- Home
- The Rise of Magicks
Page 62
Page 62
“After Maine, I’ll be back.”
“That’s what you said after New Mexico.”
“And I came back.” Annoyance bit through the words. “We’re driving them down, Tonia. But the way they’re combining forces, that’s got to be a concern. We’re seeing more and more DUs fighting alongside PWs. More Raiders grouping together.”
“I can’t argue with that. There’s not even a pretext with the PWs now. It’s not magicks they want to destroy. It’s us. Did Chuck tell you about their latest dispatches, what they’re sending out?”
“Yeah. How the Uncannys who fight with them have been purified and redeemed or whatever. Using their powers for the holy war, blah blah. White’s a lunatic, and he’s an idiot if he actually believes the DUs won’t wipe him and the rest of the PWs out the minute they’re not useful.”
“A lunatic, an idiot, but he’s still managed to keep his cult going for more than two decades.”
“Fear and hate can work.” He drank more beer, brooded over the colored lights strung around the garden.
“I know you miss her. We all miss her.”
“It’s not about—” The hell it wasn’t, he admitted. “She said a couple weeks. It’s been nearly five. I shouldn’t have let her go alone.”
“Let, my ass. You don’t let her any more than I let you go to fricking Maine. You’re worried, I get it. Jesus, Duncan, so am I. So’s everyone. She’s been the prime target since before she was born.”
“Then stop making excuses.”
“Not excuses. Reasons. I think living with being the prime target, with being The freaking One takes a toll. Like losing your oldest friend five feet away from where you’re standing takes a toll. Like training recruits knowing when they’re ready to fight not all of them will come back takes a toll.”
“Sounds like somebody else needs some downtime.”
Tonia heaved out a breath. “Maybe.”
A fiddle joined the guitar, the harmonica. A few people started to sing a song he’d heard a few times about life on the farm.
Maybe Fallon had gone back to the farm. He could go, look. The hell with that, he decided, and chugged beer. He wasn’t a dog who’d belly crawl back to the boot that kicked him.
She hadn’t just left, she’d blocked him so he couldn’t even touch her mind, not even in dreams.
The hell with it.
“How about you come with me to Maine,” he suggested, “then when we drive those bastards into the sea, I’ll come back with you. I’ll take some of the recruits off your hands.”
“I could use the help, Duncan, no lie.”
Hannah came over, plopped down on the grass beside them. “Here you are. I’ve been going over clinic plans with Rachel and Mom, and I am seriously done. Where’s my beer?”
Duncan handed her what was left of his. She sighed at the couple of swallows. “It’ll do. Mom says she’s making French toast for breakfast—with pig bacon.”
While Hannah couldn’t read minds, she knew her siblings. “Oh, come on. You just got back.” She swallowed the last of the beer, poked the bottle at Tonia. “You, too?”
“We made a pact. I go shoot a few arrows with Duncan, and he comes back to take some of the training hours off my plate.”
Hannah let out a sigh. “A deal’s a deal. It’s fairly quiet at the clinic. Need a doctor in Maine?”
“You’re volunteering to take some of the heat off us,” Tonia decided.
“The three of us go, the three of us come back—and stay,” Hannah added, “for at least a full week. Mom’ll take it better if it’s all of us.”
“Best sister ever.” Duncan wrapped an arm around Hannah’s shoulders.
“Hey!”
He grinned at Tonia, laid his arm over hers. “Plural.”
The vocalists shouted out: “Thank God I’m a Country Boy.” Eddie added a “Yee-haw.”
And Garrett, a shifter once nearly hanged by the PWs, came on the run.
Shifted from cougar to teen. “Trouble’s coming. I found Will.” His breath came fast as all three surged to their feet. “He’s mobilizing. He said Eddie was here, and I should—”
“What’s the trouble?” Duncan interrupted.
“PWs, Raiders, and DUs with them. Maybe thirty miles beyond the checkpoint, moving this way.”
“I’ll get Jonah, Rachel, Mom.” Hannah ran from the gardens.
“How many?” Duncan demanded.
“It looked like hundreds. We were just out for a run. We went past the checkpoint. I know that’s against the rules, but—”
“We’ll worry about that later. Thirty miles?” Tonia pressed.
“About. They’re not moving fast, and we did once we spotted them. I told the others to peel off, alert the outlying farms. But the thing is, I think White’s with them. I saw him once when they had me. I think I saw him with them.”
As his blood heated—he’d wanted to take on White all of his life—Duncan shot a look at Tonia. Understanding, she gave him a nod.
“Tell Eddie, Garrett. He’ll get things started on this end of town. We need to scout past the other checkpoints, see if they’re coming in from other directions.”
“I’ll alert the barracks, and pull in who we need on the way.” Duncan swung onto his bike, something else that came out in spring. “Get the Swifts, let Fred know.” He revved the engine. “You take Flynn. I’ll take Mallick in Arlington.”
“Fast,” Tonia said. “Even if they’re moving slow, we don’t have much time.”
She flashed as Duncan roared away.
They’d trained for this, he thought as he all but flew out of New Hope. Every man, woman, and child had their emergency posts and duties. He alerted them along the way, eating up what he knew would be precious time skidding to a halt to call out the alert to the man tossing a ball to his dog, to the old woman rocking on her porch.
He caught some luck at the barracks when he saw Colin and Travis entertaining themselves by putting some troops through night maneuvers.
“Enemy forces spotted heading in from the south—less than thirty miles beyond the checkpoint. Indeterminate numbers, possibly hundreds. White may be with them.”
“Well, hot damn.” Colin managed to bring his two hands together in a clap. “All right, boys and girls, suit the fuck up.”
“We’ve got this,” Travis said. “Get Dad.”
“Next stop.”
He spun the bike in a circle, streaked toward the Swift house. Leaping off, he didn’t bother to knock, but shoved open the door.
Simon and Lana broke off what looked like a pretty serious kiss.
“Sorry. Enemy forces moving in from the south.” Even as he continued with the details he had, Simon rushed to the pantry, came out with a rifle, ammo. Lana darted into the mudroom for jackets.
“Ethan’s with the horses. Simon will need one, so he’ll tell him.” Lana shoved her arms through the sleeves of her jacket, voice steady, eyes showing not a hint of the fear. “Ethan can alert Fred and the kids, I’ll get Mallick. Duncan, you get Poe. Simon.”
She gripped his hand, then let it go and flashed.
Simon clipped a holster onto his belt, met Duncan’s eyes. “Go.”
* * *
Ten miles beyond the checkpoint, the enemy halted. Silver hair streaming, eyes ablaze with fervor, Jeremiah White climbed onto the roof of a truck. As planned, one of the DUs at his side illuminated him so all could see. His voice carried, full-throated, through the soft spring night.
“Fellow warriors, friends, patriots, tonight, at long last, we will eradicate the sanctuary of the demons that defile our world. Tonight, at long last, our blessed crusade to purify the land, the seas, the very air we breathe ends. We mark this night as God’s wrath, delivered through his true children. We will strike them down, rip out this beating heart of their evil. Tonight, in our righteous fury, we avenge our fallen brothers. Arlington. Washington. New York. Philadelphia.”
Others in the crowd shouted out names of other battles, other places as White spread his arms, lifted his face to the starstruck heavens.
“And our brothers will cry out from their graves, will rip the air with their gratitude as we wipe these demons and all who truck with them from the face of this earth.”
“Burn the witches!”
As that cry rang out, over and over, the Dark Uncanny who stood with them remained stone-faced. No sense of irony leaked through.
“Burn the witches,” White echoed. “Hang the demons. Strike them down as they flee. Root out the false prophet they worship as The One, for she will face our judgment. And with her death, as promised, as decreed, by her own fiery sword, we take back the world, we ride the glory.
“Tonight, New Hope burns!”
He drew his own sword, lifted it high, then sliced it down to point toward the glimmer of lights in the distance.
They spread out, squads to attack outlying farms, homes, families, others to circle or flash to the west and east to strike from those directions. Another handful to surge to the checkpoint, take down security as the main forces followed.
Still agile and fit, White boosted down from the roof of the truck, nodded to the pair of burly DUs who served as his personal guard.
“Let them burn, let them bleed, let them litter the ground of this cursed place with bodies. Through the flames and the blood we’ll take her at last. When I strike the bitch down, we’ll have all.”
Troops swept by in a flood, eager for that blood. Others, according to plan, pushed in from the north, with advance teams striking at the checkpoints.
Seasoned, experienced warriors, White thought, some of whom had been with him since the earliest days. Raiders who killed and maimed for the thrill of it. Dark Uncannys who sought the end of Fallon Swift as much as the most fanatical Purity Warrior.