Gaslit Revolution

by Jason Gilbert

  Tabitha let out a gasp as Wil chuckled.

  “Him had whatch’a call a ‘contingency.’ Backup plan. Him didn’t want nobody to know who been pullin’ that trigger.”

  “Which means he was working for someone,” Kane said. “Which means…” Kane looked at Wilhelmina. “Which means Wil was right. He was a distraction.”

  “From what?” Tabitha asked.

  “Whoever he was working for,” Kane said. “Which may have been Gentry, himself. This whole thing was a setup. I was meant to kill Frostmeyer. Chesterfield and Gentry put it together. Christ. How did they even know I’d be there?”

  “Got me a better question,” Wil said. “What you gonna do about it? Ain’t nothin’ you can do. We at war, now. Them Special Forces man gonna march in now. You done turned your Hidden Valley into a battleground, Kane Shepherd.”

  “It wasn’t Kane’s fault,” Tabitha said, her tone defensive. “We can prove it!”

  “How, girl?” Wil snapped. “How you gonna manage to do that without gettin’ yourself killed dead? They don’ even need proof of you bein’ a Magician to get away with murder anymore. You gonna show them what you just seen, and they gonna make your magical blood run in the street.” She shook her head. “No, girl. This fight not about Tabitha Drake. Tabitha Drake didn’t kill that man. Kane Shepherd did. Kane Shepherd gotta make it right.”

  Tabitha spoke again, her body rigid. Kane looked at her, saw her eyes go solid white. Her body shuddered as she breathed. She spoke, her voice light and airy.

  “They’re here, Miss Antonia. They’re looking for Kane.”

  Kane made sure his amulet was activated before Tabitha took them to Antonia’s house. They landed in the back, the ground icy from the travel spell. Kane made for the porch, a fireball in his hand. He heard Tabitha cast her frost spell as he hit the steps two at a time and barged through the back door into the kitchen. He heard commotion in the front of the house, men talking as Antonia shouted at them.

  “You get your damn hands off me, boy!”

  Danwood’s graveled voice answered.

  “Can it, Boudreaux,” he said. “You’ve been harboring Kane Shepherd and Tabitha Drake. Now the President is dead. I’ve got you on harboring a fugitive, conspiracy, and collusion in the assassination of the President of the Northern Union.”

  Kane heard Antonia spit.

  “I’m glad he’s dead, the piece of shit!” Her voice lowered. “I hope you’re next, you son of a bitch.”

  “We can solve this easy, Boudreaux,” Kane heard Danwood say. “See, we’ve been on to you for a few days. Just been waiting to see what happens. See if Shepherd comes out of hiding. Maybe we can take him quiet-like. His girl, too. So you tell me where he is, and I leave you alone. Take those cuffs off, walk away, and the house is still standing.”

  Kane put his hand on the door. Tabitha grabbed his arm and whispered.

  “Kane! No!”

  “Just be ready,” Kane said, letting out a loud breath.

  “Even if I knew where he was, I wouldn’t tell you,” Antonia said loudly. “In fact, I’d tell him to stay where the hell he is. That man left here, ain’t seen him in a day at least. And I don’t know nothin’ about him killin’ the President.” She paused, let out a loud sigh. “Yes, they came here. I let them stay a few days. Didn’t know what Kane was up to, don’t know when he left. I was cookin’ at the time.”

  “What about the girl?” Danwood asked. “Tabitha Drake?”

  “She gone with him,” Antonia said. “I told that girl not to leave that man’s side. Fool can’t take care of himself. He needs a woman to look after him.”

  Another officer spoke.

  “The scout confirms they left sometime yesterday,” he said. “According to the device, they headed West.”

  Scout? Device? Shit, Kane thought. So they did have a Seeker. Likely, it was the Gunman who was the scout. It made sense. Using a Hunter as a Scout hadn’t been uncommon during the war.

  Except now their Hunter was dead. The Gunman had melted his own skull to keep from being identified. So who were they talking about?

  Kane heard the sound of handcuffs being unlocked. He heard Antonia grumble a few curse words as Danwood lit a match.

  “Getting off easy this time, Boudreaux.” He breathed in and out. Kane could smell the cigar from across the house. “Pack it up, boys. We’re done here.”

  Kane heard the sound of people leaving. He heard Danwood’s heavy steps on the front porch, heard the fat man grunt as he walked down the front steps.

  “Nice house, Boudreaux. Could use a little touching up, but nice place.”

  “Be nicer when you leave,” Antonia spat. The front door slammed.

  Kane made his way out of the kitchen and down the hall, Tabitha close behind him. Antonia, Sandra, and all six of Antonia’s girls were gathered in the foyer. Antonia turned to Kane and huffed.

  “I almost went to jail for you,” she said. “I hope it’s worth it. They tellin’ the truth? Frostmeyer is dead?”

  “Yeah,” Kane said. “And I did it. On accident. I was trying to cook Chesterfield.”

  “And the Gunman was there,” Tabitha said. “He almost killed all of us.”

  Sandra moved past Kane, looking at him sidelong as she made her way to the front door and looked out through the glass. Kane heard something outside, opened his hearing again.

  Danwood’s voice.

  “Make sure no one gets out. Shoot them if they do.”

  A clockwork horse started up, and a carriage pulled off as footsteps walked back towards the house. A match was struck. Something burning. Liquid in a bottle. Sandra taking in a deep breath. A gasp.

  Kane pulled his hearing back in, rushed to Sandra, yanked her away from the door as a bottle of liquid crashed through the door glass, a burning rag hanging out of the top. The bottle hit the floor, broke on impact, flames spreading in all directions.

  Chapter Eleven

  Glass flew around them as more makeshift bottle bombs sailed through windows. Dining room, parlor, everything was engulfed as the liquid spread fire in all directions. Carpet and drapery went to flame as the walls began to scorch and burn. The girls screamed as the air filled with smoke and ash. Kane looked through the hole in the front door where glass used to be, saw the porch on fire.

  Saw the police officers and Special Forces outside with rifles and revolvers pointed. One of the Special Forces men had a blunderbuss. A scattershot would be impossible to dodge.

  Tabitha shouted from behind.

  “Kane! The back door!”

  “It’s the only other way out,” Antonia said over the roar of the fire. “Ain’t no side doors!”

  “They’ll likely have the back covered,” Kane said. “We’re gonna have a fight on our hands either way.”

  “Better than burnin’ alive!”

  Kane’s ear twitched. Give them a warning. Lock and load. Take aim.

  “Down!”

  Everyone hit the floor, one girl screaming in agony as blood poured from the wound in her shoulder. Another rolled down the stairs, tripping up the others, her body coming to a stop on the floor as blood seeped from the hole where her eyeball had once been.

  Tabitha was up first, helping Sandra get Antonia to her feet. The other girls worked to help the injured one up. Kane got up and moved to the front door, saw the men outside getting ready for another round.

  Not gonna miss this time, he thought. “Ethereal Infernus!”

  The sidewalk underneath one of the Special Forces troops turned red as fire erupted from the concrete, covered the man. He hammered at his helmet, the heat melting the copper to his skin as he fell to his knees. The others backed away as he reached for them, pleading for help. He finally succeeded in pulling his helmet off with this other hand, the glowing copper coming away easily, falling apart, taking hair and scalp with it. The man collapsed as the Ethereal Hellfire faded back, leaving nothing but his smoking corpse behind.

  “There’s on
e,” Kane said. “Everyone out back. Tabitha, take lead!”

  Tabitha nodded.

  “Right!”

  Kane spun on his heel and helped the girls get their injured sister down the steps and towards the kitchen, the others following Tabitha closely as more gunshots sounded from the front of the house. A bullet zipped by Kane’s ear, slammed into the wall next to the kitchen door as they entered. More shots. A shout. Cursing. Wailing.

  Kane stopped as Antonia went down onto her side on the kitchen floor, her knee bleeding as she cried out. Sandra screamed, went to her.

  “Miss Antonia, no!”

  Antonia grabbed her arm.

  “Get them chirrin’ out of here,” she said. “Go on, girl! Git!”

  Kane went to her, knelt down as Tabitha grouped the girls in the back corner away from the windows and had them crouch down. Smoke began to fill the kitchen as the fire raged.

  “Antonia, let us help you up,” Kane said. “We gotta go!”

  Antonia shoved Kane away.

  “Get them girls out of here, Kane! Go on!”

  The window over the sink collapsed under gunfire. The girls screamed as a bottle bomb flew in and smashed on the countertop. Another came in and hit the floor, the fire spreading quickly. Antonia shoved Kane again.

  “Go, boy!”

  Kane got to his feet and went to Tabitha. Sandra tried to rally the girls, glancing at Kane as she spoke.

  “Stay calm! Someone get water!”

  “Too late for that,” Kane said. He looked at Tabitha. “We need to clear the back.”

  “I saw out the window,” she said. “There’s only three of them.”

  Kane conjured a fireball and began to charge it in his hand.

  “Three on two. Doesn’t seem fair.”

  Tabitha nodded.

  “Draugalega Frosti!”

  Tabitha’s hand turned blue as she spun and hurled a large blast of ice at the door. The door shattered from the blow. Kane moved to the porch as the two officers and the soldier with them ducked the flying debris. He hurled the fireball directly at the soldier in the middle of the other two. The blast sent pieces of Special Forces armor and trooper in all directions, sent the other two officers airborne. One recovered quickly, aimed his revolver at Kane and fired. Kane ducked the rounds and sent a fireball his way. The man caught it in the face, screamed as his flesh burned, his head on fire. He put his hands up, slapping himself to try and put it out.

  Kane spotted the Templar tattoo on the back of the cop’s hand.

  The other was on his feet. He fired, the bullet clipping Kane as it buried itself in the wall. He ignored the pain from the scratch, sent a fireball at the shooter. The blast hit the rifle, caused it to explode in the cop’s hand. The officer went flying backwards, smacked into the back fence. He hit the ground and lay still.

  “Kane!”

  Kane turned at the sound of Tabitha’s voice. He stepped aside as she and Sandra helped the rest of the girls out of the burning house. They made their way to the rear of the back yard. Tabitha looked at Kane, her face flushed and dirty with ash.

  “Where’s Antonia?” Kane said.

  “She’s still in there,” Sandra said from behind Tabitha. “Oh God!”

  Kane spun and bolted for the burning house. He heard the creaking and cracking from inside, the groaning of wood. He didn’t have long.

  He made it into the kitchen, the room engulfed, the air heavy with smoke. Embers and debris fell around him as the house groaned again. The heat took his breath away. His clothes were drenched in sweat, his skin hot, the smell of his nose hairs burning rancid and sick. He looked around the sea of fire, saw Antonia on the floor.

  Unconscious. She was unconscious.

  The hem of her skirt had caught fire. Kane stamped it out, reached down, grabbed Antonia by both arms and sat her up. He needed to get her up off the floor. Needed to get her out. The smoke burned his lungs, dried his throat. He staggered as a coughing fit hit him. The smoke was too heavy. His head spun from the heat.

  Keep it together, Shepherd, he thought. The house shook as something collapsed on the front side. Kane pulled Antonia up, slung her arm over his shoulders, and wrapped his arm around her waist as he pulled her the rest of the way to her feet. She lolled her head around, mumbled something he couldn’t understand.

  “Stay with me, Antonia,” Kane said. “C’mon! We gotta go!”

  He pulled her along, her feet dragging as they fumbled to take steps, Antonia barely fighting to stay lucid. Something cracked in front of them, the floor shuddering under their feet. Kane ignored it, made for the door, pulling Antonia along. Close. So close.

  The doorframe cracked and splintered as it collapsed, the wall sagging inward. Kane stopped as the heat intensified, the smoke growing thicker.

  “Fuck!” he shouted.

  Antonia went completely limp, almost pulled Kane down as her body went to dead weight. The ceiling rained fire and slat work down, plaster cracked and crumbled. Kane looked around. Both hands were busy, one arm still around Antonia’s waist, the other holding her hand to keep her arm around his shoulders. He couldn’t let her drop.

  A blast of cold doused the wall in front of him, quenching the fire, the rubble at the door black and smoking. Another blast sent the back door flying into pieces. Kane turned, shielded Antonia with his body, wood and embers and ice smacking his back. He looked over his shoulder, saw Tabitha standing on the burning porch. She rushed in and put Antonia’s other arm over her shoulders, hefted her into a more upright position.

  “Walk,” Kane shouted! “Let’s go!”

  They dragged the Madam towards the door as the wall began to catch fire again, Tabitha’s spell wearing off. The house shuddered as the ceiling at the front of the kitchen gave out completely, joists, plaster and lathe falling to the floor. Kane and Tabitha moved Antonia’s limp form to the back porch and down the steps quickly. The porch collapsed in fire and ember. The air was cold compared to the hell heat that had been inside the house, the coolness refreshing on Kane’s lungs as he took a large breath. His throat caught, and he began to cough, the sound ragged and choked. He kept moving, his body racking and heaving. Tabitha began to cough as well, and Kane felt Antonia go heavier, looked to see Tabitha go to her knees. He tried to speak, but the coughing fit grew worse. Sandra and the other girls ran to them.

  “Kane,” Sandra said. “Let us take her! Lucy! Debra! Help them!”

  Hands grabbed Antonia, removed her from Kane’s shoulder. He dropped to his knees, the coughing making his lungs burn. Tabitha tossed him a small ball of ice. He picked it up, put it to his lips, sucked on it as the water ran off the ice and into his mouth. He let it slide down his throat, the wet welcome to the painful dryness. He saw Tabitha do the same, her coughing beginning to subside.

  “Leg,” Kane choked at her, his voice hoarse. He nodded at Antonia. “Can you…heal her leg?”

  Tabitha nodded, and Kane went to her and helped her to her feet. The yard was illuminated in orange and red from the burning house. Kane turned to it as the structure groaned a final time. It collapsed to the ground, the flames reaching high into the night.

  “Kane!”

  Kane looked over his shoulder at the sound of Tabitha’s voice. She’d gone straight to Antonia, a blue glow moving from her hand to the wound on the madam’s leg. Sandra held Antonia’s head in her lap while some of the other girls helped the one they called Alice as the girl went into hysterics. Two other girls held each other and wept openly while the shadows of the burning rubble danced around the yard.

  “Kane,” Tabitha cried again. “Help me!”

  Kane went to her. Tabitha pulled her hand away from Antonia’s leg, the gunshot wound gone, the mocha skin pale from the cold.

  “She won’t wake up,” Tabitha said. “She breathed in too much smoke.”

  “Can you heal her lungs?”

  Tabitha nodded, put her hands over Antonia’s chest, breathing deep as she muttered in Iceland
ic.

  “Draugalega Heilun.”

  Blue energy emanated from her open palms, ice crystals forming on Antonia’s blouse. Tabitha’s hands shook, her teeth gritting as she pushed harder. She pulled her hands away quickly, shaking her head.

  “I can’t,” she said. “I think I need to be able to see the injury to heal it. If I keep going, I might freeze her lungs.”

  “We need to get her to a hospital,” Sandra said. “She’s barely breathing.”

  Kane nodded.

  “Tabitha?”

  “I’m ahead of you, Kane,” she said, winking as she smiled. “Like always.”

  “Freeze!”

  Kane rounded on the voice, his eyes locked on the officer standing in the yard, the man’s gun aimed at Kane’s head. Kane felt his blood begin to boil, anger swelling in his chest.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” Kane said to the cop. “That doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you. Badly. Walk away.”

  The cop grinned, reached up with a free hand and pulled his police hat off. His head was clean-shaven, the orange from the house fire making his scalp look as if it were glowing slightly. Kane saw the Templar Cross tattoo on the Officer’s hand.

  “Fuck you,” he said. “You’re worth too much.” He glanced around Kane, nodded his head at Tabitha. “Her and the others, not so much.” He moved the gun, pointed it at the girls.

  Kane rushed him, was on him instantly. He grasped the officer’s wrist, twisted, felt the snap as bone broke. The cop shouted in pain and dropped the gun. The man staggered as Kane gripped him by the vest, lifted him, slammed him to the ground. He screamed, begged for mercy as Kane drove his fist into the screaming cop’s face, smashed nose and cheekbone.

  Kane felt lightheaded, dizzy. Euphoric. He knelt down, grabbed the cop by the vest again as he glanced at the badge. Dickins.

  “You wanna shoot them?” Kane barked, his eyes wide with fury, his face close to the remains of the cop’s face. “Huh? Group of unarmed girls and a Magician trying to heal someone? That it?”

  The cop’s head lolled, his eyes rolling as he tried to stay conscious. Kane shook him.