by Jason Luthor
“And then you became a raider yourself.”
“Well, living in the territory of a man like Daniel Pearson, there’s not many ways of moving up in the world that don’t involve violence. I didn’t see any other choice.”
She straightens up, and when she does, it’s like she gains a few inches. Seven feet of black armor and intimidation, but the eyes that look at me from underneath the mask are full of compassion. “This fight isn’t going to make everything right in the world, but it will make the world better for everyone who comes after us. There’s a little girl I’m fighting for, too.”
“Daughter?”
“No.” She laughs. “I’m barely old enough to even think about having kids, but she’s a lot like me. If I ever did want kids, having a girl like her wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Funny thing. After I met Ishara and Tara, I realized I couldn’t be the old gunner I used to be. Suddenly, I was fighting for someone other than myself. Fighting for something bigger than myself. Ishara and Tara helped us build this place. Somewhere we could put some roots down and have families. If you turn out to be half the woman they were, then I’ve got big hopes for the future.”
She raises a glass of water to me. “To Tara and Ishara.”
I can’t help but return the gesture with my glass of whisky. “To Tara and Ishara.”
Dodger’s Recording 21
I’m rubbing my temples as I talk into my mic, Colonel Martin sitting beside me. “Patel. Yazzie. You’re both there?”
He answers first. “I am.”
She replies second. “With you, lieutenant.”
“Alright. I wanted to talk to you one last time just because this is all going to happen soon, and I need to keep my head clear about where everyone’s going to be.”
Yazzie says back, “We’re here to help, even if that just means listening.”
“Okay. So, we know that when Jackie gets Yousef to move his troops, they’re all going to cross north to reinforce Fort Silence using Martial Bridge. When we get word from our people that the last of the forces Yousef is moving have crossed over, we’re going to start our evacuation. The island’s 13 miles long so there’s no way we can get everyone off, but we can do our best. We’ll start by moving our people in the south across Freedom Bridge and into Second Freedom. With most of Yousef’s forces off the island, the militia is going to have to fight to take the bridge and open the way south.
“That means moving everyone from the Governance District down, or basically everyone from 23rd street and south of it. That’s thousands of people, and the militia’s going to be working overtime to protect them. Realistically, we’re only going to get so many across. When it becomes clear that Dravic’s responding to stop us, we’re going to have to make some hard calls.” I catch a glimpse from Colonel Martin as I’m saying it. “I mean, I’m going to have to make some hard calls. Anyone caught above 23rd street without any way to get off the island will have to move to the old sports stadium in the Shoreline District. The one they call the Garden. It’s a place we can defend pretty easily and hopefully hold until reinforcements come, but we don’t want to move too many people there too early. We don’t want a lot of people trapped in Central, and the Garden is too close to Central Primary.”
Patel speaks up. “That’s still a lot of ground to cover for people on foot. From 23rd street to Freedom Bridge, there’s about four miles to walk.”
“We’ve got two other positions where people can settle in if things get bumpy. The old courthouse and city hall buildings are pretty sturdy. The militia will have to hold the fields around them to protect the people inside, but . . . that’s just the way it is.”
“Where’s the other spot for people to go?”
“If they’re south of the Garden but north of the old city hall, then there’s that old university near Washington Square Park. You didn’t really get this information since it wasn’t important to your orders, since you’ll be helping people north of midtown.”
“Got it.”
“Anyone north of midtown but west of the Green Zone will be evacuating west, across Colonial Bridge. We’ve got colonies on the other side that can take incoming immediately, and it’s a place where the militia can settle in and guard against any of Dravic’s forces pushing across the bridge. Anyone living around there who can’t make it to the bridge should move east into the Green Zone itself, where we’ll have most of the militia fall back once people are safely off the island and it’s clear we can’t get anyone else away. People coming from the north of the island will have to go to the Green Zone too, since they’ll be too far away from Colonial Bridge to evacuate, and we can’t send them north over Militia Bridge. That’d be sending them to die at the hands of Yousef’s troops. Same thing for those living in the districts east of the Green Zone. We can’t send them east. We’ve never set up a successful colony out there, so that’d only be sending them to die in the Creep. This means that half the population of Central’s going to end up settling into an area that’s less than three miles long and half a mile wide.”
Yasmine interrupts. “Are we hoping to push back?”
“I’d like to. We’ll have the numbers advantage, but Yousef’s got all the heavy weapons on his side, the tanks and power armor. I’m thinking that by splitting up his forces even more, by forcing them to go west and south, we’ll have a fighting chance of defending the Green Zone. He’s not going to obliterate it. It’s where all the food he needs to run Central is grown. So, we’ll use that to our advantage. By holding up in the Zone, we’ll force him to go easy on the heavy weaponry. Meanwhile, our militia forces on the bridges will get reinforcements from the colonies and push back if the situation is friendly to them. I’m leaving that in the hands of our officers. They’ll be in touch with me and I’ll coordinate any responses.”
Martin nods. “It’s as good as any plan we can come up with to move tens of thousands of people off the island.”
“Well, you did make it,” I say as I smile at him. “If things look like they’re getting really bad, the outer colonies will have to start evacuating south, to Zone Delaware. It’ll be the only place for our people to go if Yousef holds Central.”
Yasmin speaks up one more time. “Worst case scenario. What do we end up doing?”
“Worst case scenario? We end up doing the only thing that’s reasonable,” I tell her as I take a deep breath. “Getting everyone over to the colonies as we can and then destroying the bridges to Central Freedom behind us. Yousef and Dravic may have the resources to repair military hardware, and there might be great scientists, but there’s nobody in our world that could build bridges that big. There just isn’t the infrastructure or the planning. It’d cut off Central from the Deadlands for years. There wouldn’t be any way for Yousef to move troops against Zone Delaware without flying everybody over, and even Yousef doesn’t have the ability to fly tanks and multiple suits of power armor without wasting a lot of resources. We’d be splitting up the last of humanity for the foreseeable future though, so . . . let’s make sure it doesn’t come to that.”
Erins’s Recording 03
I wave a hand at the table in front of her. “While, speaking honestly, there are too many clans out there to count, these four individuals represent the most influential voices among the people of the Deadlands.” I watch Jackie’s eyes go between all of them, looking each of them in your eyes. “You may have heard of them, but I doubt you’ve seen them. At least, I doubt you’ve seen most of them. The older gentleman on your right’s Daniel Pearson. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you he has control over the largest number of able-bodied individuals outside of Central.”
Daniel bows his head, his keen eyes peering out between those bushy eyebrows and his deep voice grumbling out from beneath his tumbling gray beard. “Only the Tank ever rallied more men and women to her cause than I did.”
“It’s true.” I wave further down the table. “That there’s Ashanti Bonsu. You’ve likely had run ins with
her people. They used to live pretty close to Central.”
“Some still do,” Ashanti adds as she leans across the table, her colorful dress cascading around her as she folds her hands together. “They prefer to roam free than be behind walls.”
“Well, can’t say she’s lying. Lots in the clans are like that. This here,” I say with a motion to my left, “Is Marc Lopez. Drinks, drinks more, kills his enemies like an expert.”
Marc raises a glass, his pale features hidden by that short trimmed beard of his. “The killing’s for my people, on the record.”
“Sure it is, Marc,” I say as I motion to one final person at the end of the table. “And that would be Ned Whitney Lancaster. I believe you know each other.
She nods to him. “Thank you again for your help.”
Ned nods back to her, leaning back in his chair as his fur cloak falls around him. “No need, Angel. I serve the greater good.”
Daniel’s eyebrow cocks upward at that as he grins over at Neddy. “Always the paragon, eh Ned? Not a rotten bone in your body.”
“I try to honor my father.”
“Yes, your father. The one who tried to work with the dogs at Central. How’d that work out for him?”
I raise my hand. “Gentlemen, I believe we have bigger issues to worry about. As I said in my message to all of you, it seems clear to me that Yousef tried to start us fighting with each other. Let’s not be holding Central accountable for the crimes of a mad warlord.”
Pearson looks back at me. “Go on then, Erin. You were the one who originally convinced us to throw in with the Tank. What do you have to say now?”
I lean in. “Listen, I know that none of us sitting at this table’s happy, but I don’t think I have to remind everyone here that we’re not done with this war. There’s a power-hungry madman preparing to march on the Deadlands. Eventually, he’s going to turn his sights here. We all originally sided with the Tank for this reason, to destroy the people wiping us out. There’s no point in having a home here in the south when there’s a Panzer and a flying warship waiting out there to wipe us out.”
Ashanti looks over at the Angel. “Is this why you’ve called us together, then? To see if we would fight with you against the general?”
She nods. “I know that I deserve your hatred. I didn’t directly kill the Tank, but I played a part. I didn’t know it was going to happen, but I let myself be a tool for Yousef. More than that, I know that I’ve made life hell for some of your people over the last year.”
“You destroyed operations meant to resupply our people.”
“In fairness, I don’t know who your people are out there and who isn’t. Let’s not pretend that every raider out there’s being handed down orders by any of you. There are still vicious people out there exploiting innocent people.” She shakes her head. “And let’s not forget that the current fight between the raiders and Central started because someone wiped out an innocent colony at Perth.” Her eyes go to Neddy. “At Proprietary Colony, the same place where one of your old chiefs tried to make a home for his people. Somebody disrespected his legacy, what he’d fought for. I understand Central isn’t innocent, but all this fighting needed a spark. Afterward, everything started spiraling out of control.”
Ashanti nods. “As you say . . . fair enough. You do know that they were punished though?”
“Yes, I know.”
“There was no reason for what you did in the Arrowheads. There was no reason to kill so many . . .”
I’m forced to interrupt. “Just, to put a pin on the matter. Yes, there were clansmen out here who killed those people at the Proprietary Colony. They were punished accordingly. It was likely Yousef who attacked your people, Ashanti. That’s when I started arguing with the Tank that we needed to move on Central. Is it fair to say that we were manipulated?”
Ashanti takes a long breath and closes her eyes. “Yes. It seems we were manipulated from the start.”
“Fantastic. Then that means our real enemy’s out there. We’ve all known this from the start. We’ve all known that even if Central’s where the food is, it’s Yousef who’s got the guns. If you want justice for your people, you’re going to have to consider what the Angel’s proposing.”
Marc waves a hand. “Yes, it is true that we all want to defeat Yousef. But with the Angel? She’s not one of us.”
“No, but she’s calling us to fight our common enemy. Surely that requires consideration?”
Neddy takes a deep breath as he taps a little on the table. “We have a common enemy, and we were former allies with Central. We never had that with Fort Silence. My father forged a peace between the clans faithful to him and the city. We can do so again, this time to defeat Yousef.”
That gets another grumbling from Pearson, who slams the table with that massive hand of his. “Are you all so young that you don’t remember the Butchering Field? Fort Silence was still part of a union with Central when that happened. But you all have the guts to sit here and talk if they’re different.”
The Angel raises a hand, trying to get a word in. “Ishara talked about the Butchering Field, in her recordings, but she didn’t actually explain what they were. Can you at least tell me what that is?”
“What that is?” His eyes burned like stoked coals as he turns to look at her. “You come here asking for peace without even knowing what it is your country did to us?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”
“Very well.” He waves a hand to me. “Erin should have told you. His grandfather died there, some 40 years ago. Yousef calls it Victory Field. Does that ring any bells?”
I can see the Angel take in a deep breath. “The field surrounding Fort Silence. The day the fort had its biggest victory against your clans.”
“Victory? A slaughter,” he spits out. We were summoned for peace discussions. After weeks of sending food and supplies as peace offerings, your leaders finally convinced the clans to attend a peace summit. Tens of thousands of clansmen and women, almost ten percent of our entire population, camped out in front of the walls of your fort. All of them slaughtered in a cowardly surprise attack. Your soldiers came to our camps and danced with us. They brought food and drink. They camped with us beneath the skies. Then, in the dead of night, after we’d been there for a week, they shot our people to death while they slept. Now you tell me why I should trust the word of a Central dog?”
“Do you think that everything’s been peaches out there with your people? That your hands are clean? I’m not here to point fingers at anybody, but I . . .” She shakes her head. “I was personally affected by people who raided and killed friends of mine. You’ve been hurt? I’ve been hurt too. It’s not easy for me to stand here and admit I was wrong for judging all of you just because some of you hurt me. But I’m trying, and I just want you to try and do the same thing.”
There’s this long moment when Daniel looks at her, not saying a word and just letting those eyes of his, sharpened over the long years, cut into her. “You don’t know me, or you didn’t, until today. But I knew you. I recognized you the moment we first saw video of you here, in the zone.”
“What? I don’t . . .”
“The ones you killed in the north. They were cruel. Barbaric. Perhaps they deserved to die.” He points a finger to his eye and then to her. “You killed them all, but one. A young man, barely more than a boy, left behind to record the battle. He brought us the video of you.” The Angel takes a deep breath as she stares at him, not saying a word and letting him continue. “This woman who would lead us into war against Yousef is no less a monster. I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the Creep take her over, change her into one of those beasts we fight across the Deadlands, except strong enough to wipe out an army. What happens when she loses control again and turns on us?”
Marc looks over at her. “Is this true?”
“That won’t happen again,” she tells him. “It was . . . I didn’t mean to do it. I still didn’t know how to control my pow
ers. And if you think I don’t think about it, don’t regret it . . .” Her hand wipes at her mouth as she tries to find words. “I’ve spent more time killing myself about what happened that day than anyone could imagine. I regret it with everything in me, but that isn’t who I am anymore. I won’t let anything like that happen again.”
Daniel speaks again. “And I can’t trust the word of a woman who slaughtered so many, no matter how much they deserved it. The same woman who killed the Tank. You speak about change and coming together, but you’re a mass murderer in addition to being the killer of the one person who managed to bring so many of us together.” He looks over at Ashanti. “Should I honor our traditions for a woman like that?”
Ashanti hesitates just a moment before saying anything. “Daniel, I can believe in change. I can believe in people becoming more than what they were. She is here now asking for us to fight the same fight that the Tank asked us to. I can believe in her cause.”
“And I respect that, but I cannot. I’m older than all of you. I’m the only one who saw the Butchering Field. And I’m the only one of you who’s seen the video of this person when she’s lost control of herself.” He looks at the Angel, but he doesn’t look angry. Daniel, in all the years I’ve known him, has rarely looked so conflicted. “There are more than a dozen clans and over a hundred thousand men and women who look to me to protect them. Over a hundred thousand who call the Wild Forests their home. Of those, tens of thousands of able bodied fighters. But I cannot ask them to fight for you.” She takes a deep breath and looks nervous as they stare at each other from different sides of the table.