position, she stepped out of the back of the truck, walking amongst her forces before coming to a halt next to the front line. The men and women all lay crouched, with semi-automatics in hand. Each of them had one or two extra magazines attached to their hips, but anyone in their right mind knew that it wouldn't do them much good if the East opened fire on them from a higher vantage point.

Task one was to get the children into the minefield anyway. With body parts and dust flying into the air, the Easts view of the oncoming forces would be distorted, at best. She put her hand on the shoulders of the few who stood next to her, adopting a look of stern determination. She found that this was better to motivate people over looking sadistically pleased.

Inside, she was giggling like a school girl.

"You're going to wait for my signal before we begin the onslaught." she told them. "I have a man in position just a little ways from here. He's going to get the children moving. Your job will be to encourage them towards the field with as little firepower as possible."

They didn't look at her, simply nodded. More than one person was feeling sick at the thought of opening fire on the children.

But all was fair in love and war, wasn't it?

She picked up her radio, rising to her feet and making her way back to the truck. "Commander to Nighthawk, confirm your position, over."

An indistinct collection of words and numbers came back to her over the radio, bringing a smile to the North leader's lips. "Excellent. You may begin when you hear the code word, over."

She went back to the truck, leisurely swinging herself up into the bed before taking the bullhorn and setting it to her lips.

"I don't think there is a collection of people who care less about how you feel about the situation, Andrew." Eve said with a slight roll of her eyes. "And here you stand, thinking that somehow you're much better than I am, that your tactics are far superior, that you are the noble man, that I am the Devil's advocate." She straightened, sitting on the edge of the truck and looking towards the compound, still safe from their eyes.

"But here you are, using a child crippled by your own hands to deliver a message more pathetic than your attempt at selfless bravery. You've murdered, Andrew. You've had to kill innocents too. In this world, the only way anyone can gain the upper hand is through flexing metaphorical muscles and choking the life out of the man standing next to us. Its a dog-eat-dog world. Survival of the fittest. There's no room for chivalry. And good intentions died with our grandparents."

She grinned again. "This is our world, Andrew. Mine and yours. We have no one to blame but ourselves for how fucked up it is. But really, if I'm going to hell in a hand basket, I may as well make it worth my while. So go ahead, stand behind your wall of stone. Make yourself feel better by continuing to run your mouth, but nothing you can say or do is going to stop us, to stop me, from doing precisely what I have come to do."

There was a breath of silence, and Eve could feel the tension rising up all around her. People clenched knives, arrows, and bows, archaic weapons, but useful ones when the bullets ran out. And they would run out, for both sides.

"So build that wall, Andrew." she finally said.

From off to the army's left, the quick rat-tat of an automatic weapon errupted from the trees, spraying a small wave of bullets behind the children who stood patiently at the opening to the gate. Eve's forces did not move.

The children screamed, unaware of the danger they were about to put themselves in as they were essentially herded into the minefield, trying to flee the bullets. Left in the dust was a child who had strayed too far from the group, a blossom of blood spreading out between his shoulders.

Eve waited, listening to the screams with closed eyes, a serene expression on her face.

Then the first explosion made the ground rumble, sending dust and dirt and other unrecognizable substances flying into the air. The screams became more panicked, and several more explosions came in quick succession.

It had all happened so fast.

Eve's eyes opened as she withdrew a flare gun from a holster at her side, holding it high in the air before firing it over the battle-field.

The first wave of forces moved then, a three-thousand man wave that came up over the hill and sprinted for the entrance to the minefield. Up ahead, the children were still, the air thick and clouded with dust.

Then the atmosphere was rippled by the sound of the Disciple's gutteral roar.