“I don’t get how you can be so happy all the time,” he said. “Always so…chipper.” He looked back at her. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous.”
She shrugged as she took another bite of squirrel.
“When you’ve been through what I’ve been through, you don’t give yourself a choice.” She swallowed her bite and looked at Kane, her expression serious. “I know you looked through my Grimoire.” Kane started to speak, but she cut him off. “It’s okay. I trust you. I wouldn’t expect any less.” She looked up at the night sky. “I had a child. The father…he…well, he was a bastard. Found out I was Viking. Decided to show me what ‘Godless women were good for.’ I’d only met him that night.” She tossed the half-eaten meat aside, tucked her knees up, wrapped her arms around them as she stared off. “When he was done…hurting me, he just laughed.” She looked at Kane, her eyes full of tears. “I had a baby. A little girl. It was me and Lily against the world, and she didn’t live through her first year.” Tabitha’s voice cracked as tears streamed down her cheeks. She wiped her nose on her sleeve, fought through her crying as she spoke. “I…I killed my baby. I couldn’t take care of her, Kane. She was alive and happy, I put her to bed, and she went right to sleep. I woke up at her normal feeding time. She wasn’t crying. I went to check on her, and she was gone. She’d…died in her sleep. I miss her…so, so much.”
Kane wanted to comfort her. Wanted to tell her anything to help. He was stuck with no idea what to say to her. He pulled her close as she began to weep, let her cry into his chest as he watched one of the women help the pregnant mother off the stool and lead her into the barracks.
* * *
Kane decided to go for a walk. Tabitha had cried herself out, and the shelter was limited. He’d picked her up and carried her inside the barracks with the rest of the women and children. The men had opted to sleep outside, both to give the women the shelter and to keep watch. Kane had missed the vote while he was taking care of Tabitha, but it didn’t matter. There were more than enough willing to volunteer.
The humidity wasn’t as thick as it’d been in the marshlands of South Carolina, the sea air crisp and clean. Instead of mildew mixed, the air carried the smells of palm trees and grass. Kane took in a deep breath, the lighter air a relief. South Carolina had been the first place he’d been to where the air actually had feeling of breathing through a wet blanket. He didn’t know how Nick and Wil dealt with it.
Nick and Wilhelmina. They’d turned their backs on him. On the Revolution. He couldn’t fault them. They weren’t wrong. It wasn’t their fight. They lived in seclusion, away from all of that. They didn’t rely on, or need the Oligarch money to stay alive. To thrive. Still, Kane couldn’t make sense of the idea of letting others suffer. It made him a little angry with them for not joining in. Helping the Revolution.
Kane turned his thoughts to Tabitha. Her confession haunted him. He cursed himself for being an idiot to think that she couldn’t know what real tragedy was like. It explained everything, why she was the way she was. Unhinged. Unbalanced.
Tortured.
He’d had a lump in his throat ever since she’d cried herself to sleep. All the crying, the high emotions, none of it was because she was overly sensitive. She was suffering. It was all still an open case for her, something unresolved. Something keeping her from moving on. She had no idea why Lily died. It couldn’t have been Tabitha’s fault. She was loving, doting, attentive. There had to be something else.
He’d never “gotten over” his parents, but at least there had been closure. He knew how they died.
He set it aside, filed it in with everything else going on. He’d make it part of his fight. He had to. For her.
Kane heard the ocean in the distance, looked up ahead to see sand dunes covered in the stiff grass and weed that grew around him. He made his way up the dune, looked out over the beach as the dark waves capped and crashed, the surf stirring with a hypnotic and soothing sound. He looked off to the left and saw a figure in the moonlight sitting on top of the dunes several yards away. Farnsworth didn’t acknowledge him, his eyes staring over the surf, his features drawn and tired.
Kane made his way toward the captain, sat down next to him, looking out over the surf.
“I’ve only seen the coast from an airship before we came to the South,” Kane said, not looking at Farnsworth. “Never really been this close to it.” He turned his head to the captain.
“It’s almost as beautiful as the sky,” Farnsworth said, his voice flat. “She sings to you, the sea. Soothes your spirits. Makes the pain dull enough to put it into perspective.” A tear rolled down his cheek, vanished into his beard.
Kane nodded.
“You and Anderson. You were involved, weren’t you?”
Farnsworth nodded.
“She was as much of a battle-ax as she claimed her mother to be.” Farnsworth wiped his face. “And just as caring, I would hope.”
“Antonia Boudreaux is one of the most caring, kindest people I know,” Kane said.
Farnsworth nodded, sighing as he looked up into the night sky. Kane looked north as well. The large, bright full moon was accompanied by another sea, this one made of stars that looked as if they’d washed the blackness in a brilliant array of glittered light.
“The Revolution was her lovechild,” Farnsworth said. “Her passion. She tired of the oppression of the former slaves in the South. She saw the downtrodden in the North, the war the Oligarchs waged against the poor and the working class. Jones went to her, and it was all she needed to reorganize the Slave Rebellion. Create the Revolution.” He shook his head. “Charleston is proof that we were no match.”
“Not with the unlimited money and power they have,” Kane said. “Gentry meant to destroy Charleston all along. He was toying with us.”
They went quiet, both staring back down at the ocean, each lost in their thoughts. Kane couldn’t tell how much time passed before Farnsworth spoke again.
“You’re a leader, Mr. Shepherd.”
“No, I’m not.”
Farnsworth turned his head, eyeing Kane.
“Despite your reluctance to accept it, you are, good sir. You took command on the airship, knew how to handle yourself in a fight. That’s twice you’ve succeeded in instance where we all should have died in fire.” Farnsworth chuckled. “I can’t rightly call you ‘Ground Hound’ anymore, now can I? If not for you, I don’t know that we would’ve escaped Charleston.”
Kane looked away from the captain and out into the distance.
“I’m not interested in leading anyone anywhere. Especially not another Revolution. You saw what happened. Anderson was a far more capable leader than me, and she lost. They have unlimited firepower, unlimited money to build and develop weapons to use against us.” Kane left out the part of them also having an evil bastard of a Magician on their side.
He figured that didn’t need saying.
Farnsworth leaned in.
“They don’t have you,” he said. “They fight for money and power. You fight for others. One of those will always end up the victor, Mr. Shepherd.”
Kane looked at him.
“I’m asking a monumental thing of you, Kane,” Farnsworth said, looking him in the eye. “And I hold no regrets for that because I’ve seen you overcome monumental things. Will you fight with us?”
Kane looked back at him, his jaw set.
“No.”
Farnsworth looked away, his shoulders slumping.
“I understand.”
“The hell you do.”
Farnsworth chuckled.
“You’re right, Mr. Shepherd. I do not understand why someone would choose to live under oppression.”
“Because it’s me and Tabitha they want. Gentry wants us dead, and he wants our books. He’ll kill anyone who gets in his way. We stay away, they leave people alone. Pretty simple.”
Farnsworth started to argue when something shimmered out near the water. The moonlight shone d
own on a figure walking toward them, steady and slow. It stopped, looking up at them, blonde hair still in the breeze.
Tabitha smiled up at Kane. Farnsworth stood.
“I’ll give you a moment with your lass.”
“Don’t bother,” said Kane. “She’s not really here.”
Tabitha scrunched her nose playfully at him. Her smile faded as she stared at him, her mouth turning into a small frown.
“Come back,” she said. “Something bad.”
Kane was on his feet, his legs pumping before Farnsworth could ask him what was going on, before he could witness Tabitha’s Astral Projection fade. He stretched his hearing as he ran, listening for airship turbines and gunfire.
Nothing.
He was back at the fort quicker than he’d expected. The place was dead silent. He heard the sounds of people breathing deep, some snoring.
He focused on the barracks, listened for Tabitha.
“I know you can hear me, Kane,” she said, her voice a whisper. “Meet me out back.”
“Wait, Shepherd!”
Kane looked over his shoulder as Farnsworth staggered into the camp, breathing heavily.
“Keep your eyes open,” Kane said to him. “Be ready for an attack. Just in case.”
Farnsworth nodded, and Kane left him, making his way around to the opposite side of the barracks. Tabitha waited for him, standing quietly with her arms crossed in front of her. She looked calm, even pleasant, staring up at the starry night sky as she waited patiently for Kane. She looked at him as he approached.
“What is it?” Kane asked, out of breath.
She shook her head slowly, her eyes tearing up as she spoke.
“Bad,” she said, her voice low, her words almost a mumble. “All bad. I saw it.”
“Saw what?”
“In my dreams,” she said. She put her hands on her head as if trying to ward off a painful headache. “Hidden Valley…so many of them.” She began to breathe rapidly, her legs shaking. Kane caught her as she started to collapse, helped ease her down to the ground in a sitting position, her legs out in front of her. “Two hundred…two hundred…gone. All of them. Fire…in fire…”
Farnsworth rounded the corner as the back door to the barracks opened, several of the women looking out to see what was going on. Wilson and a few of the men followed Farnsworth.
“What’s going on?” Wilson asked.
Kane ignored him, keeping his eyes on Tabitha. She looked up at him, pleading as she grasped his arm.
“Kane…they’re in trouble. Gentry…he went home.” Her voice lowered to a whisper as she leaned in closer. “He went home.”
Every alarm Kane had in his body went off, every hair on his neck standing on end.
Hidden Valley. Christ.
Kane looked up at Wilson.
“Get the men going. Fire up the boilers. We’re leaving as soon as everyone’s ready.”
“Sir?”
“Do it.”
Wilson nodded.
“Sir, yes sir!” He turned to the other men and started giving orders, dispersing them about.
Kane stood, helping Tabitha to her feet. He looked at Farnsworth.
“Are there any cities still standing in the South that were at least friendly to the Revolution? The Slave Rebellion? Anywhere?”
“Loganville,” Farnsworth said. “It’s a small farming community in Georgia. Why?”
“Because that’s where we’re dropping off everyone but who we need to fly an airship.”
“Where are we going, Mr. Shepherd?”
Kane helped Tabitha make her way toward the barracks, the women reaching out to help her in as he let her go and turned to Farnsworth.
“Back to New Chicago. We’re going home.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The sun was just starting to turn the sky a morning blue, its rays still painting the clouds with streaks of orange when the airship flew over what was left of Atlanta. Kane looked down from the observation deck as the charred buildings and broken streets passed by below. People moved about the makeshift marketplace, the shades over the booths nothing more than patchwork rags as the day’s goods were traded and sold. Many looked up at the airship, watching as it passed over. Kane knew the look. They didn’t care so much about an airship as they did about who the airship might belong to. The Revolution hadn’t marked it when they’d fixed it up. No markings meant no Union or Union-Friendly Confederates.
One would hope.
“Loganville is only another click from here,” Wilson said from the navigation table. “Maybe an hour.” Kane looked over his shoulder and saw the kid marking out the route on the make, walking the compass along as he did. “Keep North-Northeast, Captain.”
“Aye, Mr. Wilson,” Farnsworth said. He sighed. “Atlanta. Another punishment from the Union Oligarchs for the South daring to claim victory. Such a waste.”
What am I doing? Kane thought as he turned back to the window, back to watching Atlanta pass by below. Tabitha’s vision had been disturbing. She hadn’t elaborated on much, her vision being foggy and shadowed. But she’d been clear on one thing: Hidden Valley was in trouble. If Gentry had laid siege to the place, it would be quick. The people had no way to fight back against a military insurgence. Good people. Innocent people. All just trying to survive.
Just like the people from Charleston, now refugees aboard an unmarked airship.
Just like the people who hadn’t been able to escape the city before the Special Forces laid it to fire and destruction.
Kane turned away from the window.
“Look alive, Wilson,” Farnsworth said over his shoulder. “Captain on deck!” He grinned at Kane, chuckling at his own little joke.
Kane rolled his eyes.
“Gonna go look for Tabitha. Let me know when we’re about to land?”
“Aye, sir!” Wilson saluted Kane as he spoke.
“Stop it.”
“Yessir!”
Kane shook his head as he left through the door, the sound of Farnsworth’s loud and jovial laughter behind him.
He smiled. It was good to have the captain back.
Kane made his way down to the cargo deck, which had been made up into a community quarters. The original intention hadn’t been for refugees fleeing a burning city, but they’d managed to makeshift it into something that suited their basic needs. Kane couldn’t deny being impressed by the fact that the men had banded together without hesitation, making the accommodations in the cargo hold in midair. The people had only brought a few bare necessities, only enough to get by. But they shared and used everything they had to help those in need. No blanket? Mine’s big enough for two or three. I have an extra shirt. My husband took his shirt off because the heat. Cover yourself up.
Kane watched from the doorway as the crowd sat around, the exchanges going back and forth more naturally than he’d ever imagined.
The way it should be.
Tabitha spoke from behind.
“Reminds you of Hidden Valley, doesn’t it?”
Kane turned to her, nodding.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah it does.”
She moved to him, put her arms around him in an embrace. He held her close, ran his hand down her back over her hair.
“Guess that answers my question.”
She pulled back, looking at him.
“Question?”
“How’re you holding up?”
She shrugged.
“Can’t shake that vision. Can’t tell if it’s happened, or if it’s going to happen later. It’s all so cloudy.”
“Farnsworth says he knows the place in Loganville we’re going to,” Kane said. “Says the man running it is a friend. You should be able to relax there. Maybe it’ll clear up then.”
Tabitha pulled away, moved past Kane into the cargo room. She leaned against the wall next to the door.
“Maybe I don’t want it to clear up,” she said. “It’s scary, Kane. It’s our home.”
K
ane moved in front of her, looked into her eyes as he spoke.
“We’ve been through scarier. We’ll make it through this.”
Farnsworth’s voice barked out of the speaker above the door. The chatter died down as people listened.
“We’re twenty minutes from landing, ladies and gentlemen. All able-bodied men report to Mr. Benson at once for your tasks.”
Kane sighed.
“Time to go to work.”
* * *
Farnsworth guided the airship down onto the landing pad perfectly, following the direction of the flag man outside precisely. Kane reported in to Benson, who assigned him to the landing rig along with four other men. Six men were sent to the gunnery deck, the assignment more of a formality than anything. Farnsworth had assured Kane earlier that they were among friends in Loganville, but it was unwise to have the defenses unmanned for any reason.
“You never know if those friends have been occupied. Or corrupted,” the captain had said.
The refugees filed out of the cargo hold, each carrying what was left of their worldly belongings. Kane followed behind Farnsworth and Wilson, Tabitha close to his side as he looked around the area. Men stood armed with blunderbusses, dressed in regular clothing. No uniforms.
No Special Forces.
A younger black man approached Farnsworth, stood stiff and gave a salute.
“Sir, your vessel is welcome.”
Farnsworth returned the salute, nodding.
“At ease, Private,” he said. “We formally request passage to the Haven.”
The Private nodded.
“Jimmy Catch is expecting you. You may only take your officers with you. All other passengers and crew must remain until cleared.”
“Aye, my boy. Agreed.” Farnsworth nodded to Wilson. “This is my first mate, Benjamin Wilson. He goes where I go.” The Captain nodded to Kane and Tabitha. “These two also.”
“Come along then,” the kid said. “I’ll notify the guard of four.”
* * *
Kane felt some relief to see that the ride to the plantation, the place they’d called “The Haven,” wasn’t via carriage. He’d been cooped up too long on the airship, and the fresh air was welcome. The cart still had remnants of the hay bales it’d hauled earlier strewn about, the benches makeshift and low.
Gaslit Armageddon (Clockworks of War Book 2) Page 27