Killswitch Chronicles- The Complete Anthology

by G. R. Carter

  He gasped as they took in the sight. Hundreds of ditchers were assembled just past the western gates. Malone took a pair of binoculars from one of the other men on the platform and looked towards the other bridge. “Same over there,” he mumbled. “Hundreds of them.”

  Malone began to fumble with a metal box secured to the corner of the platform. In the dark Oliver couldn’t see what he was doing, but Levi recognized it soon enough from his construction background. “Are the bridges rigged with explosives?” he asked.

  “Of course. I got to get ready to blow these things. Lori will be doing the same thing over on the other bridge, I’m sure.

  Oliver thought strategically, trying to balance out the immediate need for security with the future needs of his new home. “But we can’t blow them without being a hundred percent sure there’s no other choice. We’ll never be able to rebuild these, and the wreckage would block a big chunk of the channel. It would be years before we could get it cleared.”

  Oliver grabbed Levi’s arm. “We’ve got to convince Lori not to drop these bridges. I’m telling you, this Boar King wants us looking over there. There’s something else going on.”

  “Okay, Captain. I trust your gut, just tell me why. She’ll need a pretty convincing argument.”

  “First off, why hasn’t he attacked yet? With that kind of manpower, why not just overwhelm the gates and march right through? He could have been through the western gates before anyone could stop him. Then all he’d have to do is bust through the gates closest to town.”

  Malone cut in. “He knows we’d blow the bridges, the detonator’s right here and that’s the duty of the man on watch. Last act is to blow the bridge.”

  “If he’s smart enough to consider that…then you’re underestimating him now. He’s over there making a big racket because he wants everyone to notice him.”

  “I just don’t understand…how do you know all this? You’ve never even been here before, and all of the sudden you can read a ditcher king’s mind?”

  Oliver ignored the insult. “He wants these bridges to stand,” he mumbled to himself. “He needs these bridges.” Oliver asked.

  “Come on, Captain,” Malone replied testily. “What’s a ditcher need a bridge for?”

  “That much I don’t know, but I’m telling you not to drop these bridges right now. If it makes you feel better, get all your people into the fortress towers. I’ll stay here, be the last man. If the Boar King comes across, I’ll blow it all before it’s too late.” Something else struck his mind. “Where’s the nearest Red Hawk base?”

  “Downriver, about twenty some miles,” Malone told him.

  “Is there a bridge there?”

  “Sure. The old Interstate 72 bridge. Big one.”

  Oliver nodded his head, his hunch gaining strength in his mind. “Then we need to get them a message. They’re going to get a visit, too. Tell them not to over react. Someone wants to get our attention in a big way.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Great River Bridge

  Fortress Burlington

  Mississippi River

  Bethany nervously switched her backpack from one shoulder to the other, glancing at the ground in front of her. No, Demetrius said keep your eyes up, act like nothing’s wrong.

  She raised her head, forcing herself to make eye contact with the guards as she approached.

  “Good evening, Miss Bethany,” the closest one called out. “Can I take your bag for you? It looks heavy.”

  “That's sweet, Jimmy. But I can handle it. Kind of you to ask, but it's my burden to bear,” she replied.

  “Yah, okay. That's fine. I'll have to search it, though, just the rules, yah know,” Jimmy said, his accent faded slightly as he switched to a more official tone.

  “Come on, Jimmy. Please don't do that. I got girl stuff in there, you and me would both be embarrassed.”

  “Sorry there, Bethany, I’d get in Dutch with the boss were I ta let yah pass without checkin,'” Jimmy said, adjusting his pot helmet, the same style all River Watch sentries wore on guard duty. He slung his rifle over his shoulder, nervous and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

  “Jimmy, please. You look in there and we'll both be embarrassed when you take me to the festival this weekend,” she said sweetly.

  “The festival? You'd go with me?”

  “I've been waiting for you to ask…so, are you gonna ask or what?”

  “Will you?”

  “Will I what?” she replied playfully.

  “Will you go to the festival with me this weekend?”

  “Only if you let me get to work! If I'm late, they'll dock my pay and I won't be able to afford to go with you,” she said.

  “Well, don't yah worry about that, Miss Bethany. I've been saving up Quarters for weeks. Anything yah want to do, I'll pay for it all,” he said proudly.

  “You are the sweetest thing, Jimmy McKee,” she said, going up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. Sorry to make a fool of you Jimmy, I really did like you. She walked quickly to the gate, looking back and smiling. “Come by the shelter at lunchtime Saturday. I don't want to miss a minute!”

  Bethany kept walking, not giving Jimmy a chance to call her back. She tried to keep from hyperventilating, taking the deepest breaths she could muster, forcing down nervous bile from the back of her throat. She hadn't shaken like this since being rescued from the ditchers as a child. That terrifying memory had sharpened her edge, hardened her resolve. She could still see her parents’ lifeless bodies, smell her farm burning…the horror haunted her dreams every night. Focus, you need to concentrate, or else Sis will end up in worse shape than Momma and Daddy.

  She was on the bridge now, walking along the edge of what once served as a busy highway crossing the Mississippi River. The Watch House was just ahead, rising tall out of the right-hand lane, leaving only the left for official traffic to pass. A bank of spotlights on wheels bathed the bridge approach in light, casting long shadows up and down the damp asphalt interrupted occasionally by a solar flare flash in the sky above. A large generator sat next to the lights, its humming the only noise she heard besides her own breathing. She shifted her backpack again to keep the heavy cleaning fluids inside from making the strap cut into her shoulder.

  It was a long walk from the shelter to get to her job, but she'd been happy to get the work. Even meager wages put her ahead of most refugees who spent their days waiting; waiting to get a job or a boat ride south to the fabled lands of ARK, Grand Shawnee, or even the Red Hawk Republic. There were rumors of available farmland there, and plenty to eat. Safety, too, and civilized towns. Rumors she'd get to explore if she could just get Sis free and meet Demetrius’s southbound boat.

  Bethany allowed herself a quick dream, picturing Sis at a real wooden kitchen table in their very own home. They’d have electric lights and a fireplace, a real mattress, and they wouldn’t have to hide behind locked doors all the time. Maybe a gentleman would come to call, one she could pick for herself instead of just hoping for any old loser willing to marry a ditcher refugee.

  Concentrate, she told herself again. I have to get this done, get out and then get to the boat.

  Her friend at the shelter promised her—promised she'd get Sis back and get the southbound boat and enough food for the journey. She was confident Demetrius would hold up his end of the deal. He had such a warm smile and easy laugh that showed his perfect teeth glowing through his dark beard. He looked out for them at the shelter, made sure none of the others messed with them. When the time finally came for them to get out, he had been so sweet to her, apologizing over and over that they needed to hold Sis until Bethany did what they asked. She would have done it anyway; after all, they were helping them get away from here.

  Bethany reached the three-story structure, a concrete block rectangle with windows wrapping around the corners and facing out over the northern approaches of the river. She knocked on the security window, getting the attention of a guard just inside the reinforced
door.

  The face in the window looked her up and down in the harsh glare of the security light, just like he always did. He twisted a wheel releasing the bolts holding the steel entry closed.

  “Lookin' good again tonight, Beth,” the troll-shaped man said.

  “Thanks as always. Such a gentleman you are. And it's Bethany, not Beth.”

  “Right, Bethany. I'll remember next time,” he smiled with a look that reminded her of her ditcher captors. No you won't, pig, she smiled inwardly. After tonight, none of you'll ever see me again.

  She hoped when ARK arrived it would be different around here. She and Sis weren't under constant physical threat anymore, but now they were trapped in a refugee shelter, vulnerable to anyone who wanted to take anything from them. Not that either had much to steal, but their dignity was something. They were slaves in all but name, fed enough to keep them from revolting, given enough hope to keep them from running off.

  She walked past the empty chairs occupied by guards during the day shift. Nighttime was a skeleton crew up here; anyone on duty was likely patrolling the river banks. There wasn’t much traffic on the river anyway, and none at nighttime. She reached her tiny janitor’s closet, getting out the items she needed to complete her work. She'd have to clean the bathrooms first, one on each floor. The showers on the top floor were next, fed by water collected in rooftop tanks and warmed by the sun. She always dreaded that job. The all-male garrison living in the barracks up there always seemed to choose that time to for their nightly washing, stark naked and laughing at her discomfort.

  One last night and I won't have to do this anymore. We'll be on the river and headed for a better life.

  She pulled out two buckets from the closet, then took the special cleaning fluids out of her backpack. This was the tricky part. Demetrius had shown her just how to mix everything together; over and over they had practiced with different-colored water. She had to keep the chemicals separate until the time was right. After the mixture created a gas that made everyone else in the building pass out, she could open the river gates long enough for Demetrius to get the boat through…

  Deep in thought, she was startled as the door guard suddenly appeared behind her. “What're you working on, Beth?”

  “Crap, Barry, you startled me half to death! Don't do that!”

  “Why are your hands shaking like that?” he asked and looked over her shoulder. “What's in them metal bottles? I never seen those before.” He stepped back and looked at her suspiciously. “Say, you ain't the one been bringing Syn in here, are you? My buddy got run out of here last week, accused of dealing to some of the guards.” His naturally ugly face twisted even more as he gave her a look to kill. “That was you, wasn't it! Dylan took the blame for it, and it was you all along! Stupid slut!” He stepped in again, moving to grab Bethany’s arm.

  “Don't talk crazy, Barry. It's just cleaning supplies, here, have a look,” Bethany stammered.

  She opened one of the canisters carefully and tilted it toward Barry. “See, it ain't Syn, it’s just cleaning liquids. Please, Barry, don't cause me any trouble tonight.”

  Barry looked at the liquid, then at Bethany, then back at the liquid with a wrinkled nose. “Stinks too bad to be liquor.” His face changed to a sly smile and a raised eyebrow. “But I got a bottle over there above the door. How's about you and I have a little nip of that together?”

  “Won't you get in trouble?”

  “Naw, the River Watch controller went to take a dump. Nothing on the river this time of night anyway. He's usually gone fifteen or twenty minutes at least…plenty long enough for you and me to have a little party.”

  Barry took another step forward, cornering Bethany up against the closet’s plastic washbasin as she backpedaled. “Barry, don't, please.”

  “You know what, you little refugee witch, I'm about tired of you teasing me. Leading me on is just rude, prancing around here, bending over in front of me all the time,” Barry spit out.

  “I'm just doing my job, Barry, I ain't trying to lead nobody on, I promise,” Bethany replied, nearly crying.

  “Well, whatever you tryin’ to do, you got my attention now. We don't need the booze, let's just get this party started right now,” he said as he forced himself all the way into the closet, slamming the door behind him.

  Bethany struggled against the guard’s much larger frame, trying to squirm her way out of his thick arms. Where is it? she thought while he kissed her face, grabbing her wherever he could. Reach for it, I have to get it. She stopped struggling for a moment, causing Barry to loosen his grip just a bit.

  “I knew you'd see it my way,” he growled. “Just relax and have a good time.”

  “Okay, Barry. I just wanted to see if you were man enough to take what you want,” she whispered and rubbed her hand down his side.

  She nearly gagged at his rough, slobbering kisses, still moving her hand down his leg. She could feel him tense up in anticipation, losing all focus. How many times have you forced yourself on refugee girls, troll-man? No more after tonight…

  She lunged down to her backpack, grabbing a hairbrush handle sticking out from the side. In one motion she pulled it out, revealing a six-inch blade, and, turning and twisting the sharp end. She plunged it into Barry’s kidney, far enough to give a sickening thunk as she struck something hard. He tried to scream, a look of terrified shock blanking out any other emotion. Bethany fought back the urge to retch, putting more pressure on the hilt to try and drive the knife deeper into his body.

  Rage, spite, fear, loss, helplessness…every pent-up emotion boiling in her soul for years pushed her hand harder and harder. Barry’s arms remained wrapped around her as he tried to collapse, the tight quarters of the closet the only thing keeping him still upright on buckled knees. She stood for a moment, watching the light extinguish from his sunken eyes, gagging at the smell of blood and waste. This wasn't the first time she had witnessed death, but the pressure of the night made it all too much. She sobbed, trying to pull herself together. Fifteen to twenty minutes until River Watch is back. How long has it been?

  Bethany pulled an arm free to reach the door handle. No time now to go through the cleaning routine and escape quietly. Demetrius warned her there might be complications, that no plan ever worked perfectly. Have to speed up. She twisted the metal door handle, trying to get a grip with a slippery hand. Bloody hand, she realized in horror. She finally gained grip on the knob, allowing the door to open as Barry fell with a thud. She went down on hands and knees, pushing his jelly-like body out of the way. Deadweight worked against her slight frame as she strained to get to the canisters trapped underneath him. Please don't be open… She didn't want the chemicals to spill; if they mixed and she didn't have her mask on she'd fall asleep before she could finish the most important part.

  For once her luck held. She had managed to get the canister closed before Barry shoved her into the closet. Panting and sobbing still, she made her way over to the winch station situated in front of the north-facing windows. The giant metal casing surrounded a thick iron wheel and gears, attached to shafts reaching out across a fifty-yard stretch of the bridge. Every four feet, an immense chain descended from the shaft to the water's surface, highlighted by searchlight beams piercing through hundreds of yards of night along the river channel. Manmade obstacles blocked passage through the outside piers of the bridge, forcing anyone wanting to pass to come right through the main channel. With the chain wall lowered, it was impossible to pass without damage to any ship that tried, but with the chains raised up…

  No time for quiet now, she’d have to begin raising the wall before mixing the sleeping gas. Bethany put on her mask and walked over to the chain wall control panel. She had spent the last several weeks secretly observing the River Watch operators, learning how to operate the hydraulic levers, waiting for the night Demetrius told her all was ready for their trip. Now she followed the steps just as the River Watch did, flipping the right switches and levers. She felt t
he floor shudder and watched the wheel began to turn in front of her. It inched forward slowly, straining to lift the weight of the chains and iron beams attached between them. Shouting from upstairs and footsteps on the stairway quickened her pace.

  She put a bucket on either side of the wheel, working furiously to make sure the chemical reaction had time to work before they got to her. Contents of the canister marked with an “A” sloshed into both buckets, and then the empty tube dropped onto the floor. Now the other canister was in her trembling hands, nearly dropping before she could pull out a ball-shaped rubber insert. The contents were squishy, filled with some sort of gel supposed to react with the first. She dropped one of the gel containers into the first bucket, then did the same with the second. Dropping the other canister, she turned to run for the door.

  “Freeze! Don't move another inch!”

  She hesitated, then began to run; she'd have to take her chances they wouldn't shoot a girl in the back. The dark room flashed as bright as day and she felt an excruciating burn in her shoulder. Something like an iron fist knocked her toward the floor. She felt helpless watching the deck rush towards her face, unable to put her arms down to break the fall. The pain made her want to cry, but nothing came out. Her face lay against the floor, conscious that it was hard and cold but not feeling much else. She blinked, eyes at just the right angle to see a soaking wet soldier standing with just a towel on, staring into her buckets, confused by the bubbling and hissing mixture. Another was working the switches on the control panel, trying to reverse the direction of the chain wall. Briefly, the soldier in the towel looked over at Bethany, then he was gone in a bright flash as both buckets melted and then exploded outward, ripping everything metal and flesh to shreds.

  Please, Demetrius, take care of Sis for me, Bethany thought as the searing wave hit her face. You promised.

  The floor of the Watch House caved downward from the blast, allowing the giant wheel to sag toward the river, hanging on for just a moment before the intense heat and pressure melted surviving support beams. The eastern shaft broke away from the structure, giving the western shaft opportunity to follow the wheel into the river as it succumbed to gravity, hitting the muddy water below with a huge splash. Weakened by the jarring explosion, the first floor of the building gave way next, pancaked by the second and third floor, each jolt weakening more of the bridge surface, until the entire contents and occupants of the Watch House took the hundred-foot ride down to their destruction below. A surreal quiet fell over the whole river, absent of man-made light now for the first night in years.