Dawn Over Doomsday ac-4

by Jaspre Bark

  Cortez edged along the wall with the shotgun trained on the doorway. He was heading back to the cells. He kicked open a door with a broken safety glass window and stopped for a second to pick a shard of glass out of the broken wire.

  Arriving back at the cells Cortez used the glass to cut through the rope that held Linda to the bars.

  "I expected you sooner," she said. "You run into trouble?"

  "Nothing too bad. It's strictly amateur night back there."

  "You bring any weapons?"

  Cortez held up the shotgun and the shard of glass. "Just these."

  "Do I get to the play with the big one?" Cortez shook his head and tossed her the shard of glass. "Oh you're a cheap date." Linda said.

  Cortez held his finger to his lips to silence her and motioned her to follow him. Greaves moaned in pain.

  They walked up the corridor and stood either side of the door to the cells, their backs to the wall. They heard footsteps down the corridor and shouted directions, often conflicting. Linda looked wryly at Cortez. He nodded. She knew he was right.

  The two robed soldiers burst into the cells first. The second was the one Cortez had winged. He was holding his shotgun in his right hand, which hung limply down at his side. He held his wounded shoulder with his left hand. Linda came up behind him, lifted his elbow with her left hand and jammed the shard of glass into his chest with her right. The man dropped to his knees and fell forward, driving the tip of the shard right through his body and out of his back.

  Before his comrade had time to turn round, Cortez unloaded the remaining shotgun cartridge into the back of his head, blowing his face and brains all over the floor.

  The footsteps stopped then went back up the corridor. Cortez glanced round to see Chico beating a hasty retreat.

  Linda and Cortez pursued him up the corridor. When they got to the office a window was open and there was no sign of the man. They heard a motorbike start up and Cortez approached the window with care. He saw Chico speeding away.

  "You were right about amateur hour," said Linda. "How'd these jokers get the drop on us in the first place?"

  "One lucky punch can sometimes turn a fight. You should see how the others are doing. I'll look around for our things."

  Cortez found their weapons and Greaves' great coat and carried them back to the cells.

  Anna was free when he got there and Linda was helping Greaves pull his trousers back up. He was wincing and moaning from the pain. He looked like he'd been burned pretty bad.

  Greaves looked up at the sound of pills rattling in his great coat. "I told them about the Doomsday Virus," he said. "I told them where to find it. I told them everything. Except about Anna. I didn't mention Anna." Then he burst into tears.

  Linda put her arm around him and pulled him to her breast. "There, there. Come to mama."

  Greaves put his arms around her waist and curled into her like a little boy. "Mommy, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I just couldn't take the pain. I'm sorry. I just couldn't take it."

  "That's alright. You get it all out. You're safe now. They can't hurt you anymore. You have a good cry about it."

  Greaves continued to sob and Linda comforted him. Cortez had known of several men who used to cry on whores once they had come. Linda had probably comforted clients this way a hundred times before. It was obviously nothing new to her.

  But for a few minutes it almost made Cortez like her.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  "Just wanted to wish you luck Robert," said Colt stepping into the Prophet's dressing room. It had once been a classroom in Denver University's media dept. The department had a working TV studio and Colt's tech guys said that it was in a good enough condition to be adapted to their purposes.

  "Why thank you Samuel," said the Prophet. "That's mighty kind of you. How's my make-up look?"

  "Well I'm not much of a judge of these things. I'm just glad it's you out there instead of me. Especially if you have to wear that stuff on your face. "

  "Stops the lights blanching my face. Or at least that's what I'm told."

  "Is that right? Can't have that can we? Now have you had a look at the changes my men made to the script?"

  "Yes I have. You know Samuel, I was hoping to concentrate more on a theme of reconciliation and forgiveness."

  "I know you was Robert. But we're in the middle of an all-out war here. Don't forget how viciously they treated your followers. People'll be a lot more forgiving once we've beaten these savages. Then you can preach all the reconciliation you like. 'Sides, you got the second part of the show to concentrate on the love of Jesus. We've got to make these people realise what a threat them Injuns pose. We got to get them back into the fold. We can't save their souls 'less we do."

  "Okay Samuel." The Prophet's shoulders drooped a little and his smile was forced, but Colt knew he was going to play along. "We'll do it your way."

  "Atta boy." Colt slapped him on the back. "You know we got this broadcast going out to sets in twenty-three – count 'em – twenty-three States."

  "Is that right? That's a hell of a lot of ground to cover."

  "Ain't it just? We tested the reception in each State. It's as clear as if you was standing there talking to the people yourself. That transmission tower we re-built helps boost the signal. We've put the word out in every one of those States. Folk's are clamouring to hear from you. People are setting up every workable TV set they can get their hands on and they're gonna draw a crowd. Trust me on this. Once folk start seeing moving pictures again they're going to be mesmerised. Mesmerised by the spectacle and mesmerised by your words. We've got so many demands from surrounding States that folks are already forming work teams to build more transmitters to get the word out. We're gonna win a lot of folks back to Jesus."

  "And you Samuel. What about you?"

  "Me?"

  "Are we going to win you back to Jesus?"

  Colt laughed again. "Will ya listen to this guy? What do you think I'm doing this for? Course you've won me back to Jesus. I never left him and he never left me."

  "I hope so Samuel. I hope so."

  Colt stepped out into the corridor where Simon Peter was waiting for him. "So," he said. "You checked out this 'thing' in Montana that the wetback was talking about?"

  "This Doomsday Virus that you can programme to kill or spare whoever you want? Yeah we checked it out."

  "Walk with me," said Colt, glancing up and down the corridor to make certain they weren't overheard. "So how's this guy's… what's his name?"

  "Chico."

  "Yeah Chico. How's his story check out?"

  "Well, there is a secret underground lab in Montana, near the site where the Little Bighorn river used to be."

  "Used to be?"

  "You remember Billings got hit by those nuclear strikes that kicked off after The Cull? When everyone was blaming everyone else for starting the plague and some guys actually went ahead and pressed the button?"

  "Course I remember that. How'd you live through a thing like that and forget?"

  "Well this caused a lot of seismic activity, earthquakes and stuff. It's not radioactive around the Little Bighorn or nothing, but the river's dried up and there's all this molten lava in its place. Anyway there's this plateau right in the centre of all this lava. There's just one small pass onto the plateau which is only a matter of feet wide. The rest of it is surrounded by molten rock."

  "And this is where the lab is? Are you sure about this?"

  "We dug up two of the guys who worked on the thing. They were scared to talk to us at first, but we put the pressure on them. The lab was built by some secret government organisation, one that survived The Cull. They haven't got a lot of influence left but they still have a lot of resources. They chose this place 'cos it's so difficult to get to, and they murdered everyone who ever worked on it, to keep it quiet. Or at least they thought they did. These two guys survived by hiding under a pile of corpses. They even drew us a map of how to get there."

  "And you
sent men to check this out right? To see if this place exists."

  "We did. There's something out there alright. In the place they say it is. So it probably is a lab."

  "And it has this Doomsday Virus there? The one you can programme?"

  "Well the UTN obviously believe it does. Which is what's most important. Specially if they get to it before us."

  "We can't let that happen! This virus could win us the war before it's even started."

  "Right. But this place is difficult to reach, almost impossible to get into and with the resources they have, probably very well defended. We're gonna have to raise an army to get in and, if it comes to it, stop the UTN from doing the same."

  "Well that oughtn't be too difficult. This weekly broadcast is gonna bring us lots of converts. Specially when we get 'em good and worried about the threat from them Injuns. They'll come flocking to us desperate for protection and ready to fight. So this Chico's story does check out then?"

  "Not entirely. The stuff about a party of thirty Injuns attacking them to rescue their cohorts is probably bullshit. We had a look round the place and his story doesn't stand up. There was no UTN activity in that area around that time anyway, except for the four that the scouting party picked up. So there wouldn't have been thirty Injuns around to come to their aid."

  "Is that right?" said Colt, with a knowing sneer.

  "The four UTN members probably fought it out with our boys and beat 'em even though they were outnumbered. Chico probably fled and left his comrades to take the brunt."

  "So what do we do with him?"

  "Well he did give us some valuable information, so he has his uses. On the other hand he lied his ass off to save face. On top of that the barefaced bastard is asking for promotion."

  "Is he now? Well that's what he'll get. We'll make him a lieutenant and put him on the front line of this march on Montana. If he's half the coward you say he is that's the best punishment I can think of."

  "Yes sir."

  "Now, how's Wyoming looking?"

  "All three gangs are losing control of their territories. People are either in favour of what the Prophet is preaching, or they're scared that the gang bosses aren't doing enough to protect them from the redskin threat. There's open defiance in some places. People are refusing to pay their tributes and the men we sent in to take out lower level enforcers are doing a good job of it. The people are protecting 'em from getting caught. Even with their lives sometimes."

  "And the upshot of this is?"

  "All three gangs want to talk to you about joining up."

  "I though they might. I ain't having anything to do with that shit-heel Benny Cooper. He was the one behind that attack on us, I know it. He's gonna be the first casualty in Wyoming. Set up a sit down with Tom Eastman and Carl Jennings. Only this time they come to my headquarters in my territory. And they come unarmed or they don't come at all."

  "Yes sir."

  The two of them had worked their way round to the mixing room, where the director and technical staff were preparing to send out the first Tomorrow Show in an age. Colt and Simon Peter stepped into the room to watch. They were greeted with hushed respect from the director and technical staff.

  Colt could see the Prophet out on the studio floor. He was standing on his mark in front of the cameras ready for his big moment. This was what they had all worked so long and hard for.

  "Gentlemen," said Colt. "We're back where we should be. In control!"

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The ground they walked was ancient ground. According to the legends of the Cheyenne, when the first people fished the land from the sea, in a net made from the promises of the gods, it was this very land that they pulled first to the surface. This very land where human beings first walked the earth. Where the grass and the corn were made to grow. Where the buffalo was brought into being to provide good hunting.

  Now this ground had been prepared according to tradition, the grass burnt away and the bare earth scorched. A circle had been drawn in ash made from the burned bones of Cheyenne warriors, dead for over two centuries. Such a powder was hard to come by and only used on the most sacred of occasions. Occasions such as this.

  Hiamovi sat inside the circle wearing the symbols of his totem animals as custom demanded. He wore two symbols, his headdress was made exclusively from the feathers of the golden eagle. Around his neck he wore a coyote's paw. Behind him were two braves: Abedabun, a Cheyenne scout who wore a pendant of bald eagle feathers around his neck, and Macawi, a Sioux scout who wore a rabbit's foot.

  Facing Hiamovi was Ahiga, who wore a bear's claw. Behind Ahiga were Akecheta who wore a wolf's paw and Hastiin who wore a rattlesnake skin wrapped around his left arm. A single lit candle sat between the two parties.

  This was a circle of truth. None who entered were to speak any falsehood. This was a sacred covenant and to break it would mean the severest punishment. In this life and all the lives that followed.

  "Ahiga," said Hiamovi. "You face your accusers openly. So you can hear the charges made against you."

  "I thank you," said Ahiga, "for that privilege."

  "Macawi," said Hiamovi, turning to address the Sioux brave. "How did you come to hear the allegations you now make against Ahiga?"

  "Great Chief, you sent us to spy on the white man's occupation of Lame Deer. We'd spent three days watching their operations, noting the harsh way they treated our brothers and sisters. Working them until they dropped. Beating them if they didn't get up again. On the evening of the third day as we were finishing our meal we were approached by two squaws. They'd risked much by coming to look for us. If their absence was discovered, they, and their family could have been beaten to death. But there were important things they had to tell the UTN, things they had to get directly to your ears."

  "Abedabun," said Hiamovi. "Tell us what these important things were and why the squaws thought I needed to hear them."

  "Great Chief," said Abedabun. "The squaws had been waiting on the white chief Colt, fetching his supper and doing his chores. He considered them little better than animals and so he did not watch his tongue when they were near. He was discussing word that had reached him from one of his own scouts with another white man. The scout claimed that members of the UTN knew about a virus created by white scientists. A Doomsday Virus that could be instructed to kill selectively. They said this virus is kept in an underground hideaway in Little Bighorn on the site of the Cheyenne's finest moment. Although we knew of no-one within the UTN who had heard of such a thing we thought it highly important you know of this Doomsday Virus and its existence."

  "And what else Macawi," said Hiamovi, "did these brave squaws tell you?"

  "They said that one of the tribe's young braves saw Hastiin planting a quiver full of bloody arrows and explosives in the council's meeting hall. They also said that one of the Elders then saw Hastiin go and inform Ahiga of what he had done. They said this evidence had been used as justification by the white man for the evil that was being done to them. They claimed that Ahiga and his men knowingly planted that evidence to give the white man reason to persecute them."

  "Thank you Macawi, thank you Abedabun," said Hiamovi. "Ahiga, what have you to say about these claims?"

  "I am called here when I have important work to do raising an army so that I can answer the charges of women, children and old men? Do you think this is the best use of my time Hiamovi?"

  "Do you deny the charges Ahiga?"

  Ahiga was silent for a long time. He held Hiamovi's gaze the whole while, without blinking.

  "No," he said presently. "I do not deny them. I am bound to speak no falsehood and the claims are true."

  Hiamovi continued to hold Ahiga's gaze. "When you told me of your connections among the Neo-Clergy you assured me they were superficial. Cultivated, you claimed, purely for the purpose of gathering information. Yet now you sit here and admit that you collaborated with these men to bring untold suffering to your brothers and sisters. How can this be?
Why did you do this?"

  "To bring you power," said Ahiga, raising his voice. "To unite all the tribes into the strong nation, that we've worked so hard to bring about. How many tribes have joined our cause? How many braves have pledged us their services now that they see what a real threat the white man is? This occupation has been the spark that lit a fire across the land. A fire in the hearts of all our people. Now they understand what true strength we will have if we all stand together. This wouldn't have happened if the white man hadn't played right into our hands. Do I regret the suffering this has caused my brothers and sisters? Of course I do. Just as I regret every casualty in every battle I have ever fought. But this is a war, we knew that from day one. Brave men and women have to fall so that their children and their children's children can reclaim the land that is theirs by right. And you call me here to discuss this matter when the most important thing these scouts learned is not being discussed."

  "And that is?" Hiamovi said.

  "This Doomsday Virus that the white man has created. If there is such a virus in existence, that can be told who to kill and who to spare, and if it really sits on the very spot where your people won our greatest victory against the white man then don't you think that's destiny? Don't you think that such a weapon could end this war without another shot being fired? Shouldn't we be doing everything in our power to ensure that we get hold of it before the white man does? Can we really face the consequence of it falling into his hands?"

  Hiamovi was loath to admit it but Ahiga's words carried a lot of truth. The United Tribal Nations had grown on an unprecedented scale since the occupation. The tribal Elders could see the wisdom in uniting against the threat of the white man now they saw what he was capable of. As a Cheyenne chief Hiamovi had gained great stature from the fact that it was his people who were attacked by the white man. His people whom he was working so tirelessly to free from enslavement.