GWENEVERE MARKEY It’s Never Too Late to Change
General Stricken hit the table with his baton. “Here!” He said, in his bellowing voice, “Is where we will strike tomorrow.” The valley was in between two mountains, the Hubaris army would be marching through the valley according to our spies in their network. The mountains would make it the perfect point to ambush their troops. They would never see us coming. “Meeting dismissed.” General Stricken yelled, and everyone filed their way out of the conference room. I walked back to the bunkhouses, which meant I had to walk through the cold winter snow to reach them. My shoes crunched underneath me and I could feel the snow melting through my shoes, soaking my socks. My bunk was nicer than some of the others. I didn’t have to share a room with anyone, which was a luxury many weren’t provided. It didn’t matter to the Hirabelds if you were young or old, poor or rich. Everyone was assigned their worth to the cause based on how helpful they were. I had given the Hirabelds information in exchange for this room. My sister was a very important person in the Hubaris army. She told me things. It felt bad to tell on her, but I didn’t like what she was doing. She was messing with the natural order of things. The Hirabelds have always ruled, and it will be that way for a very long time. I took off my soaked shoes and peeled off my wet socks and plopped down onto the bed. I needed to sleep. We had a big day ahead of us. The next morning, I was awakened by the siren. Living anywhere else, this would be a cause for concern, but this was the wakeup siren. It went off every day at 6:00 sharp. I threw back on my shoes and socks which had dried out and went to the armory. The armory was next to the conference rooms. It held all of our supplies and weapons. I grabbed a large gun, a sniper from the rack. General Stricken was shouting out orders as people filed into the room. I was instructed to march to the top of the mountains before the rest of the army came along with a squad of skilled shooters. From up there, we would be able to see their troops approach and could alert of any difference from the plan. I met my group outside by the gates to the base. I had only ever seen one of them before. Kilda. She was arguably the best shooter on the base. Kilda yelled directions at the guards manning the gates and the gate slid open with a metallic whirring noise. The snow was thick, and even with snowshoes and a parka on, it didn’t prevent the cold from getting to you. I was freezing, but complaining doesn’t help anything. I marched on with the rest of the squad for the mountain. It was only a couple miles from base. We had to get there before noon, and seeing as the sun wasn’t out yet, we were on track.
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