Gaslit Revolution

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Gaslit Revolution Page 26

by Jason Gilbert

Danwood. Christ.

  “We gotta move,” Kane said, pulling away from Tabitha and looked between her and Wil. “We gotta move now!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Wil turned to Kane. He looked at her, his heart racing as the noise of the authorities closing in grew more distinct, more present in his hearing. They had less than a minute. People were beginning to shout, point, talk amongst each other. Some began to argue, others shouting back.

  “The Special Forces had a Magician?!”

  “How long have they been lying to us?”

  “They were infiltrated! They’re here to kill us!”

  Wil shook her head.

  “You hear them people,” she said, nodding her head to the crowds. “Hear they fear. They loathin’.”

  “We have to run, Wil,” Kane said. “They’ll kill us.”

  “I ain’t goin’ with you, Kane Shepherd,” said Wil. “Not without my Lexi. She down there, and here I am up here.” Wil shook her head again. “Ain’t gonna work.” She stepped back, her arms out. “Them people down there, they seek me out. Like the rest who in need. Those who need guidance. Protection. Like you and your Tabitha-girl.” She turned in a slow circle, her face drawn in a mad grin.

  “Kane,” Tabitha whispered. “What’s she doing?”

  “Listen here, you!” Wil shouted at the crowds. “Those less fortunate. Those pressed down. Those who suffer under the hand of them rich men in they ivory towers. Now your time. Follow me and be safe. They come lookin’, they find me. They find me, they all pay!”

  Wil stamped her foot, the ground shaking as if a giant had stomped down. The people in the streets cried out, backed away as vines grew from the asphalt, coiled around Wil as they moved upwards, raising her in the air. She looked over her shoulder at Kane, her eyes flashing. “You better run.”

  Wilhelmina blinked out of sight, the vines collapsing to the ground and rotting away.

  Tabitha moved to Kane.

  “I’ll transp–”

  A bullet sang by, blew out a gas lamp nearby. Another went through a window. People screamed, ducked and ran as more shots were fired. Kane grabbed Tabitha by the hand, turned and ran in the opposite direction. He barreled through a group on the sidewalks still transfixed by the disappearing Marsh Witch. Kane heard shouts, heard guns made ready. Reports. Bullets flying. One zipped by his ear, another glanced off a building wall as he and Tabitha ran down the street. Tabitha squeezed his hand and shouted as Kane led her around a corner. He looked ahead as a clockwork horse crossed the street in front of them, the NCPD emblem on its chassis, the coach behind it full of police with Templars on each corner and a Templar Gunman driving. They saw them, their beaked plague masks staring at them as they pulled their guns. The coach stopped and six officers stepped out. One of them shouted at Kane and Tabitha.

  “Hold it!”

  Kane looked behind him, saw the officers on foot running up also accompanied by Templar Gunmen.

  Tabitha stepped into him, put her arms around him as she cried out.

  “Draugalega Ferðast!”

  Kane felt himself lifted straight upwards, Tabitha’s body going cold as the chill surrounded them. He looked up just in time to see the airship above them.

  The police airship.

  “Tabitha!” he shouted as they passed through the bottom of the vessel and collapsed on the deck. The steel grating was hard and unforgiving. Kane rolled onto his side and got to his feet, helping Tabitha up along the way.

  “We’re on a fucking police ship,” Kane said, immediately kicking himself for sounding so harsh with her. “What the hell, Tabitha?!”

  “It was the first place I saw to take us,” she argued. “We’re in the cargo hold.”

  “We’re deep shit,” Kane said. “Get us out of here!”

  Kane heard footsteps from above. Voices. Down here. I heard it down here.

  He looked at Tabitha. “The Mermaid. Get us to the Mermaid!”

  Tabitha looked at him.

  “That won’t look suspicious,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Jeez, Kane. For someone so smart, you can be kind of dumb.”

  “You got a better idea?” Kane snapped.

  Tabitha grabbed his hand.

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” She held him tight as she muttered her travel spell. Kane heard the sound of a door opening, of boots on metal stairways instantly gone from his hearing as they sailed through the air over the city below.

  “A church?” Kane looked around the sanctuary, fighting to keep his voice a whisper. The room was empty, only a few candles at the foot of a statue of Mary lit. The water font at the back was still, the water undisturbed in the large marble basin. The room was large, old and traditional. It looked like every Catholic church Kane had seen growing up: the crucifix hanging above the pulpit, the candles by the altar, the small cabinet atop the table that held the communion wine. He saw the stations of the cross depicted in the stained glass windows around the room, the sconces on the wall barely lighting the sanctuary as he looked back at Tabitha.

  She shrugged.

  “I figured you’d feel safer here,” she said. “Since you believe in this stuff. Besides, they can’t follow us here. It’s the rules.”

  “Sanctuary was only for those who were falsely accused by the government,” Kane said. “And that was ages ago. I don’t think it applies here.”

  She shrugged again.

  “It’s worth trying,” she said. “I read about it somewhere. Besides, I don’t think they’d desecrate a church.”

  Kane went to the water basin, dipped his fingers in, and made the sign of the cross as he faced the altar and knelt. He stood and walked to the front, looking around for another door that could lead them out. They had to keep moving. It wouldn’t take long for them to be found. The police would be all over the city. The Special Forces would join with them now that their General was dead. They’d take Gentry’s lead.

  And they would have the might of the Oligarchy behind them.

  It all made Kane sick.

  Tabitha slid into the pew next to him.

  “I’ve never been in a Catholic church before,” she said. “It’s beautiful.”

  “I’m sure Viking shrines are nice, too,” Kane said.

  “Oh, we just worship in open air,” Tabitha said. “No shrines or anything. Runestones and the outside is all we need.” She looked around. “Though rainy days are a little inconvenient.”

  Kane chuckled in spite of himself. Tabitha nudged him with her shoulder.

  “See? I knew I could make you laugh!” She looked around as Kane looked at her. She was scratched and bruised, her hair dirty. But she still made his heart beat a little faster.

  Made him want to take her and just vanish.

  Chesterfield was right: this was war. It was a war that Kane hadn’t wanted any part of. There had been victories, but there had been far more losses. The Revolution had been crushed with little effort. And Chris’s band of Magicians trying to bring back a new Revolution, to keep it going, kept meeting with casualty after casualty. Tragedy after tragedy. Hoyle being in the mix helped, but he’d lost his entire group. Captain Bill had fled South. They had no one left.

  It would be so easy. Have Tabitha sneak them aboard a transport headed South. Find a community where no one knew who they were. Hide away. Let the war settle itself. Let the Revolution meet its end.

  Raise his child.

  And what if the Oligarchs won? The old rich men would have the country with no resistance. What would stop them from coming South? Enslaving the people down there again? Finding Kane, Tabitha, and the baby? Killing anyone who’d seen them? Gentry would lead the assault, of course. He was their weapon. Their own personal Magician.

  Tabitha’s voice rolled in his mind.

  I can’t think of a better father.

  Something sparked in Kane, something louder than his doubts. Something he didn’t expect of himself. A realization. A purpose. He couldn’t leave. He couldn
’t let them win. He couldn’t let them hurt any more people. Couldn’t let them hurt Tabitha and the little girl growing inside her.

  He wouldn’t.

  Something moved in the shadows up near the altar. Kane put his hand on Tabitha’s leg to get her attention, then put his finger to his mouth, signaling for her to keep quiet. He held still, his eyes up front as an older priest came out from behind the large back wall, his hands clasped in prayer, is head down as he muttered in Latin. His hair was thin, revealing a liver-spotted scalp beneath the white strands. He was hunched over, walking slowly as if each step was painful. He turned and knelt down in front of the crucifix before turning and kneeling at the altar, kissing the wood before standing back up and opening the book that lay there. He read quietly for a moment, closed the book back, then looked directly at Kane and Tabitha.

  “Peace be with you, my children,” he said. “I’ve known you were here for some time now. There’s no need to hide.”

  “We’ll be on our way soon, Father,” Kane said. “We want no trouble.”

  The priest nodded.

  “Understood,” he said. “But do know that I have notified the police. They will be here soon.”

  Tabitha went rigid next to Kane, gripping his arm tightly.

  Kane shook his head.

  “Wish you hadn’t done that, Father,” Kane said. “That’s who we’re running from.”

  The priest smiled.

  “That is why I was selective about who I notified.”

  Kane raised an eyebrow as the priest knelt down and kissed the altar again. The old man turned, knelt before the crucifix, rose, and began to make his way back where he’d come from. Kane got to his feet.

  “Wait,” he called out. “Father, wait! Who did you call?”

  Tabitha stood with him.

  “Why do you keep calling him ‘Father?’” she asked. “Is that your dad?”

  Kane glanced at her, shook his head.

  “No, it’s what…it’s a Catholic thing,” he made for the altar. “Father!”

  The doors at the back of the sanctuary opened. Kane spun as Tabitha conjured an ice spear. He went back to her, put his hand on her arm.

  “No,” he said. “Wait.”

  Two officers walked into the church. They had their sidearms aimed. Both of them were in blue uniforms, both younger men. Kane recognized them in passing during his visits to the department, but didn’t know them by name. He stepped forward, clearing his throat.

  “We claim Sanctuary,” he said. “You have no right to take us from here.”

  They stopped and looked at each other, lowering their guns. The taller one looked back at Kane.

  “That’s a thing? Still?”

  Tabitha stood tall.

  “That’s right! It is a thing!”

  The officers looked at each other again and holstered their revolvers. The taller one stepped forward, his hands out to show that he was unarmed.

  “We’re not here to take you anywhere,” he said. “But we do what you to come with us. Preferably without us having to insist.”

  Kane narrowed his eyes at the kid.

  “And why the hell would we do that?”

  The kid gave him a small smile.

  “Because the boss lady wants to have a word with you. She’s outside in the coach.”

  The rain outside was nothing more than a light mist, though still acidic and dangerous to the eyes. Kane and Tabitha wore their goggles as they left the church, the two officers behind them. Kane saw the coach parked in the street, the NCPD emblem on the door and on the clockwork horses that pulled it. The door opened, and another man leaned out, also wearing goggles.

  “Kane Shepherd and Tabitha Drake?”

  Kane stopped a few feet away, Tabitha by his side.

  “Yeah,” Kane said. “Who wants to know?”

  A familiar voice called from inside the coach, Southern with a tone that demanded respect or good old-fashioned smack to the head was sure to come.

  “Kane Shepherd, you get that girl out of that rain right now or, so help me God, I will tan your hide!”

  Kane helped Tabitha into the coach, following after and closing the door behind them. He sat down on the bench and took his goggles off. Relief settled in his chest.

  “Hey, Cybil.”

  Cybil looked at him and smiled, her hawkish features made even more so by her dark police uniform. She tossed a newspaper at Kane.

  “It’s been an hour since your little incident in the uptown area,” she said. “The newsies don’t waste any time.”

  Kane looked down at the headline.

  Magicians Stop Rogue, Save Wealthy Benefactor!

  “Now, don’t misunderstand,” Cybil said. “That will be pulled in the next few hours, I assure you. But it’ll be too little too late. That headline is already all over the city.”

  “They came after us,” Kane said. Chesterfield went crazy.”

  Cybil leaned forward.

  “And now he’s dead, and the CEO of one of the largest concrete suppliers in the Northern Union gets to live another day.”

  Tabitha chimed in.

  “Who? I don’t remember Kane talking to anyone.”

  “That couple you told to run,” Cybil said. “That you told to come to me. Well, they did just that.”

  “Is he an Oligarch?”

  She shook her head.

  “He has some pull with them. He’s as slimy as they come, though. He’s building himself a candidate to run next year. But make no mistake, you’ve caused some confusion in his mind. Enough to disrupt things.” She reached over and tapped the paper in Kane’s hands. “He can’t run from this. And he can’t deny it, either.”

  Kane looked at the officer sitting next to Cybil, then out the window at the two officers standing outside underneath umbrellas.

  “What is this?” he said, motioning to the cops.

  Cybil smiled at him.

  “This is the Revolution, Kane. A lot’s been going on here in the city that you don’t know about.”

  “I know what you told me,” Kane said. “That the Templars took over the department.”

  “And we’ve been taking it back,” Cybil said, leaning forward. “Ever since you left my house that night, I’ve wondered if I should’ve told you everything.”

  “Told me what?” Kane said.

  “There’s been an uprising within the police department,” Cybil said, smiling. “A good many of us decided we’re tired of Danwood, Gentry, and the dirty cops. The Templars pushed it over the edge. Gentry’s little private police have no place in our department, and neither does Danwood’s group of hooligans. There’s fifty of us. All of us armed. Krieg’s a part of it, too.” She sat back. “It’s time, Kane. Time to take a stand. We can take the North back, bring back justice, and New Chicago is where it has to happen. Right here in the capitol. But we need more people.”

  Tabitha clapped her hands.

  “We’ve got people,” she said excitedly. “Chris and Hoyle, and a whole group of Magicians!”

  Cybil’s smile grew as she looked at Tabitha, then back at Kane. The smile faded into a serious expression, stern and all business.

  “How many?”

  Kane shook his head.

  “Maybe twenty, thirty Magicians,” he said. “Another fifty non-magic users. Civilians Those are just the ones I know can fight.”

  “Don’t forget about a chronically grumpy Mambo,” Tabitha said.

  Cybil blinked.

  “A what?”

  “She’s a Hoodoo user,” Kane said. “Long story, but she’s with us and that’s what matters. What do you have in mind?”

  Cybil nodded.

  “That we combine forces and storm the police department. Wipe out those Templar sons of bitches in one swoop.”

  “Problem with that plan,” Kane said. “They have weapons we’ve never seen.”

  “Oh, bullshit,” Cybil spat. “Kane, Krieg did his homework after you talked to him. He knows a
ll about those guns. The Special Forces took those two men, Maxim and Thompson. Killed ‘em both and stole their plans. That’s where the Oligarchs got their firepower. They stole it and used their own wealth and resources to manufacture what they needed. Trust and believe that we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

  It made sense. That was how the weapons got distributed to both the Templars and the Special Forces. Kane mentally whacked himself in the head for not seeing it sooner.

  “We’ve already managed to take some of those weapons from the Templars we’ve taken down,” Cybil said, shaking her head. “But it’s not enough. We need more firepower than what we’ve got. Guns that can mow down a crowd in seconds stand up pretty well to regular service pistols.”

  “That’s why you want Magicians to help you storm the department.”

  Cybil nodded.

  “That’s why we need you.”

  Cybil filled Kane in on the way to the meeting point. She ordered two of her men to get word to Chris and Hoyle. Her men would act as part of the police detail during the cleanup at the entrance, then sneak in and brief them on what was happening. They were instructed to walk in unarmed with their hands in the air to avoid being shot or turned into a dust pile by a magic blast.

  “I’m sure you know that you’re wanted for the assassination of the President of the Northern Union,” Cybil said. “What you don’t know, what the higher-ups have worked to keep quiet, is that the city exploded after that.”

  “What do you mean?” Kane asked.

  “In the past day or two since Frostmeyer’s death, skirmishes have been happening all over the city. People are tired of the state of things. The police state, the authoritarian laws, all of it.” Cybil waved her hand at the window. “Hell, you would’ve thought that would happen when they made it legal to kill someone in the street for just being accused of being a Magician. The government worked quickly to make sure there was a newspaper blackout on it. No radio talk, nothing. Newsies were threatened, and some have already turned up missing.” She leaned close, looking Kane in the eye. “The Oligarchy is scared. Their workers have gone on strike. Production is down, which means profits are already dropping. People have been storming City Hall daily, protesting, demanding change. Sometimes it gets violent.” She sat back. “Believe it or not, Hidden Valley isn’t the sole victim of the Northern Union Oligarchy. Hell, things have been happening all over. New York, Baltimore, all the major cities are seeing uprisings against the police and the Special Forces. Even within the departments. The police department in Boston was completely taken over by revolutionaries, and the dirty cops were bounced out.”

 

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