Killswitch Chronicles- The Complete Anthology

by G. R. Carter

  “What’s done is done, King,” Father Steve said in a reassuring tone of truth. “We’re all forgiven for yesterday. What matters is what we do tomorrow.”

  Most of the men surrounding the Boar King nodded their heads, some emphatically, some subtly. Levi caught one of the younger men rolling his eyes, just out of sight of everyone else. It was subtle, barely perceptible, but undeniable in its intent. Levi stared at the man, trying to determine his thoughts and the meanings of the tattoos running up his arms and over his face, spider webs of ink inserted under the skin one painful prick at a time.

  Without warning the man looked over at Levi, and the two locked in a gaze, each unwilling to look away. There was a loathing in those empty pits, Levi could read it. He’d seen it before, dark pools of hatred waiting to empty out like a river of sorrows. The stare down took just a moment, then Tattoo Man’s face creased ever so slightly in a sinister grin. He broke off and turned his attention back to his King. Levi Marshall was a hard man for his few years, having survived as a river rat among ditcher attacks. The look of the spider man left him in a speechless chill.

  “Quarter for your thoughts,” a voice said behind him. Levi shook out of his daze at the sound of his friend’s voice.

  Liam Oliver smiled at Levi, a real smile that held a true warmth of deliberate brotherhood.

  “Not worth nearly that, you oughta know by now.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his battered hands, well scarred from years working with sharp metal and raw wood. “What’ve you found out about these guys?” Levi asked, nodding towards the Boar King’s entourage.

  Oliver shrugged. “Not much.”

  “Well if Lori Hamilton’s beau don’t know anything, I’d say the rest of us know less than nothing.”

  Oliver gave him a glare, good-natured enough but still a nonverbal request to let it rest. He’d grown close – friendship and maybe a little more – to the Founder’s oldest sister in the short time since they met. He wasn’t particularly good at male/female relationships. His long-departed wife had been about the only one who ever made him feel truly comfortable anywhere but the deck of a ship.

  Levi gave a little wink to his friend. “Well, Captain, I guess we don’t know what our future with the Boar King is going to hold. Father Steve seems to trust him, says he’s a changed man. But I don’t know if the rest of his posse got the message.”

  Oliver nodded his head. “Hard for leopards to change their spots. Or tattoos, in this case.” He’d noticed the man Levi kept staring at. “Think we need to bring it to anyone’s attention?”

  “Can’t imagine Lori doesn’t already have the same concerns. Besides, she’s been fighting ditchers long as we have. We just don’t have the history here.”

  “She hasn’t said anything to me. I know she was relieved when they showed up to help against the jijis.”

  “But she’s starting to have her doubts?” Levi asked.

  “I’m telling you the truth, brother. She hasn’t said a word. Just call it an uneasy feeling I’m picking up.”

  Levi tried not to laugh but couldn’t help giving his friend a hard time. “Maybe that’s just you. Maybe old men make her nervous.”

  Oliver gave him a shot in the arm, hurting his knuckles on the big man’s iron-like muscle. “You’re just jealous.”

  “Not a chance. The fairer sex is much more dangerous than any ditchers! Rather hang iron off the bottom of a river bridge than try to figure out the mind of a woman.”

  The room began to clear of Buckles and Boarmen alike. Celebrations lasted only so long in a community trying to fit too much work into too few hours each day. Levi and Oliver stayed seated, watching the people stream out to finish evening chores or simply return home. Some of the men would be making their way back across the bridge to take their shift in the bunkers guarding the approaches. The lucky ones would be rejoining family inside the town walls.

  “Okay, let’s hear it,” Father Steve’s voice said behind them. The tone took the friends by surprise. Both were caught with the look of a cover-up.

  “What do you mean?” Oliver finally stammered.

  “You don’t think I caught that little staring contest our resident Paul Bunyan had with Kal?” Father Steve asked. “The guy with the tattoos,” he answered to their questioning looks.

  “Oh, you mean the spider man? He started it,” Levi answered. He smiled sheepishly when he heard the words of a child come out of his mouth.

  “Of course he did,” Father Steve replied without scolding. “He was measuring you. It’s what these guys do. They’d kill each other for being weak. He’s used to sizing men up.”

  “I guess I passed if he didn’t try,” Levi said.

  Father Steve laughed out loud. “Yah, ya bet!” Suddenly, his mood turned more serious. “I trust your judgment, men. If you’re telling me something don’t sit well with you, I’ll give it a think.”

  “Thanks, Father. I don’t want to cause no trouble. And I’m willing to admit to judgin’ ‘em for being out in the wild too long,” Levi said.

  “That’s called experience, son. I won’t discount it for want of a wish of mine. But let’s remember what the Creator does to change folks, even ditchers.”

  Levi and Oliver begrudgingly nodded. “What are we gonna do with all of ‘em?” Levi asked.

  “The Boarmen? Get them out onto farms. Soonest best.”

  “They seem like they’re comfortable right where they’re at. Don’t show much sign of movin’ anytime soon. Got three hots and a cot. Might be they’re okay with just drinking and layin’ about,” Levi challenged.

  Father Steve’s face stayed stony. “What’s your opinion, Captain?” he said, turning his attention away from Levi for a moment.

  “That we tripled our population almost overnight. In the heat of the moment I was glad to have the extra men to fight off the jijis…”

  “But now that the threat of the Caliphate horde seems to have simmered a bit, you’re starting to have second thoughts,” Father Steve finished for him.

  Oliver nodded. “Not saying it’s right, Father,” he admitted. But he didn’t back down. “As much as you know the Boar King, how well do you really know his men?”

  “Well it appears to have always been a loose confederation. A collection of tribes that still answer to their own leaders, follow their own customs, no matter how brutal,” he said. “None of the tribes individually can beat Darwin and his men…maybe all together they could.

  “Can’t say they’re so much loyal to King as much as they fear him. I’ve seen someone challenge him and go dead ‘fore they even got the words all out. Oh, there’s a fair amount of his people loyal to him, all right. The ones he kept alive right after the Reset are diehards. But the rest? Yah, I’d say they’re in it for themselves.”

  “And that makes them dangerous,” Oliver agreed.

  “Dangerous enough, yah.”

  “King knows that, too?” Levi asked.

  “Of course. He’s smart enough to know the score. The two of us just hoped bringing them to the Faith and givin’ their families a safe place to start over would tame ‘em a bit.”

  Oliver ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “Not exactly the reassurance we were looking for, Father.”

  Father Steve put his hand on Oliver’s shoulder. “Son, I’m guessing our ditcher friends know what you’re thinkin’. That gets them worryin’ like maybe we won’t keep our end of the deal. See how that spirals out of control? Our alliance was formed in the terror of Caliphate invasion. Take that away and people who’ve been enemies for so long start lookin’ at one another cross-eyed again.”

  He paused, thinking about something else on his mind. “Let’s go see Lori. I got something we need to talk about. All of us.”

  Chapter Six

  Capitol Building

  Shelbyville, Okaw Province

  “Good to see you again, brother.”

  Sam said nothing in reply as he held open the door of the Capitol Bu
ilding for Alex to enter. The glass doors were etched with Red Hawk symbols, matched by identical banners hung all around the grand entryway. Two large young men in the Republic’s green-and-tan cornfield camouflage put hands to their hearts and said loudly, “Against the Storm!” as Alex and Sam walked past. The Hamilton brothers replicated the gesture, a bit less enthusiastically.

  They had to repeat the salute a few more times as they made their way through the ornate two-story foyer. Young men and women wanted to make eye contact with the Hamiltons. Regardless of how hard the founding family tried to avoid it, politics followed power. Land Lords from Fortress Farms all over the Republic vied to send their young adult children to serve here in the capital. The town, and particularly this building, was designed to be a place to coordinate and cooperate in matters of defense and trade. Sometimes it worked that way, but too often these days it was a place for favors and lobbying. Fixing that was high on the Founder’s list once the danger of the Caliphate passed them by.

  Julia Ruff looked harried as the Hamilton brothers walked into Old Main province’s first-floor office. She’d been their father’s closest ally in the days right after the Reset, bringing the small college community through the initial days of darkness. Now she was an ally, trusted advisor and family all wrapped into one.

  “Julia, you don’t seem very grateful for my gift. Giving you Vincennes doubled, maybe tripled Old Main’s population,” Alex said with a smile.

  His mentor scowled at him over her thick glasses. “Next time keep your gifts to yourself. Or give them to Eric Olsen instead,” the former United States Senator said.

  “I tried, remember? He gave it back after I let all the refugees from Mt. Horab settle in Grand Shawnee. He said it stretched him too thin, but you had plenty of time to handle it.” He tapped his finger to the temple above his good eye. “I just can’t figure out why we’re always fighting invaders who want to take our territory, and my provincial governors refuse when I offer it to them for free.”

  She didn’t dignify the joke. Instead she tossed a file from her hand down on the desk and took off her glasses. Her age seemed to drop a couple of decades as she finally smiled. “How is my favorite son-in-law and my favorite son-I-never-had?”

  Alex looked at Sam. “I know which one I am, so I guess I should be offended by what you are.”

  Sam shrugged. “Truth hurts, I guess.”

  Alex started to return what he thought was a jest, then stopped when he feared it wasn’t. He returned his attention to Julia. “I’ll be better when Bek gets back. The kids miss her almost as much as I do. The Steinbrinks are like family; the kids have grown up with them. But they’re still not Mommy. I’m trying to get out to the farm to see them every couple of days. One of these days I might just stay out there for good.”

  “We’d come and find you,” Sam said. “Otherwise the rest of us get stuck running this place.”

  Julia nodded in agreement. “I’m okay being the Founder’s mother-in-law. I’ve got no interest in the Chair itself. One province is plenty. I’d prefer playing grandma.”

  Alex turned to business. “Okay, what’s the crisis of the day?”

  “We need the new territories to contribute more militia to help Eric’s Shawnee troopers. They’re holding their own against the eastern horde of the Caliphate. The jijis in Owensboro are making no move east, no sign of making a move our direction, either. Looks like they’re preparing to head overland to the Ten-Tom. Your guess about them moving south looks spot-on.”

  “Still don’t know why, though?”

  Julia shook her head. “We’ve interrogated lots of prisoners.” She paused for a moment, her discomfort obvious as she considered what the word “interrogate” meant in this war of extermination between the Republic and the Caliphate. Neither side held to anything like the Geneva Convention of old.

  Sam came to her aid. “But still no definitive answer.”

  “Right,” she said as she came around. “Bob Culper said they just jabbered on about heading to a promised land.”

  “And instead they ended up in Owensboro.”

  The trio chuckled together. Nothing against the once-bustling river town; it just wasn’t what anyone considered a land of milk and honey. Unless maybe you were fleeing a desolate land that grew increasingly cold each year. The Caliphate had originated in the refugee slums of Minneapolis and Detroit immediately after the Reset. When the jihadists decided to move south, the major rivers served as floating highways. They raped, looted, and pillaged everything in their path, all in the name of their Mahdi and the promises he made them.

  “With all the eastern refugees we settled in Vincennes, they should have plenty of able bodies willing to volunteer,” Sam said.

  Julia shook her head. “That’s just it, Estes Dunmore claims Vincennes needs them all for their own defenses. He doesn’t want to part with anyone who can carry a weapon of any kind.”

  “Well one thing is for certain, Eric’s guys are doing everything they can,” Alex said. “I know that much is true. Can we get Lafayette to send anyone? They shouldn’t be as concerned since the Caliphate went south of them.”

  “Good idea,” Julia said. “I’ll check.”

  Sam added, “We’ve got a squadron of Raptors there. Some assorted experimental birds, too. I’ll send them to Eric, let him decide where to use them at.”

  Alex nodded. Eric Olsen had once been a bitter rival to Alex. The son of the cofounder of the Okaw could have been arrested as a traitor for what he and his mother once attempted. But Alex chose reconciliation over retribution. His reward was a faithful, smart, and committed leader of the Republic’s second-largest province, one that made up the V between the Mississippi and Ohio rivers. Olsen also proved himself to be a strategic thinker second only to Alex.

  Alex mentally sifted through the different scenarios of a two-front war against a much larger enemy. The Republic had the best trained, best equipped and motivated militia in the modern world. There just weren’t enough of them for the overwhelming odds they faced.

  “We can’t get into a war of attrition,” Alex finally said quietly. Sam and Julia stayed silent, letting him work out a solution. Finally, his face lost the indecision as he settled on the idea both of his advisors feared. “Since the jijis are stacked up at Owensboro, we could use Lancer against them,” he said.

  Sam and Julia shared an uncomfortable glance, but neither replied.

  “Hey, you two, we caught a lucky break finding that stuff in Vincennes. Thank God no one else got their hands on it,” Alex said.

  When they remained silent, his face flushed. “We’re talking about a fight to the death with the Caliphate. You going soft on me now?” Alex snapped. His famous quick temper reared, more pronounced after near-fatal wounds he’d received in the siege of Shelbyville several years before. His family and most of his people loved him, but to a person they knew he possessed zero remorse when it came to killing enemies of the Republic. Even the leaders of the Unified Church – his spiritual guides – couldn’t stop him from obsessing over the elimination of potential threats.

  “Lancer is a can of worms I just don’t think we want to open right now, AJ,” Julia said, using his family nickname to soften his mood.

  “And we’ve never discussed using it on an occupied city,” Sam joined in. “There’s innocent civilians who got trapped by the invasion.”

  “If we take the city back by force, our bombs are going to land there amongst those same civilians. Why is Lancer any different?” Alex demanded. The look on his face had hardened, accentuated by the patch covering the eye destroyed in the same attack that killed Eric Olsen’s father.

  “Alex, Dad would never entertain the thought of using a weapon of mass destruction. We shouldn’t either,” Sam pleaded.

  “The Caliphate itself is a weapon of mass destruction, Sam!” Alex roared. “We must fight fire with fire!”

  Julia moved from behind the desk to shut the door out to the hallway. She didn’
t think there were spies hereabout, but with all the new faces around these days, no one could be sure.

  Alex recognized Julia’s move and lowered his volume, but not his tone. “They’re animals,” he growled. “Jijis aren’t people.” He paused and let that sink in on Sam. “You know what they’ve done. Worse than any rateater ever did, and we’ve killed those creatures by the bushel. Not just the men either, remember?”

  No one in the Republic forgot the rateaters. Every man and woman who lived inside a Fortress Farm for any length of time hated the thousands of escaped prisoners who appeared, raided, and then disappeared just as quickly. Jijis had only recently taken their place on the most hated list.

  Alex focused on his mother-in-law. “You knew dad as well or better than we did. He would have done anything to protect the Okaw and Old Main, right?”

  Julia reluctantly nodded.

  “Including Lancer,” Alex continued.

  “I’m just not sure about that, AJ,” she said.

  “But likely?”

  “Not at first, maybe later,” she said as she stared at the table.

  Alex turned back to his brother. “Dad hated rateaters and ditchers with every fiber of his being. I know there’s no weapon he wouldn’t have used against them.”

  “And now the ditcher tribes have come to us for help,” Sam said. “Maybe, just maybe, the jijis will too, someday. If we don’t go raining death on their heads.”

  “Only the Boar King’s tribes came to us for help; they can be tamed. I’ve got Father Steve’s word. The Boars weren’t like the rest of the savages. They tried to hold on to some sort of humanity, even if they had to make some alliances I don’t care for. The rest only know death, just like the Caliphate. We’ve learned that, haven’t we?”

  Julia and Sam both shrugged. Alex was right, so far there had been few if any deserters from the Caliphate ranks. Unlike the tribes of the wild lands now seeking protection of the Republic, the jihadists seemed to only want to conquer.