War in the City Chapter 10

IN THE FIFTH YEAR OF THE NEW ERA
Pompey surveyed his twenty men as they neared Daved park. Peter was among the twenty, as was Kialka, Davree, and the seven Pompey had taken with him to rescue the school. The other ten were made up of Watchers Peter did not know, and they had left in such a hurry that there was little time for introductions.

Pompey quickly divided everyone up into pairs, and instructed each pair as to where they were supposed to go to begin the attack. Each pair was given a specific location they were to arrive at and attack from. Davree and Kialka were both paired up together, while Peter and Aesych were given special instructions.

"Aesych, you think you can handle it alone out there?" Pompey asked.

Aesych smiled fiercely. "No problem."

"Go by the second willow tree then. Peter, you're with me. Now everyone, I trust I don't have to remind you that our whole strategy is based on the advantage of surprise, so be extremely careful not to be detected. Nobody fires until I give the single, so watch your computer pads carefully. Any questions?" Pompey was met only with silence. "Good, now move." Everyone dispersed rapidly.
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"Do we go ahead now?" Peter asked.

Pompey's arm shot out in front of Peter to prevent him from moving. "Stay still. There's one of them out there yet." Pompey watched the screen on his computer pad intently, then slowly lowered his arm. "Okay, we can move now. He's gone."

Pompey and Peter both got off from their stomaches and walked forward onto the path. "It seems making it to the middle of the park undetected isn't quite as easy as it sounds," Peter commented.

Pompey brushed the dirt off from his shirt. "No, it's not, but somebody has to do it. I'm the leader, so it's only fair I get the most dangerous job. Of course, I guess it's not fair to bring you with me, but I think we'll both end up alright. How about your friends? Do you think they can hold their own in the fight?"

Peter nodded. "I wouldn't have let them come if they couldn't. They can both shoot a laser gun fairly well."

"Well against these Harpies, fairly well is all they'll need. They should do alright. I sure hope they do anyway."

Pompey bended a tree branch that extended into the path, and held it until Peter could grab hold of it, so it didn't snap back in Peter's face the minute he let go of it. "Do you expect any casualties here in Daved Park?" Peter asked.

"Not on our side, no. Although I can't say that it would surprise me if I were proved wrong."

"The numbers certainly aren't in our favor."

"They have got an advantage number wise, yes. I suppose I could have taken more people with me, but we're short people anyway. The fewer men I could take to get the job done, the better."

"You're obviously not worried about their vast numerical superiority."

"Not really. I mean, how many Harpies did Varro say there were here? About a hundred, right?"

"You could check your computer pad for the exact amount," Peter suggested.

Pompey looked down at the screen and pressed two buttons. "Ninety eight. Oh, one just arrived, ninety nine. Alright, ninety nine. And there's twenty one of us. That's what, five Harpies per Watcher?"

"Roughly."

"Of course. Now those might seem like terrible odds, but once you factor in how bad the Harpies are with a laser gun, I think we stand alright. And that's not even considering that most of the Harpies might flee at the first sign of attack. That would dramatically reduce their numbers, wouldn't it?"

"I guess it would."

"So I'm not too worried about it." Pompey and Peter emerged from the woods and back into Daved park. Pompey pointed to a clump of bushes. "That's our station. Let's hurry, there are more Harpies on their way here." The two ran there, the area temporarily vacant of Harpies.

"Well that was lucky," Pompey remarked once they were in position. "Not a Harpy in sight the whole way to the bushes."

"Well we certainly waited in the woods long enough," Peter remarked. "I'm sure everyone else must be in position by now."

Pompey looked down at his computer pad. "Well, not quite everyone, but we can wait. The last thing we would want to do is rush this." Pompey looked up from his computer screen and at Peter. "So what about you?" he asked. "How good are you with a laser gun?"

Peter shrugged. "I'm okay, I guess."

"Well, do you think you can handle it here?"

"Shooting wise, yeah, I should be okay. It's just that..." Peter's voice faded out, he shook his head.

"Just that what?"

"Well, it's just that I've never killed anyone before. I'm not sure I can."

Pompey smiled. "Understandable, very understandable. Don't worry about it, I've never killed anyone before today either. Very few of us have ever killed anyone before today. It's a lot easier than you think. In fact the best strategy is probably not to think about it. Just aim the gun at them and shoot."

"But it's not that easy. It can't be. When you kill someone, you destroy everything about them. All their dreams, their hopes, their love their hate, all the things they feel, all their memories, just gone like that."

"Well listen, nobody's saying they enjoy it, but it has to be done. When the fighting starts, you just remember those two children, and see how hard it is. We never asked for violence, but we got it, and if those Harpies get killed in their own war," Pompey shrugged, "while it's just events coming full circle, and there's nothing anybody can do to stop it."

"I just don't know."

"Peter, listen to me. We are defending our home against attackers. We're defending ourselves; that's all. Every Harpy that escapes from this park is just going to be free to kill more Watchers, so if we can help it not a single one escapes, right?"

Peter just nodded, not sure he agreed, but certainly feeling Pompey had backed him into a corner logically.

A flock of Harpies returned to the area. Peter and Pompey were forced to stop talking, and wait in silence. After a few minutes, Pompey glanced down at his computer screen. "That's it, everybody's in position," he whispered. "Are you sure you're up to this?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Pompey wasn't exactly sure what those words were supposed to mean, so he looked at Peter quizzically for a moment. Then, satisfied, he pushed a button on the computer pad. "That's the signal. Now remember, shoot all the Harpies you can before we get out of our hiding place."

Pompey took the first shoot, shooting a Harpy in the air. He then quickly moved his gun to shot another in the air, then down to hit another in a tree. Peter took aim in the opposite direction, aiming at one Harpy standing one the ground. He looked carefully down the barrel of the gun; aimed right at the Harpy's head. His finger wrapped itself around the trigger, but he didn't pull it. He remained there, motionless with the gun aimed, but without pulling the trigger.

Pompey shot three Harpies on the ground, then killed two as they tried to fly off through the air. The Harpies were firing back at the bushes, but not with much success, although some of their shots did come alarmingly close. The close shots began to worry Pompey, and he was much aware that Peter had not fired a single shot. "Come on Peter, I need your help here," Pompey said. His voice was much louder than usual, and yet it barely penetrated the sound of the battle. Peter knew he had to help. The Harpy he had been aiming at had flown away, but Peter shifted his gun to focus on another. This Harpy was in the tree tops, firing down into the bushes. Peter aimed his gun at it, and closed his eyes, thinking it would be easier to fire if he wasn't looking at the victim. Nothing happened. Peter just could not make himself pull the trigger. It was Pompey who shot the Harpy. Soon, the area was clear. All the Harpies who didn't escape were dead.

Pompey angrily turned to face Peter. "Damn it, I thought we had this settled!"

Peter shook his head, confused. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't do it. I wanted to, but I just couldn't."

Pompey angrily turned away, took a deep breath and turned back, somewhat calmer. "You're a good man Peter, but I guess you're just not a fighter. Maybe you can help us like Varro, but I don't think you'll be coming into battle again."
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It was supposed to be a relatively easy position to hold. True, the willow tree they were supposed to hide behind, unusually large though it was, provided little shelter, but then there were very few Harpies in that area anyway. What happened was hardly foreseeable, yet at the same time a careful analysis of the situation might have prevented it. At any rate, the problem certainly wasn't obvious, and no one caught it.

Ortel and Justa were stationed behind the willow tree. Aesych, as it may be recalled, was also stationed behind a willow tree, this one a little further down to the West. When the signal was given, Aesych did not fail to demonstrate his zeal for the task, nor was his skill with a laser gun left to question. He was obviously more than a match for the Harpies he was fighting, and most of them didn't even try to retaliate, but got away as soon as they could.

One the other hand, to the East of Ortel and Justa were stationed Morphel and Strata, two men both well known for their skill with a laser gun. (Morphel had seldom failed to win first prize in laser gun tournaments, and Strata placed respectively in the same tournaments.) Pompey had intentionally stationed them in the area filled with the most Harpies. Like Aesych, most of the Harpies fled from them rather then trying to fight back.

Poor Justa and Ortel, right in the middle. Not all of the Harpies fled from these two areas into theirs, but enough did; enough to overwhelm the two. They were attacked from all sides, and the willow tree proved of little help. Where ever they shot down a Harpy, a new one seemed to appear. Perhaps they could have held out where they were, but the chances were very slim. If they chose to run for help, they would be forsaking all their offense. The Harpies would shoot at them, but they would be unable to shoot back (or perhaps more correctly, they would be able to shoot back only well running, with no time to aim and consequently no accuracy to their shots other than that provided by luck.)

It was not much of a choice, but they had it envisioned perfectly in their minds. They would run the short distance over to the area of Strata and Morphel, at which point their two friends would easily shoot down every Harpy in sight, and they would be safe. And so, the decision was made to run.

First, they fired everywhere they could, spraying the whole area. The Harpies instinctively backed up at first, some of them were even hit by the fire. Then, in that moment when things cleared up ever so briefly, they ran.