Move

Baird always dreamed of moving. Whether with his parents or without, he wanted to get away from Tollen's high society. He considered running away many times throughout the years but he knew he wasn't the "roughing it" type; he had become so accustomed to his comfortable life, it sickened him that he knew he couldn't live without it.

Well, that all changed when my life went down the crapper.

After joining the COG army, Baird was rarely in one place now. It was days like this when he missed the solidarity of his old life. After crash landing in Jacinto, he was tasked with civilian liaison and defense while evacuating a small sector in west Jacinto. He watched from the sidewalk as pedestrians ambled down the ruined road with as many belongings as they could carry. Trucks and cars still miraculously running were careful of those walking, but Baird wanted to speed the whole process up.

Command decided to sink Jacinto in a last-ditch effort to stop the grubs and everyone knew it. That didn't seem to worry any of the civvies, though. They took their sweet time as they moved in an orderly line like they'd been trained. Although some of them looked scared, they had complete faith that the COG wouldn't blow the ground out from under their feet. As far as they cared, they had all the time in the world.

Baird knew the truth, though. After meeting up with Colonel Hoffman in Command, Marcus, Dom, and Hoffman ran off to save the day. Baird had only made it out the doors when someone radioed for back-up while the civilians moved. Hoffman slapped his shoulder and told him to get on it, and so Baird stood hugging his Lancer as Ravens and Reavers streaked over his head and artillery echoed throughout the city. He looked up as another group of Ravens passed overhead. Any moment now and one of them will drop out of the sky. They always do. But Baird secretly hoped they were full of Gears from the Hollow. Not everyone was as batshit crazy as Delta to hijack Reavers.

The ground rumbled under his boots.

"Come on, people, let's hurry it up!" he barked. He was starting to get antsy. Marcus would radio in that he was ready to blow the place and not even half the civvies of this sector would be ready to ship out.

It was only when the rumbling persisted that the civvies began to hurry. Suddenly the gunfire was a lot closer than it had been and the radio was buzzing with activity.

"Contact in Sector Eight! E-hole on Diamond Street!"

Baird automatically looked south, the direction of the skirmish. That's only two blocks away. If they don't close that hole, we'll be up to our hips in the shit.

"Sir, what's that gunfire?" a man called, having spotted Baird with his hand cupped over his ear to hear the radio better.

"Grubs on Diamond," Baird replied. "You guys need to get your asses moving in case they decide to join the party."

The man went pale in the face and hitched his bag higher on his shoulder as he spread the word. Suddenly car horns blared and Gears at the head of the convoy were trying to calm the storm of fear. They still had to get names for the roster and that was hard to do with civvies bleating and scattering like scared sheep.

It's the hive mind, mass hypnosis or hysteria—it's a bitch. They don't realize they make it harder for us when they act like idiots.

"Baird? It's Anya," his earpiece chirped. It never surprised him how radio procedure went out the window in crisis situations. "Marcus is under Jacinto now—he and Dom have a Brumak."

"Say what?"

"Yeah, I know, but that's Marcus," she sighed. "They're preparing a place for the Lightmass Bomb but it still needs prepped. Are you free?"

Baird wanted to call in to the squad that engaged the grubs nearby. Was the hole closed? He only heard sporadic fire now but that could have been the grubs. But who else could prep the bomb? There were enough men stationed here that Baird felt comfortable taking off.

"Sure. I'll be back in five," Baird said. "Just, uh, keep an ear open for this sector. Some guys took on an E-hole and I don't know their status. Grubs could be waiting to ambush the civvies."

"Roger that. Be careful, Baird." His radio clicked and Anya was gone. Baird wasn't sure if it was from Prescott looming over her shoulder or trying to keep tabs on Gears, or even just the idea of Marcus being Marcus and stealing a Brumak, but Anya sounded frazzled. It wasn't like her and that worried Baird. She was supposed to be the voice of reason, the one that promised everything would be okay; to hear her overwhelmed made him feel weak and unsure.

Baird jogged down the sidewalk to the front of the small checkpoint where several of Sharle's emergency management crew were getting names of civilians before letting them pass; it was all overseen by a nearby major sitting on the deck of a Raven.

Baird saluted. "Sir, I'm on my way back to Command for the bomb. Someone needs to light a fire under these civvies or else they'll drown."

"I heard," the major replied and shook his head. "The Lightmass is almost ready and we're still getting people on boats."

"Hey, don't be afraid to shove 'em on board and get names later." Baird gave another hurried salute, unsure of why he bothered, and ran north toward Command.

When he was a child, he wanted nothing more than to move away from Tollen—maybe Tyrus altogether. But now that the last habitable area was about the go under, he found himself wanting to stay. What would they do once they were off Jacinto? How would they survive? Sure, they already had rations safely stored on a boat, but for how long could they last? It was a crazy leap of faith for the COG and Baird hated the unknown. He wanted to know that when he woke up tomorrow—if he woke up tomorrow—that he wouldn't have to move around anymore, that his life would even out and everything would be fine.

Ha, yeah, and sinking Jacinto will end this war.