Generation Witch Year One

by Schuyler Thorpe

  “Coffee or tea?” He offered as a timely interruption.

  Rachel giggled. “Coffee. Please. Black. Two creams. One sugar.”

  The old man nodded. “Coming right up,” he said.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  The Ultimatum

  “Thank you for the timely meal,” Ashley said—patting her bloated stomach. “Much appreciated.”

  “Anytime.” Kara returned from the kitchen area—washing a few new plates in the process.

  “But you know…you never told me what you plan on doing with Tillie Gunderson—once the two of you meet for a second time.”

  “I plan on taking back what was supposed to be rightfully mine from the start,” the woman offered unpleasantly.

  “You realize I would object to that—right? The Dragon’s Tear is government—or should I say—military property. We can’t just simply turn things over to an operative such as yourself. The stone needs to be studied as well as protected—from curious eyes of course.”

  “You mean…hidden.” Ashley grumbled unhappily.

  “Well, it was in the past—before someone broke into the Lincoln Memorial and made off with the case which allegedly contained all six stones. Hard to believe no one but the nation’s sixteenth President and his administration knew about its true scope and depth. They even devised a plan to keep the stones hidden for all time as well. Would have worked, but some parties were too unquestionably…curious for their own good.

  “However, the Regency Council isn’t without some ideas or plans of its own. We’ll get the stone back and everything will be right as rain therein.”

  “What about the rumors and legends surrounding the stones themselves?” Ashley wanted to know.

  “Oh, you mean the fact that it may only be just one stone? The fabled stone of both power and creation?” Kara tossed out knowingly.

  “H-how did you know about that?”

  “The military kept an extensive database on the stone, its histories, and its current whereabouts for years on end—even before the fall of the old federal government.The Council came into possession of that information and knowledge after the National Charter of 2168 and the rest—as they say—is history.”

  “Sounds like you want the stone for yourself, girlfriend.” Ashley chuckled.

  “To be honest? Yes. I would. But I’m military now. And have to follow protocol to the letter. Orders as well.”

  “No duplicity on your part then?” The other woman brazenly teased.

  “No. And if you keep pushing the matter, I’ll just skip the dessert course later on and go straight to bed for the next five hours. Then you can hang out here all by your little lonesome. But as a gracious host, I‘ll give you a blanket and pillow to rest your weary head on before then.”

  “Pushy. Pushy.” Ashley giggled to herself. “Very well. In the spirit of solidarity, I’ll refrain from speaking about the stone in your august presence, Dragon Queen.”

  “Bite me. I’m more like a princess in my clan—if it were still around.”

  “No intention of sowing your wild oats and establishing a new one?”

  “My boyfriend wants to. Wants to spirit me away to merry old England of all places. But I’ve had my full share of England to last a lifetime. I love Jake dearly, but Old New York has been my home for awhile now. And that‘s where I am going to stay.”

  “I bet he’s disappointed.” Ashley said, after taking a seat at the island across from her.

  “Yes. But weren’t you watching some TV?”

  “Nothing good on—unless you count the contraband programming channels which I spotted on your satellite services provider.”

  “Government perks,” the other woman said cheerfully. “You should try it sometime. You’ve got the connections now as being an up and coming field agent for the Regency Council.”

  “Junior.” The woman groaned. “I have like three levels of access, one level of classification, but that’s it. Derrick Channing says that it’s only temporary until after Operation Tiger Shark finishes up. Then he’ll bump up my access privileges.”

  “Now who’s being pushy?” Kara playfully ribbed.

  “I’m serious. I thought I was going to be full blown MiB material like in the movies. Or X-Files at the least. But all I’ve been doing is screening incoming files for potential anomalies, being Derrick’s coffee girl when he needs a hit of caffeine, and running through an endless series of training drills.

  “I was only out in the field three times in the past four months—four if you count that little raucous we went through with Little Miss Witch a few nights ago. I thought I would at least surprise her and keep her off guard, but that little bitch surprised even me.

  “I never got a chance to turn her over to you in the ensuing melee. Of course, she had to pull out her trump card—that enchanted Gatling gun of hers. The one enchanted with a hell demon of war; Bruno.”

  Kara laughed for a moment while standing there with a small plate in hand and a dry dish cloth.

  “I thought hell demons of war had a more traditional name? Like Salek, or Diehl, or something?”

  “It was her late father’s idea from the beginning. She didn’t care much for her hell demon’s original name, so she started calling him Bruno. My guess is that she was watching a mobster movie from the middle 20th century. Al Capone or somebody. Maybe New York’s old Galvani crime syndicate family from the late 20th century. When the drug trade was a huge boom in those days—with traditional crime rates more rampant than they are today.” Ashley recalled from memory.

  “Well, our intended target is nothing short of youthful ambition or imagination. That’s for sure. But I did not want to find out what her little weapon would do. I’ve heard rumors of its strength and power—but nothing solid.”

  “Yes…the Apocalypse Gun.” The other woman breathed. “If it’s true that she harbors that war demon inside her weapon of choice—? We could all be in for some serious trouble. The whole city could be destroyed in the blink an eye. Far faster than those slug launchers you have primed and ready to take down the city with.”

  “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.” Kara argued firmly. “That girl will be mine before the day is out. And in custody of the Third Watch and the Regency Council. Mark my words. All you have to do is play your part as we agreed upon. I don’t want her to think she’s going to get out of this one easily.”

  Ashley cracked her knuckles. “Believe me. I owe her for making a complete fool of me out on the streets that night. And I intend to collect on that debt as well.”

  “Just don’t tip your hand too soon, or she’ll end the confrontation—and you—in a heartbeat.” Kara warned up front.

  “I’m perfectly well aware of what happens if I let my concentration and focus slip on the girl.” Ashley reassured her up front. “That won’t be a problem.”

  “Glad to hear it. Now…what you would like for dessert in a few minutes—once things have had a chance to settle? Chocolate satin crème pie or homemade strawberry shortcake?”

  The other woman paused for a moment to think that one over.

  “Would it be too much to ask for both?” She selfishly inquired. “The shrimp salad you fed me earlier went to a very happy place. But I’ve got more than enough room for dessert—as soon as I finish burping it off that is.”

  Her dinner companion chuckled. “A serving each it is.” Kara relented. “And I’ll make sure you start the operation off on a full stomach—at least.”

  “Thanks.” Ashley said—making room on the island counter for her two servings.

  “You?”

  “I’m going to eat till I pop. Being a dragon shifter takes a lot of calories. And since I am not quite immune to the cold weather as I would’ve liked, the extra fat goes a long way. A long way indeed.”

  “But you look so…good!” The other woman complimented openly. “Not so with me: I think I added about ten pounds since the new year got started. All those damned Valentine’s Day
chocolates have been a notorious weakness of mine. And they finally caught up with me. I’m still working them off though.”

  “Exercise or aerobics?”

  “Both. If I’m going to run the gauntlet tomorrow, I have to be in top form.”

  “Not before we start, I don’t think.” Kara playfully analyzed.

  “Hush.” Ashley said—sticking her tongue out at her in passing.

  “What about casting a Liberate incantation? Drop the weight that way?”

  “My mother said that was cheating,” the other woman sulked. “The body has to learn how to heal, to lose weight, to get into shape, and stay healthy. Using your magic just takes all of that away.”

  “I thought Rosa was more of a middle-of-the road kind of gal?” Kara mused openly in surprise.

  Ashley laughed. “My mother…she was a stickler for the rules and fond of the code. She believed that we would learn an invaluable lesson if we did things the old-fashioned way. Not what this new generation is being taught by either their elders or teachers and instructors at the Academy.” She told her.

  “I know. I’m dealing with one such straggler or rule breaker as the case may be. I have no idea why the Regency Council believes that adding her to the ranks is such a good idea. But orders are orders. We’ll cross that bridge when the time comes.”

  “Could be sooner than we both think—come to think of it.” Ashley said off hand. “Not just talking about the upcoming battle—but everything.”

  Kara nodded somberly. “The fallout from the Great War pushed everyone’s timetable up a notch. Now…we’re reaping what that conflict had sowed decades ago. And not a lot of it was good news. Not for humanity at first.”

  “No, but now we’re in a position to make amends and correct some grievous oversights.”

  “Providing things go according to plan. And we’ve already got a taste of what happens when things don’t—didn’t we?”

  Ashley hesitated for a brief moment, then nodded guiltily. “Yeah. That one was on me, I’m afraid. But in all honesty? I didn’t think it would have been that hard. The girl just surprised us both—that’s all.”

  “Which brings me to this part of Operation Tiger Shark: You need to be better at creating diversions than you are at playing Capture the Flag.” Kara reminded her staunchly—before serving her a piece of chocolate satin crème pie.

  Ashley nodded humbly—accepting both the woman’s words and her gift.

  “I thought I did. I really thought I did.” She admitted out into the open. “But in the end, there were so many unknown variables thrown into the mix. Like Number One: She wasn’t traveling alone like we had first thought when the armies of the Third Watch first entered the city proper.”

  Kara smiled gently. “That was to be expected. We needed to catch the Witch’s Guild of Lower Tam off guard. But we didn’t realize most had deserted the place—leaving only a few stragglers behind. However, not all is lost, Ashley. We now have your colleague’s daughter in the crosshairs and in a matter of hours, we will flush her out along with those deplorable excuses for human sympathizers of the Resistance and the Underground beneath the city’s streets.”

  “You’re going to destroy one of their quads as retribution? Or as a message?” Ashley said—a bit horrified by the thought of taking innocent life.

  “When they decided to harbor a witch, that’s when they crossed the line.” Kara reminded her coldly. “Our enemies must be punished. And those who give them safe harbor will be of no exception to our rules. Justice will prevail.”

  The other woman paused in mid-bite, not sure if this was something she originally signed up for.

  But Kara Plummer was watching her closely.

  “Don’t get cold feet on me now. You know how much I hate that. And if you think about double-crossing me…? That’s a folly you will pay for with your life. You may be an agent, but you are also a witch. And still under the guidelines of war, that makes you suspect. A possible enemy in the midst. Traitor as well.”

  The other woman nodded contritely.

  “I understand.” She said softly.

  “Don’t think about what you have to do to secure a victory for us. Do it for the rights of all humans that have suffered long enough under unfair laws and the oppressors of their society. We will take back what was rightfully ours in the first place. Humanity will at long last prevail. And I will make sure that happens—with or without your help. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

  Another quiet nod from the other end of the island.

  “I promise…I won’t fail you this time.” Ashley abruptly vowed. “I’m not like all the other High Witches. I know what I have to do. This time, I will succeed above all else.”

  “That’s what I want to hear from you: Team spirit. But if you’re worried about failing, join the club. I’m not going to penalize for that. What I will come down on is people not willing to commit themselves to the cause or sacrifice what is most precious to them in hindsight so that everyone benefits in the end. I do not tolerate selfishness in the ranks.”

  “But duty, honor, sacrifice, valor…what about empathy?” She added on as a lasting thought.

  Kara laughed. “Empathy has no place in this world of things. It’s survival of the fittest. And those that survive…call the shots. The weak will perish. Always.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  The Price

  Down the rabbit hole she went—just like in Lewis Carroll’s fable Alice in Wonderland.

  Only this time, it was the same entrance to Level One which stretched on forever. The city was still there, the people as well—but everything took on an eternal aspect of space and time.

  This time, things were much farther away than they first appeared. And the girl wasn’t sure how this was possible. She had counted down to the last possible second of when the lift would finally dump her out into the busy streets of the underground city, but things apparently went on longer than she would have liked.

  Then she was met up with an elevator shaft which wasn’t there before and it took her all the way down into this nightmarish gulf which reeked of dead flesh and machine lubricant—topped off by the hint of spice and lavender.

  Tillie wasn’t too sure how that was possible—except that particular scent was much closer than she would have liked. And all the hairs on her neck stood straight up as a result.

  Her body tensed, she had her incantations charged and ready—ready to lash out at her unsuspecting foes and believing that she would win the day for everyone living in this part of the city: All magical kinsfolk and magical familiars.

  But cold laughter greeted her. She wasn’t sure where it was coming from. But she knew that voice! That haunting voice of absolute authority—which permeated her senses and her will to keep going—even as the lift finally stopped and delivered to her overall destination.

  But the stench of decay and engine lubricant never went away. It was with her the entire time it took for her to canvass the corridor which was dark, muted, and grey in color; save for the plush red carpeting.

  But every door led to its own Little Shop of Horrors, every window showed the results of her kind’s ultimate defiance against humanity, the Supreme Chancellor, the armies of the Third Watch, and even the Regency Council’s.

  Punishment was swift and it was severe.

  But Tillie never made it to the end. She found herself being unceremoniously escorted into a waiting room. One that had one single table, two chairs and her grandmother’s cloak hung in the background.

  The girl looked down at herself and found herself attired in her pajamas, then a prison work suit as she was gruffly dumped into the chair closest to the wall—while being told never to make a sound. No noise.

  “The dragons hate noise,” her handler told her on no uncertain terms. “And the one that wants to you wants to make sure you know that.”

  Then she was left alone. To her own terrified thoughts of entrapment and despair. She desperately wanted out. B
ut she couldn’t find the exit now.

  The room had been sealed off. Even the windows were now gone.

  But the note that had been left on the table told her that she was now safe from all harm and she would continue to be safe so long as she never made a noise.

  But the girl knew she was much stronger and much more braver than that. She leapt into action. Donning her grandmother’s cloak, Tillie Gunderson found herself in her old clothes in the next instant and a small portal opened up in the wall and she opened the door as quietly as she could possibly be without alerting whatever was out in the corridor at the end.

  The place was now backlit like it had fallen straight into hell itself: All red and murky. Fire and brimstone galore. The floor beneath her feet slick with moisture and puddles of steaming water.

  But whatever was at the end of the hallway didn’t care if she knew that or not.

  Its dead, red eyes glowed with sinister purpose, fire gushing out of its two nostril cavities, the bulk of its seemingly ungainly body glued to that part of the floor in an instant.

  “You didn’t stay quiet.” It said in a loud voice. “I could hear you making racket in that God forsaken room back there. Why didn’t you stay quiet?!?”

  “I didn’t know,” the girl said in defense of herself—adopting a familiar stance. “But I did not want to be in there any longer.”

  “Then you will die with the others who dared to defy me on this day. Your charred bones will make an excellent addition to my wall of trophies behind you.”

  Tillie didn’t look. She didn’t want to look. Instead, she took two measured steps forward—putting some distance between the possibly macabre display behind her and her opponent.

  “You are not the boss of me.” The girl voiced in defiance. “You do not belong here no more than I do.”

  The dragon-thing laughed in her face.

  “Oh, I don’t—do I? Silly girl. This has been my home for quite some time. More so since the change took place.” It said matter-of-factly.