Defying Terror

Chapter XXIV

Capt. Brian W. Manchester, No. 002

16 August 2030

22:47 QCT

I swing open the front door and see him leaning on the porch railing. "What do you want?"

James groans. "So, this is how you're going to be, huh? Not everyone can be blessed with my presence, you know."

The door clicks behind me as I sit on the steps. "Lucky me."

It's a quiet night, for once. The low hum of vehicles near the city is muted, uncharacteristically for a summer Friday night. Moths swarm the porch light above my head, periodically tapping the glass. The sea breeze sweeps through, even up here on the hill overlooking the churning ocean. I heard on the news that a storm is coming in from the southeast.

James presses off the railing and takes a seat beside me. He cups his hand and rests his chin, staring out to where the city glare dies out into the stars. After appreciating the life beyond, he smiles, turning to me. "No murders today."

Though I wasn't planning on expressing the happiness that comes with such news, I find myself copying him. "Finally." I extend my legs so the block soles of my shoes discover the dirt at the base of the steps. "So, what, did they just give up? They've killed enough people, don't you think?"

"They wouldn't just give up like that. They're probably taking a break before starting again."

These past couple days have been hectic, to say the least. Up until today, we had some crimes to attend to. We have made no progress on any of them, even dating back to when Slater was first found with the mark on his arm. There is nothing to go off of besides that mark, and even that is virtually nothing. It's gotten to the point where there are no reported murders of people without the M. All the other petty criminals have hidden in their holes, probably knowing that whatever they intend to do cannot match up to what the Medo is doing.

Wednesday night was the last time I spoke to Slater, right after he got into a fight with that Luke Bradley kid. Apparently, this guy has a track record of fucking up his day, even before the violence started. But it seems to me that the rankers and any of the Class 29 supervisors have turned a blind eye to all the madness, considering he hasn't received any sort of major discipline.

I hate to reminisce about my days as a recruit, but for the sake of comparison, I have to point out one thing. Kids like Luke Bradley would have never made it past the first day in Class 0's ranking. I don't know when the culture changed where being an asshole to other recruits was tolerated, but I shouldn't have to reiterate that I'm disappointed it did. The ranking is about being better than the rest, yes, but at the end of the day, we're all in the Imperial Guard. Someone shouldn't put another recruit down to build themselves up, especially if they get away with it.

I wonder how Slater turned out with the new group he was placed in. I spoke with Talia Rory, Sergeant of Class 27, who is helping out with the ranking this week, earlier. She said the group consists of recruits who are expected to make it into the top ten, which could be good for Slater to adapt to. Hopefully, they can be a positive influence on him, but I have a slight pain in my chest that keeps me from certainty. The chance he doesn't make it to immediate duty is still significant, and if he is sitting at the ranking ceremony, eight days from now, he might have to watch all his new friends be ranked while he stays in his seat. The thought... well, it hurts.

Yesterday, there were four murders in the Meadowlands. A couple of hikers traveling through the mountains discovered a family lying dead along the rocks near the base of the incline. A mother, father, and two young daughters, no older than fifteen, branded with the mark of the Medo. They were from Glanz, on the other side of the region. The man was an architect, and the woman was an engineer who designed prototypes for the Empire-wide train that allows transport between the regions. The older of the two daughters played the violin, while the younger daughter was a straight-A student in her private school.