Gaslit Revolution

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Gaslit Revolution Page 27

by Jason Gilbert


  “Boston?”

  Cybil shook her head.

  “It’s a bad situation there,” she said. “But not as bad as here. New Chicago is the capitol city of the Northern Union. It only makes sense that the biggest fights are here.” She leveled her gaze at Kane. “The war has started, Kane. It’s not a question anymore. Now it’s a matter of survival. Fighting back.”

  Kane breathed out, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

  “We don’t have the men for this,” Kane said. “Even if we combine forces, which we should, we still don’t have the numbers. We’re talking over a hundred men up against several hundred soldiers and cops. Not to mention that we don’t have air support. The ships they have could wipe us out easily, and bystanders would just be considered collateral damage. A full assault is far too risky.”

  “Which is why we go a bit at the time,” Cybil said. “But, and you can take this to the bank, we aren’t going to have a choice but to engage sooner than later. Once we take the department, the Special Forces will come down hard on us. We’ll need to be ready. That’s why we need to make the stand somewhere fortified. The police department is perfect for that. It’s the most difficult building in the city to penetrate, and they wouldn’t dare bomb it. It’s too close to too many buildings that matter to them. Offices and companies that churn out their fortunes.”

  The coach came to a halt. The door opened, and Kane saw the taller man from the church step to the side. The rain had let up, the ground still wet from the downpour. Kane stepped out, helped Tabitha out, and looked around. They’d come to a small neighborhood in the West side, not unlike Cybil’s neighborhood. The houses were lined in neat rows, the yards all cut and trimmed, the homes identical and small. It was a neighborhood meant for families who didn’t have the means to live in the heart of the city, but were better off than the people of Hidden Valley.

  “The Middle Class is dying,” Cybil said as she stepped out of the coach, assisted by the tall cop. “A lot of these houses are empty. People ending up on the streets because they can’t afford to live here anymore. Can’t even afford transport to Hidden Valley. At least they’d have some support there. No, they just end up sleepin’ in the shadows behind garbage cans. Wandering the city. Doing everything they can to eat.” She looked at Kane. “Or, in some cases, so their children can eat.”

  “Why not just walk to Hidden Valley?” Tabitha asked. “Or Southside? Even Cannery Row would take them in.”

  Cybil looked at her.

  “They’re scared,” she said. “They’ve never been in this situation before. They don’t know what to do, where to go, and they’re afraid of what could happen to them in Hell’s Kitchen. As far as they know, they’d be dead in minutes with all the crime there.”

  “But the crime isn’t really that bad in Hidden Valley,” she said. “It’s just people trying to survive. Everyone helps each other.”

  Cybil shrugged.

  “Not according to the newspapers, sweetie.”

  “That’s terrible,” Tabitha said, shaking her head.

  Cybil nodded.

  “What’s terrible, young lady, is that many of these people helped these sons of bitches into power and didn’t even know it.” She nodded towards the house they’d stopped in front of. “This way. Tom, you and Kyle make sure the area is secure, please.”

  The tall cop, Tom, nodded.

  “Ma’am.”

  Kane and Tabitha followed Cybil as she led them to the front door. She opened it and entered. Kane let Tabitha in front of him, then entered, closing the door behind him. The house was small, the living room just big enough for the table and chairs that sat in the middle and the couch on the wall. The kitchen was through an open doorway, and another doorway to the left led to a small hallway where two bedrooms and a bathroom were located. The carpet was dry, the smell of dust heavy in the air. The plaster walls were cracked in places, and wires likely used to hang portraits still hung from the molding at the top of the walls. Cybil sat down at the table and looked at Kane and Tabitha. She lit a gas lamp and set it down in the center.

  “This house is a different story,” she said. “Tom found it last night. Figured it would be a good meeting place. Been empty a while, so no one will pay it any mind.”

  “What’s happening here?” Kane asked, stepping towards her. “What are we waiting for?”

  “My men will bring Chris and Hoyle here,” she said. “We’ll discuss things and figure out a plan.”

  “We need to get those people out of the subway.”

  “Right now, they’re safer than they would be trying to come here,” Cybil said. “That station is directly underneath uptown. They’d cave the streets in if they collapsed it.”

  “No,” Kane said. “But the Special Forces could go in and shoot them. Or gas them. Right now, the only saving grace we have is that Chesterfield was very publicly killed. Those people will be right back in harm’s way once the dust settles.”

  Cybil sighed.

  “You’re right; we can’t leave them trapped down there. But moving that many people has got to be a coordinated effort. We’ve got to be smart.”

  “Sounds like you have it all figured out,” Kane said.

  Cybil smiled, shaking her head.

  “I don’t,” she said. “That’s why I need your help. It all sounds easy, but it’s not. We’re all lost here, Kane. All of us. Just a bunch of pissed off, good cops who want our city back.” She stood. “I’m gonna go check in with my boys. Until your friends get here, all we can do is wait.” She turned and left the room, going through the back door and outside.

  Kane looked at Tabitha, the hairs on his neck standing up. Her eyes were completely white. She shook her head, her blues coming back.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  Tabitha shook her head again. She looked away from Kane, folding her arms in front of her as she shuddered.

  “Nothing,” she said. “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing,” Kane said. “Tell me.”

  “I can’t,” Tabitha said, her tone firm. She stamped her foot. “I won’t. Don’t make me.” She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. “Please don’t.”

  Kane nodded.

  “Okay,” he said, holding his hands up. He knew better than to push her. Still, he was worried. What was she keeping from him? What had she seen?

  Cybil barged back in through the back door, her expression tense. Kane looked at her, his fists clenched by his sides. Tabitha moved behind him, muttering her Ghostly Frost spell.

  “The neighborhood has been compromised,” Cybil said, her tone angry and bitter. “Get to the coach!”

  “If I wasn’t a lady I’d be cursin’ up a storm,” Cybil snapped. She smacked the sidewall of the coach. The horses were being pushed to their maximum power, the machines pumping steam into the air from their joints and exhaust ports. The coach took a corner, leaning precariously as the clockwork animals were urged ahead. Kane felt the wheels on his side touch back down to the road, but it didn’t settle his nerves much.

  “What happened?” Tabitha asked.

  “One of the residents in that neighborhood is a loyalist,” Cybil said. “They reported us. They only know about a few of us, thank God. But this still screws things up.”

  Tabitha’s jaw dropped in shock.

  “Well, that wasn’t very nice!”

  Kane raised an eyebrow at her, then looked at Cybil.

  “Take us to the subway entrance,” he said.

  Cybil laughed.

  “Are you out of your mind? This coach is probably reported ‘missing in action.’ You’re asking me to parade right through the city with stolen property!”

  Kane sat back and cursed under his breath. She was right. Danwood’s men would be all over them in no time.

  An idea came to mind.

  “The Mermaid,” he said, sitting up.

  Cybil looked at him.

  “Now is not the time for whores and drinking,
Kane.”

  Kane shook his head as he sat forward.

  “There’s a depot across from the building,” he said. “There’s plenty of clockwork horses and coaches in there. Including police issue. We pull in for repair, swap out to another one before anyone knows what happened.”

  Cybil sat back in her seat. “Clever,” she said, smiling.

  Tabitha looked between them.

  “What?”

  Kane winked at her.

  “Think our relationship is ready for handcuffs?”

  Tabitha’s eyes widened with excitement as she bit her lower lip and clapped her hands rapidly.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “I really hate you right now, Kane.”

  Kane looked sidelong at Tabitha as she struggled against the handcuffs that kept her hands pinned behind her back. She shifted in the seat, trying to find a more comfortable way to sit. She glared at him. “This isn’t what I had in mind.”

  Kane nodded.

  “I know what you had in mind. But this will actually have a better chance of working.”

  Cybil shook her head, smiling at the two of them. Kane looked at her.

  “What?” he said.

  “You two are precious,” Cybil said. “Young love. Oh, I wish I was your age again.”

  Tabitha looked at Kane again and growled at him. He couldn’t blame her for being a little angry with him. The last time she’d been handcuffed, she’d been taken in as a Magician and locked in a cell to be executed. Still, it wouldn’t look right if they pulled into the depot for a coach and horse change if the cops were accompanied by two wanted felons as if they were old friends. On top of everything, Tabitha wasn’t able to change their appearance again. She needed to have the models of what they were to become in sight, and having two sets of twins, show up would look just as out of place.

  The streets were noisy, people shouting and chanting as the coach passed by city hall on its way towards the tower that served as home to the Mermaid. Many of the protestors held signs, screaming for Democracy, for freedom. They were dressed no wholly different from some of the citizens in Hidden Valley. Skirts, trousers, suspenders, some looking as if they’d already had a run-in with the police that had ended in a black eye or a busted lip.

  Hundreds of them. All shouting. All chanting. All angry.

  “This type of thing has been more frequent the past few days,” Cybil said as the coach turned the corner away from the scene. “The inaction towards the shooting at Frostmeyer’s little rally the other day has people riled up. Some bystanders lost their lives, people who live and work here in the city, and the papers haven’t said a damn thing. They’re already talking about moving another Oligarch into the Presidency. Some other steel tycoon. There’s even been rioting in some districts.”

  “Who can blame them?” Tabitha said. “You can only push someone so far.” She frowned as they passed a fancy restaurant. Kane could see people through the large glass window, many dressed for success in expensive suits and ties. Businessmen at lunch, taking a break from making hordes of money for their companies. Overpaid employees loyal to the rich men than kept them wealthier than others.

  “I’m hungry,” said Tabitha. “Think they serve pancakes in there?”

  Kane looked at her.

  “What is it with you and pancakes?”

  Tabitha turned to him and shrugged.

  “First: I’m pregnant. It’s called a craving, Kane. Wake up. Besides, I like them! I mean, I’m sure they aren’t Ralphie’s, but it’s something. Gods, I’d take anything—”

  The restaurant window shattered next to the coach, cutting her off. The men inside shouted and stood up from their tables, fleeing as an explosive cocktail was hurled into the restaurant. Kane tried to stand, but ended up falling back onto his seat as the coach continued on. He looked at Cybil.

  “We’ve got to help them,” he said.

  “We can’t,” Cybil said. “Look.”

  Kane looked out the window again as people swarmed into the restaurant. The patrons fled as the rioters overturned tables and threw bricks at windows and mirrors. Wait staff retreated to the kitchen, customers went out through the door as the chaos grew. Someone managed to douse the flames, the smell of burning carpet and scorched wood heavy in the air. The coach continued on as the scene faded from sight.

  “We would’ve been swarmed as well,” Cybil said. “People can’t differentiate us from the rest of the police. We’re in uniform. For all they know, we’re just as corrupt.”

  “This is insane,” Kane said.

  “You’re not wrong,” Cybil said, nodding. “But it’s what’s happening. It’s all coming apart for the Oligarchy. For the police. That’s why we have to make a stand. Now, while they’re weak. Take the department. Show these people that there are police on their side. We’ll have an easier time stopping the rioting if they know that law enforcement is on their side, actually there to protect them and not just the powerful.”

  “And the judicial system?” Kane said.

  Cybil nodded.

  “Just like there are good cops, there are also good judges. Just gotta get them motivated.”

  Tabitha looked at Kane.

  “This is bigger than us,” she said.

  He nodded, not speaking as the coach slowed. Kane looked out and up at the building that loomed over them. He saw the lights at the top.

  The Mermaid.

  The coach veered right and entered the loud depot. The sounds of clockwork horses being tested mixed with grinders cutting away at excess metal, drills and wrenches being used to tighten bolts and gears and cogs. Hoses were going full blast in the wash area, spraying down horse and coach to ready them for release back out onto the streets. Kane heard a man’s voice call to the drivers up front.

  “Ho, there!”

  “Need a hand,” Tom shouted over the noise.

  “Don’t see you on the schedule, officer,” the man said. “Who’s your supervisor?”

  “In the back.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  The man appeared at the window next to Cybil. He looked in at her and nodded.

  “Ma’am.”

  “Evening, good sir,” Cybil said, masking her Southern accent. “I require an emergency swap. My horses are skipping gears, and this coach might have a blown axle. I’m transporting prisoners, so we need to make this quick.”

  The man tipped his striped hat.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He turned away. “Hey, Frankie! Get your ass over here! Need a cop coach and a couple of horses!”

  “Right!” another voice called.

  Cybil leaned forward as Tom and Kyle climbed down from their spot on the driver’s bench up front.

  “Make it look good, Kane,” she said. “They haven’t noticed the ID number on the coach yet. Let’s keep it that way.”

  The doors opened, and Tom reached in and pulled Tabitha out. She struggled against him as he jerked her roughly to the rear of the coach. Kyle reached in from the other side, his grip on Kane’s shirt strong as he pulled him out.

  “Get to your feet, asshole,” the kid said as he shoved Kane around to the back of the coach. “And keep your mouth shut.”

  “Fuck you,” Kane snapped at him. “Fuckin’ flatfoot.”

  “How’d you like that nice hat of yours crammed down your throat?” Kyle said. “Now can it.”

  Tom stood over Tabitha as Cybil came around and eyed Kane. She looked at the engineer she’d spoken to earlier. He held out a clipboard with a paper for her to sign. Another man road up to them with a new coach pulled by two freshly cleaned clockwork horses, their brass chassis shining in the lights.

  Cybil looked at Tom and Kyle and jerked her head at the new setup.

  “Get those two loaded.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison. Kyle nudged Kane with his night stick. Tom grabbed Tabitha by the arm and jerked her towards the coach.

  “Make a scene,” Cybil whispered as he went by. “Do it now!�


  Kane glanced over his shoulder, saw the engineer looking over the coach. He was leafing through the papers on his clipboard as he kept glancing up at the number on the back.

  Shit.

  Kane looked at Tabitha and Tom.

  “Get your fucking hands off her!” he yelled as he broke into a run. He shoulder-checked Tom in the back, sent the kid flying and Tabitha stumbling. Kyle was on him in a second, and Kane’s head whipped to the side from the blow to his jaw. Kane staggered back and kicked out, caught Kyle in the stomach. A group of engineers rushed at him, hands grabbing him, pushing him down to the ground, holding him. Tom and Kyle broke through the group and jerked Kane to his feet. Kane looked around and saw that the nosy engineer had stepped away from the coach to watch the scene.

  Cybil marched up to him, reared back, and smashed the back of her hand against Kane’s cheek.

  “Try that again, and I’ll shoot you myself,” she said loudly. She looked at Tom and Kyle. “Get them loaded now, or get a reprimand!”

  Kane rubbed his jaw as the coach sped down the street towards Uptown.

  They’d talked it over. It had to look real.

  Cybil removed the cuffs as soon as Tom and Kyle had pulled the coach out of the depot. She looked out the window now while Tabitha fussed at Kane.

  “You should let me heal you.”

  “I can take a punch,” Kane said. He looked at Cybil. “Now what?”

  “We need to make this quick,” she said. “You need to get your people rallied before…” she trailed off, sitting up straight as her eyes widened behind her thick-lensed glasses. “What in the hell?”

 

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