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The Border

I had an idea for a series of super short stories, mostly told through letters, reports and diaries, about the people living on the border of a fledgling city-state in a post-post-apocalyptic setting. People are beginning to rebuild over the ruins of the old world and worrying (somewhat) less about struggling for day to day survival and they don’t call it the apocalypse anymore, it’s just everyday life. This first bit will be told from each side’s point of view in turn. I chose to start with Grant’s story just because Burn It by Refused began to play on my playlist when I sat down to type. Next will either be Dianne’s or the Strangers’ point of view.

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What is there to say? It burned beautifully. Flames lick the stars and the glow of the burning trucks and cars can be seen for miles. From where I sit on my hill I can see silhouettes flit to and fro against the light. There are frantic shouts and screams for what to save and what to leave behind, who to save and who to leave behind.

The guards on the border had warned them this morning about trespassing on the King's land. A scout found them wandering one of the back roads heading towards the Clifton settlement. He lead them to Dianne's post for proper passage and inspection. I heard there was an altercation and things didn't end on peaceful terms. I wouldn't expect it to end any other way seeing as how Hodge and his tribe arrived hot on the strangers' heels soon after, claiming damages, injury, and theft. I imagine Mitchell must have been there to help navigate the conversation, otherwise Dianne would have solved the matter with a bullet or two being lodged in a brain. Patience has never been one of Dianne's strongest virtues, and Mitchell has always been better with words. Now keep in mind that I only heard about all of this secondhand. I'm sure I didn't get the whole story. From what I'm told, Hodge and his crew left unsatisfied with the negotiations and the promises made, but no guns were drawn. The strangers were told to shove off somewhere else. We don't want their kind of trouble around here, especially the kind that stirs up local warlords like Hodge. And they did shove off for a while. At least until this evening when one of my patrol caught them crossing the river boarder a few miles to the south. I sent a runner up to Mitch and Di, they sent word back, and me and my boys took care of the matter.

I guess that wraps up this report. I'll send another letter in the morning to update you on the situation. I'll have Luke round up survivors soon for questioning once they tire themselves out a little more fighting the fires. There's a lesser chance of resistance this way. I'll send word to out to Hodge's camp as well. Hopefully he’ll be happy with the way things turned out and we can avoid any further conflict with him.

-Grant Montridge, 8th Patrol Southwest Territory

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