After by Karpa Boris

Author:Karpa, Boris [Karpa, Boris]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Post-Apocalyptic | Nuclear War
Published: 2017-09-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

It was a cold, dreary night in October. George shuddered as he paced his guard tower, pulling his jacket collar up to try and protect his ears from the cold wind. Strangely, he wished it were winter already. By winter, he would have a longer, warmer jacket, and maybe he could get Timothy to make him one of those small stoves made out of a pea soup can. He raised his hands towards the simple torch attached to one corner of his guard platform, careful not to push his woolen gloves into the fire. He shouted to the man on the nearest guard tower.

“Mr. Greenly?”

“Yeah, George?” – from across the gate, George could not see the judge's face all that well. From here, the judge appeared as a tall, dark figure, silhouetted by the flame of his own torch. And yet he was at least within the reach of a shout. The other guard towers were too far off, standing at the corners of the heavy fort walls that surrounded Holmes.

“You know, Mr. Greenly, it's pretty cold here,” – the young man said.

“Are you saying this because you really think it's cold, or are you just trying to strike up a conversation?” – Arthur chuckled.

There was an embarrassed pause. “Actually, sir, it's both.”

“Ha, I understand. I was in the Army, you know. You do quite a lot of standing guard, there. Of course, we had a sensible rule – if a person stood guard more than two hours at a time, he had to have a companion with him. Here, we stand just two hours' worth. But I remember having to stand for four-hour shifts, even as long as six hours.”

“Six hours!” – George exclaimed incredulously.

“Just like that. Two guys with rifles, standing guard at some gate out in the desert, the wind blowing in our faces. And nothing happens. Here – here you can hear the wolves howling. You can look at the town's lights and see why you're standing guard. Over there – there would be nothing, you would just wait, and wait, and eventually you'd begin to catch yourself wanting something bad to happen, just so something would happen at all.” – there was silence. Nothing but the faint rumble of the town behind them, almost inaudible, and the sound of Arthur's heavy boots knocking on the tower floor – thump, thump, thump.

“Here? Here it's okay. It's not like anybody is going to come. And you can sit here... just listen to the animals out there, George. Listen to the wolves howling.” Again, the judge fell quiet. There was silence, again, and George listened to it, smiling as he let the cold air wash over his face. He felts as if he was important. As if he was standing on the border between the town, with its warm homes and lit-up windows and the rumble of family talk, and the outside world, with its bears and wolves and silence.

Silence?

“Sir?” – he spoke, raising his shotgun, up until now leaning against the side of his watcher's nest.

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