We the People vol 2: Liberty or Death

It wasn’t much of a secret war council, by Thane’s estimation. For one thing, the motley crew gathered around the table didn’t look like heroic knights ready to ride out and protect the realm. And the battered and splinter-ridden long table was far from a polished round disk that King Arthur would have called his own. Instead of shining armor, her crew were dressed in period area clothing, none of which fit well or was of the greatest quality.

Yet, they were the only ones who could stop ESX. Thane sat with her chair several feet away from the table, as she didn’t have to eat. To her left was Bast, who’d been hovering near her since their encounter in the woods the previous night. She icily ignored him. Chui and Franklin were engaged in a spirited conversation concerning the Zimmyr rubbings. Faraday was lost in her own world, listening to the voices of the stars, or so she said. Creepy and Jimmy played a game that looked all the world like pick up sticks to Thane, while Montel stuffed his face with roast pig.

“Uh, if we could get started...” Thane said, but no one seemed to hear her. “HEY!”

Sharply, most of them turned to stare at her, the exception being Faraday.

“Okay, now that I have your attention, what the hell are we going to do? How are we going to win?”

“We win in this case by preserving as much of ‘real’ history as we can,” Montel said around a mouthful of swine. “Our reference says that John Stark led a force of some 1,000 men who broke the British at Walloomsac, New York.”

“Hold up, homes,” Jimmy said “I thought Stark won the Battle of Bennington?”

“He did, but the Battle of Bennington was actually fought ten miles away in Walloomsac.”

“Nice,” Thane said with a sigh. “Next you’ll tell me the Treaty of Versailles wasn’t signed in...”

She noticed that Chui was making ‘knife across the throat’ gestures, and then remembered that Franklin was supposed to sign that Treaty...in the future.

“Uh, anyway,” she continued, cheeks feeling hot “Stark can’t win this battle because he doesn’t have an army. ESX saw to that.”

“So?” Jimmy spread his hands out. “Just look at what we got going on here! Faraday can blast the British, or Germans or whatever, while Creepy sends bugs to eat all their food, and Thane can-”

“That’s not going to work,” Bast said calmly. “I admire your enthusiasm, James, but the history books say that John Stark won the Battle of Bennington. Not a bunch of people from the future with crazy powers.”

“How important is this battle, anyway?” Thane chewed her lower lip. “Couldn’t we just let this one go and concentrate on stopping ESX and getting home?”

“This battle was probably the most important one fought during the Revolution, Thane,” Bast said “when Stark defeated the British, it cost them Indian support and drew the French into the conflict. Without this victory, the colonists will stand alone.”

“Okay, so we need to get about 1,000 dudes to join an army,” Jimmy said “how hard can that be?”

“Are you kidding, man?” Chui shook his curly head. “Have you seen how desolate it is here in the past? Bennington is a big city—a BIG city—and there’s what, two thousand people living here, tops?”

“I can get him an army,” Thane said quietly.

“How?” Chui sneered. “No offense, Thane, but you don’t have the most winning personality. How are you going to convince-”

“Gee, thanks, Chui,” Thane said “oh, and by the way, no offense, but you don’t have the most aesthetically pleasing of faces.”

“What do you intend to do, Thane?” Bast asked.

“I’m going to talk to Stark. I need to tell him that he’ll have his army, and then I’m going to Manchester.”

“Manchester? Where the militia was slaughtered?” Franklin’s heavy jowls danced in his exasperation. “Whatever do you hope to find there?”

“An army.”

“But they’ll be...won’t they be all...” Chui swallowed “dead?”

“We need more than an army,” Bast said “we need a way to deal with ESX and keep it from interfering again.”

“I think Franklin and I have a solution to that,” Chui said.

“Oh?” Bast turned toward the cherubic young man and stared hard. “Explain.”

“Uh,” sweat stood out on Chui’s brow “well, as it turns out the Armonica is more than just a device for travel through time and space. It’s a sort of record player, an information decoder if you will. If we can find the right frequency, we can probably disrupt ESX’s control of Dr. Kass. It won’t get him out of her skull, but it might render him inert for awhile.”

“So you and Franklin had better find that frequency,” Bast said grimly. “Thane, go and do...what it is that you have to do.”

“And what IS that, exactly?” James cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, but am I the only one who’s bothered by this ‘queen of the dead’ act?”

Creepy punched him below the belt, and James ended up gasping on the floor.

“DON’T run your mouth,” she growled in a hoarse voice.

“Damn, I’d have thought Mr. Future Tense would’ve seen that coming,” Chui said. Thane didn’t stick around to hear the rest, but shoved her way into the bright morning light. John Stark’s Inn was about ten minutes by foot, and she used the time to cool down.

The truth was, James was right to be concerned. Raising the dead was one of the biggest affronts to decency she could fathom, but there seemed little choice.

She found the General scribbling away on missives, ensconced behind an ornately carved wooden desk. Thane had to grudgingly respect these people of the past; they put a great deal of care into the creation of even utilitarian objects. Stark didn’t have his wig on, and his sparse gray and black hair was dotted with beads of perspiration. Thane glanced at the tightly shuttered windows and then at Stark as she sat down opposite.

“Why not open a window if you’re hot?” she asked.

“And let ill humors in here?” Stark arched his bushy eyebrows, peeking from behind the crinkling parchment in his hand.

“Oh, right.” Thane rolled her eyes. “How could I forget the ill humors? I guess it’s because I’m just a hysterical woman.”

“Your tongue is sharp, my lady.” Stark set his scroll down and regarded her. “You are much like my daughter Eleanor, strong willed and stubborn.”

“Oh, Eleanor’s like, eighteen?”

“No, she’s actually only seen ten summers.” Stark smiled, taking much of the venom out of the jibe. “How can I assist you?”

“I think I can get you your army back, but they won’t be...the same.” Thane dug her fingernails into her palm.

“So you’re saying that you’ve obtained, what, Indian troops? I don’t understand.”

“Yeah, I was afraid you wouldn’t.” Thane’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, General, but I don’t know any other way to put this. I can, temporarily, make use of the men you lost in Manchester.”

“Make use?” Stark drew himself up straight, eyes cunning and suspicious as they narrowed on Thane. “Please, explain.”

“I mean I can make them get up and march to Bennington...or Walloomsac, or whatever. They won’t last more than a few days at best, but they’ll never get tired or scared or mutiny.”

“I see.” Stark was on a razor’s edge. Thane could see the conflict in his dark eyes. He wanted to tell her she was crazy, but he’d seen too much to discount her words. “Do you think this is the only way?”

“That’s the conclusion we came to, yeah.”

“The ‘We’ being more future folk, I am sure.” Stark sighed and folded his hands in his lap. “Forgive this poor, backward, foolish barbarian for his incredulity, but are you out of your mind?”

“I know it’s not ideal, but it’s all we got. Look, Stark, this is about more than your fledgling country. This is about the world, maybe even bigger than that.”

“Very well,” Stark said. He picked up a thick tome and thumbed through it. “Assemble this army and I will lead it.”

“Studying up on strategy?” Thane indicated the book in his hands.

“This? No, it’s a play by General Burgoyne, my opponent.”

“A play?” Thane couldn’t stifle a laugh. “He wrote a play?”

“Oh, indeed, quite a popular one.”

“Is it...good?”

“It’s amusing enough, if a trifle cliched. Many noble British men like to fancy themselves the second coming of Shakespeare.” Stark chuckled. “I had hoped to glean some insight as to his military philosophy from his work, but I’m afraid it really is rather vapid.”

“I’d better go,” Thane said, standing up and dusting off her pants. Convention be damned, she was tired of dragging a skirt through the dirt and horse apples. “I’ll get you that army General. I promise.”

“I believe you, my lady.” Stark rose and kissed her hand again, making her wonder if Faraday was right. Thane awkwardly excused herself and soon stood on the rutted thoroughfare outside the Inn. The August sun beat down mercilessly on the road, and judging from the way the populace stuck to the shadows and continually dabbed their foreheads it must have been miserable.

Thane didn’t have so suffer as they did. She also didn’t have to worry about getting sprains in her legs, growing fatigued, or becoming dehydrated.

She could literally run all day and night.

Though she was moving cross country to avoid any British patrols on the roads, she still made excellent time. While the road had to divert around rocky cliffs and rushing streams, Thane could just go over or right through the hazards.

Once, she startled a black bear as it swatted fish from a shimmering stream. Their eyes locked for a moment, and then she was past, rushing through a dense thicket. America was so wild, so unspoiled and raw. In the future, the same area she ran through was probably a parking lot, or a yogurt stand. All this natural beauty, lost, a relic of the past as much as slavery.

She recalled the women imprisoned in North Dakota and gritted her teeth. Maybe not such a relic, after all…

Thane ran on, through heavy rain and blazing sun, until at last she stood overlooking the sundered, blood-soaked turf of the Manchester slaughter.

I’ve never done so many at once, she thought. Then again, mass didn’t seem to matter in St. Louis when I literally jumped the shark...

Thane extended those senses that weren’t covered by the five basics, relying on her connection to both life and death to guide her. She swept her hands side to side as she walked, pouring her own energy out in silent, invisible waves. Everywhere she passed, a body stirred, shattered limbs propping up perforated torsos. Empty, gory sockets sought for and spotted fallen weapons, while burned and twisted hands gripped them.

Thane reached the middle of the graveyard, weak and weary. She gritted her teeth and pressed on. It was eating away at her, maybe even killing her. There was no stopping. Stopping meant the end of everything.

That’s NOT gonna happen, she swore silently.

Thane fell to her knees, then pitched forward onto her face. She pushed herself up to all fours, gasping for air she knew she did not need. Nearby, a pool of muddy water reflected the silvery moonlight. She dragged herself to it, terrified of what she would see reflected back at her.

“Oh, no...” she moaned.

Her skin was thin and stretched tight over her skull, most of her hair thinned out and fled. It was as if she’d aged a hundred years in just a few minutes. With effort, she managed to pull herself to her feet using a capsized wagon for leverage. She looked back at the battlefield, and nodded grimly. Her plan worked. Not all of the corpses had been intact enough for even a half-life, but there were what she thought was close to a thousand of them. They were forming up ranks, awaiting a commander to lead them.

Awaiting her.

It was an ugly moment of truth. Thane did not falter. She simply found what she needed amongst the dismembered dead. It took the contents of four skulls to return her to a normal appearance, and she still felt drained. With a start, she realized the corpses were draining her like a battery. It was slow, but eventually she would grow aged and decrepit again.

Her army was ready. Thane seized the hilt of a cavalry saber and whipped it free of its sheath. She then donned an officer’s plumed hat and stood before the patient undead.

“Soldiers!” She really didn’t know what else to call them, since they weren’t really Americans yet. “General John Stark awaits you in Bennington! We march to war!”

Ragged groans escaped their throats, and their arms jerked upward bearing muskets, swords, and rifles. It took her a moment to realize they were cheering. She turned away from them and started heading North. With a shuffling, uneven gait, the undead legion followed her.

Man, I hope we don’t run into anyone on the road to Bennington, Thane thought. Good lord, we’re almost GUARANTEED to run into someone. I should have thought this through, gotten them some masks or something.

She hoped they could pass for the walking wounded, because there was no stopping now. Already she could feel weakness in her limbs, and there were many miles to go to Bennington.