The Lightning Lords

by M C Rooney

  Buzz looked at the small disk in reverence as the professor continued his search through his toolbox.

  “Ah, here it is,” he finally said and handed him over an even smaller disk.

  “What is this?” Buzz asked.

  “Everything, I think. Every detail on how and where it needs to be placed. How it works and what it does. Even the design for this old beauty,” the professor said as he looked lovingly at the huge tower. “But I think you already know what terrain to use it in, so that should be a start.”

  “And when I get the electricity going through the ground and air, I can find a computer and place the disk in it, and it should work right away,” said Buzz.

  “Exactly,” replied the professor.

  “And what do the written letters MC mean on the disk?” he asked.

  McLaren, it means McLaren, the voice snapped.

  “It’s short for McLaren … or maybe McShane the Insane.”

  Where did you hear that name?

  “You said it before,” the professor replied.

  I did not.

  “Yes, you did, in the meeting before.”

  Oh … yes, I did.

  The professor smiled smugly, then realised Buzz and his friends were all staring at him.

  “I guess this is goodbye, then,” he said quickly.

  Buzz looked uncertainly at him. “Are you talking to me now?”

  “Of course I am; who else would I be talking to?”

  Me!

  “Shut up.”

  “Nobody, of course,” Buzz replied with embarrassment.

  Of course.

  “Goodbye, then, Professor,” he said, shaking his hand. “Are you sure you still want to stay here?”

  “Yes,” the professor replied. “I must wait for Molly.”

  Dear Molly.

  “Dear Molly.”

  “Then tell her she fought well,” said Buzz.

  “I will,” the professor replied.

  “Fergus, Fraser,” Buzz called out. “It’s time to say goodbye.”

  And the brothers ran towards him as they covered their lower faces with their scarves so they could say goodbye to their fathers. And as a few of his men gave him strange looks and picked up the small tower to walk westwards, the professor noticed an old radio lying on the ground.

  “C’mon, you silly old duffer,” Carter said as he half-carried his friend to the end of the camp.

  Hockey was still as sick as a dog, but Carter thought he was showing signs of improvement.

  “I don’t want the boy to see me like this,” Hockey grumbled.

  “You want to say goodbye, though, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Of course … but … saying goodbye and your sons …” Hockey said, and he wasn’t thinking of Fergus and Fraser.

  “My boys knew what they were getting into,” Carter said sadly. “They knew the price of failure.”

  “Still, I am sorry,” Hockey said quietly as they reached the outer camp.

  “Thanks, mate. Now say something nice to Buzz before he goes,” Carter said.

  Hockey grunted and tried to stand taller as he watched the three boys come within ten metres of them.

  Buzz and his friends came to a halt as they reached the sick side of the camp. He was shocked as to how gaunt his father looked, and instead of greeting him, he stood still in an uncomfortable silence.

  The Carters talked freely, as they always did.

  “Dad,” Fergus and Fraser called out. Carter could tell the boys were upset, even though they had half of their faces covered.

  “My boys,” Carter replied with a smile. “I hear you are heading back to the hometown. Such bad memories for me and Hockey, but a new beginning for you.”

  “Yes, Dad,” replied Fergus. “Buzz thought it would be good for us to go home, but not where the Martins are, of course.”

  “Avoid them, Buzz.” Hockey grunted and tried not to cough his lungs up. “They are cunts of the highest level.”

  “Yes, Father,” Buzz replied.

  “We sent Flynn to keep an eye on them, Buzz,” said Carter.

  “Thank you,” he replied. Flynn was the sort of guy who could cause a lot of trouble and manage to pass the blame onto the next man. If the Martins were to come looking for them, Flynn would let them know somehow.

  “Perhaps you could visit that tree-hugging hippy village on your way to the coast,” Hockey said. He had been thinking about his family a lot the last few days. Coming close to death does that to any man. “Your mother would be pleased to see you … and your sisters.”

  Buzz was surprised at the grief in his father’s voice. It seemed like the illness had softened his heart a little, if that was humanly possible.

  “I will,” Buzz replied and felt a lump in his throat at the thought that this was possibly a last goodbye.

  He needed to know.

  “Am I doing the right thing, Father?” he asked.

  Hockey managed a nod. “Yes, Son,” he said. “You’re doing the right thing for our people with the separation. Also, the knowledge you obtained from the Professor was a godsend, and maybe that was the reason for us coming here. A good leader you will make. It’s time for a change.”

  Buzz was shocked again into silence. His father had complimented him for the first time in his life; he was talking about fate, and he had actually said the words ‘our people’.

  “I am sorry about Frank and Fred,” Buzz said to Carter.

  “Don’t be, Chief,” Carter replied firmly. “It was you or them. You had no choice.”

  Buzz felt a wave of relief. He did respect Carter and would not want any ill feeling between them on their last meeting.

  “Will you follow us, Dad?” Fraser asked in a croaky voice.

  “If we live, Son,” Carter said with tears in his eyes. “If we live, my boys.”

  “Then this is goodbye,” said Fergus.

  “Maybe, but who knows,” Carter replied. “You never know what the future holds, but you do know today that I am proud of you and that I love you.”

  Fergus and Fraser looked down at the ground, trying to cover their own tears.

  “So then,” Carter said as he looked at Hockey and Buzz.

  But both only looked at each other in silence.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Carter said, shaking his head. “You’re as bad as each other.”

  “Bye, Dad,” Buzz finally said.

  “Goodbye, Son. Goodbye, Chief,” Hockey said.

  And as the three boys turned and left, only Carter could hear Hockey whisper, “I love you, boy.”

  The Easterners

  “So let me get this straight,” Governor George Abercrombie said as he glared at his son, “you invited the girl, a tried-and-true warrior, to have a glass of wine, on your own, with the suit just lying a few metres away. Do I have these facts straight, Ned?”

  Edward Abercrombie rode on his horse with his new jacket and tried with all of his might not to touch the seven stitches that went across the top of his head. The so-called doctor had had to shave his hair off where the stitches needed to be sewn, so for the moment, he looked like he had a bald spot.

  I’m going to kill that bitch, he thought in pure hate, and he knew in his heart that he actually did want to kill her.

  “It seemed like a good idea, Father,” he replied. “The girl wasn’t giving out all the information on the uses of the suit. I thought—”

  “Oh, I know what you thought,” his father said. “Half the girls in our hometown know what you think.”

  Half the girls! I wish, Edward thought with an inward grin, and then felt strangely uncomfortable as to how regularly he used women. But that little whore had shamed him in front of his entire troops. He would do what he must to regain his honour … and the suit.

  “Are you sure there was no trace of the girl?” the governor asked Lieutenant Doyle.

  “No, Governor,” Doyle replied with a small grin, which he had worn on his face ever since he hea
rd the news. “It appears she disappeared completely.”

  “What about her friends?” Todd Abercrombie asked.

  “They have gone as well,” Doyle replied. “And we have reports of three horses missing.”

  “Only three?” said Todd with a thoughtful expression.

  “Three or four, or twenty-eight,” the governor ground out between gritted teeth. “It doesn’t bloody matter. That girl has gone to warn her beloved Professor, and we may have come all this way for nothing.”

  “Not for nothing,” replied Edward. “We still need to secure the tower.”

  “But what use is it if we don’t know how it works?” the governor replied.

  The party stopped talking as a scout arrived with news of what lay ahead.

  “Governor,” a young man, oddly named Snoop Matthews, said, “the numbers of the Westerners are much less than we initially thought.”

  “What do you mean?” the governor asked.

  “There appears to be only a few dozen people walking around,” Matthews replied.

  “What do you mean, walking?” asked Todd.

  “There is a camp that looks completely filthy, sir,” the scout replied. “A lot of the people seem to be lying on the ground or in their tents. They look sick, sir. Like there is a plague going through their tribe.”

  “May I advise caution, sir?” said Doyle, who no longer seemed to be grinning, but had his soldier’s face back on.

  “A quick charge, and we will run through them and capture the Professor,” said Edward.

  The governor considered these two opposing suggestions and, as always, looked to his nephew for guidance.

  “I advise caution as well, Governor,” Todd said. “Observe first, then make a decision.”

  “As always, you provide good advice and example, Nephew,” the governor said with a glare at his son. “We will proceed cautiously.”

  Edward would have objected if not for the fact that he was holding one hand desperately to stop scratching at his scar. At least he didn’t have to toy with the sewn hole of his old jacket anymore.

  The Tower Lands

  Sam was panting from their fast run as he surveyed what was left of their camp. The tower lightning raged on with its never-ending battle with the clouds, but most of the people had now left.

  “Where the hell has everyone gone?” he asked. His burned arm was killing him, and he was almost looking forward to a battle to stop him thinking about the pain.

  Almost.

  “There are still some people here, Sam,” replied Alex, “but their camp looks messy and disordered.”

  “And they have their faces covered up,” Chris added.

  “Disease,” Ian said as he picked his nose.

  “What was that?” asked Chris.

  “Tom said disease,” replied Ian.

  “Bloody hell, he did too,” exclaimed Sam.

  Everybody looked at each other in shock, not just for the discovery of a deadly disease spreading through their tribe, but also the fact that Ian had come to the correct conclusion before anybody else. It all didn’t bode well for a good day.

  “What do we do?” asked Alex.

  “We have to warn them,” said Sam.

  “Tell Hockey,” said Ian.

  “What?” Chris replied.

  “Tell Hockey.”

  “If we can find him,” replied Chris.

  “There he is.”

  And as Ian pointed, and everybody tried to avoid the big layer of snot on the edge of his finger, they saw a huge man, who appeared to be coughing his guts up, leaning over outside a tent.

  “Hockey is here,” Chris said in shock.

  “We need to tell him about the Easterners,” said Sam.

  And as they ran towards the diseased camp, Alex said, “Ian was right.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Sam replied quietly.

  “Twice,” Alex replied in amazement.

  “We’re fucked,” said Sam.

  Carter watched as his friend Hockey heaved up another mass of mucus from his lungs. I guess that means he is getting better, he hoped. It was gross to watch, but rather that than death.

  “Oh, fuck me,” Hockey growled. “This has got to end.”

  Carter smiled. It was horrible the pain his old mate was going through, but the fact that he was getting grumpy suggested he was on the mend.

  “Just keep hacking it up,” Carter said with a smile. “Better out than in, as the old saying went.”

  “Oh, fuck you, John,” Hockey grunted.

  But he did as he was told and blew out sharp, long breaths that seemed to squeeze his lungs, which were followed by a coughing fit of gigantic proportions. Carter would then intermittently pound his back with his cupped hands in the hope of jolting any more mucus from his lungs. God knows if it worked, but anything was worth a try. As he watched Hockey’s latest coughing fit, he noticed four young men running towards them.

  “Heads-up, old boy, we have company,” he said to Hockey.

  Hockey lifted himself vertically and wiped his hand across his mouth.

  “That’s Sam, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “He left with twenty and is back with three,” replied Carter.

  “I wonder where Wayne Jackman is.”

  “Stop where you are,” Hockey called out to them.

  They did stop, but they looked as if they wanted to come closer.

  “This place is quarantined,” Hockey said.

  “What?” Sam called.

  “Oh, just stay the fuck away,” Hockey said with a growl. “We’re all fucking sick; didn’t you notice all the face coverings we have now?” Plus the green pile of mucus at my feet, he thought with a grimace.

  “We have to talk, Chief,” Sam replied.

  “I’m not the chief anymore,” Hockey replied and felt good at saying that. “Buzz rules now and has headed back west. You should head off and join him; they only left an hour ago.”

  “I will,” Sam replied. “But you have to come as well.”

  “Why?” Carter asked. Sam looked too worried for his liking.

  “Because there is an army of two thousand headed in this direction.”

  “What the fuck!” Hockey exclaimed.

  “Are you on drugs, Sam?” asked Carter.

  “What are drugs?” Sam asked.

  “Never mind, boy,” Carter replied. “But two thousand is a big number nowadays.”

  “Not from the east,” Sam replied. “We have been told they survived and thrived and are headed here.”

  “Why?” Hockey asked, but he knew the answer as soon as he asked. The bloody tower! “Wait there. I’ll get some clean headscarves, then we can talk.”

  Sam and his friends stood in front of Hockey’s tent with scarves wrapped around their heads and mouths. The old man looked gaunt and frail, but Carter still looked his old chipper self. On the ground in front of his tent was a large amount of green mucus, and Sam was hoping Ian didn’t throw himself on it out of pure joy. There were burned bodies in a pile nearby, and maybe thirty men and women were walking around doing chores, but he thought there must have been at least a hundred people in the tents, judging by the coughing and moaning going on.

  “What happened to your arm, Sam?” Hockey asked.

  “Rodent,” he replied. “He killed most of us. His suit seemed to be more powerful than I have ever seen it.”

  “Is he dead?” Carter asked.

  “Yes, a Southerner called Tom Dayton killed him, with my help,” replied Sam.

  Hockey nodded his head, and for a moment, he looked sad.

  Was Hockey sad that Rodent was dead? Sam wondered in disbelief. He felt like he had returned to a different world entirely. “The suit was destroyed as well,” Sam continued.

  “Better off without them,” Carter replied.

  “Them?” asked Chris.

  “Yes, Buzz destroyed his as well.”

  Sam was not surprised. “Power corrupts,” he mumbled, and Carter and Hockey both g
ave him approving looks.

  “And Wayne Jackman?” asked Hockey. He was keen to know that the last of Buzz’s rivals was dead.

  “He tried to kill me for the chance to get the suit,” Sam said. “My brother and I didn’t appreciate it.”

  “That’s good,” Carter replied. “So all the past is cleared up; now, what about the future?”

  “We ran into three strangers who were on the run from an Easterner army,” Alex said. “They appeared genuine in their belief that an army was heading here.”

  “Well, if they want the tower and the Professor, they are welcome to it,” replied Hockey.

  “I know, but I remember our grandfather used to say ‘shoot first, ask questions later’,” replied Alex, “and I think that might be their attitude.”

  Hockey and Carter shared a look. That seemed to be a very astute description of how humans acted in this situation.

  “Our people are too sick to move, though, Hockey; that’s the problem,” Carter said.

  “Well, they are going to have to,” Hockey replied.

  “How can we carry them?” Carter argued. “They outnumber the healthy.”

  “Horses,” Ian said.

  Everybody looked at him.

  “Horses!” Hockey replied. “They would be perfect, but we haven’t seen horses in decades.”

  Ian looked at his old chief and pointed to the horizon.

  “Horses,” he said again.

  Everybody now looked over at the horizon, and along the eastern plains stood hundreds and hundreds of horses, and on top of them were hundreds and hundreds of soldiers.

  “Gather every sick person who can stand, and get them out here at the front,” commanded Hockey.

  “Why?” replied Alex.

  “We are all going to stand here and produce as much phlegm as we can.” Hockey grunted and produced what could almost be considered a smile.

  “What!” Sam exclaimed. Why is today all about boogers? No doubt Ian was digging deep, eager to get started.

  “Sickness is our only defence now,” Carter replied. “Now move, all of you.”

  “Wait,” Hockey called out and gave another command as he looked at the horses. “First, bring me the funeral pyre.”

  A bolt of lightning then went into the sky as always, but this time, everybody on the plains was surprised when the heavens opened up, and it began to pour with rain.