10 Minute Tales

May 15 - The Impatient Sentinel

He drummed his fingers on the barrel of his rifle, looking out over the wasteland. The mark of their enemy, a towering vehicle that reached higher than the buildings, laid inert save for a circling communications array. He walked onto a wooden structure - too dilapidated to even call a building now - and marched to the front. The medic was already there, wrapping a bandage around the sniper's arm. "How's it looking?"

"Not good." the medic sighed, glancing up. "We haven't heard back from the scouting party yet. Your rifle's the closest we have to a sort of defence."

"ETA until the party's return?" he looked over, at the disrupted horizon.

"Should be within the hour." the medic commented. The sniper grunted, shuddering as he came to again.

"Gh... where are the bastards...?" he grunted, trying to stand up. The medic held him down with a firm hand; the sniper resisted, but eventually gave up and flopped again.

"It's alright, soldier, we have an hour or so until the scouting party returns."

"They're... they're not gonna return, are they...?"

"Calm down. They'll figure out what they need to figure out and come right back. Mind if I borrow your scope?"

"Where're your binoculars?" the sniper grunted, hissing between clenched teeth as a little blood leaked into the bandage. The medic grunted in frustration as he started to reapply the bandage.

"They broke during the last wave."

"Tch... of course." the sniper rolled his eyes. "Fine, go on, then..." he held the rifle up with his good arm. The soldier took the rifle and cast a wary eye over the surrounding area. Scores of footprints showed where the last wave of units had marched through, the path of destruction they had wrought. They had been attempting to deploy a massive explosive to the nearby railway line; why they had chosen this particular part of it, he would never be able to guess, but if the rail went down they could kiss the resistance's transport connections goodbye. It needed to stay firm. He looked at the vehicle they used. A massive monolith of metal and malice, dragged along by a set of no less than eight tracks. He didn't know what was within, but he could guess; hundreds, if not thousands, of the enemy. They were nothing but robots, purpose-built for the delivery of this bomb, but they were armed. Whoever had built them seemed to have access to many, many weapons, and they weren't afraid to throw them at this patch of desert. "Anything?" the sniper asked, fidgety without his rifle.

"Nothing but the dirt and the sky." the soldier replied, lowering the rifle. "Can't see anybody out there, human or otherwise."

"Figures... you upgraded your gun?"

"Yeah, just waiting on the others before we use the false go signal."

"You assume that they are coming back?" the medic sighed. "This wouldn't be the first scouting party to go missing, and I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't the last."

"I believe in them. My brother's out there, after all. Why wouldn't I believe in them?" the sniper and the medic exchanged a brief glance. As confident as the soldier was, they weren't so sure.