Killswitch Chronicles- The Complete Anthology

by G. R. Carter

  Jaws dropped as people slowly began to comprehend what Alex was proposing. Everyone knew there would be big ideas today, and most assumed it would be an alliance or even a republic of some kind. But no one expected anything close to this. Alex was suggesting an invasion – to go on the offensive and strike at the heart of New America. Several were smiling and nodding their heads, others looked somewhere between shocked and outraged, even scared. But no one stopped him as he concluded, confirming his plan to anyone still wondering what he meant.

  “I propose we become a storm of our own. So that when our clouds gather, the enemy fears what might strike them. And strike we shall, giving hope to those now burdened under oppression’s yoke. We shall give those under the boots of tyrants the chance to breathe free air. And then they will join us on our mission, knowing that we represent their children’s last, best hope at a better life.”

  “Good people of the Creator, I propose today that we form an eternal republic. One that exists not only as a fortress against evil, but that exists as a storm that will sweep evil from this earth altogether. A republic that gives honor to all those who perished to keep us free. A republic using our given gifts to do the best we can for all. A republic forged in the fires of Crusade!”

  *****

  Following Alex’s speech, ten minutes of handshakes and back slaps gave way to an empty conference room. From the movies Alex remembered as a kid, everyone would have cheered, jumped up, hoisted Alex on their shoulders and marched off to victory. But being real life, and real people not being movie characters…

  “Have you lost your testosterone-addled, block-headed mind? Do you get what kind of a fire you just lit? Some of these people have spies for the Grays operating in their communities! Those crazy snakes you just poked already know about your plans, and are making plans to come after you first!” Sheriff Clark Olsen demanded.

  “That’s exactly what they’re going to do. At least, that’s what I hoped would happen,” Alex replied with preternatural calm.

  Olsen’s face twisted like a fist poised to strike. “Let me get this straight…you hope that New America attacks your people? Burns their homes and crops to the ground, kill their families? This is your grand plan? Did I somehow misjudge your character, young man?”

  “Clark, I respect you like you were my father, and there’s no one whose approval I cherish more. But you know as well as I do that the Grays are coming after us no matter what I said in this room. The alliance is a common defense pact and it would have helped. But where would we have put our troops? We don’t have that big of a full-time fighting force. Where would we have put the men we have? Which community? Would Shelby County really see the big picture of placing all of our SDC troops sixty miles away to defend another town?” Alex asked rhetorically.

  He continued with confidence: “No? Spread how then? In this world, the attacker has the initiative. There are just too many square miles to cover with too few people!”

  Alex lowered his voice, not wanting to chastise the man he so admired. “We can put Raptors in the air to patrol, but for how long? Each hour they’re up in the air causes extra hours of maintenance the Wizards have to perform. Right now, we have the initiative because we have the only functioning air power, and the only organized armored attack force. If we wait, the Grays will have that, too. Where they found that tank that killed Dad…” For a moment he felt tears well up. He was unsure if it was sorrow or rage that boiled, but he forced it back down. “They’ll find more eventually. Conquest is all they focus on. They are a warrior society and we’re farmers. But we have a chance to rally this alliance to go on the offensive. Commander Fredericks is putting together a rapid reaction force that looks like an invasion force. It’s really not; it’s there to flank the Grays when they come at us again.

  “As soon as they attack our partner communities, the others will rally and help stiffen the defense. Fredericks will cut their lines of communication and then head straight for their capital. The Grays will have to disengage and try to catch us before we get to the heart of New America. We’ll grind them under the Raptors and the Mark 3s,” Alex growled.

  Olsen didn’t know the man in front of him. The boy he helped bring to manhood…Who is he? Olsen wondered. AJ…no it’s Alexander now…he’s getting that look of his father’s – but somehow, he’s different, he thought. The younger man gave him a look that bored into his mentor’s soul. Fredericks told us about this generation. Not the same kids they were before. Sudden tragedy set something off in their teenage brains.

  Alex commanded the room; Samuel and Eric behind him in their camouflage dusters displaying the same resolve with the hint of a hawk’s grin. “The Americans are going to overplay their hand, Sheriff Olsen. I know they are. Don’t ask me how, but I just know.”

  Epilogue

  “I was sorry to hear about your father,” Jack Diamante said softly. “All accounts, he was a good man. A great leader.”

  Alex held the old man’s handshake for a moment, studying the face of ARK’s consigliere, searching for any hidden agenda visible in those deep brown eyes, still sparkling with life.

  Phillip and Anna Hamilton’s eldest son felt alone in the cool afternoon air. He should be in college now, chasing dreams, blowing off classes, watching sports… A fleeting dream, nothing more. He was Alexander Jefferson Hamilton, now the Founder of the newly christened Red Hawk Republic. He didn’t choose this world, reset to the technology of the early 1900’s. His choice was more recent. A decision to accept his father’s Chair and assume leadership of a people his parents shepherded to survival after the world awoke to a new dark age.

  There were plenty of eyes on both of them right now. A hundred Okaw Valley militia surrounded a dozen Snapping Turtles, standing relaxed but ready under newly sewn Red Hawk banners whipping in the steady breeze. Their threadbare dusters were bundled tight against the chill. Just fifty yards away they stood, yet the distance seemed vast to their young leader.

  ARK Peacekeepers were there, too, but less visible. Snipers likely lay hidden, ready to kill him at a moment’s notice. Panic gnawed at his will, urging him to turn and run back to his own people. In this darkened world, misunderstandings were often settled with violence, sometimes before the reason for the disagreement was even understood. But he stood firm.

  “He’ll be deeply missed,” Alex finally said. “Losing my father is difficult. Losing our Founder… He was the glue that held us all together.”

  Jack gave a warm smile, then put his arm around Alex as they turned to walk towards a large tent erected in the middle of a meadow just west of Shelbyville. Alex tried hard not to stare at the two giant airships hovering just past the tent, tethered to the ground below. “You’ll be the glue, son,” Jack said. “I know natural leaders when I see them.” Alex winced as Jack slapped his back. “Well, I should know, I’ve been around a long time!”

  He noticed Alex’s attention towards the airships. “I hear you’ve got some amazing machines of your own.”

  Alex smiled. “American ingenuity I guess. We were blessed to be stranded with a lot of very intelligent people in our little county.”

  Smile lines creased across Diamante’s face. “I guess we should both be thankful. Lots of people weren’t so lucky to have to visionary leaders like ARK and the Okaw had.”

  Alex shook his head. “Dad didn’t believe in luck. He believed everything was the hand of man or the hand of God.”

  Jack stopped and put both hands on the younger man’s shoulders. He sighed deeply and gave Alex his best grandfather look. “Don’t go looking for a higher power, Alex. You’ll only be disappointed.” He could smell cigar and bourbon on Diamante’s breath.

  Alex wanted to break away. He didn’t want to be rude to ARK’s emissary, but he wasn’t comfortable being this close to anyone except Rebekah Ruff. Instead, he forced himself to stand, unwilling to show an ounce of discomfort that could be perceived as weakness. “Mr. Diamante, I’m sure we don’t agree on a lot o
f matters. I can assure you, I’ll always believe a higher power had a hand in our survival.”

  “And the millions who didn’t make it? How did belief work out for them?”

  “Maybe they weren’t listening when the answers were available,” Alex said sharply. Then he smiled. “Or maybe the big guy upstairs just liked us better.”

  Diamante’s face cracked into a grin, then a smile, then a hearty laugh. “Oh, young Founder Hamilton, I think we’re going to get along famously!” He dropped his hands and waved Alex towards the tent, this time side by side, as equals.

  A large black banner with a white lambda, like an inverted V, snapped back and forth, catching a gust of wind, then falling back to its standard with the weight of the thick cloth. The same symbol was on the tent, and the airships, and on the large black-clad man who opened the tent flap for them. Someone aced marketing class Alex laughed to himself. But he filed the lesson away in the back of his mind. Humans rallied to symbols. There was no such thing as over the top when it came to convincing people to sacrifice for a cause.

  The cool gray light of day changed to a warm glow of lamplight as Alex ducked his head into the tent. He took a moment to let his eyes adjust, then came face to face with a man who could only be Tony Diamante himself.

  The leader of ARK cut a striking figure. Jet black hair without a streak of gray waved over a widow’s peak and flowed to just past his collar in the back. In a time of shaggy dull-scissor haircuts, if one received any haircut at all, Diamante looked for all the world like he’d just left a salon. A black pinstriped suit fit perfectly, buttoned in the front over a crisp white dress shirt. His only break from formality was the absence of a necktie. Most folks these days looked gaunt compared to their former selves. Calories were still in short enough supply not to be taken for granted. ARK’s Premier looked full faced and tan; like a corporate executive able to access great food and a personal trainer. Counting Jack, Tony was only the second man he’d seen without a beard in months.

  Alex wondered if his own look was a bit more dismal. His broad brimmed leather hat still covered his uncut hair - no one remembered etiquette - and his cornfield camouflage duster was spattered with almost as much mud as his boots and the olive colored trousers tucked into them. Underneath he wore his best button-down shirt, but it was a heavy tan cotton, and anything but crisp.

  The two men assessed each other for just a split second before each extended a hand. Diamante smiled in a similar fashion to his uncle and said, “I promise not to call you Founder Hamilton if you don’t call me Premier Diamante.”

  Alex stifled a laugh and replied, “That, Tony, is a deal I’m willing to shake on.”

  “Good, good. Please come in and have a seat. Can I get you anything? Bourbon? Scotch?” Diamante asked as he walked towards a fine wooden table set in the middle of the tent. Three tall bottles sat in the middle, surrounded by short glasses. Alex was wondering how they’d managed to get such a piece here as he replied. “More of a beer man, myself. Thanks for the offer, though.”

  “Got you covered there,” Diamante said. He pulled a dark brown bottle out from a cooler under the table, then a glass stein. He flipped the top on the bottle and poured out a caramel colored liquid with foam rising just to the top of the rim.

  “There used to be breweries in St. Louis. We inherited the equipment and some inventory,” Diamante said as he handed it to Alex. “I’m not sure what they call it. You know, beer people were getting as snobbish as wine connoisseurs when the Reset hit. But I’ve always been a scotch man, myself. And you were a beer guy, huh?”

  “More like Dr. Pepper,” Alex said with a grin. “Though my dad let me have the occasional brew at home.”

  Alex almost forgot Jack Diamante was in the tent with them until he heard the elder statesmen spit out his drink and double up laughing.

  Tony looked at his uncle, then back at Alex with an embarrassed smirk. “Sorry, Alex. I forgot you were in college when the Reset hit.”

  “Actually, I was just finishing high school.”

  Jack Diamante sat down, trying to catch his breath, clutching his side. “I wish…I wish I had a camera, nephew. The unflappable Premier… Stunned and speechless!”

  “In my defense,” Tony said to his uncle, “he seems much older.”

  “I think, perhaps, you should consider your compliments a bit more thoroughly,” Jack said.

  Tony waved his hand. “Forget it,” he said. “Small talk was never my strongpoint. Alex, can you forgive me? Can we start over again?”

  “Nothing to forgive, Tony. Not much bothers me these days.”

  Alex joined Jack at the table, then Tony sat across from him. Alex took a long drink and licked the foam from whiskers growing down over his lips. He raised the stein to both men. “My compliments. To ARK and to the brewmaster.”

  Both ARK men raised short tumblers to Alex, then drank the contents down simultaneously. As the glasses hit the table, a Peacekeeper stepped up to refill them both.

  “Alex, we wanted to present you with a gift for your people,” Jack said. He waved to servant who pulled a black cloth down from a pedestal. On the pedestal base sat a bell with a clearly visible crack.

  Alex walked over to examine the huge piece, marveling at the age and the inscription. “Where’d you find this? It looks like a replica of the Liberty Bell.”

  Jack chuckled. “This actually is the Liberty Bell. The original one. They call it the Liberty Bell of the West, but it’s actually older than the one in Philadelphia… well I suppose I should say was in Philadelphia. I imagine the whole place is gone now.” His smile faded as that thought took root.

  “Is that inscription in French? Do you know what it says?”

  “Very good, Founder Hamilton. It is in French. It translates ‘For the Church of the Illinois, by gift of the King across the water’. How’s that for irony? It was in Kaskaskia when we found it. According to the records, sent over from France in the 1740s. Then it was rung by the townspeople when George Rogers Clark defeated the British there in the Revolution. 1778! Lot of history there, eh?”

  “Lots more history to come,” Tony said. “They’ll be writing history books about all of us someday.”

  “Only if we survive,” Alex replied. His heart leapt at such a gift, then sank as he considered how much his father would have loved the object. The wave of grief sharpened his mind. “I appreciate the gift, truly. I’d be anxious to know how in the world you got it here. Well, truth be told I’d be anxious to know how you got all this here,” he said as he waved his hand around at the tent.

  “But I think you’ll find I’m not much on small talk, either,” Alex said. “So, I’ll just be real frank and ask exactly what you’ve come all this way to talk about.”

  Jack sipped his refreshed glass then returned to his seat. If he was bothered by Alex’s abrupt tone and lack of gratitude for such a gift, he didn’t let on. “We thought a face to face meeting would be best. Set some boundaries, eh? One of your fighter planes scared our skyship crews near to death recently. I’d hate to see any misunderstandings where someone got hurt.”

  “Technically, our Raptors are ground attack planes. They’re really not equipped for aerial combat,” Alex replied. Yet remained unsaid.

  “Uhm, hmm. Well, I’m sure our airmen will sleep much better knowing that,” Jack replied.

  Silence hung over the table like an anvil.

  “Come on guys. Stop playing games. We’ve had only minimal contact with ARK since the Reset. We’ve sent messages, all unanswered, even though one of our lead engineers is a brother to one of your key people. You’ve never so much as sent a low-level emissary before. Now I get a visit from the two most powerful people in ARK?” Alex watched carefully as he measured their reaction. He lowered his voice and continued. “Now, I’d appreciate the truth.”

  Tony and Jack stole a quick glance that suggested someone won a bet. “We need food,” Tony said simply, then took a deep drink while he waited for Alex
to reply.

  His answer was not immediately forthcoming. ARK’s motivation for requesting a summit wasn’t difficult to guess. Encroaching starvation seemed to dull the allure of independence for most survivors. Many who made it through the first year of the Reset found the second and third even more difficult. Easily looted supplies stashed away in abandoned warehouses was gone. First harvests were disappointing.

  Producers – or crafty hoarders – were the power brokers of the new universe. New America used their seemingly limitless supply of field rations to coerce little towns to join their cause of Reconstruction. The Okaw Valley used food and fuel, through production and salvage, as a bond to stitch together what became the Red Hawk Republic.

  ARK made the same play with their resources. Apparently, they were better at making beer than bread.

  “Dad told me you all had millions of those nasty tasting ration bars stored up,” Alex replied. “He said you captured all the government warehouses right after the Reset.” Left unsaid was what ARK’s actions meant for millions of hungry and scared civilians left to fend for themselves by Tony Diamante’s actions.

  Jack replied first. “A million sounds like a lot, until you have to try to feed thousands of people three times a day, eh? Yes? Add in spoilage, theft, terrible accounting… There weren’t so many rations there as the records stated. Absorbing the towns on the Illinois side of the river compounded the problem. A mistake, bad counsel on my part.” Jack sat back in his chair and threw up his hands. “We just tried to help too many people. So, we’re going to run out sooner than we hoped.”