Gaslit Armageddon Read online

  Gaslit Armageddon

  Jason Gilbert

  Forgotten Drawer Publishing

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Jason Gilbert

  Clockworks of War is dedicated to my family, especially my daughter who keeps me on my toes and makes her grouch of a father smile. And to my brother, Collin, who taught me that there’s nothing wrong with laughing at my own foolishness and was a far better man than me. May God rest his soul.

  Chapter One

  The sky was orange, streaked with purple hues from the clouds as the sun rose in the distance, peeking out over the trees. It lifted slowly against the night, signaling the early hours of the morning. The marsh teemed with the sounds of crickets chirruping, the scurrying of fiddler crabs over the brush and driftwood, and the pelicans flying up the intercostal waterway which separated the island from the mainland. The salty air was refreshing, damp and cleansing. The fishermen in the longboat sat patiently, their poles in the water, each quiet and focused on the morning’s catch. Another pair stood in their boat closer to shore, each holding a spear as they watched the water intently. Their sweat glistened in the low sunlight, giving their mocha skin a deep, bronze sheen. One of them tensed, speared the water quickly, and pulled out a large, skewered flounder. The other paid him no attention, keeping his eyes on the water for his own catch.

  Kane Shepherd took a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs before releasing it in a loud sigh. He’d gotten into the habit of waking early and taking a walk in vain attempts to clear his head and relax. The air and the sounds gave him a kind of peace that New Chicago had never offered him, though the events from a month ago still weighed on him heavily.

  He’d lost friends—good friends—to betrayal and death. All in the name of revenge and money.

  He and Tabitha Drake had fled South after the battle at the shipyard. It’d been Alastair Jones’s idea to run in an attempt to fall back and regroup. Rally the troops. He’d been part of the Revolution against the Oligarchs that controlled, in essence, the entire nation from their ivory towers in New Chicago. The plan had been to flee, join with the Revolution army, and march back in.

  The Oligarchs had other plans for them thanks to leaked intelligence. The plan almost failed, and it’d cost Kane’s friends, Jones and Marta, their lives.

  “You get up so early.”

  Tabitha’s voice seemed to come from all directions and rest in his right ear. Kane turned and saw her walking toward him, her long blonde locks cascading over her shoulders and held out of her face by the goggles she wore on her head. She’d shed the airship captain’s jacket she typically wore, but still wore the pants and buttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. The South was considerably warmer and more humid than the North. Kane had also done away with his old trench coat. It’d been tattered and covered in blood anyway, but the heat made anything more than a shirt and pants unbearable.

  “It’s my quiet time,” Kane said, giving a shrug. She laughed and put her arms around him. He returned the favor, then looked back out over the waterway at the sound of a shout from one of the fishermen as he speared another catch.

  Tabitha reached up and kissed his cheek gently. He smiled and looked back down at her. “What was that for?”

  “I figured I’d get one in before we had to run. Again.”

  Kane chuckled and shook his head.

  “No shit. Any word from the General?”

  “Nope,” Tabitha said, pulling away and stretching her arms high. “The scouts went out an hour ago and haven’t reported in yet. They’re due in soon.” She clapped her hands rapidly in sudden excitement. “Ooooh! And Farnsworth made pancakes! Oh, Kane, they are so yummy!”

  Kane raised an eyebrow at her. She was beautiful, willowy with large blue eyes that sometimes stopped Kane in his tracks when he looked into them.

  And crazy. At least Kane had once thought so. Tabitha had her moments when she would come off as not quite right. Jones had once called her “Batshit.”

  “It’s a technical term, right?” Kane’d said to him.

  Jones had just grunted and puffed on his cigarette.

  Tabitha was prone to random outbursts of childlike behavior, and tended to cry whenever something upset her. She also spoke to inanimate objects from time to time.

  “It’s been a while since I had pancakes,” Kane said. “Maybe I’ll make my way back.”

  Tabitha clapped her hands again. “Yay!” She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the lips. She pulled back and smiled at him again. “Maybe Farnsworth will make some at the next camp? I’ll make him promise. Until then, we need to run.”

  Her eyes went solid white. She was having one of her premonitions.

  “Oh shit,” Kane said, letting her go. He turned to the fishermen and shouted at them to get down, to run. Gunfire rang out from the trees, shattering the morning. Pelicans and seagulls took flight at the noise as fishermen fell in a hailstorm of angry lead that shattered their bodies. Kane grabbed Tabitha by the arm and pulled her toward the woods and away from the sound of guns being reloaded. A low roar followed the shouts of men looking for their targets. Kane let his hearing spread out. It was his passive ability.

  And the only ability he had that seemed to work reliably these days.

  Reload. Shoot to kill.

  No. Take the Magicians alive. Aim for their legs.

  A battle cruiser loomed overhead, seeming to appear out of the clouds, the sound of the airship turbines drowning out the shouting men and shrieking birds. It was a model not much different from the Jezebel, the body long and wide with no gasbag, using turbines to move the air through. Lighter than air vessel. But it was far larger, and had more firepower. Kane looked at the battle cruiser, tried to focus his energy into the spell.

  “Aspectu aethereo!” Ethereal Sight!

  The world around him shimmered, the color fading in and out. “C’mon…c’mon,” Kane muttered. He’d been casting without an amulet ever since he’d broken his while fighting the Mors Rebrum, but the spells were touch and go, the magic unreliable. He had nothing to focus on.

  The world thrummed in his ears as his vision went to black and white. He looked up at the airship and watched it go to color as he focused. He saw someone at the port side, a large telescope in their hands, the thing aimed down at the ground.

  Damn. They were searching. They knew.

  He shook his head, let the spell die, and turned to Tabitha. Her eyes had returned to their brilliant blue.

  “Kane, the camp,” she said. “We need to warn them!”

  “Pretty sure they heard the commotion. Let’s go!”

  Tabitha tensed suddenly, squeezed his hand. “Down!”

  Kane ducked and jerked her down with him as gunfire rang out. The smell of gunpowder permeated the air, driving back the saline and mildew aromas. Bullets flew overhead, slammed into palm trees and shattered driftwood.

  “Damn, they’re close.” Kane looked at Tabitha
, gripped her hand in his and put his other hand on her shoulder. “Do it.”

  She nodded.

  “Draugalega ferðast!” Ghostly Travel!

  Kane felt the cold whirl around him like a storm, felt the air bite his skin.

  Then nothing.

  Tabitha looked at him, her eyes wide.

  “Kane, I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I…I don’t know why it isn’t working!”

  Kane heard more shouts come from the brush. “Find them! Take them alive!” He stood and closed his eyes, his muscles tense as he formed the words.

  “Aethereum ignus!” Ethereal Fire!

  Both of his hands warmed. He raised them, palms open as a fireball appeared in each. Five troops emerged from the brush, their rifles aimed. Each wore breathing gear, the hoses going over the shoulders to the air tanks on their backs. Their armor was copper-plate over black jumpsuits. Their breathing masks gave them an inhuman appearance.

  It reminded Kane of the Mors Rebrum. The Red Death.

  Sarah.

  “Freeze, asshole!” one of them barked, his rifle aimed at Kane.

  Kane shook off the memory as Tabitha stood and moved next to him, her eyes narrowed at the group, her jaw set as she opened her hands.

  “Draugalega frosti!” Ghostly Frost!

  An ice ball formed in her palm, blue and glowing as it danced inches above the skin.

  “Kane’s fire,” she said, eyeing the soldiers. “Freezing is my thing.” She hurled the ice ball at the group. The ball smacked into one soldier’s arm, and the man screamed as the limb froze solid, the cold magnified by the copper armor. Kane lobbed his two fireballs at the group. The fire hit the ground at their feet and exploded, the blast sending the troops several feet into the air. A bullet whizzed by Kane’s ear. He focused his hearing on the fly, heard the loud report of another rifle. The bullet wasn’t for him.

  Oh, God.

  He went low and swept his leg out, caught the back of Tabitha’s boot as he went. Her foot kicked out from under her, and she went down with a yelp as the bullet flew by and embedded itself in a tree at the same height her head would’ve been. She rolled to her front to get back up, but Kane scrambled to her and held her down with a hand on her back as he slung a fireball at an emerging gunman. The fire blast caught the man in the face and flipped him backward head over heels before he landed on the ground, the breathing gear charred and melted.

  Kane got off of Tabitha and helped her to her feet. She spun, wrapped her arms around him, and shouted at the top of her lungs.

  “Draugalega ferðast!”

  The cold swept at them, almost burned Kane’s face as the spell yanked them off their feet. They flew through the woods toward the rebel encampment. Trees came at them. They blew through them as if the obstacles were an illusion, speeding up as they reached the encampment.

  They stopped as suddenly as they’d started, hit the ground rolling. Kane got to his feet quickly and helped Tabitha up as he looked around the area. The Middleton still sat in the clearing they’d found, the Jezebel attached to it by a large towline. The Middleton was large, like the Jezebel, complete with the iron plate over the nose of the ship. Another freighter modified for combat and transport.

  He let his hearing go, heard rustling in the woods, boots on soil, the sound of a rifle being checked and reloaded. Orders. Kill the rebels. Take the Magicians alive. No other survivors. Boots on a ramp.

  “Shepherd!”

  Kane turned at the voice and saw General Regina Boudreaux Anderson standing on the boarding ramp leading into the cargo hold of the Middleton. The features of her dark face were hard, her eyes staring past Kane and into the woods. She knew they’d been found.

  “We’ve got company!” Kane called as he grabbed Tabitha’s hand and started toward the ship.

  “I don’t like company, Mr. Shepherd,” Anderson said as she moved to the side to allow Kane and Tabitha up the ramp and into the hold. “Not when I haven’t had a chance to spruce the place up.”

  There was a noise in Kane’s ear, the sound of a magazine being slapped into place. Copper armor. Flank them. Lay down suppressive fire. Keep those ships on the ground.

  “Down!”

  Anderson ducked around the corner of the rampway. Kane pulled Tabitha down as bullets rained inside the entry and hold, ricocheting off the metal. Kane heard the shooters reload, the sound sharp in his hearing. He nudged Tabitha. “Now! Go!” They got to their feet and ran into the hold as Anderson wound the crank, lifting the ramp. She pulled down the horn and shouted into it.

  “Get us in the air, Farnsworth! Now!”

  Farnsworth’s voice squawked out of the horn as Anderson put it back on the hook.

  “Aye, General! Benson, full steam in the boilers! Wilson, ready the crew at the guns!”

  Kane moved to Anderson.

  “There’s a battle cruiser here. We won’t make it. Not towing the Jezebel.” Kane felt the deck shift under him and grabbed onto the nearest rail. Tabitha was next to him, holding on as well. The Middleton leaned and lurched as it rose into the air, the back end tilting slightly as it pulled the Jezebel up with it. The ship lurched again, rumbled as the turbines began to roar on the outside. Farnsworth was gunning it.

  “Then we cut her loose!” Anderson said over the noise. “The release is up on the captain’s bridge with Farnsworth.” Anderson motioned to the door at the back of the hold. “Move out, you two!”

  They made their way to the door as the ship’s rumble grew heavier. Kane almost felt like he was walking against water as he approached the opening. Anderson got there first. She turned the crank and kicked the door open. Kane went through, then turned to Tabitha as she came up behind him. Anderson closed the door and locked it behind them.

  “Stay close to me,” Kane said to Tabitha. She nodded, and he turned and took the stairs two at a time until he hit the landing with the man lift. He pulled the lever on his left as Tabitha and Anderson crowded in with him. The lift rattled as it moved up the shaft, the hydraulics hissing as they went.

  Farnsworth bellowed to the scrambling crew as they emerged onto the captain’s deck.

  “General on deck! Look alive, men!”

  The Rebels scrambled to the guns on the deck while more moved toward the lift. Kane, Tabitha, and Anderson cleared out as men filled the lift to move down to the artillery deck.

  “She’s coming up on our rear, Captain!” Wilson, First Mate and navigator, stood next to Farnsworth, his face in the periscope, his back to Kane. The kid turned away from the periscope and looked at Farnsworth. “They’re gaining fast!”

  Anderson moved forward as she spoke.

  “The Jezebel is holding us down, Farnsworth! We need to cut her loose!”

  Farnsworth looked pained, his jaw set under his black beard, his dark features tense. He looked back at Wilson, who nodded reluctantly.

  “I agree, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

  Farnsworth gritted his teeth and shook his head.

  “Damn it all…Shepherd! Front and center!”

  Kane stepped forward, and was thrown off his feet instantly as a blast hit the Middleton. He the deck hard, slid into the far wall. He tried to recoup, but Tabitha was on top of him, screaming as she flailed around trying to find something to grab onto. His lungs deflated from the force, gasped for air as Tabitha grabbed the handrail above them and pulled herself off.

  “Kane!” she shouted over the noise.

  He shook it off, took a large gasp of air, and got to his feet. “Stay here!”

  Kane made his way to the helm where Farnsworth was trying with everything he had to get the Middleton to straighten back out.

  “She’s a bitch, this one,” the man bellowed. “We can’t hope to escape with the load on her tail. Ready at the release, Shepherd!”

  Kane nodded and moved to the release lever on the rear side of the bridge. He looked out through the port window. The battle cruiser erupted through the clouds, bearing down on them, her s
earchlights aimed forward.

  An idea struck Kane.

  It was insane. It wasn’t likely to work at all. In fact, it was more likely that it would get all of them killed.

  Farnsworth would love it.

  “Wilson!” Kane turned to the kid, who was still at the periscope. The kid looked at him, stood straight, and gave a salute.

  “Aye, sir!”

  “Knock that off! Get over here! Swap with me!”

  “What are you doing, Shepherd?” Farnsworth called from the helm. “Man your post!”

  “I have an idea. Just do as I say!”

  “I’m captain here,” Farnsworth said. “The General turned it over to me—” Another blast rocked the Middleton hard. She bucked forward, the stern rising. Kane hung onto the handrail, his feet leaving the deck, his body going almost horizontal before he landed back down on knees. He glanced over his shoulder at Tabitha. She’d held on, and was pulling herself back up as Farnsworth straightened the ship back out.

  “Belay that,” he shouted at Kane. He looked at Wilson. “Turning over temporary command to Mr. Shepherd! Do what he says, boy!”

  “Sir,” Wilson said with a nod.

  Kane got to his feet and moved past Farnsworth as Wilson moved to the tow release. He pulled the periscope into position and looked through the viewer. The cruiser was bearing down on them, the Jezebel floating behind on the thick tow cable. The cruiser avoiding it, aiming past the ship at the Middleton. Killing the Jezebel risked crashing the ruins into the cruiser and taking them down with it.

  Smart.

  “Pull the nose up,” Kane said to Farnsworth, not taking his eyes off the scope. “Give her everything you’ve got.”