Midnight Riders

by Pete Clark

  “Nice use of rhetoric,” added Dawes.

  And, as the old leaders of this young nation began to prepare for war against the most powerful nation in the world, Patrick Henry could be heard to say, “My speech is still better.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN:

  The Midnight Ride

  Spring 1775

  “Gather round people and you shall hear

  About a bunch of bullshit, that is clear.

  Of riders and horses and monsters too;

  Your parents lied; they can still get you.

  Hardly anyone who was there is alive

  To dispel the rumors, uncover the lies,

  But there was more than one man who rode that day

  And more than just Redcoats who got in their way.”

  Sybil Ludington was a quiet girl. That was, of course, if you were stone deaf. She was newly turned 16 years old and the daughter of a military general. She, like all in her family, was a masterful horseman, or perhaps one would say horsewoman; Sybil would probably prefer to be grouped with everyone, so horseman it is. Her father, Colonel Henry Ludington, had the privilege of hosting a secret meeting of military minds. It was clear that war was imminent and steps were being taken to secure supplies and arrange a warning system. For several months, there had been a game of cat and mouse with the munitions supplies of the colonies. The British kept launching small bands of troops who attempted to sneak quietly into areas where colonial supplies were kept and either steal or destroy them. The patriots, meanwhile, would attempt to thwart these raids by moving the supplies. No shots or exchanges of significance occurred during these so called “powder wars,” but with tension on a steady incline and patriot supplies being massed in larger amounts and fewer areas, a breaking point was on the horizon.

  Several of the major generals of the impending revolution were on hand. George Washington, Henry “Light Horse Harry” Lee, Horatio Gates, Henry Knox, and Nathaniel Greene were among them. There was also a Frenchman: The Marquis de Lafayette. He was here as a potential military adviser and was the first step toward an alliance with the French. Several less prominent, but equally valuable, leaders and future generals were there as well. Benedict Arnold and “Mad” Anthony Wayne were standouts. Wayne was once known as “Totally Calm” Anthony Wayne, but he suffered a powerful attack from a demon in his younger years that provided him with his current demeanor. Daniel Morgan and Francis “The Swamp Fox” Marion were requested to attend, but at this time, they were heard to be tending to other significant matters. Israel Putnam was an experienced officer and also an attendee.

  The discussion was cold and professional. Sybil decided that she would listen in; she wasn’t a spy, that was certain. However, she did have an adventurous streak and a desire to help this new cause that had stirred her spirit. The generals talked of many things; the tactical discussion of which troops would be where and who was to command them and how they would communicate was somewhat lost on her. Still, the major point was clear. They expected a war. Not a skirmish, not a battle, but a full-blown war to change the tides of history.

  Sybil was particularly interested in one bit of information. The colonists had gathered intelligence that the British had news of the rather large gathering of gunpowder and weaponry that the colonists had decided to store at Concord. The colonists had taken the precaution of moving most of these stores to other locations. However, a British invasion of sorts was still expected to take place. But when? Further news, acquired by clever spies who themselves were interrogated by Brits on the streets of Boston, were able to discern that the British also wanted to arrest a number of American “rabble rousers.” The most notable were Samuel Adams and a wealthy gentleman by the name of John Hancock.

  The colonists decided that it was indeed time for war. However, the massing of an army would incite the British, which could hurt local support. They needed to be reactionary and this attempted seizure of weapons could prove to be the opportunity.

  Massachusetts was known for its minutemen and they would be the ones to do the fighting if it came to it. The plan was orchestrated and dispatched to those who needed to know and in the precise way that the military leaders wanted it to be released. Sybil saw this as an opportunity to take part in what she saw as a noble uprising.

  ****

  Prescott returned to Boston. His wounds from his battle with de Lavoir were mostly healed and, predictably, he once again sat in a tavern. This particular public house was called The Wayward Platypus. He was accompanied by Revere and Dawes; in his hand was a letter from Daniel Boone that detailed the discoveries he and his two compatriots had made.

  “It says here that they are on their way to Roanoke Island itself. That is where this Mahrak guy is telling them they need to go to uncover the trail to find a descendant of the colony of Roanoke.” He paused. “Christ, if they can’t find a descendant, and they probably can’t, then there isn’t any way to stop the rippers shy of just killing them all as they appear. And once this war kicks off, that is going to be impossible.”

  Dawes was poking at his stew. Why did he always order stew? He didn’t even like stew. “What do you plan to do about de Lavoir?”

  At the sound of the name, Prescott grew stony. “I don’t know. I think Adams was bullshitting me when he said he knew him. I can’t think of a way to track him down.”

  “The good news is he’ll probably try to assassinate you again. That could give you a chance to get him.” Revere smiled hopefully.

  “I guess. It was pretty strange the way he was controlling those wraiths. I don’t get that. And how have I not seen a vampire before?”

  “I can tell you.” Two men entered followed by a teenage girl. The older of the two men was wrapped in a cloak. The weather was fine today, so the cloak was an obvious attempt to hide who he was.

  “I don’t have patience for secrets,” said Prescott. “Who are you and what do you mean?”

  “You are in luck,” said the older gentlemen as he sat down at their table. “I am here to reveal secrets not propagate them.” He pulled down his hood to reveal himself as Benjamin Franklin. At this point, Franklin was practically a wanted man, so he was wise to try and keep hidden.

  “If you’re willing to expose yourself to see us, then it must be for a good reason,” Prescott said.

  “It is indeed. This is Colonel Ludington and his daughter-”

  “Sybil,” she added.

  “What is she doing here?” Dawes asked.

  “I didn’t have anyone to watch her and I don’t like leaving her alone.” Her father looked playfully at her. “She has a tendency to get into trouble.”

  “Great. Nice to meet you. Get to it.” Prescott had no sympathy for families or kids or emotions. He was looking to solve the ripper problem and kill de Lavoir; everything else was a waste of his time.

  “I know why you haven’t seen vampires before, I have a theory as to why the wraiths were listening to that one you fought, and I have an important duty for all three of you.”

  “Exciting,” said Revere. He was enjoying his stew immensely. Why was that dude always so happy when it came to stew?

  “Nice cliffhanger,” Prescott said. “Tell us.”

  “First off, I want you to promise to do a service to your country. We need you and men like you. The cause for liberty is one that cannot be overlooked.”

  “No,” said Prescott. “Liberty is fine and good, but I have other things to attend to, as you know.”

  “Let’s try this then. Swear that you will do what your country needs of you and I will tell you what I know.”

  Franklin leaned back satisfied. This was a mistake. Prescott was on his feet and his hands were around Franklin’s neck before anyone knew what was happening. The Colonel rose to assist but found himself staring into the barrel of one of Prescott’s pistols.

  “I’ve played this game before with Adams. Tell me what you know. I don’t care how famous you are; your last invention will be the brain rug.”
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br />   Sybil thought that all of this was very exciting. Still, she did not want to see either her father or Franklin killed; she was also pretty sure that this guy was about one wrong comment away from a murder spree. “Brain rug,” she interjected. “Nice.”

  Prescott glanced over at her. He wasn’t exactly keen to murder people in front of a kid. But he figured he could manage it.

  “What’s your deal anyway?”

  “I’m a rider,” she said.

  “Aren’t we all,” Prescott said. “Listen, Franklin. You tell me what you want us to do. Maybe I’ll do it and maybe I won’t. Either way, you’re going to spill the news or you’ve gone through your last doorway.”

  “Your terms, although far from gentlemanly, will have to suffice. Now, if you could cease strangling me, I will continue.”

  Prescott let go of Franklin’s neck, holstered his pistol, and sat down. Franklin began to recount first his tale of what happened in France. He explained how he learned about the vampires not being rippers and how they were, he thought anyway, all French. Clearly frazzled, Franklin started to reveal these secrets prior to airing his request. This was good, though, as it kept Prescott both interested in the story and less interested in killing them all. When he finished his information on vampires, Frankling paused and met Prescott’s eyes.

  “Interesting,” said Prescott. “So de Lavoir isn’t a ripper, but somehow he can control them.”

  “I was thinking about that as well. Vampires are smart and similar to rippers, but they aren’t beholden to anger and war for their existence. This provides the rippers with a group of organizers. Vampires can coordinate and, for the most part, lead. In essence, I think that the rippers and vampires have worked out a deal. They’re on the same team.”

  “I hate vampires,” Revere said. He looked over at Sybil. “Do you hate vampires?” She shrugged.

  “That isn’t going to make things any easier. One advantage we’ve always had over the rippers is the fact that they don’t plan and they are disorganized.”

  “We need to eliminate these vampires.” Dawes just liked to try and contribute.

  “So, what is this favor our country needs from us?” Revere asked. Prescott glared at him.

  “First,” Franklin began, “I need you to swear to secrecy. Whether you accept the duty or not, you must do this. Do you swear to keep these proceedings secret?” He paused. All three stared back with a slightly annoyed expression. “Good enough. Sometime in the next few days, we believe a large British force is going to attempt to steal a cache of munitions they believe is stored in Concord. They will also attempt to arrest a number of important patriots. As such, we have put a warning system in place. And we need you three to be the lynch pins to this system.”

  “Why us?” Dawes asked.

  “You are all somewhat connected both to the cause and each other. We believe you can be trusted and rumor has it that you are all among the greatest horsemen that our country has to offer.”

  “All true. So true,” Dawes said with visible pride.

  “Explain yourself,” Prescott insisted.

  This was a tough guy to like, Franklin thought. Still, he did seem to be the perfect guy for the job. “The British will either be attacking by land or by sea. We need men on watch. Brave men who know the area, are key players of the revolution, and who are also expert riders. You three fit the bill. There will be a watch. When the British begin their advance, we will see from where they come. Lanterns will be placed in the high tower of the Old North Church. One lantern shall be lit if they come by land and two if by sea. Revere, we expect this of you.”

  Revere nodded. He seemed already to be relishing what he considered an honor. Franklin continued.

  “Your work will have just begun. Once word is out, once we know that the British are coming, it will be up to all of you to ride hard through the streets and towns. You must rouse the minutemen and warn the high profile targets that they must escape. Your importance in this endeavor cannot be overstated. Your success means our forces will be prepared. The British will not expect this and a major victory could be ours, which will drive up morale and show the colonies that we can win. This would be huge for our chances to win this coming war. If you fail, our forces will not be ready. We could be routed, our leaders captured, and our supplies destroyed. The war could end before it truly begins.”

  “That could be a blessing,” said Prescott.

  “Really?” Franklin eyed him. “You want thousands of angry men and women under the boot heels of an oppressive government? What will that do to anger? What will that do to your rippers? War and successful victory are the only path to true peace. You know this is true. Don’t deny it for pride.” The guy could sling words together; you had to give him that. “The only thing that pride can buy is loneliness. The prideful man stares fate in the face and laughs when he should be crying. The surest path to failure is marked by the signs of pride. One whose pride is his-”

  “Yeah, I get it,” said Prescott. “If you stop with all the corny lines, I guess I’ll help you. But what else is there? You’re leaving something out.”

  “I have talked to a number of ripper experts, if you will. They are pretty sure that the outbreak of war will bring the Wendigo.”

  For the second time in recent years, Revere opted to shit his pants in public.

  ****

  Roanoke looked surprisingly tidy for a ghost town. Marion expected a tumbleweed to blow past, but that would have been difficult as there were no tumbleweeds to speak of in North Carolina. They had spent the last several months trying to figure out if there was a chance that any descendants of Roanoke had survived. Mahrak seemed to think there was and, indeed, some of their research seemed to encourage such thinking. In fact, the essential track of their discoveries could be best summed up in:

  The Tale of Hannah Dare

  Virginia Dare, having been the unwilling participant of the Croatan spell, was also the beneficiary of several side effects. As her blood was used, it magically became infused with special properties. She did not know this and, although she was clearly possessed of reflexes and strength that were beyond that of humans, she was very small and people simply did not notice.

  Virginia lived at Roanoke. Sometime after the ship sailed off in search of supplies, the colonists realized that they were not going to make it. After the first year and a half passed, they did not think the ship was ever to return and they were on their own. To complicate matters they were now in a virtual war with the Croatan and strange supernatural creatures had begun to appear. Only a few, but it was enough to carry many of Virginia’s fellow colonists off into the shadows, never to return. Clearly marked for destruction, they had to do something.

  There was another nearby Indian tribe with whom they were still allied. This tribe had troubles of its own with disease and starvation; however, they would not turn aside those in need. When there were only a few dozen colonists remaining, they decided to pack up and dismantle their village and bring anything of value with them as they moved in with the Chowanoke Indians. For a few months, Virginia and her fellows lived with this tribe, but the Chowanoke were growing weaker and other tribes were aware of this. In time, they were attacked and the majority of the Chowanoke were slaughtered, along with the colonists. A few remained and they, Virginia among them, were brought as slaves to live with a new tribe: the Mangoaks.

  As time passed, a few more of the original settlers from Roanoke died. Virginia, though, grew up to become quite beautiful. She had also gained respect due to her impressive strength and speed, which the Mangoaks respected. In fact, one day while still a slave, she was attacked by two of the Mangoaks warriors. They attacked her in plain sight as she was only a slave and it was their right to take her if they wished. She beat back their attacks with such ferocity that she impressed the tribe’s leaders; they were so beholden with her skills that they freed her from slavery and allowed her to kill both of her attackers.

  Virginia so
on assimilated into the tribe. She grew to be one of its leaders and a large part of her English heritage was lost. She seemed to be the last member of the Roanoke colony alive, but she considered herself one among the Mangoaks. She eventually married and had two children. Time pushed forward, as it always does, and her children also grew up. However, disease was powerful and, as they married and had children and their children had children, it so happened that only one survived the long hardships of life.

  Although most of her English heritage had died, not all had perished. Virginia liked to give her children English names and she also made sure they could speak English. This tradition was passed down. Years later, when the Mangoaks needed a person to communicate with the growing number of white settlers, it was Steven Dare who was the go between. He was the only child of deceased parents; he too possessed speed and strength beyond that of his fellow men as the blood of the Croatoan spell continued to pump in his veins. Steven Dare became so enraptured with the English colonists through his visits that he started leaving the Mangoaks behind and gradually became one with the colonists. He already looked a bit like them and spoke their language. No one really bothered to wonder how he learned such fine English; they all just assumed he learned it from visiting colonists.

  Steven Dare fell in love with an English woman named Elizabeth and they married and had a single child. The child, Abigail, was of a fair complexion. She eventually grew to have a son and that son finally had a daughter: Hannah. Hannah was now in New York. Her father was killed in the French and Indian War when she was just a baby and her mother had died of smallpox just two years earlier. Now, Hannah lived in Saratoga, although her exact whereabouts were unknown. What was known was that a young orphaned woman in her early twenties, known for her hunting skills, could be bested by no man in any race. Such was her history and her legend. Hannah, of course, knew nothing of the Croatoan spell or of the reason why she possessed such physical prowess. At least, that is what was assumed.