Generation Witch Year One

by Schuyler Thorpe

  “Dry off and get changed. Then meet me in in the dining room area, okay? I still need to go over a few last minute things with you.”

  “Really? Like what?”

  Alicia hesitated for a moment. “Something I should have told you months ago.” She hinted then—before leaving the bathroom.

  “Don’t take too long!”

  Tillie nodded—even though her heart was beating faster in both anticipation and dread. When it came down to the “mom talks” that she had with her mother over the last few years—not a lot of it was good advice. Just something of a stark reminder to her of how short a season things had become in the weeks since her father was killed in the riots.

  There was really no time for her to play things safe—like she did in the street back there—but that was nothing more than a brilliant stall tactic. A mother fucking bluff to keep the armies of the Third Watch at bay.

  And all because everyone with her was in a really bad position defensively. If Ashley hadn’t come along and played the spoiler, they wouldn’t have had to tangle with either Kara Plummer or anyone else hot on their trail.

  Becoming a witch came with its own price—one that Tillie believed with all her heart that she would keep paying for the rest of her life. If not her father, if not her mother or anyone else she knew—it would be those who strayed into the line of fire unwittingly and became the sacrificial pawns of the Regency Council and the Supreme Chancellor.

  That heavy realization didn’t sit well with the teen girl, but the world as she knew it was no longer caring or even nurturing. But cold and cruel in so many ways.

  Tillie put her hair up into a turban, then stepped out for a second to grab another body towel and used that to wrap herself with. Then she grabbed her clothes that were sitting placidly by for her and left the bathroom—but not before turning the overhead fan on.

  In that moment, the girl didn’t know whether or not she would return to this place she had called home for the past few years since moving from her old home in Buffalo.

  But seeing how they had no choice but to leave and seek shelter some where’s else, Tillie had to embrace the chilling futility of it all.

  From this point forward, she would be on the run. Fighting every day to survive against impossible odds. And she didn’t know who would be with her at that point.

  Would it be her mother? Would it be Sarah Winters? Or what about No-Name Charlie? What about him? What about her?

  The teenage girl sighed as she closed the door behind her—forgetting in that moment that she had left a very important article of clothing behind.

  But her mother would get it—if not her. So she returned to her room and closed the door—immediately smelling how stale and musty the air was in the room.

  Going over to the window, she unlocked it and slid it back until it clicked and took in the first real breath of fresh air since coming home.

  From here, she could still see the lights of this part of the city—every one of them flickering and weak. The girl must have figured that the solar batteries powering the island were already seriously drained after the heavy demand being placed on them since this part of the island was surreptitiously cut off from the rest of the world by both the Regency Council and the armies of the Third Watch.

  Then like magic, a quarter of them went out on the spot.

  Brownout. The girl realized with sudden worry—thinking that their apartment would be next. Farther in, the girl could see twinkling lights and the steady dull roaring sound of heavy machinery even from here and the girl couldn’t imagine the type of horrors which would soon become a new reality for them all.

  But somewhere in the back of her mind, Tillie imagined herself saving the whole city single-handedly with everyone by her side and in the end…?

  She would get to kiss the guy of her choice.

  Then she resumed toweling off her head and getting herself all nice and dry so that she could get into her change of clothes. After a quick powder treatment followed by some strategically placed dabs of perfume along the neck, wrists, and a few other spots on her body—Tillie threw the loose fitting tee shirt over her head and pulled it down until it reached her exposed belly button and then she went hunting for a clean pair of panties and put those and then the tight fitting pants which ended at bell bottoms around her ankles—then socks—and finally her long boots which she finished tying the second her mother knocked on the door.

  Looking up, she said, “Yes?”

  “Are you almost done, dear?” Her mother asked, coming in—carrying her new cloak; burnished red on the outside and velvet black on the inside.

  The girl nodded, standing up and walking around a bit to get the feel of her boots.

  Her mother stepped forward with the cloak—draping it over her daughter’s small shoulders and helping her into it.

  “There,” she said with a bit of pride in her voice. “You look so regal in your grandmother’s old cloak.”

  Tillie stretched out her arms, willing the magic to come to her as she adjusted to the fact that this cloak was much different than her standard night cloak.

  Her hands exploded with righteous fury as she called up one of her favorite incantations—just as the overhead light snapped off without warning—plunging the whole room into darkness.

  A few alarms were heard going off in the distance, followed by one loud wail of the now obsolete emergency sirens which were still somehow tied into the system.

  “Damn,” her mother breathed. “That must mean our block is out of power as well.”

  Tillie approached her bedroom window, extinguishing her incantations on the fly. If there’s one thing that her mother taught her—it was not to make a visible target of yourself.

  Looking out at this darkened part of the city block, the girl could see that the fresh blackout stretched eight city blocks in all directions.

  There was no light source anywhere.

  A chirp was heard in the bedroom as the smoke alarm began to beep insistently and both of them tensed—then relaxed—when they realized that nothing bad was about to come their way.

  “This is going to make the trip back even more interesting than before.” The girl quietly noted.

  Her mother nodded as she stood on the other side of the open window.

  “Yes, but let’s get going. We’re going to have a long night ahead of us.” She said—before closing the sliding window and locking it.

  Tillie nodded. “Fair enough. Let’s go.” She said—letting her mother lead the way out.

  Emergency light strips along the wall and baseboards glowed like something that had come directly from the tenth level of hell—which made their job a bit easier by here.

  “Here.” Her mother said—once they reached the dining room table—pushing one loaded gunny sack and her backpack into her waiting arms.

  “I want you to go ahead of me.”

  Tillie stared at her mother in disbelief.

  “What? Why?” She wanted to know up front.

  “Don’t argue, sweetie. Just do as I say. All right?”

  The girl hesitated for a second. “Does this have anything to do with the encounter with that woman three hours ago?”

  “I wish I could say that Captain Kara Plummer is the least of your worries, Tillamook. But it’s not.”

  “Plummer? The Ice Queen of Brooklyn? That Plummer?”

  Alicia nodded. “The one and the same. Your just lucky she was in a more forgiving mood. She normally kills without mercy. Without hesitation. Your little…game with her amused her more than came off sounding as a credible threat to her authority.”

  “So why did she let us go?”

  “Maybe when there is more time to be had I would be in a much better position to explain things to you in full. But tonight is not that night.” Her mother deflected easily. Then she grabbed her only daughter into a giant bear hug and held her close to her.

  “I want you to know how much I love you. How much you have made me
so proud of you—especially tonight going against the armies of the Third Watch.”

  Tillie didn’t say anything at first. Then she said: “It sounds like you’re about to leave again. Like the last time when you and dad fought that one night.”

  Alicia laughed softly. “We did more than our fair share of fighting, sweetie. It’s what held us together through the good times and the bad. But we knew at some point that we wouldn’t be able to hold onto you much longer. You were growing up so fast. Becoming so powerful in your own right. It made your father and I realize that there would come a time when you would be kicked out of the nest for good. We had hoped that day would be on your eighteenth birthday—but I guess today is a good a time as any.”

  Tillie Gunderson swallowed heavily in that second. “So what am I…what am I supposed to do now, mom? Where am I supposed to go?”

  “Back with the others: Teena. Charlie. Reggie. Sarah and I will give you guys some time—and cover—to make it back to Level One. But after tonight, you must promise you won’t go and look for us. I want you to promise.” The woman patiently emphasized.

  “For my sake. And that of your father’s memory. Don’t waste your life fighting. You must spend every moment of your life surviving.” She said, breaking away for a moment. Then she kissed her daughter on the top of the head.

  “Find a reason to live. Find that reason to love.”

  Tillie giggled. “I don’t think that will be a problem—if I know boys.” She said. “But mom—”

  Her mother shook her head adamantly. “No more talking. It’s time for action. Time to go our separate ways—even if it pains me so.”

  Tillie nodded then. “I understand.” She offered up bravely.

  Her mother sighed heavily in quiet defeat.

  “Oh, honey. I wish I could still finish your training. There’s just so much more that you could learn from me. But we don’t have that luxury now. I’m sorry if I have to cut things short. But tonight made me realize that I have to do more than just protect you.”

  The girl nodded again. “You have to let me go.” She guessed correctly.

  “Yes.” Her mother stated firmly—this time without as much emotional attachment. But it was for the best. Especially if they had any real hope of surviving.

  Tillie nodded some more. “Just promise me that you won’t do anything stupid.” She said.

  “Don’t worry,” her mother promised. “I won’t. Now…let’s go. Out the door. Down the hall. First emergency stairwell on the left. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Okay. I’m going. I’m going.” The other girl commented off hand—throwing her full gunny sack over her shoulder by the strap and then carrying her other pack on her back.

  Grunting in surprise, she ventured: “Just want did you put in these things? Rocks? Everything is so damned heavy!”

  Her mother laughed.

  “Just insurance, honey. In case you can’t make it back here.” She informed her then. “Off you go.”

  Tillie walked towards the door one last time and quietly opened the door. Everything was cast in a sickly yellow and white color from the emergency lights—giving it a really spooky look.

  “Only on a Monday—right?’ She said to no one in particular.

  “Yes.” Her mother said in passing. “Just one more thing if you would?”

  Tillie hung back a second with false hope in her heart.

  “Sure. What?”

  “If you get down there before I do, ask Sarah to stay behind. She’ll know what you mean.”

  The teen nodded. “Okay.” She answered smartly, opening the door a bit more and stepping through. Then she closed it behind her with a soft click.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The Way to Travel

  The moment she opened then lower lobby door leading up the emergency stairwell, Tillie saw a prime opportunity right in front of her as she spied Charlie with his back turned.

  Ever so quietly, she closed the door behind her and quickly snuck up to him before she reached out with both hands and covered his eyes—though she had to stand on her tip toes in order to do this little trick.

  “Guess who?” She ventured on the sly—causing him to jump two feet in the other direction.

  The poor boy didn’t know who it was that did it—looking about wildly for any sign of trouble—or an enemy that had inadvertently got the drop on him and his focus fell on Tillie who stood there laughing her butt off in the process.

  “You scare easy!” she chortled with glee—pointing a finger at him while doing it.

  “Why you—!” Charlie growled—making a lunge for her in that second. But the girl was a bit more quicker than him on the fly until he had her cornered next to a destroyed office cubicle—with Tillie Gunderson literally begging him to stop.

  But he tickled her anyways which set her off even more—the first real sounds of happiness and joy in quite awhile. Of course, everyone else around them wasn’t that thrilled with the commotion, but nobody stepped in to stop the games either until they both ran out of energy chasing each other around the debris filled lobby.

  “Okay, you two. Settle down.” Tayna warned the exuberant pair. “This place may be almost deserted but you can bet that any patrol out there will be eager to get their quota in for the day if they hear any more ruckus tonight.”

  Tillie nodded, still out of breath from her little improvised game. Charlie shared a similar look as he was bent over and breathing heavily. But one look at him and even she could tell he had fun playing.

  “You know…your hands are ice cold,” he gasped.

  Tillie looked at her hands for a second and nodded. “It must be the metal conduction filaments on my palms and fingers. They don’t exactly retain heat in any kind of weather or temperature gradient.”

  “Ever thought of wearing gloves?” He charged good-naturedly.

  Tillie winked at him. “Only during the Winters months. But only when I have to.”

  Sarah Winters came over then and asked her a direct question.

  “Where’s your mother?”

  “She’ll be down in a bit. But she wanted me to pass along a message. She wants you to wait for her,” the girl relayed then. “Whatever that means.”

  The woman nodded, before going over and giving her an affectionate hug.

  “You’ve been a real asset, Tillamook. I will pray for your continued success.” She whispered fondly.

  Tillie squirmed a bit from the experience.

  “Yeah, well, don’t be a stranger—okay?” She returned evenly—not wanting to give into the feelings of loss, misery, and nervousness at this very moment and turn into a blubbering mess of teenage girl flesh.

  Sarah pulled back for a moment to look at her. “Who knows? You may become what you’ve always wanted to be.”

  “Not another High Witch,” the girl groused unhappily.

  Sarah grinned despite herself. “Yeah. I know. Field Mage. That’s been your dream all along.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you know…the High Witch position is a lot easier for you to obtain after about…oh, ten more years of training and service at a Witch’s Guild.”

  Tillie nodded. “I know. My mom already told me this.”

  “So she did. But think about it from time to time. You may find that you like it better than being an uptight and stuffy Field Mage.”

  “Are you saying the job is boring? Or that I’ll become a snobbish bore myself?” The girl challenged peevishly.

  Sarah laughed. “Not necessarily so. But being a Field Mage means a lifetime of isolation and dedicated service. Not even allowed for close contact with other people.” She explained—before bending down and whispering in her ear:

  “That means you won’t be able to have a boyfriend in your life. Not even a husband. And just imagine how Charlie would feel if you had to leave him?”

  Tillie’s eyes widened a bit at those unsung implications. That was something she hadn’t heard about. She always b
elieved that she would still be able to form some personal attachments even as a Field Mage.

  Glancing over at Sarah Winters, she asked in a low voice: “Can that be changed?”

  The woman shook her head. “No. A Field Mage is the ultimate expression of a magical familiar. A powerful—almost god-like—deity who cannot be swayed by the temptations of the flesh. Or by the simpler things in life.”

  “Like a priest?” The girl echoed—slightly confused.

  Sarah hesitated on that answer. “Well, not quite. But it’s close.” She compromised pointedly.

  “When you become a Field Mage, Tillamook, you cease to be human. You cease to think of yourself as anything but human. That‘s why nobody knows of any instance where someone became a Field Mage in the past or the present. There‘s been no written record.”

  “But the stories say otherwise!” the girl bleated in hope. “I read about them in my mother’s journals. The legends—”

  “—were often written by people who thrived on nothing but hope or misery to pass the time. A convenient outlet for their ongoing suffering—especially when times were very dark indeed and rage and chaos ruled the lands.”

  Tillie grew quiet then.

  “So what am I supposed to believe? Who am I supposed to believe?”

  Sarah rubbed the girl’s head affectionately.

  “Listen to your heart, sweetie. That’s what it’s there for.” She coached. “If above all else that you want to become a Field Mage—then that is your choice. Nobody will stop you. But also consider how such a decision may impact or affect others in your orbit.”

  The girl nodded. “Well, I suppose this is where we part ways.” She decided—casting a longing glance at the emergency fire door in the rear. It still remained shut.

  “Don’t worry, Tillamook. I will be sure to tell your mother all the tall tales of your heroism so she doesn’t feel left out.”

  “That’s not the point, Sarah. But…thanks.” She said, giving her one last hug before she rejoined the others.

  “Sorry. Family stuff.” She remarked to both Teena and Tayna.

  “You sure?” The first woman pressed gently.

  Tillie nodded while taking a much needed deep breath to calm her nerves.