Zeke stared at the monitor directly in front of him. It was currently displaying a narrow alley. On the left of it, part of a building looked partially destroyed. A shadow darted across the space. The screen flickered to the next image.
“Go back! I think I saw one!” he said, barely containing his excitement. Noah’s bellowing laugh made him tear his eyes away from the monitor.
“Zeke, there are literally millions of them out there. That’s sort of the point of us being locked in here. Seeing a shadow on one camera isn’t a reason to sound the alarm. Now if we see five or more in a ten metre radius, that’s a cluster. We call that in.”
Zeke swung around in his chair full circle before leaning forward, resting his chin on his hands. The feed flicked through uneventfully.
“Don’t the surveillance team watch these cameras? I don’t really get the point of waiting around here all day.”
“You’re sounding suspiciously like Habib and Splat right now,” Noah said, amused. “We’re here so we’re in position to take any action deemed necessary by Command.”
Zeke checked the time on his band eight times before they hit the next hour. He filled the silence by asking a series of what he hoped were intelligent-sounding questions.
“So, in that case, would we—”
The ringing of Noah’s wristband interrupted them.
“Lieutenant Forrest, this is Officer Stone, acting on behalf of infrastructure. Command has cleared us to assign all of your personnel for a code seven-seven, I repeat, a code seven-seven. Please confirm.”
Zeke’s eyes locked with Noah’s, hoping to see a clue of what was to come. However, Noah’s face remained impassive.
“When was the threshold reached?”
“Five minutes, thirty seconds ago. They want it blocked within the hour. You’re only a twenty-minute drive. Location is on its way to your dashboard. Do you need anything else from us, sir?”
“That’s all. Thanks, Stone.” Noah ended the call, and jumped up, repacking the few possessions he carried in his sack.
“What’s going on? Are we going over the wall?” Zeke said, his voice an octave higher than usual.
“Yes.” Noah didn’t look up from his intent scrutiny of the tablet.
“But what are we doing?”
“I need to call the others, Zeke. Hold on.”
He tapped three times on his wristband, and within seconds, one person from each of the other watchtowers joined the call.
“Murphy has assigned us an emergency seven-seven.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me. Best. Duty. Ever,” came Splat’s voice out of Noah’s band.
“I want everyone on bikes within five. I’m sending the rendezvous point now.”
Zeke’s heart stuttered in his chest as panic took hold of him. He grabbed hold of Noah’s arm and lightly shook it. “But what’s happening?” he almost shouted.
At last, Noah stopped to give him his full attention, expression softening. He dropped his bag to reach for Zeke’s other arm, and now held him still in front of him. “Don’t worry. You’ll just be watching and supporting us on this one,” he said, before adding in a softer tone, “You’ve got this.”
After lightly squeezing them, Noah released his arms, picked up both their daysacks, then eased him towards the door by pushing the small of his back. Noah retrieved the weapons they’d left in a box near the bottom step and passed him a crossbow and burst rifle.
Throwing the cover off the closest motorbike, Noah jumped on it and kicked the stand.
“You’re driving.” Noah scooted backwards to allow space for him to take the handlebar. Zeke stayed frozen in place. “Unless you’d rather shoot?” Noah raised one sceptical eyebrow. “I would prefer to return with most of my limbs attached, however.”
Zeke forced himself forward, climbing into the saddle. He steadied his shaking hands by gripping the throttle as hard as he could. Noah’s arms snaking around his waist did nothing to calm his nerves. He pressed the ignition key, startling as the vehicle roared to life, the vibrations shaking his whole body. Behind him, Noah slid forward, further closing the space between them. This was going to be a long drive.
“Helmets,” Noah shouted over the hum. He placed Zeke’s on his head for him, tightening the strap under his chin, before storing both of their daysacks in the saddlebags.
“Let’s go.” Noah’s voice burst through his helmet’s in-built speaker. He squeezed Zeke’s side for emphasis and pointed at the black gate. Zeke entertained a brief fantasy of twisting the throttle all the way towards him and charging the closed gate at full speed. It would surely be a relatively quick and painless way to die.
