by Jamie Davis
He was about to use a new spell, one of the Fell’s darkest. One he’d been waiting to use. It needed the proper time, place, and vehicle for its deployment.
And now that time had come.
It was another point of no return, but Nils didn’t care. His hatred for Durham was a ball of fury in the center of his chest. She’d stolen his destiny and so she must suffer the ultimate fate.
Nils calmly walked to one of the trucks. He looked at the ammo crates stacked inside. Then climbing into the back, and drawing in the power of the Fell, along with a substantial amount of standard magic, he set to work.
An hour later, he emerged. Kane pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow. It had been hot in the trucks and his spells required significant physical exertion. His knees were wobbly as he trudged over to where Couch stood with his officers, surveying the valley below.
The General turned to Nils as he approached. “Director. My artillery officer told me you were doing something inside one of the ammunition trucks. I told him not to disturb you.”
“A wise choice, General.”
“Are you alright, sir? You look pale. Can I get you a chair?”
“I’ll be alright soon enough. I believe that we’re going to require additional troops.”
“Really, sir?”
“No need to thank me, General. I have altered some of your ammunition, giving the shells a rather special effect. You will spread this ammo among your four field guns then prepare to fire everything we have into the valley below.”
Nils turned, looked at the hospital’s smoking remains, then turned back to Couch.
“Finish these rebels once and for all. Then you may return to the capital where we will draw our plans for this nation’s recovery. Do you understand?”
“What should I expect from the altered weapons? Will they—”
“Fire the shells and finish this.”
“Yes, sir.”
Nils turned and took one last look at the valley. Without looking back he said, “Let’s see Durham escape this.”
And then he allowed himself a serpent’s smile, with something worse than murder in his eyes.
CHAPTER 42
Winnie ducked again.
Another crashing explosion overhead.
It had been over five hours since the barrage started falling above them. They’d gotten most of the remaining Dusters safely to the subbasement where they’d set up an aid station then barricaded the stairs back to the basement and surface above.
“How much longer can they keep this up?” Danny had taken to pacing the small room they were back to using as a command center.
He’d grown increasingly rattled with every explosion, roaring through the last hour and slowly peeling his nerves back to raw wires.
Winnie had checked on Tris numerous times; she was in an adjacent room with the few remaining chanters still able to channel magic. They’d erected a force field to support the lower basement ceiling. It seemed to be holding well so far.
Winnie walked over to where Danny was pacing and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’re all terrified. It’s okay to show it.” She gestured around the room.
Morgan and Victor sat together nearby, fingers braided and white knuckled. Her mom was across the room, twins in her lap. She was rocking back and forth, softly crooning as they rested their heads on her chest. Only Maria seemed unaffected, though maybe not. She’d disassembled and reassembled her pistols at least twenty times in the last few hours.
“The good news,” Winnie raised her voice so the others could hear, “is that it can’t get any worse than this or Kane would have unleashed it already.”
“How do you know?” Danny asked. “And this is bad enough. How long can they keep this up? They have to run out of ammo eventually.”
A massive explosion—even larger and louder than usual—knocked everyone from their feet. Then a crashing sounded in the passageway outside.
Winnie leapt to her feet, then skidded to a stop just outside their room.
The stairway up, which they had barricaded with boxes and furniture, had collapsed inward. The room next to the stairs had caved in as well. She could hear cries for help among the groaning wounded inside.
“Hold on!” she shouted, running up to the rubble that had spilled out of the caved in room. “We’ll get you out of there!”
Another massive explosion sent Winnie back to her feet.
She opened her eyes in time to see a part of the concrete ceiling cleave above her. She had less than a second to roll, avoiding the slab of concrete slamming down from above.
Danny and the others came running out of the central room.
“Winnie!” Danny’s voice was ripe with terror. “Winnie, where are you?”
“I’m here,” she called out, raising her hand in the dim light from their battery operated lanterns.
“Thank God,” Danny said running over. “I thought you’d been crushed.”
“The people in that room need help.” Winnie pointed toward the caved-in room. She blinked away the dust and stared at what was left of a stairway and a door. The rest of the ceiling had collapsed. And now there was nothing but a continuous pile of rubble where the room had once been.
And that little part of the world was entirely silent.
Tears stung her eyes. She clutched Danny close. Then another explosion shook the subbasement.
Winnie scrambled to her feet and stumbled into the next room. Tris sat on the floor in the center of the room with Frannie, Parnell, and a cluster of ten or so chanter recruits seated around her. Her brow was furrowed in concentration but Winnie could see Tris’s haunted eyes.
Winnie said, “A few more of those and the hospital is our headstone.”
Tris shook her head. “That isn’t a conventional weapon. I sense some sort of magic with each explosion, but it’s unlike any magic I’ve ever felt. The black magic seems sticky. It’s tearing apart the force field a bit with each blast. Residue attaches to the shield and sort of melts it away, and always faster than I can repair it.”
“It’s the Fell,” Winnie said.
Another explosion almost knocked Winnie from her feet.
Cracks in the concrete were like webs in the ceiling.
This was going to end soon. She had to do something.
She drew Excalibur and …
Winnie stopped herself.
Is this the right time?
She moved to the center of the circle next to Tris, then sat and raised the sword upright before her, its pommel resting on the concrete floor, the blade pointing toward the drooping ceiling.
She closed her eyes, tried to draw directly on the Fae magic, just as she’d done by the Lake. She held her focus even as another explosion roared through the room. More shouts. More cries. More agony from subbasement.
Then she felt it.
The Fae, sending a trickle of power her way.
She pushed at the tiny portal. It yawned and the flow of magic grew thicker.
Power poured into her and she pushed it to Tris.
Her friend gasped, consumed. “Oh, my,” she muttered.
“I don’t know how long I can hold this flow, Tris. Do something with it quick before it runs out.”
Tris nodded and closed her eyes.
Another explosion rocked the room. A chunk of concrete fell on one of the chanter recruits and knocked her unconscious, unless she was dead.
She worried about the weakened field. Winnie probed outward, checking on Tris. She was lacing the Fae’s magic through the spell to support the force field, helping it to fight back against the Fell’s sticky black residue filtering down through the rubble above.
The next explosion still shook the room but there were no more cracks.
It was working.
But fatigue was tearing through Winnie. She was a car that was already out of gas and only coasting from momentum.
She couldn’t hold out much longer.
One way o
r another, this would all be over soon.
“Tris,” Winnie murmured. “Can you hold it?”
Tris didn’t answer. Winnie struggled to hold.
“That’s it,” Tris finally said. “I’ve done it! You can let go—I think we can hold it.”
The world closed around her before Winnie could whisper her thanks.
CHAPTER 43
Another blast shook the valley floor.
General Couch watched, steeling his face to a mask of dispassion as he surveyed the barrage. The explosions were like nothing he’d ever seen, causing his soldiers on this hill two miles away to lose their footing.
He steadied himself, looking into the valley through his binoculars. It was hard to see through the smoke and haze. The earth itself burned for two miles in every direction. Every plant, tree, and blade of yellowed grass had been burned to ash. Fire licked the world.
The buildings below were now rubble. This was true devastation.
Even in Europe, Couch had never seen anything like it.
“That was the last of the special rounds, General,” said someone behind him.
Couch turned and saw the artillery captain standing behind him. He flinched, turning his eyes from the valley as if burned by the view.
“Well done, Captain. You can stand down. Get your crews something to eat.”
“Will we be firing more?” An unusual question from a junior officer to a senior, but Couch let it pass.
“I don’t think so, son. We’ve done enough for today. Nothing could have survived that last barrage.” He looked back down at the valley. “We’re packing up and going home. There’s nothing here.”
The captain’s shoulders sagged in relief. He turned and walked back towards his guns. Couch had been ordered to fire until the shells were all gone. And now they were.
“Major,” Couch called out, spotting his chief of staff nearby.
The major saluted. “Yes, sir?”
“Tell your troops to stand down. Prepare to pack up and pull back.”
“We’re finished?” The major said. “Shouldn’t we check for survivors or something?”
“Do you think anything survived that?” Couch gestured to the still-burning valley. “There’s nothing left, Major. Not even bodies. Get us loaded up and back to the capital. The Director will have plenty more for us to do.”
Couch took another long look at the devastation then turned away. “Make sure the troops get some rest. We all deserve a break from this.”
Except for me.
Couch climbed inside his command truck. It was time to leave this place.
And good riddance.
But the general knew that although this was the first time he’d witnessed such complete devastation, it probably wouldn’t be the last.
This civil war was far from over.
CHAPTER 44
Winnie couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.
Her foggy waking mind was filled with confusion.
Am I blind?
“Is anyone there? Danny, Mom, Tris?”
Movement to her right. She turned and blinked. Still nothing.
Then a light flickered to life in the darkness. She flinched back from it, the brightness of the battery-operated lantern too much for her widened pupils.
She squinted into the light, trying to get her bearings.
Then Winnie remembered.
She pulled her scabbard close and scanned the room.
People were sprawled across the floor, asleep on the concrete.
A few sat up when the light came on, surprised by the brightness.
“Good,” rasped a voice nearby. “You’re awake.”
Turning towards the light, she saw someone unfamiliar. His face and hair were caked with dust and blood: Danny, leaning against the concrete wall, holding the lantern.
He smiled. “You should see how you look.”
She rolled to her hands and knees then crawled to him. She reached up, touched the blood on his face.
“You’re hurt.”
“Most of the blood isn’t mine,” he said. “We spent yesterday clearing rooms. They caved in despite the shield. There were a few survivors, but they probably won’t make it. A lot of time—”
“Wait,” Winnie said, confused. “Yesterday? How long have I been asleep?”
“More than twenty-four hours, though it’s hard to tell down here. Most watches and electronics stopped working during that last shelling. Tris said it was the shockwaves or something. We’ve only had a few working lanterns and are conserving our batteries.”
“Why doesn’t Tris or someone charm them?” Winnie asked.
“Because,” said another voice. “Magic doesn’t work here anymore. No one can touch or sense it. It’s as if it never existed.”
Winnie looked into the corner shadows and saw Tris, sitting up from where she’d been lying. She looked haggard, covered in fine white dust.
Winnie tried to reach out and grasp for the magic.
But like Tris said, there was nothing there.
No flows. No ribbons. Not a single thread to tug on.
Nothing had ever felt so empty.
She pulled Excalibur from its scabbard. Gripping the hilt, she closed her eyes and reached for the Fae. In her mind’s eye, Winnie saw blackness all around her. There was a hint of something in the distance, too far for her.
After spending several seconds trying to pull the distant sensation closer, she relaxed her mind and opened her eyes.
“Magic isn’t gone everywhere. I can sense it, far away. Whatever Kane did at the end of the battle during that final barrage somehow blocked our access to it somehow.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that we’re all trapped down here,” Tris said.
“Isn’t someone trying to dig us out?” Winnie asked.
“Victor organized a team to try and dig us out via the stairwell,” Danny said. “It’s clogged with rubble and debris, but he says he can feel fresh air flowing down the shaft. They’re taking a break but will be back at it soon.”
“Good.” Winnie needed to give her friends something positive to focus on now that she was awake. Magic wasn’t gone and they had a way to get out.
“Once we’re free of this place, we can get back on our feet and find help.” Winnie locked eyes with each of her friends until they returned her smile. “Let’s get everyone together and bust the hell out of here.”
Soon everyone was up and gathered around Winnie. There were fewer than fifty survivors. It had been a brutal battle for everyone, but she still had one more dog in this fight.
She scanned the crowd. She saw Danny, Victor, Tris, Morgan, her mother, and Maria all standing nearby. She saw Fiona and Jacob, both of them smiling—almost beaming—at her. Frannie and Parnell stood beside them. Garraldi was resting nearby, still alive despite the severity of his wounds.
“It’s good to sort of see you all,” she finally said. Laughter rippled through the darkness. “We’ve all lost. So many friends and comrades, gone. It is in their memory that I speak to you all. We cannot allow their sacrifice to be in vain, or their deaths and all that they’ve fought for get lost to the world. The Battle of Fort Brick must become a rallying cry in the continuing fight against Kane and all that he stands for.”
Winnie paused and studied the crowd, giving them all a moment for her words to sink in before she continued.
“This fight is far from over. There are chanters and middlings out there ready to join our cause in cities around the United Americas, waiting for us to send word of our survival so that they can raise their weapons alongside us. But first we must leave here. First we must escape this prison Kane has left us in.”
She took a step forward, her voice more commanding.
“It’s been two days since we came down here. We’ve been left for dead. Let us rise up and show the world that our revolution will not die, no matter what they throw at us. Let’s show Kane that we will always come back to stand against him
and his tyranny until he’s answered for all that he’s done.”
Still staring out at the crowd, Winnie saw something she hadn’t seen before. Glimmers of hope. A few grim smiles breaking through the gloom.
She pointed to Victor, standing beside her.
“Victor says we can dig our way out. We don’t need magic—just our bare hands and the determination to be free. So that’s what we’ll do, around the clock, until we’re free of this place.”
Victor stepped forward. “Those of you who feel up to helping me, meet me by the stairwell entrance. I’ll organize you all into shifts. Everyone else, find another way to help. Whether that means making the wounded more comfortable, or helping to gather the remaining supplies and distribute what little food and water we have left to those who need it most. Let’s work together to get out of here.”
The crowd dispersed. Most of the Dusters started towards the work parties forming in the hallway. Others started asking Tris and Elaine how they could help with the wounded or distributing supplies.
Winnie smiled at everyone who came up to thank her.
They had no working clocks or watches, but Winnie estimated it took another twenty four hours of round-the-clock work to clear all the rubble from the stairwell and move the debris that covered the entrance above. Victor came to get her when they finally broke through to the outside.
“Winnie,” Victor said, entering the room where she sat talking with Tris and her mother. “Danny just sent word from the top of the shaft. They’ve reached the top. They’re outside. He says you need to come and see.”
Winnie followed Victor to the newly cleared stairwell, or what was left of it, without asking what Danny wanted, climbing the precarious hand and footholds cut into the walls by the excavation team. She reached the surface after about ten minutes of climbing.
And then she saw what Danny wanted her to see.
The valley was a wasteland extending for several miles in every direction.
There were no buildings, ruins of buildings, trees, or anything at all. Just a massive hole in the earth where their fort and its surroundings had been days before. Soot covered the world, from Winnie’s foot to the farthest horizon.