by Jamie Davis
CHAPTER 13
It took exactly three days for the Army and Couch to figure out that something was wrong with their soldiers. It started with a widespread outbreak of food poisoning hitting about thirty percent of the barracks in twenty different cities. Then the stasis bombs struck.
Boot brushes activated in a trio of cities — a supplemental charm on their fiftieth stroke locked every person within one hundred yards of the user in a stasis sphere, keeping them frozen while still fully aware of their surroundings. The effect lasted for eight hours and caused numerous nervous breakdowns among the affected men and women. The others were severely demoralized and had to stand down from their duties for days afterward.
General Philip Couch toured the barracks in the capital where one such stasis bomb detonated his intelligence adjutant, Major Dirk Seifert.
“My investigation is still in its preliminary stages, General. But the primary culprit for this attack appears to be this item over here.” Major Seifert led the General to a bunk in the center of the line of beds. He was a tall, intelligent graduate of the National Military Academy, inherently competent and trustworthy.
“That boot brush caused all the trouble here?” Couch was doubtful.
“Yes, sir,” Seifert said. “That’s the challenge when it comes to rooting out all these charmed items. They men won’t turn the items over on their own and we don’t know which might be sabotaged, and which are just normally charmed.”
“Explain what happened here, exactly,” Couch ordered.
The major took out a note pad and consulted it before continuing. Couch approved of his attention to detail.
“It apparently started with one Private Sam Jenkins. He purchased a charmed boot brush because he’d been on report three times in the last month for dirty boots. He bought his item from a street vendor selling hot dogs near the base. We’ve checked for the vendor. He was new and hasn’t been back since the two days before the stasis bomb went off. Jenkins was using the brush according to the vendor’s instructions, brushing the leather, then shouted a warning to his fellow soldiers. They looked his way and described a spreading field that looked like the room was filling with clear gelatin. As the stasis field spread outward, it captured more and more soldiers until it reached its full expansion of approximately one hundred meters in every direction.”
Seifert bent over and picked up the brush.
“Good God, man, don’t touch that thing.”
“It’s harmless now, sir. We had our experts inspect it and everything else in this room. Whatever magic charm was placed upon it is gone now.”
“Was anything else found when the survey team scanned the room?”
“Nothing malevolent,” said the major. “But nearly every soldier had at least one charmed item in their possession. Some of them had bought from the same vendor. Others used the normal black market channels. We’re following up on that as well. It seems the charm runners were targeting individual soldiers, but also sold in bulk to the scroungers in the various units on-base.”
“As long as armies have existed, there’s been a black market for contraband,” Couch observed. “We can stop the individuals, but eventually someone else will take their place.”
“Agreed, sir. Still, I’ve taken the liberty of having the military police pick up the scroungers involved. We got lucky in Baltimore and found a scrounger who might have been in contact with known associates of Durham. I’m following up personally. We might be able to trace the contact back to her hiding place.”
“Excellent work, Major,” Couch said. “I want that pipeline locked down. Have the MPs go through every barrack—including the officer’s quarters—and confiscate every magical item they find. Don’t punish the owners unless they cause trouble; just collect everything and have it sent to Kane’s adjutant. He’ll make sure they’re properly disposed of. I also want to make an example of some runners. Have our city patrols gather all suspected sympathizers. Hold public trials and then have them executed by firing squad in front of the cameras. Perhaps we can impress upon people that we’re not fooling around here.”
“Yes, sir,” Major Seifert said, swallowing hard. “Anything else?”
“Keep me personally apprised of the situation regarding the potential link in Baltimore to Durham. She’s public enemy number one. Locate her and we nip this rebellion in the bud.”
“Yes sir.” Seifert saluted, turned, and left the briefing room, collecting his assistants as he left the room.
Couch watched the capable young officer leave then turned to review another pile of reports on his desk. The top one suggested closing traffic routes between the cities on the interstates to kill communication lines between the rebel groups. Problem was, even with the nationwide cell towers down and the network dead, rebels were still somehow coordinating their efforts.
He considered the possibility of a magical solution being used by the rebels, and again wished that he’d resisted Kane’s demand to disband the Army’s own chanter corps three years before. He’d have his own resources now to answer questions like these. Now he always had to talk with Kane, and Couch had become reticent about visiting the Director too frequently.
There was something dark happening there, and he wanted no part of it.
Couch shook his head and set aside that report folder.
He had more important things to worry about, like where he was going to get the food and ammunition his troops would need if this turned into a prolonged campaign. The rebels were turning a two-week operation into a quagmire.
Couch wondered if Durham was having similar headaches growing her rebellion. The General certainly hoped so.
CHAPTER 14
Winnie sighed, looking around the table in the room she used as a temporary office at the Pike. It had been two months since the military coup had turned into a standoff between General Couch’s loyal army forces and the rag-tag collection of rebel militia units, charm runners, and raw recruits from around country. They were all looking to Winnie to break the stalemate in some way.
But right now she was stuck trying to find a way to accommodate the growing band of followers at the amusement park. Cleaver had sent another group down from New Amsterdam. He and the Mayor had the remaining loyalist forces surrounded in the city’s financial district and the Sable boss said that they weren’t going anywhere soon, unless Couch managed to free up some forces.
That group of nearly fifty runners and middling militia trainees was almost enough to break the delicate system of resources and supply at the amusement park and Winnie wasn’t sure how she was going to solve the problem.
She shuffled through the disorganized pile of papers, looking for a list of remaining food supplies in their stores.
She stopped looking when she heard the knock on the door, glanced up and saw Garraldi. She tried to keep the fatigue from her voice, but barely managed.
“What now?”
“Sorry, boss. I know you’re juggling. You asked me to come by this afternoon and take you on a tour of the newest recruits so they could meet you personally. It means a lot to morale but I can come back later if you want.”
Winnie smiled at the big man, pushed the pile of papers away from her, and stood. “A break to talk to new arrivals sounds perfect. Please, lead the way.”
He smiled and she smiled back. After their first few successes against Kane, the current stalemate was straining everyone. It was good to see an occasional smile. Necessary.
“How are things going on your end?” Winnie asked. “Do you have what you need to train the new recruits?”
Garraldi shrugged. “I’m doing the best that I can, boss. I had that one stint in the Army, but that doesn’t make me an expert on training and operations. I’m not as good at this as … ”
“As Cait would have been?” Winnie said with a sad smile.
She felt the fresh pangs of loss every time she mentioned her best friend, the woman who had died ensuring their escape from the camp raid mont
hs before.
Garraldi nodded. “Sorry, boss. She had a way with this kind of thing that would’ve made things much easier.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.” Winnie put a hand on Garraldi’s shoulder as they walked outside and headed to the nearby park offices, now turned into makeshift barracks. “Just ask yourself What would Cait do?”
“That’s what I’m doing. And so far it’s working. It’s taking me time, but I’m learning the ropes.”
“Good,” Winnie said.
They’d arrived at the small two-story structure the park had used as its administrative offices. The rooms had been emptied of office furniture and filled with bunks for the recruits, now arriving almost daily.
Garraldi opened the door and entered the first floor hallway.
There were two new recruits inside. They wore white strips of cloth tied about their right arms above the elbow. They recruits both snapped to attention—a boy of about twenty and a woman who looked to be in her early thirties—as Winnie and Garraldi passed.
Garraldi pointed at the woman’s white armband. “Something new I’m trying. Everyone has to rotate in as the Officer of the Day. There are two at any given time, one chanter and one middling recruit. That way if there’s a problem with one group or another, they have one of their own to deal with it. We’re integrating housing. The ODs are responsible for discipline in the barracks for now, though I hope to identify the best from among them, then eventually turn the best into squad leaders and sergeants.”
“I like what you’re doing,” Winnie said. “They’ll need to trust each other once things get really tough.”
“That’s the plan, ma’am.”
They walked past several makeshift bunk rooms. Recruits all stood to some approximation of attention whenever they saw them. Winnie smiled, offering words of encouragement to the occasional troops, struck by the wide range of ages, and the number of middlings who’d volunteered to join their side.
Garraldi led Winnie to a room where everyone was wrapped in various bandages and splints.
“Artos sent a group of menders to teach magical and mundane first aid to some of the recruits. We’ll need medics eventually. The menders will act in that role to start, but we’re hoping to identify some talented recruits to apprentice with them as well.”
“I shall have to thank him for the loan,” Winnie said.
They arrived at the far side of the building. Garraldi led her outside and across a broad courtyard. Gunfire POPPED in the distance. He and his master-at-arms Maria DeSantos had set up a firing range. He must be taking her there.
They walked for a handful of minutes then turned the corner near a merry-go-round and found Maria drilling a line of recruits firing downrange at a set of hillside targets. The rifles had been liberated from the New Amsterdam armory and had arrived the previous week.
Maria stepped back from the recruit firing line to greet Winnie. “They’re coming along, though I wish we had more ammo to practice with.”
Garraldi shook his head. “We only have what Cleaver sent down from New Amsterdam. Tris is working on getting more, but it’s taking time. And we need to preserve our stores in case of attack.”
Maria glanced at Winnie. “Have you told her yet?”
“Told me what?”
“I didn’t have a chance to bring it up yet, boss,” Garraldi said, his eyes on Winnie.
“He doesn’t agree with me,” Maria said.
“That’s not it,” Garraldi said. “I didn’t want to add to the stuff she needs to worry about.”
“Stop arguing about whatever it is and tell me,” Winnie said.
“We can’t stay here,” Maria said. “It’s not safe and we’re too exposed.”
“What do you mean?”
The Pike felt plenty safe to Winnie.
“There’s no way we can defend this place against an organized assault.” Maria gestured around them. “There are multiple approaches to the park and the whole place is flat and open with no cover from incoming fire. If General Couch finds out where we are and mounts an attack, he’ll roll right over us. We won’t last an hour.”
Winnie looked from Maria to Garraldi, shaking her head. “You two have discussed this, so you must have tried to think of a solution. Any suggestions?”
“No,” Maria shook her head. “Garraldi and I have a list of things to look for in a new location. Defensibility is, of course, our primary need.”
“Well, we’ll bring this up at the next council meeting,” Winnie said, referring to the regular dinner with her core of leaders. “You and Garraldi will present a joint report on what we should look for in a new location. And we’ll want to start with a few recommendations. Then we’ll see what the rest of the crew can come up with.”
They nodded, both smiling at Winnie.
She said, “See what we can accomplish when we all work together?” Then she turned and left them discussing the problem behind her.
They were capable leaders; they just needed to trust each other.
Winnie hoped this little exercise would help them get to know each other a bit better. And get along. Everyone at the Pike needed the two of them working together; they were her primary training resources to teach military tactics and operations.
After dinner, Winnie opened the floor to Garraldi and Maria. The group also included, Tris, Winnie, Danny, Cricket, and Elaine, who was now instrumental in helping the twins develop their talents and passing any learned knowledge onto Winnie.
Garraldi started the presentation with a look at the growing numbers and the strain it was placing on their available space at the Pike. Maria followed, outlining the many limitations of their current location. Then they finished with a list of necessary features for any new location, in order of importance, both of them stressing defensibility.
Cricket, who’d become Winnie’s intelligence chief, raised a hand.
“Everything I find says that Couch is having a hard enough time holding on to the cities. What makes you think that he’ll attack our base, if he can even find it?”
“Because it’s what I would do in his place,” Maria said. “The General doesn’t have unlimited resources. The standing army is small and you’re right: he’s stretched pretty thin. That said, he must know that he’s leaving himself open to attack by staying pinned in the city. We know where he and his forces are all the time. It’s easy for us to plan small attacks, like hitting the black market pipeline.”
Garraldi stepped up. “Couch has to know that in order to win, he’ll have to bring the fight to us. The more settled into his defenses he becomes, the more resources he’ll free up to come looking for us. It wouldn’t take much to overrun us here. Maria and I agree one hundred percent on that.”
Danny started to say something but stopped. He was looking at the features they needed in a new location, listed on the monitor.
“Danny, what is it?” Winnie asked.
“I’m not sure. I’m thinking of a place, but I need to do some checking, talk it out with these two first.”
“Tell us,” Winnie said. “We might as well discuss it while everyone’s here.”
“I’m not even sure it still exists. It might be a good fit, but I want to be sure. Something better might come along in the meantime.”
Winnie was a little annoyed at him for not being more open with his idea but it wasn’t worth arguing about, at least not here in front of everyone.
She adjourned and everyone left. Then Winnie waited until she and Danny were back in their room later that evening before asking again.
“Be patient, Win. I’m not keeping secrets. I just don’t want to get everyone’s hopes up. But don’t worry, you’ll be the first to know if this works out.”
Winnie wondered about the big mystery as she settled into bed, worrying if they’d find a new location soon enough to avoid the war that Garraldi and Maria seemed certain was coming their way.
CHAPTER 15
Nils sat staring, looking direc
tly at the area where, over a month earlier, he’d first met the entity that called itself the Fell.
He’d expanded his magic since then, but always in limited ways.
He could detect a threshold in the power but Kane was still loathe to cross it, knowing that despite the unimaginable strength that lay on the other side, crossing over meant that he could never return.
He’d been dabbling in mind control with nearly every person with whom he came in contact, making them do things they’d never do on their own.
The affected individual always remained under his spell, becoming a darker version of themselves. In one instance, a Red Leg officer went home and burned his house to ashes with his family still inside, after Kane planted the suggestion to give in to his darker, interior urges. He returned to work the next morning and bragged proudly about setting the blaze because he had to purge all chanter sympathizers like his wife from the world.
While Kane felt the power to change and force his will on others’ minds intensify, he believed with the additional power promised by the Fell, he’d be able to change their bodies as well.
This was the line he was most reluctant to cross.
The voice of his tiny, shrinking conscience told him that it was what the Fell wanted him to do. It cautioned him to beware of the entity’s motives.
They certainly weren’t the same as Kane’s own goals.
The tiny voice was all that kept him from calling the Fell again.
“This is ridiculous,” Kane shouted at no one. “What am I afraid of? I have nothing to fear from a disembodied voice.”
Kane had made a career of bold choices and standing by his decisions, no matter what. It had led him to control a nation, set him up for an ultimate victory over the world.
“No,” Kane said to that tiny voice. “It is time to see what else the Fell can teach me.”
He channeled the dark energy.
The ebony ball of force began to form again.
This time it had been easier. Kane was much more attuned to the power across the barrier on the other side.