Generation Z (Book 6): The Queen Unchained

by Meredith, Peter

  Alcatraz Island, San Francisco

  The new winter wind brought with it the acrid smell of burning ships. To Queen Jenn Lockhart, standing on the roof of the prison, the smell was finer than roses.

  It was the smell of victory, revenge and, for her only, love.

  That there were fires at all was proof of that love. Only her Mike could have rallied the few remaining troops to fight to the death. Everyone who had fought on the Headlands knew that if they survived long enough to climb beneath the structure lifting the great ruddy bridge aloft, they would never climb back down again. There was only one way off of it—a long terrible fall.

  Mike outlined his plan in such a way that the best possible outcome was described in glowing, courageous terms, and the likely death of everyone involved was brushed past with barely a mention. Jenn had worried that no one in their right mind would ever go under the bridge to begin with, and if they did, they wouldn’t cut the anchors loose and expose themselves.

  “If one person does it, the rest will have no choice,” Mike had told her as they stood on that very spot a week before.

  But who would be that one person? The call went out and, as Jenn had known would happen, no one had volunteered until Mike did, and she had known that it would be the same on the bridge. If Mike didn’t start the fight, the anchors would never be cut and the Corsairs would race into the bay like famished wolves.

  A part of her heart had died when he raised his hand to volunteer to lead the defense. Another part had died when he had sailed away the day before. And when the Headlands had been overrun, the remaining chunk of her heart had turned to bitter ash inside of her.

  Impossibly, he had lived. She absolutely knew it. Her heart bounded into life and, instead of dying once again as the gunfire slackened she knew he had somehow escaped the bridge as well. In her mind, it was an unalterable fact. She had given him up for dead once and she wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.

  Across from her, bent over a second telescope in such a way that a third chin had been added to his second, was Bishop Wojdan. He had asked for a sign and the sudden way in which the battle beneath the bridge had begun made him think that God had listened and had given him one. This was not a new occurrence for him. Whereas Jenn saw signs everywhere, he saw the hand of God in so many things.

  It had been God who had called the Guardians to the Pacific years before, and it had been God who had kept them safe all that time. The fact that everything they would need to build their wall had been provided for was part of God’s plan, just as it was God who had made the zombies bypass Highton during its construction. As far as Bishop Wojdan was concerned, everything good on earth came from God and everything bad came from man.

  It was a belief that had been easily defended right up until the old Queen had shown up with her Corsair armada and her insane eyes. After that, everything had been turned on its head. She wanted war to end war. She wanted to use Corsairs to fight the Corsairs. She wanted to protect her people by sacrificing her people in battle. She wanted to rule with all the power of a slave master so she could free the world from slavery.

  Like most people, she was both good and evil. Unlike so many, the extremes of both existed within her. It was this that had made Wojdan fear her, and that had been a mistake. He saw that now. God had moved Knights Sergeant Troy Holt to accompany her north, and he had come back with tales of sacrifice and love that had changed him. He believed wholeheartedly that not joining the Queen’s crusade against the Corsairs had been a grave error, and although he didn’t come right out and say it, he suggested strongly that the war had come south because one man, Bishop Wojdan, had given in to fear.

  Wojdan was beginning to think he was right.

  Not all was lost, however. Wojdan peered through the telescope and saw the hand of God in the fires, the explosions, and the sinking ships. They represented a glimmer of hope and perhaps a shot at redemption.

  But at what price? he thought, sighing and stepping back from the telescope. Whatever the price, it would have to be paid. The only question he had was could he trust this new queen to lead? She was even younger than the last one, and perhaps because of that, she lacked the strangely beguiling presence of Jillian.

  Still, there was something about her that made him stare as the torch light flickered in her blue eyes and across her rosy cheeks. Even though sixty of her people were now dead, her expression was one of complete serenity. Wojdan didn’t know what to think about that, especially as he didn’t know what the right expression should be.

  Sixty had died, but they had died for a reason. They had died so that their fellow men could live. Should they be mourned or celebrated? Should she be crying for them and their families, or smiling because of their victory.

  He was turning this over in his head when Commander Walker broke in on his thoughts by saying, “They say you practice witchcraft, your Highness. They say you see the future.” It was more of an accusation than a question. And a strange one coming from him. With his spear shining gold in the firelight and the shadows pooling in the hollow of his eyes, he appeared to Wojdan like something not quite human.

  Behind him, Donna Polston dropped her chin, wishing she was someplace else. She had been the last leader of the Coven and although they had never claimed to be actual witches, they had never discouraged the rumors that had been spread far and wide about the extent of their “witchy” powers.

  Jenn glanced briefly at her before addressing the comment. “The old Queen, Jillian didn’t believe in second sight or even signs. She said that the only gift I possess is insight based on experience, intellect and perception. I honestly don’t know what the truth is. Sometimes I know things that I shouldn’t know. Or I know things that come true later. That’s all. I don’t, like, sacrifice animals or drink blood under a full moon.”

  Walker grunted and Jenn couldn’t tell whether he believed her or not. “I don’t care if you believe me about any of that. All I care about is that you believe me when I say we will be destroyed if we stay divided. That is a fact.”

  “The Bishop has always agreed that we have to unify,” Walker said. “But then you insisted that you lead us, without ever giving us a reason why. Why should we trust you of all people?”

  Despite the pugnacity of the questions, Walker was secretly impressed by the young queen. Her attitude was I am Queen until someone proves otherwise, and so far, no had been able to. He also approved of the tenacity of the bridge defenders, as well as the overall conception of its defense. Had the Islanders staked everything on defending the Headlands, they would have lost everything in that one roll of the dice. By seeming to offer only a token resistance, they had lured the ships in, and now at least twenty had gone down. He could honestly say the bold idea was something he hadn’t considered.

  Jenn wanted to laugh at the question. As far as she was concerned, there was no reason that anyone should trust her as a leader. She wanted to answer: You shouldn’t. I’m just a kid! Only a fool would trust me.

  She would have said this if it were entirely true, but it wasn’t.

  “There’s only one reason I should lead and it’s not because of a sign or any special witchy powers. It’s because Jillybean chose me. She has met all of us and has seen us in our roles. Bishop Wojdan as religious leader, Commander Walker as military leader, Donna as leader of the Hilltop, Gerry the Greek as leader of the Islanders. She’s met ship captains, pirates, Knights Sergeants and strange backwoods creatures who were generals at one time. Out of all of them, she chose me.”

  She hesitated, her serene smile dimming for just a second before she admitted, “And I honestly don’t know why.”

  None of them knew either. Walker shrugged and Donna looked back at the ground. Bishop Wojdan looked like he wanted to say something nice about Jenn, but he didn’t know her well enough to make the attempt.

  The only person who said anything was Shaina Hale, who was standing practically at the Bishop’s elbow as if she were an adv
isor or even his equal. “It’s because you’re great,” the wobbly woman said. Her smile was aglow with giddy happiness; it was as bright as her eyes were dim. “Yeah, you’re great. You and the old Queen are. You’re both nice to people like me. You know, people who aren’t…you know.”

  Her smile dipped a bit, but only for a second before it burst out anew. “And you’re smart, and you heal people, and you’re really brave. Yeah, you even stood up to the old Queen when she was not right in the head. Nobody ever did that ‘cept for you. And everyone knows you came back from the dead. Only really great people can be dead and come back again. That was sad you know, when you died, I mean.”

  The last few sentences had Wojdan staring at Jenn as if looking for any hint of witchcraft. Her rosy cheeks went red. “I drank poison that only made it look like I was dead.”

  “No,” Shaina insisted. “She really was dead. I felt her. She was cold and stiff. And we put her on a sinking boat, and it sunk and everything. Either way, I like you even more than the old Queen. She was great too and all, but she could be scary and I sometimes didn’t understand her. You, I always understand. You make sure I understand and that makes me feel good.”

  “Thank you, Shaina,” Jenn said, embarrassed and feeling the need to downplay all the nice things she had said.

  Before she could, Donna spoke up, saying, “I think you’re great, too. Greater than I ever gave you credit for.” Donna’s smile was sad and there were sudden tears in her eyes. “I kinda mistreated you and I’m sorry.” The words: That’s okay were forming on Jenn’s lips when Donna seemed to grow angry. “You know what? She is great, your Excellency. It was Jenn who made the journey to find the ‘Girl Doctor.’ And it was Jenn who won the first battle of the Hilltop.”

  “No, it was all of…”

  “It was you,” Donna insisted. “You were the only one brave enough to go outside the fence-line. The zombies attacked the Corsairs only because of you. And you were the one who kept us together and saved us when Jillybean blew up the Sea King. You were a real queen then, just as good as Jillybean. That’s why I’m following you. That’s why we’re all following you. I can go get fifty more people who’ll say the same thing.”

  Bishop Wojdan shook his head, letting his jowls swing. “That won’t be necessary. Sixty people already paid her the ultimate compliment.” He gestured to the bridge. “They were willing to die for their queen.”

  Jenn did not like the sound of that. “They died for us.”

  His delicate hands went to their customary spot behind his back. “Yes, but they would not have done it on their own. A leader has to be able to instill the concept of ‘Us’ in her people. It’s a rare ability, especially when the people are as disparate as the ones you lead.” He paused and sighed, shooting Commander Walker a quick look. The commander gave a noncommittal shrug, leaving everything in the Bishop’s hands.

  Wojdan’s next sigh was a long one that morphed into a grunt as he went down on his knees. The Guardians couldn’t win without help and this was the price to save his people. Jenn put out her bare hand, which he kissed, his lips soft as a woman’s. “You are now my queen and I am your faithful servant.”

  Humbled, she could only nod once. He refused help up. When he was on his feet, he stepped back for Commander Walker.

  “Do you promise not to waste the lives of my men?” the knight demanded, eyeing her closely.

  She knew the correct answer, because it was the same that Jillybean had given once. “They are my men now, and I would never waste the life of any of them. Besides, I don’t know enough about the military or war to fling men about on a whim. It’s why I need a general. Will you be that general?”

  He knelt and kissed her hand. The kiss was rougher than expected, the light stubble of his day-old beard was like sandpaper. After he stood, the rest of the Bishop’s entourage followed his example, starting with Troy Holt. While still on his knees, he asked, “May I take the Queen’s Revenge to gather the rest of our fleet from the Pacific side? We’re going to need every boat we can get if we are to have any chance. And if we move right now before the Corsairs consolidate a really good hold on the bridge, we might be able to slip past.”

  It was something Mike would have asked, and if he had asked it, she wouldn’t have been able to say no. But Mike was a genius with boats and Troy was merely an excellent seaman.

  “No. I’m sorry. No boat can make it through while the Corsairs hold the bridge.”

  “Then may I have permission to retake the bridge? We have nearly three hundred knights in Half Moon Bay. If we hurry, we can take the bridge before morning.”

  Commander Walker glared at Holt, not happy that the Knights Sergeant was blatantly bypassing the chain of command. “You’ll just be hurrying to your death, Holt. They attacked with over a thousand men. They’re not going to give up the bridge without a fight, and it’ll be a fight you can’t win. They control the sea; they’ll land men behind you and cut you to pieces.”

  “Not if we move like lightening,” Holt countered. “You know as well as I do that we can’t sit on the defensive reacting to their moves. If our men at Half Moon Bay won’t fight, they might as well wrap themselves in chains now and give up.”

  Walker began to swell in anger, while Troy’s face turned hard as stone. Before the two men could say something they might regret, Bishop Wojdan intervened. “Maybe we should find out what the Queen has planned.”

  It was a struggle for Jenn to remain calm with these important men towering over her and a crowd of onlookers nearby, waiting for her to set out some sort of amazing Jillybean-like strategy. “Sadly, we do not have much,” she admitted. “Mike has placed traps around the bay for their ships to fall into, but we don’t know how to lure the Corsairs into them. Defensively, we have so few true fighters that our only hope is that they come straight at us and try to take Alcatraz head on.”

  “Which they won’t,” Walker said. He was at something of a loss. Counting the Floating Fortress, they had four islands to defend and only enough men to adequately hold one of them at a time. Logic suggested that everyone be moved to Treasure Island. The Floating Fortress was no fortress at all. It was little more than a waterborne redoubt. Alcatraz was too small for so many people, and Angel Island didn’t have enough fresh water to support the people already there, let alone another two thousand people.

  This left flat, easily attacked Treasure Island. It would be no haven for nearly four-thousand people, most of whom were women and children. With no orchards or farms, and only a small cove to fish in, they’d be starved into submission in a matter of weeks.

  Troy had known this which was why he’d been pushing for an attack. Even an insane one would give the defenders a little more time to prepare some sort of trick or trap. The fight beneath the bridge had won them a single night to come up with something. Thinking out loud, the young knight said, “The Corsairs will wait until morning to be completely sure that the area beneath the bridge is completely clear. Only then will they bring the rest of their fleet through.”

  “By then they’ll have completely fortified both sides of the bridge,” Walker added. “For now, it’ll be sandbags and cars, but eventually there’ll be walls on both sides.”

  Troy agreed. “Yes, but that won’t be for weeks. We have to worry about tomorrow. Once they have free access to the bay, they’ll probe here and there, looking to see where we are strong and where we are weak.”

  Walker stared out over the dark bay. Angel Island was lit up and to a lesser extent so was Treasure Island. The Floating Fortress was nothing but a black husk sitting out in the middle of the bay. “They’ll go for that barge first. A handful of torpedoes fired at extreme range should do it. Next, they’ll cut right between us and Angel Island. If we fire, it’ll be from three-quarters of a mile.”

  “That’s far even for a marksman,” Troy said. There were precious few of those left in the world since practice used up rounds people didn’t have. “Once past us, they’ll us
e smoke to test our defenses on Treasure Island.”

  “In the day?” Walker shook his large head. “I doubt it. No, they’ll come at night when their ships will blend in with the dark hills. But you’re right about the first attack. It’ll only be a test. They’ll want to judge our reaction. Will we panic? Will we send in our small fleet to throw more troops into the fight? Will we fire a few shots and try to make a swim for safety?”

  The little crowd leaned in, waiting to hear the answers to the questions and when Walker didn’t elaborate, Wojdan asked, “What will we do?”

  Troy met Walker’s eyes and they both shrugged. “There’s no right answer,” Troy replied for both of them. “If the Black Captain has spies among us, then he knows we don’t have a lot of ammo, which means he knows we can’t afford days of battle. He knows we can only win in a toe-to-toe slugging match, and that’s not something he’s going to give us.”

  “If our greatest military minds cannot find the answer, then maybe, like I said, we should look to our new queen for guidance,” Wojdan said. “Your Highness, if you have any insight, second sight or even third sight, now is the time we need it. We’ve banded together and yet we seem just as lost.”

  “I wish it were that easy, but I can’t just turn it off and on whenever I want. It doesn’t work like that.”

  “Of course, you can’t turn it off,” Wojdan replied. “That’s because it’s always on. You just have to open your eyes and your mind.” He took her by the hand and gently turned her in a slow circle. “The answer is in front of you.”

  How did he expect her to pull some strategy out of thin air when she had everyone staring at her? Shaina was beaming in complete trust, while Donna was nodding encouragement. This was countered by Walker’s hard look. Past them was Faith Checkamian’s dour skepticism and the Guardian’s nurse Denise Woodruff, who seemed pleasantly hopeful. In front of her, and going from foot to foot as if she had to pee was little Lindy Smith. With her stood Commander Walker’s daughter Ryanne; she didn’t have to pee but thought Lindy’s dance was neat and was doing it too.