In the year 2057, the lines between counties blurred not with maps, but with the iron rails that snaked through the land, carrying life itself. Westchester had long been the jewel of the Hudson Valley—a beacon of prosperity. But its wealth came from something deeper: control over the critical rail lines that funneled resources, workers, and power from neighboring counties. Rockland, on the other hand, had always been the underdog—a county with land, but no leverage. That was until the Westchester-Rockland Accord.
What began as a quiet agreement to merge resources soon erupted into something more aggressive: the annexation of Rockland by Westchester. The smaller county couldn’t resist the promise of Westchester’s wealth, but as the ink dried, whispers of rebellion simmered in the north. Nassau and Suffolk, watching from Long Island, saw a future where Westchester’s grip extended south, pulling them into the fold. The war for the right to annex was about to ignite.
Westchester’s first move was simple: take control of the main rail hubs. The Hudson Line was the artery of the region, and the other counties knew it. With the annexation, Westchester declared all railroads west of the river as their own, including those that ran through Dutchess and Putnam. Trains transporting goods from Long Island to upstate were halted at the border, redirected to new checkpoints established by Westchester’s elite militia.
“We need those tracks back,” growled Nassau’s governor, pacing the council chamber. “If Westchester controls the rail, they control everything. Food, fuel, communication—it all moves by train.”
But Westchester wasn’t only after rail lines. It wanted the ports. The harbors of Suffolk County were rich with international trade, and the county’s leadership knew they were next. What Suffolk didn’t know was how close Westchester already was to claiming victory.
It was in the dead of night, under a sky shrouded in fog, that the battle began. The Long Island Railroad’s central hub in Ronkonkoma was the target. Westchester had sent a stealth force, seizing the station without a single shot fired. By morning, the commuters were greeted with the sight of Westchester flags waving in the breeze as armored trains guarded the lines.
Suffolk’s retaliation was swift. Troops were deployed, not soldiers but rail workers who knew the tracks better than any fighter. In guerrilla-style attacks, they sabotaged the rails, detonating explosives under critical junctions, stopping the flow of trains from Westchester to Nassau. For weeks, skirmishes broke out along the rail lines. Sabotaged tracks, derailed trains, and hijacked freight crippled Westchester’s expansion plans.
Meanwhile, in Rockland, the people were restless. Though Westchester had annexed the county on paper, the citizens resisted. In the town of Nyack, protesters swarmed the stations, blocking trains and setting up barricades. A resistance movement known as the “Rail Guard” emerged, determined to stop Westchester from fully annexing their home.
Inside Westchester’s war room, County Executive Martin Alvarez watched the map light up with points of conflict. Rockland was resisting harder than expected, and the sabotage in Suffolk had slowed the invasion. The railways were supposed to be their path to dominance, but they had turned into a battlefield instead.
“We need to secure the Hudson Line,” Alvarez muttered, narrowing his eyes. “Without that, we lose our advantage. Send in the elite.”
Westchester’s militia launched a full assault on the rail bridges spanning the Hudson River. The Poughkeepsie Bridge, once a scenic route, now became the front line of a high-tech war. Drones patrolled the skies, while soldiers on the ground fought to hold the tracks.
But just as Westchester thought it had control, a new threat emerged. Dutchess County, long neutral in the conflict, decided it had had enough. Its governor, sick of watching the carnage, declared an embargo on Westchester. No trains, no resources, no cooperation. The Hudson Line was cut off, and Westchester found itself surrounded by enemies on all sides.
The war raged on, but it became clear that the true battleground was not the land itself, but the rails that connected them. Whoever controlled the railways controlled the future. And in this war for annexation, the iron pathways would decide the fate of the counties.
In the end, the counties learned that the railways weren’t just tracks—they were lifelines. And in their thirst for expansion, Westchester had ignited a conflict that no one could win.
Author Info:
Max E. Guttman
Max E. Guttman is the owner of Mindful Living LCSW, PLLC, a private mental health practice in Yonkers, New York.
