Although dirt-poor and subdued in those austere times, Outsiders showed steadfastness in their squalor. Life had knocked the stuffing out of them, but some still had hidden radios. When Pinkshirt patrols were far enough away, they listened to snippets of news bulletins from the outside world. There was a strict censorship of information about BogSplat’s Areas, but EthixCo provided updates to the news agencies about its free Areas. There was intelligence that EthixCo supported mutineers in many Areas surrounding SmogCity. Restaurant staff and servants in the Poshey houses listened out for any useful information. It was all put together and passed back to the Missing when their operatives made it through with food.
Continue reading “Wretched”Urban Misery
Gronk pulled an all-nighter in his office to review his tyrannical approach. He had an unshakeable self-confidence in carrying out his work and was convinced ruthless oppression was the only thing to do. And he would not listen to advice from anyone but himself. His lack of pity and feeling of infallibility bolstered a desire to dominate. Gronk was determined to suppress the spirit of the Outsiders. Subjugation was going well enough, but the necessary harm needed to be stepped up. Intransigence was his key to winning. Low-level job allocations, forcing people to live on the appropriate sides of Area Seven, information stranglehold and arrests were all a triumph. He stroked his pencil moustache. But the curfew and containment were only moderate successes. Breaches in security needed to be addressed immediately. He decided to increase patrols and introduce regular house-to-house searches.
Continue reading “Urban Misery”Shock
Gronk gathered his men together in the remains of the encampment. “We may not have taken any prisoners, but we are returning to warm houses. This crappy woodland is all this lot has got. And they were too cowardly to face us. So, I ask you… who are the victors?”
Continue reading “Shock”Counterinsurgents
Steve signalled a forward hand movement to his men hunkered down in the shadows. He led them past a gnarly piece of dead wood at the edge of the forest, all twisted and white. A cold breeze greeted the silent figures at the far end of the meadows. Billowing rain clouds scudded across the dark night sky. Over the brow of a hill, the troop of Missing had run silently away from Ragged Wood. They slipped through the pipe and into Area Seven, bypassing the light guard. They crawled through the snaking stream, slipped into gardens and then the cemetery. They ran in single file between the headstones. The double wrought iron gates at its entrance were firmly shut with rusting chains and a shiny, new padlock. The Missing silently helped each other over and formed in the lane. In twos, they ran toward the High Street with Steve Nobody in the lead.
Continue reading “Counterinsurgents”Attack
Down by the stream, Gronk amassed his Pinkshirts. The mission was to hit their enemy hard and round up the vagrants. Only a few guards were left along the perimeter fence. Gronk could feel the inevitability of victory. He ordered the men with dogs to the forefront and they accelerated away. He stood back and admired the way they hunted down the feeble Missing. His gallant forefather was a warrior and here he was. On the front line like a warrior of old, about to earn a self-awarded medal for bravery. A fighter mentality kick in as his soldiers ran past into the fray. Like all good military commanders, he would lead from the back. With his men safely between him and any danger, Gronk stepped into the dark forest like a canker.
Continue reading “Attack”This Is Your Time
Whoo-whoo-hooo.
Steve woke. He turned and looked at Harry.
“What’s the time?”
“Nearly midnight,” Harry replied.
Whoo-hooo.
“Can you see anything?” Steve asked.
Continue reading “This Is Your Time”Stress
Hours later and twilight descended over the meadows. The woodland darkened. Steve watched as the searchlights in the watchtowers switched on, sweeping the shadows. Looking beyond, the electricity from the Good Side formed a glow in the sky. He scanned toward the right and no light came from the Wrong Side. His attention never wavered, but he was tired. Looking at his watch, it was approaching 10:00 p.m. Time to change. He shook Harry’s shoulder and woke him. They whispered briefly and Steve lay down to sleep.
Continue reading “Stress”Ragged Wood
In the Missing’s encampment, some lay down, while others went about chores. They spread around the shallow valley. Clothes were hanging from low branches and a fire in its middle was roasting meat. The nearby stream mirrored overhanging trees. Steve could hear water rippling through the woodland. He lay on top of his sleeping bag until it was time for sentry duty. He brushed moss and soil from his trousers and stood slowly. Rays punctured the canopy above and shards of light reached into the clearing. He walked up a wooded hill cloaked with fern toward the most raised lookout post. When it was in sight, he slowed and scanned the vicinity. He saw two sentries and was beckoned forward. Crawling under the camouflage sheet, a guard shook his hand and slipped away into the forest. The other remained. It was Harry.
Continue reading “Ragged Wood”Contrast
Meanwhile, the Pinkshirts’ training focussed on urban style. Marching was key to looking good. They actively stayed away from rural locations as initial training off the beaten track got their uniforms dirty. The skirmish with Area Six was an unheeded warning. They sat around decadently smoking cigars, quaffing whisky and guffawing. Profligacy was the order of the day. Form over substance meant everything. So long as their uniforms were smart and patrols on time, everything ran like clockwork.
Continue reading “Contrast”Organise
Although unsettled, Steve knew he had to find the strength to be of some use. He met with Harry and Chester within the week to prepare. Although hardened by their surroundings, it was clear from early on the Missing were far from a cohesive revolutionary group. There had been more defections from the Wrong Side, but discipline had slackened. Their camps were scattered through Ragged Wood, so it would have been difficult to get everyone together quickly in an emergency. It seemed an impossible rebellion, doomed to failure. A decision was made to build a main camp deep in the woodland, close to the border with Area Six, so people could escape quickly if needs be. They would continue to live cheek by jowl, but more efficient organisation meant something bordering safety. Smaller, sheltered positions were hidden by the tree line adjoining the meadows to provide two-man teams with cover to look in the direction of the border fence and watchtowers of Area Seven.
Continue reading “Organise”