The Border

The Border

The Border, a towering steel wall 5 meters thick, fortified by titanium pillars to keep it from falling. It's 100 meters tall and nearly impossible to cross. There's only one gate, and guards are stationed there day and night. They're armed with machine guns, and armor, made from reinforced steel and titanium. They wear helmets, which have night vision and thermal trackers embedded in it.

I'm one of those guards. I've been working at the Border for nearly five years now. Everyday is the same for me. I wake from the bunker, a steel box which consists of beds and a washroom. I have my meal in the bunker, and then suit up and start patrolling the Border. There are always four other guards with me, all fully armored and armed too. Our job is simple, kill anyone who tries to pass. You may be wondering why we're all fully suited up for war and why the nature of our job is as such. It's pretty simple. The side of the world we're facing is poor. There are slums everywhere, where children starve to death everyday and disease outbreaks are a common sight. Factories let out chemicals which pollutes the drinking water of the people. Many people die by the time they reach forty. Others who are luckier survive for a few more years.

There are many that know about the Border, and want to get out. One thing about the slums is that they have a supply of weapons and ammo. The place was after all, an army camp before the war. After everything blew over refugees sought refuge there but things never got better. In fact they got worse. Every once awhile the slum gangs would try and break through the Border. The other side of the Border were the first world countries. Developed cities with towering skyscrapers and busy roads with cars honking endlessly. The refugees don't know that though, but they believe there's a better world on the other side. They gather an army of people, all armed with guns, and charge us. Usually at night, since they think we can't see them. How foolish. We make quick work of them. Their bodies litter the Border but we have people in charge to dispose of them. Most of the bodies are incinerated, their ashes are packed in cargo in a helicopter, which are then dropped back down on the slums. It's a cruel yet powerful example to others.

The reason why I volunteered to work at the Border was simple. The pay was good, it was ten grand per month, and that included meals. There were no holidays, or rests. Every single day was a day of work. It wasn't that bad for me since I had no family back in the city. I lost my family at a young age, during the war. I had no friends, I was isolated among society. Over here at the Border, friendships are discouraged too. It's a “every man for himself” style of working here. Even though I've been here for five years, I don't even know the name of the four other guys I work with. We work for the government, and it's secret business too. The people in the cities believe it's a barren wasteland on the other side of the Border, and it's good they keep that way. If anyone found out there would be a living nightmare, we would probably be put to death, and the Border would be shut down for good.

But sometimes nightmares come true, when you least expect it.

Night had fallen upon us, there was no moon nor stars that night, the sky was foggy and it was dead quiet. I did my rounds as usual, my heavy boots as loud as thuds in the dead silence. I was holding my MG at chest level, ready to fire if anyone came near. It was a pretty long walk for a single cycle where I was assigned to, but I enjoyed the silence. It helped me to concentrate, and I was alerted at the slightest sound.

Thud

I spun round instinctively, gun raised with my sight aimed down, finger on the trigger. I held my breath, ready to fire upon sight. But there was no one. The four other guards heard it too, and were on alert.

Thud, thud, thud.

The noise was getting louder, it sounded like someone was banging against a door. But the Border was out in the open, the only door belonged to the bunker and we all knew no one would be inside. The only other door that I knew of was the.....gate.

I sprinted to the gate, finger still on the trigger. No one should have gotten past the guard stationed right the gate, it was impossible. When I got there, the guard saw me and nodded. He motioned to the gate. I stopped in my tracks and listened. The sound was coming from the other side. The three other guards had also returned from their patrols and were staring at the gate too.

I panicked, someone from the city was on the other side. We couldn't open the door, lest we were discovered. But the noise would attract the attention of the slum gangs, who would no doubt come to us armed, ready to pick another fight. This wasn't a good situation to be stuck in, in fact I didn't think things could get any worse than this. The Border was to be kept a secret at all costs. We all knew what we had to do, but no one had the guts to shoot.

I took a deep breath. I waited for someone to step out, to open the gate. We stood motionless there, guns still raised.

I have nothing to lose.

My family is dead.

I don't have friends.

I'm alone in this world.

Five years, five years I've been doing this. Killing people without mercy, knowing that they had families and friends who would mourn over them. I was taught to show no mercy to others. I was taught to be a killer who had a heart of steel. No emotional attachments to anyone or anything. This was how I was bred.

I inched towards the gate. The others noticed, and started backing away. No one wanted to be seen, they all backed off to a safe distance, keeping a close eye on me.

The controls for the gate were never used before. We were instructed to only use them if we were overpowered by the slum gangs. This was an exception though. I reached for the lever that would open the gate. I grabbed it, my arms shaking for the first time in years. I thought of backing off, to return to my patrols and ignore the sound. But it was still there. I had nothing to lose, death was in fact, a gift for me.

I cranked the lever, and at once the gates swung opened. I pointed my MG towards the opening, sure someone would step through. A shadow fell forward, and a foot stepped through. I had my finger on the trigger, ready to open fire at any moment. A man emerged, he seemed to be in his forties. He was dressed casually, shirts and shorts. He seemed shocked at the slums in the distance, and he looked around.

His gaze met mine, and his mouth opened in shock, forming an O. I pulled the trigger, it was a three shot burst, the rounds pierced his chest and he fell forwards. I kept my weapon raised, waiting to see if anyone else would step through the gate, but it seemed that he was alone.

I lowered my MG. The other guards were looking at me, and we all knew what would happen. There were cameras positioned around us to monitor our movement, and the people who were in charge of watching us just saw me shoot a man from the city. At this moment they would be sending people to bring me in, not for questioning but for death. There wasn't a need for interrogation, I was to be killed.

I removed my helmet, and threw my MG to the ground. There wasn't a point holding on to them. I had chosen to die, I wouldn't bother fighting back. Within minutes, they came for me. I didn't struggle, I didn't say anything. I just looked up, and saw the great blue sky, on the other side. For some reason, it was a comforting sight, and I treasured it.