“I ain’t doin’ nothin’ to that girl,” Wil said, her tone defensive. “Her power growin’, Kane Shepherd. Changin’. Goin’ from a pup to a fine huntin’ dog, it is.”
“It’s…never been so clear,” Tabitha said, her white eyes wide, her lip trembling. “Hello? Who are you? Did you die? Did it hurt?” She shuddered, her voice going hard and deep as she answered herself. Her dialect changed, her tone more streetwise and firm as if she was impersonating an old man. Kane stepped back as she twitched, her body giving a jerk before she slumped over, her shoulders lowering into a slouch as she hung her head low.
“Hell yeah, it did. Mindin’ my own business, I was. Countin’ the minutes on that old watch I had.” She looked up, staring straight ahead, her body tense, her expression hard. “Tick! Tick! Tick! Man come outta the shadows. Tock! Tock! Tock! Gonna pull that watch.”
Her voice changed back to normal, airy and panicked.
“You…poor man. Why?”
Back to the man’s voice.
“Need my watch. Gonna fight that man. Not gonna die. Tick! Tock! Tick! Hearin’ that gun get a bullet ready. Tock!”
His watch? Why did he need his watch? Kane put it in the back of his mind, his heart pounding as he stepped towards Tabitha and put his hands on her shoulders, staring directly into her eyes as he spoke.
“Tabitha. I need to speak to Tabitha. Answer me. Are you in there?”
She twitched again, looking up at him, cocking her head to the side.
“Who that?” the man’s voice asked. “Ol’ girl? Tick! Where my watch? Tock! Got to draw that—Tick! Tock!” Her lip trembled, her body shaking. “No sound but a whisper from that there gat.” Her head snapped back, her body limp as she went down. Kane caught her, pulled her to him, guided her gently to the ground.
“Tabitha,” he said, shaking her. “Tabitha!”
“Give her a minute, boy,” Wil said, standing over them. “She need a minute. Vision that strong gonna take somethin’ outta her.”
Kane touched her face. She was still warm, still breathing. Her eyes fluttered open, her brilliant blues searching frantically.
“Kane?” She winced, put her hand to her head.
Kane nodded.
“Are you okay?”
“Ugh,” she said. “I feel like I just got hit by Thor’s Hammer.”
“That was a vision from Hell, girl,” Wilhelmina said with a chuckle. “Ain’t no premonition, that one! You a Seer, girl!”
Kane slowly helped Tabitha to her feet. She nodded, told him the headache was already fading away. He looked at Wil.
“Seer?”
“She speak to dead things,” Wil said. “Ghosts, Kane Shepherd. Them poor souls who can’t, or won’t, move on to that Afterlife.”
“I’ve never done that before,” Tabitha said. She shook her head. “Nope, that’s not right. I have visions. I don’t speak to dead people.” She shuddered. “Ew.”
Kane breathed out with relief. Same old Tabitha.
Wil laughed.
“You don’ need to have done it before,” she said. “Girl, if it in you, then it in you. And that man needed you. Him saw it, him spoke.”
A tear rolled down Tabitha’s cheek as she looked at Kane.
“That poor man.”
Kane looked at her.
“He said something about his watch. What was that all about?”
Tabitha shook her head.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It just kept rolling around in my head. Like I was asleep and dreaming about it.”
“That man’s watch,” Wil said. “It something else…”
Kane looked at her. Past her. Let her voice fade into a dull mumble as he focused his hearing into the darkness at the other end of the tunnel. Past the homeless lining the walls, muttering to each other. Mother comforted child. Friends spoke to each other. Some shooed others away. Past that. Footsteps. Boots crunching on gravel. Click-clack! Something slapped into place. Not a clip. Something else.
A man stood, approached the figure.
A loud breath. Muffled.
Masked.
Fft-fft-fft-fft!
The man dropped under a hail of gunfire. People screamed as more whispered rounds fired off, three more people falling over dead as bullets peppered the area. Kane shouted, yanked Tabitha around and down.
“Everybody down!”
More bullets. People screaming as they ran. Kane glanced around, saw Wil spin and duck behind a pillar. Kane saw Lexi laying on the ground, her arms around Wil’s possum. She cried, screaming. More bullets chipped away concrete from the walls. Kane rolled onto his back, put his hand in his pocket, drew his rune on his amulet. He looked at Tabitha and nodded.
“Aethereum Ignus!”
Kane sat up and hurled a fireball at the shooter. The gunman ducked it, aimed at a group of homeless fleeing the tunnel. Kane prepared another fireball as Tabitha shouted.
“Draugalega Frosti!”
Tabitha got to her feet, flung the ice spear at the gunman. He turned just as the spear connected with his hands, recoiled. The gun was knocked away. He held the injured hand, breathing heavy from the pain. Blood poured from the wound.
Kane stood, the fireball in his palm building to an explosive. He hurled it at the gunman. The man dove to the side as the fireball hit the ground and exploded, dirt and rock flying everywhere. He heard Wil shout something unintelligible, Lexi screaming in return.
“No! No, I can’t!”
“You get on yo’ feet now, girl,” Wil shouted. “You listen to this Conjure Lady!”
More bullets sang through the air. Homeless dropped left and right, blood running in rivers as the rain hammered the ground outside. Kane ducked, swept his leg out. His shin caught Tabitha by the heels, kicked her feet out from underneath her. She landed on her rump as a stream of rounds hit the concrete where her head would’ve been. Kane looked around, saw Lexi screaming and crying as the gunman continued to mow down fleeing homeless. He made for her, shouting the spell as he went.
“Ethereal Clypeus!”
He held his arm up as the shield flashed from the bullets flattening themselves against the barrier. He scooped Lexi up off the ground and dragged her to Wilhelmina quickly. The gunman reloaded. Kane spun on his heel, the fireball already boiling in his hand. He hurled it at the shooter, caught the enemy unaware. The ground exploded. The shooter went airborne and landed in a heap several feet back. The man got to his feet quickly and lobbed something into the air. He turned and ran into the rain as soon as the object was out of his hand. Everything slowed as Kane watched the round ball come at him.
The grenade.
Kane hurled a fireball at the explosive, shouted at Tabitha to get down, and covered Lexi with his body. The fireball connected with the grenade. The heat from the explosion was nothing short of what he’d felt in while Charleston had burned around him. He looked up as the heat and flash subsided, listened for another burst of fire from the gun.
Nothing.
Kane looked around, the fallen littering the place. Men. Women.
Children.
A few ran into the rain, covering their eyes against the acidic water while others used coats as rain canopies as they made their escape. Tabitha went to Kane.
“I can’t find him! I think he’s gone!”
Kane looked around. He wanted to cast his Ethereal Sight, but he had two spells going already. He couldn’t afford to risk his amulet.
“Take Lexi and Wil out of here,” he said. “Get them to Antonia’s. The basement. Keep it quiet.”
“Ain’t no need,” Wil said. “Gots me a good place I can go. That man never find me.” She held Lexi close, the girl’s face buried in the Marsh Witch’s bosom as she wept, the possum still in her arms. “Or this sweet baby girl.” Wil looked back up at Kane. “You done stunned that man. Go get him, but don’ think for a minute him not spry.” Wil and Lexi vanished instantly, the smell of grass and pluff mud in the air where they’d sat.
Kane looked at Tabitha, saw the tears running down her cheeks.
“Kane,” she said, her voice cracking as she looked around. Kane followed her gaze to the dozen or so bodies that lay bleeding on the ground. He counted at least six men. Four women. Four children, maybe ten to twelve years of age. One of them looked to be in his early teens.
Kane fought back the lump in his throat. They’d been ambushed. Attacked, the killer acting with no remorse or hesitation. He didn’t care who was in his way, who his bullets went to. It answered at least one question for Kane.
They were dealing with a psychopath.
Something caught Kane’s eye. He moved past Tabitha, stepped toward a man’s body. Something stuck out in the dirt from beneath him. Black. Metal. Kane reached down and pulled the strange gun out from underneath the body. The barrel was extended, the piece at the end of the barrel slightly wider than the original barrel. Kane looked down the rest of the gun. It looked like a rifle, but it had a strange drum-shaped canister attached to it. A pistol-grip handle was on either side of the drum, and the stock was no different than a rifle or blunderbuss. The thing was still warm to the touch.
“Kane, look,” Tabitha said from behind him. He looked over his shoulder and saw that she’d found another drum identical to the one attached to the gun. “What is it?”
Kane looked back down at the weapon.
“I don’t know.”
Krieg stared at the gun, adjusted the magnifier on his goggles as he leaned in closer.
“This is a remarkable firearm,” he said. “Frankly, I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
Kane bristled.
“It killed about fourteen people an hour or so ago,” he said. “I don’t think ‘remarkable’ is the word I’d use.”
Krieg looked up and gave a solemn nod.
“My apologies, good sir. I meant no insensitivity.” He motioned at the gun. “This is a Thompson Submachine gun. Also referred to as a ‘Tommy Gun.’ It was invented by John T. Thompson roughly three years ago. In fact, I speculate that he drew much of his inspiration and design from Hiram Maxim.” Krieg glanced at Kane. “Senior. Not Junior. Thompson and Maxim were friends, so it’s likely that Mr. Maxim shared his ideas and concepts with his chum.”
Kane rubbed his eyes, already guessing where this was going.
“This isn’t our machine gun, is it?”
“Oh, heavens no.” Krieg shook his head. “No, my dear boy. This is far from it.”
“What’s the difference?” Tabitha asked. She shuddered, crossing her arms in front of her as she stared bitterly at the Tommy gun. “It still killed a lot of people in a short amount of time.”
“The difference is what this weapon fires, dear lady,” Krieg said. “This device is designed to used handgun ammunition. The general idea was to be able to load it in a pinch. Small caliber handgun ammunition is far more accessible than high-powered ammunition. The Maxim Machine Gun fires high-caliber, high-velocity rounds. Each bullet is roughly three inches or better, casing and all. It’s fed via an ‘ammo belt,’ if you will. No chambers or clips.”
“How do you know all of this?” Kane asked, raising an eyebrow at Krieg.
Krieg smiled.
“Firearms are part of the job, good sir. I must know everything I can to identify bullets that kill my guests when they grace my humble office for examination. I also have quite the love of history, and firearms often play an interesting, yet unfortunate role.” He motioned to the Tommy gun again. “This device is no different in that regard.”
Kane heard Tabitha sniff. He looked at her, saw her wiping tears from her eyes as she turned away.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice low. “I…I can’t look at it. I don’t want to look at it anymore.”
Kane looked back to Krieg.
“Adults weren’t the only targets today,” he said.
Krieg stiffened, his eyes widening slightly.
“Oh, dear God,” he said. “Horrible.” He moved back to the gun. “Kane, it disturbs me that you’ve brought this gun here.”
“Why is that?”
Krieg leveled his stare at Kane, his jaw set as he spoke.
“You are not supposed to have this weapon. No one is.”
Kane looked down at the gun, then back up at Krieg.
“Do tell.”
“John Thompson disappeared before this gun could be sold for mass manufacturing. He documented his design and the testing well. In fact, he did a far better job than the Maxims did. It’s why I know so much more about this piece than the inventions of the Hiram Maxim gentlemen. They were gone, along with their schematics, long before they could manufacture more than one unit.” Krieg pointed at the submachine gun. “This weapon, on the other hand, was not alone. John Thompson managed to create two before his disappearance. The original was flawed. It was notorious for backfiring. Based on your observations, I’m willing to say that this model is the second, if not a reverse-engineered unit.”
“Which means that there’s a possibility another one of these floating around out there,” Kane said. “Swell.”
“This leads me to believe that our gunman is somehow connected to the disappearances of our gunmakers.” Krieg stood straight. “Thompson vanished in the same manner as the Maxims: no trace, all of his designs, schematics, and notes gone.” Krieg went to his file cabinet, pointing to the ceiling as if he’d suddenly remembered something. He opened the cabinet and thumbed through the files as he spoke. “However, Mr. Thompson was a meticulous man.” He pulled a file out and closed the cabinet. “He made copies of everything before his untimely departure. Copies that he entrusted to me to keep safe.”
“He was a friend of yours?” Kane asked.
“Oh, a colleague, really,” Krieg said as he brought the file to the table and laid it down next to the gun. “He had an interest in forensic science, and we met at a crime scene a number of years before you came to New Chicago.”
“I wonder if he’s our shooter?” Kane said, rubbing the stubble on his chin in thought.
Krieg shook his head.
“Not likely. You mentioned that our shooter could hold himself well in hand-to-hand combat. Mr. Thompson was what one would call a ‘Glass Jaw.’ It was why he had a love of firearms. He was an excellent shot, but unable to carry himself in a physical altercation.” Krieg stepped close to Kane. “No, my wager is that our gunman is connected to the disappearances of our three tinkerers. Find him, and we may get answers. But something else is troubling.”
“Maxim’s machine gun.”
“It’s missing, Kane. This gun you’ve recovered is a child’s toy by comparison. A plaything. What Maxim’s invention can do is far more devastating.”
Tabitha fidgeted in her chair, staring absently out the window into the dimming daylight as she wrung her fingers and moved her leg rapidly. Kane watched her as she sighed and looked away, was well aware that something was bothering her.
It was probably the same thing that was on his mind.
She took them back to her apartment so she could get a few things, making sure that they ended up in the alleyway first in order to make sure that the police or Special Forces weren’t casing the place. The window was still blown out, the place a far worse wreck from their previous encounter. Tabitha went to her bedroom to get a change of clothes while Kane waited in the living room.
Krieg’s information hadn’t answered the questions Kane was hoping for. In fact, while somewhat useful, it had only raised more. Three tinkerers gone, their inventions and files gone with them. What did it mean? Who would need that kind of artillery?
The first and obvious guess was the Special Forces. That kind of weaponry would make them utterly invincible. Guns that could kill dozens of people with the squeeze of a trigger would ensure that no army stood a chance against them.
Not even the Northern Union army, if they were still around.
After the Oligarchs had fully taken the government over, the Union Army was all
but shut down. Thousands of troops were decommissioned, many of them joining up with the up-and-coming Special Forces, a private army funded exclusively by corporate interests. It was a terrifying thought turned reality. A private army at the beck and call of men driven by wealth and greed.
And nothing the people could’ve done to stop it.
“Want to tell me what happened back there?” Kane said. “Before the shooter showed up?”
Tabitha didn’t look at him as he spoke.
“It was all so clear, Kane. He was there. He was talking to me. I saw everything through his eyes.” She looked at him, her expression haunted. “Everything.”
“What happened?”
“He was going to come to Antonia’s and ask for food. A place to sleep for the night, even if it was outside. The killer showed up and shot him.” She shook her head. “But there’s more.”
Kane nodded.
“Yeah, there always is.” He moved closer to her. “What was all that about his pocket watch? He…you…you guys mentioned it a few times.”
“Oh,” Tabitha said, distracted. “That. Yeah. He was a Magician.”
Kane froze.
“Wait. What?”
“The pocket watch,” she said, her tone casual. “It was his amulet. He wasn’t able to activate it in time. I don’t know what his element was, though.” A tear ran down her cheek as she fought to control her lip from trembling. “Now we’ll never know. Poor man.”
Kane found another chair that had managed to stay intact during the fight, pulled it up, and sat down across from Tabitha. He leaned in close, kept his voice low as he spoke. He didn’t want to do anything that could risk upsetting her, or it would be morning before he got anything out of her.
“Did you know there were more Magicians in New Chicago than just us?”
She shook her head, her expression innocent.
“No, not at all,” she said. “As far as I knew, it was you, me, and Jonesy.”
Kane sat back in his chair. Another Magician in New Chicago. Again. First Daniel, now a homeless man. Who else? They were all but extinct…or were they?
Gaslit Revolution Page 10
