The 7th of Victorica

by Beau Schemery

  “No. We ain’t.” Sev shook his head.

  “Are y’all some o’Fervis’s men?” one of the others asked.

  “How d’ye know about Fervis?” Sev barked too quickly.

  “Settle down, fella.” The captain raised a hand. “We’re all on the same side here. Mr. Fervis has been fundin’ the Brotherhood o’Southern Gentlemen fer years. He’s the one that orchestrated the purchase o’Northern factories and industry. He hired the men that took care o’the Northern tinkerers and inventors. He’s the man that set this revolution in motion, and it’s ’cause he believes in our plight.” The man spat on the floor and leaned in close to Sev. “And I’ll tell you what, he knows that slavery’s the way t’go. It’s lucrative.” Sev almost gagged when the man’s rancid breath assaulted his nostrils.

  “Fervis ain’t around anymore, though.” Sev looked puzzled.

  “Oh, yah. That’s what we heard. That little shit-sack Seven did one of ’em in. Luckily there are those who are willing to pick up that man’s legacy, and he set up the Brothers t’continue on their own.”

  “Oh. Right,” Sev growled. “We need t’show those Northern jackasses and the prissy British who the real power here is.”

  The captain stood silently, studying Sev for what seemed like forever before he finally nodded. “Good enough, fellas.” He motioned to a scrawny, redheaded youth. “Corporal Andy will show y’all t’the barracks.” They exited the car together, and the occupants of the other cars joined them outside.

  The captain who interrogated Sev and Silas marched up to the last two cars, where there should be numerous dead bodies. A new wave of sweat broke out over Sev’s skin. The New Undertowners had been cramped and crowded together, avoiding those cars completely. The dark-haired captain stepped up and pulled open the door. He peered in for nearly a minute, then disappeared inside.

  Sev shot a glance at Silas, who stood with his lips in a severe line. The captain reappeared just after and made a motion to his men. The signal was dismissive and pleased. Sev breathed a sigh of relief that they had chosen to pose a lot of New Undertowners as the corpses they had dropped off in Pennsylvania. The captain barked some orders about having the bodies moved to the laboratory. He then marched off without another word.

  Sev sighed. Finally a stroke of luck. His compatriots would be taken to the most secure portion of the compound. Now he’d have to devise a way to join them. Teddy ran over with Rat and Tab to join Sev and Silas. “Hey, Sev,” he whispered. Sev nodded and pressed a finger to his lips. Corporal Andy shot Teddy an angry glance.

  “Yer niggers can sleep in the barn with the rest of ’em.” He hooked his thumb toward a large red building. Teddy and Tab instantly hung their heads, nodding. Something about the exchange set Sev’s blood boiling.

  “What did ye call them?” he growled as he lunged forward.

  Luckily Silas managed to pull him back before Corporal Andy turned. “Sev,” Silas hissed, his tone filled with warning.

  “What?” Andy looked at Sev with a totally clueless expression. “Oh. Y’all don’t really have niggers over there, do ya?” he asked, seeming like he finally understood Sev’s reaction. “We keep all our niggers t’gether. We got some house niggers, but they’s only the real good ones and we don’t know yers yet, so they got t’sleep in the barn.”

  “Calm down,” Silas ordered Sev under his breath.

  “Right,” Sev said after much internal debate. As much as he wanted to separate Corporal Andy from the few teeth the young man had left, he knew their mission was too important to ruin it now over an ugly word. “Teddy, Tab, ye heard the man. Off t’the barn with ye.” He tried to apologize to them with nothing but his eyes and hoped they understood. They nodded and jogged off to the barn. Rat moved to follow Tab, but Silas quickly snatched hold of his arm and stopped him.

  “Steady, Ratty,” he murmured.

  “Come on, fellers, the barracks are this way.” Corporal Andy strolled off, very unmilitarily, and Sev, Silas, and Rat followed along with a few more of the fair-skinned New Undertowners.

  27

  TEDDY RAN alongside his sister toward the barn looming before them. It reminded him of many nights he’d spent with the rest of his family in the days before they’d been torn apart. The warm smell of hay stirred mixed feelings of nostalgia and apprehension. He didn’t know how he and his sister would be received into this new society.

  “What an idiot,” Tab grumbled.

  “What?” Teddy asked.

  “That damn Seven.” She shook her head as she ran. “His temper is goin’ t’get us in trouble one o’these times.”

  “Si caught him before anything happened. They balance each other.” He glanced over as they reached the barn doors. “Not like you and Rat.”

  “What’s that supposed t’mean?” She faced him with her fists planted on her hips.

  Teddy grimaced. Tab’s stance was all too familiar to him, and it meant she was aching for a fight. “He tried to follow us. That would’ve raised suspicion as well.”

  She wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips. This expression wasn’t unfamiliar to him either. It meant he was right, and she didn’t want to admit it. Finally, she kicked dirt and said, “Yeah, ye’re right. He ought t’know better.” She tapped her foot in exasperation.

  Teddy reached out and touched his sister’s shoulder. “We need t’stay focused. Let’s go in and get a feel fer these folks. Maybe we can bring them in on the plan. This may be a blessin’ in disguise.”

  Tab nodded once and punched him on the shoulder. “Let’s go in there and see what we’re dealin’ with.”

  THE SIGHT meeting them inside the barn was bleaker than they’d expected. Wan faces and thin frames crowded together on every level. They huddled in scraps of clothing, thin and worn around gas lamps and candles. Teddy frowned at the obvious danger of so many flames in a wooden barn filled with hay. There were no cots or furnishings Teddy could see. Even the worst slave owners usually provided their slaves with the most basic amenities. The conditions in Griswoldville were the worst Teddy had ever seen.

  Teddy and Tab stared at all the gazes that had turned and immediately fixed on them. No one moved. They all just stared at one another. The people gathered in the barn soon turned away from the intruders, shooting apprehensive glances and conversing in hushed tones. A tiny ghost of a girl walked tentatively up to them. She looked like skin and bones in a plain cotton dress that had been repaired with numerous patches, giving her the look of a ragdoll.

  She offered Tab a delicate hand. “Mah name’s Fritter, on account o’I make pretty ’mazin’ fritters.”

  Tab shook her hand gently. “I’m Tab, and this is my brother, Teddy.”

  “Pleased t’make yer acquaintances,” Fritter said quietly. “I’m very sorry y’all have t’come here. It ain’t no picnic. And the soldiers ain’t soft with us.”

  “I’m sorry t’hear that, child.” Tab rubbed the girl’s shoulder.

  Fritter fixed them with a large, dark-eyed stare. “They’re terrible rough with some.” Her voice broke slightly.

  Tab looked at Teddy, and he knew exactly what she was thinking. She wanted to tear through these soldiers and teach them the value of human life no matter their skin color. “We ain’t here t’put up with that, Fritter,” Tab whispered.

  The young girl looked up at Tab, her eyes moist with tears of sudden hope. “Missus?”

  “Are any o’these poor creatures willing t’fight back against their white devils?”

  “Tab,” Teddy hissed, offended by the use of “white devils.”

  “Hush, Theodore.” Tab’s tone invited no argument, so Teddy hushed. “Are all their spirits broken?”

  Fritter turned and looked around, her shoulders raised defensively. When she finally met Teddy’s and Tab’s gazes once again, she nodded her head very slowly. “You need to talk to Mama Gert. T’other folks, they listen t’her. They’s a few that ain’t goin’ t’want t’rock the boat, for sure. But Ma
ma Gert might be able to get ’em over t’yer way o’thinkin’.”

  “Can you take us to her?” Tab asked. Fritter responded by grabbing Tab’s hand and leading her through the huddled masses. They picked their way back to a darkened corner of the barn, where they found a formless mass of threadbare blankets. Fritter tiptoed through the hay with a tentative finger extended and poked the blankets. A low grumble emanated from within, and the rags shifted and parted to reveal the face of a woman with hair as white as her face was black. Her pale eyes peered out of her thoughtful face. A gnarled, large-knuckled hand appeared, betraying the woman’s age, and she motioned Fritter to approach. The little girl leaned close to the old woman and spoke in rushed whispers as Mama Gert nodded, never taking her eyes off Teddy and Tab.

  “Thank you, child,” Mama Gert said, though it sounded more like thankee chile. “So,” she continued, still staring holes in Teddy and Tab. “You children have come into our quiet little community to shake things up, is that it?” Her accent was thick, and it reminded Teddy of the older slaves they’d encountered on their escape. She didn’t smile, and her tone was indecipherable.

  Teddy cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Ma’am.”

  “Not you.” She held up a wizened finger like the branch of an ancient tree.

  Teddy swallowed his words and said no more.

  “Her.” Mama Gert pointed at Tab.

  Tab looked at him with a worried expression, and he realized his eyes were wide with surprise. He shrugged and nodded.

  Tab squared her stance and launched into an explanation of their mission for Victorica. She told the old woman of their meeting with Sev and Silas, all the children they’d recruited, and their alliance with Lincoln and Grant. Teddy noticed Tab left out all the weirdness, the grimoire, Sev’s affinity for dark magic. “They’re here t’help us throw off our chains.”

  Mama Gert held up her hands and turned them. “I don’t see no chains, child. Do you?”

  “I ain’t playin’ word games, ma’am. And I’m sure ya know what I mean.”

  “But you ain’t playin’ true,” Mama Gert stated, accusation in her voice. “Your words are skirtin’ around somethin’. Y’all ain’t tellin’ me the whole story.” She clucked her tongue. “If you want us t’trust you, y’all got t’trust us.”

  Tab glanced once again at Teddy. He nodded again. He didn’t know how this old woman would react to wizards and blood-based magic, but they owed her and all the other slaves the truth.

  “Fine,” Tab growled. “It’s magic, I’m leavin’ out. Dark magic. Blood magic. Old gods and monsters. There was an evil wizard that was controllin’ their queen and now our new friend has that wizard’s book o’tricks, and he’s usin’ it to our benefit. I wouldn’t believe, but I seen it.”

  Mama Gert squinted her eyes and pursed her lips as she appeared to consider Tab’s words. She threaded her knobbled fingers together in front of her mouth. “Magic versus magic,” the old woman mumbled.

  Teddy and Tab constantly traded apprehensive glances, waiting for the old woman to speak to them. Yet she remained silent, eventually closing her eyes. Teddy worried that she may have fallen asleep. “So the white man swoops in and saves the dark savage,” she finally said, her eyes still closed. “Hallelujah.”

  “No, ma’am.” Tab’s teeth ground against each other. “These men’re here t’help us save ourselves. They respect us, and they want us to earn our freedom.”

  “You believe this,” Mama Gert stated.

  “I do.” Tab nodded once definitively.

  “So do I,” Teddy said, though something about the old woman terrified him.

  Mama Gert sniffed. “I s’pose that settles it.” She lifted herself from her throne of raggedy covers and limped forward. “Fritter, darlin’, spread the word t’the ladies. Tell them t’get the men in line. We’re goin’ t’fight back. We’re goin’ t’show these bastards we ain’t no one’s property.”

  “Ya can’t do it!” A man somewhere between Mama Gert’s and Teddy’s age shouted. “We ain’t strong enough. Ye’re goin’ t’get us all killed.”

  “Better to die fightin’ fer freedom than live as a slave,” Teddy snapped.

  “No it ain’t, boy,” he argued. “What gives you the right t’come in here and throw our lives int’chaos? All we want t’do is stay unnoticed. We want t’do our bit and live our lives.”

  “This ain’t livin’, son,” Mama Gert said. “We’re breathin’, but we certainly ain’t livin’. We’re just survivin’ and hopin’ our white masters let us keep breathin’.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” the man asked. “What’s wrong with makin’ the best of what we got?”

  “Don’t we deserve to live free and make our own way?” Teddy asked. “Are we really inferior to the white man?”

  “No!” Tab shouted.

  Mama Gert put a finger to her lips. “We ain’t free yet, girly. Keep it low.” Gert limped over to the man and gripped him with her seemingly arthritic hands, though the way he winced, she was deceptively strong. “Look, son. We ain’t people in the eyes o’these men. We’s just things, but we ain’t. We ain’t tools or farm equipment. We’re people with feelins’ and thoughts like any other. We owe it to our people t’join these young folks and not only free ourselves but free us all.”

  “It ain’t possible.” The man dropped to the ground.

  “Not with that attitude,” Tab sneered. “It’s got t’start somewhere, and I’m more than happy t’start it here.”

  “We’re helpin’ these young ’uns, and that’s the final word.” Mama Gert’s tone invited no debate.

  That didn’t seem to deter the man from trying. He stood with his fist clenched and started to argue before a general alarm was raised within the barn. Lights were quickly dowsed and everyone dropped, pretending they were deep in sleep. Teddy and Tab followed their lead, collapsing near Fritter. “What’s happenin’?” Teddy whispered.

  “It’s the boss,” Fritter hissed. “He’s a bad man. Just be as quiet as can be.”

  The door creaked open spilling cold night light into the barn’s interior. Teddy stole a quick glance. He shuddered at the barrel-chested silhouette standing in the doorway. “Where’s my little flower?” he growled, his voice heavy with drink. “Come out, come out wherever you are, love.”

  “I’s over here, Boss,” a tiny voice answered from within the darkness.

  “Well, come along, young lady.”

  “What do ya need, Boss?” Her voice trembled, and Teddy opened one eye just enough to see the man with a hand extended to a tiny female.

  His hand flashed out and grabbed her arm. “I need you, Daisy,” he growled. “I don’t need your smart lip.” He yanked her along behind him. Teddy moved to stand, but Fritter grabbed him with surprising strength. She shook her head very slowly. Despite his desire to help the girl named Daisy, he relaxed. The door of the barn slammed shut behind the boss and his flower. No one moved in the resulting pitch blackness, but Teddy could hear everyone breathing nervously.

  “This has got t’stop,” a voice rang out in the dark. Candles and lanterns flared to life. Mama Gert rose from her throne of rags, her gnarled hands clenched in fists at her side. The man who had originally tried to oppose her sat on the barn floor near her feet and slowly nodded in agreement.

  “Anybody else have a problem with helpin’ these English fellas take out these bastards?” she challenged those in the barn, and her gaze swept around, seeming to fix everyone gathered there with a serious stare. No one moved or spoke for many moments. Mama Gert grunted with satisfaction and nodded once, sternly. “Good. Y’all need t’fill us in on yer Englishmen’s plan.”

  28

  SEV PACED around the barracks while Silas and Rat watched him. “What?” He stopped and stared at them.

  “Ye need t’relax, mate,” Rat said.

  “We have t’get our people out o’their morgue.” Sev marched over and flopped onto one of the bunks. “What if
the Southerners try t’cut into our mates?”

  “Why are they collectin’ bodies t’begin with?” Rat asked.

  “It don’t matter.” Sev shook his head. “We have t’get them out.”

  “I agree.” Silas stood. “But how? They’ve got men patrolling outside. It can’t be done.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Sev growled. He walked up and peered out the window. No one was in the immediate vicinity. Without speaking he stalked to the rear of the barracks. He knelt and inspected the floorboards.

  “What’s he up to?” Silas asked Rat. Sev imagined Rat only shrugged because he heard no response. Sev then ran his fingers over the floorboards until he found a gap big enough to allow him purchase. He pulled up one board, then another. When he had an area large enough to accommodate a human, he chewed off a hangnail until it bled. Sev whispered his incantation as he allowed his blood to dribble onto the dirt beneath the floor. He sketched a basic plan, and the ground opened up into a subterranean chamber.

  “All right, you wait here.” Sev stood, turning his back on the hidden room. “I’m goin’ t’fetch our mates, and I’ll bring them back here. We’ll hide them down there.”

  “I’m comin’ with ye,” Rat stated.

  Sev shook his head. “No, Ratty. I’m goin’ t’need to move as quietly as I can. The less people out there movin’, the better. I’ll get them and bring them back.”

  “Fine,” Rat answered reluctantly. He folded his arms and collapsed onto his bunk.

  Silas snatched up Sev’s hand. “Be careful.”

  “I’m the portrait o’careful, love.” Sev offered Silas what he hoped to be a reassuring smile. “Nothin’ will go wrong.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Silas said, his expression belying his confidence in Sev’s claim.