Pennsylvania Omnibus (16 page)

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Authors: Michael Bunker

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“So why not tell me? It’s not like I
haven’t asked.”

Pook shrugged and pointed at Jed
with the cigarette. “We have cross purposes, Jed. The first thing you should
know is that I don’t care about you. Don’t care what you know, or who you are
by accident of birth. You want to know things, and we’ve all been ordered to
keep things secret.” Pook took a long draw from the smoke and then closed his
eyes as he exhaled. “But… but it looks like now the cat is out of the bag.”
Pook cocked his head and gave Jed a look that was half apology, and half “deal
with it.”

Dawn stepped up and grabbed Jed by
the arm, pulling him closer to her. Eagles smiled, but he didn’t lower his
rifle. He kept it trained on Jed’s head, and around his grin, spittle glistened
in his facial hair.

Dawn reached over, and with a snarl
she pushed Eagles’s rifle barrel down, and Eagles let her. He looked amused.
“Jed,” Dawn said. “We’ve all known that you have a lot of questions, and I’m
sorry we haven’t answered them. It’s frustrating, I know. But your brother had
his reasons for keeping you in the dark. He wanted you to see things and
understand them in their proper order and context.”

“So my brother, Amos—he’s here, in
New Pennsylvania? Now?”

“Yes, Jed, he is.” Dawn reached over
with her other hand and pulled Jed even closer to her so that she could look
him in the eye. “Everyone gets frustrated when there are more questions than
answers. You’re not the only one. We all do. And your brother understood that.
He’s the one who contacted me via my BICE when I met you at the Transport desk.
He messaged me in my head—as you would say it—and ordered me to escort you
here. He said that he wanted you to get to the City, and then to the Amish
Zone, so you could see everything for yourself. You have to
understand—”

“I
have
to understand? What
do I
have
to understand, Dawn?”

Dawn’s eyes narrowed, and he could
tell that she was irritated. “Do you think we’ve all
not
wanted to
answer your questions? Do you think Ducky’s men
wanted
to die last night
to protect you and to try to get you where you want to go? Do you think Donavan
wanted to bleed out onto the floor of an antique shop just so we could all keep
secrets from you? Get some freaking perspective, will you Jed?”

Jed didn’t respond. He didn’t know
what to say. The English were always trying to make the Amish feel guilty for
decisions the strangers had made totally on their own. He was sorry about the
deaths. Truly sorry. But he hadn’t asked for anyone to die. He hadn’t asked for
any of this.

Dawn took a deep breath and softened
her voice before continuing. “You have to understand that the story you need to
know is bigger than you can possibly grasp all at once. You really need to see
it
all
, so that you’ll believe it and comprehend it. Your brother knew
that. He’s wiser than you can imagine, Jed. If we just dumped everything on you
as soon as you got to the antique shop, you’d be even more overwhelmed than you
already are. He believed that without the ability to see some things for
yourself, you’d just be getting context-less information and you’d be liable to
make bad decisions.”

“That’s what my brother
said?”

“Yes.”

“He’s just a boy!”

“He’s not a boy, Jed. Not at all.
He’s the leader of the revolution against this present tyranny. And that isn’t
just what he
said
… that’s what your brother
knows
,” Dawn
said.

“So where is he?”

Dawn hesitated. Jed tried to read
her, but it was difficult. There were so many social and cultural differences.
To him it seemed as if she was still trying to think of a way to continue on
the mission as it had been designed.

“Our job is to keep you alive and
get you to the Amish Zone,” she said finally. “A lot of people have been hurt
or killed to make sure that this is what happens. None of them asked a bunch of
questions about what and why. They were all taking orders, and that’s what
we’re doing too. We all trust your brother—
the SOMA
—with our lives. If
we’re going to have a future, we have to see the bigger picture, and we have to
follow orders.”

“The
SOMA
?” Jed shook his
head. “Is that some kind of resistance joke? Because his name is
Amos?”

“I can see why you’d think
that.”

There was a loud
harrumph
.
Eagles had heard enough talk. He pushed Dawn aside and grabbed Jed by the coat,
twisting him around until he was kneeling again. The old salvager pushed the
rifle barrel up under Jed’s chin and then turned to Pook. “Talking is enough
now. Boy being with me.”

Without needing a signal and in
perfect synchronization, Ducky and the rest of the men fanned out so that there
would be no crossfire. In unison, their pistols came up to the ready position,
aimed directly at Eagles. Eagles just smiled and spat again. “Let’s… partying!”
he said, which made him laugh.

Pook raised his hands, trying to
calm nerves and to interdict any itchy trigger fingers. “You monkeys calm down.
Everybody get your booger-hooks off the bang buttons. Nobody’s getting shot
right now.”

Eagles had fire in his eyes and a
huge grin on his face. He was ready for some action. He looked at Pook and
raised his eyebrows, then winked.

“Wanting boy? You paying me rich
right now.”

Jerry Rios, with his pistol aimed at
the old man’s head, whistled for Pook to look over to him. “Say the word,
Pook,” Jerry said. “Just say the word.”

Pook didn’t reply; he just held up
his hand in a “stop” signal and turned back to Eagles. “Eagles, the only reason
you’re not dead and we’re not already moving toward the AZ is because you’re my
friend. Keep that in mind. The Amish fellow offered you the gold and you turned
him down. Now you want money?”

Eagles pointed at Pook and crooked
his finger. “No gold. Gold being easy. Eeguls can always getting
gold.”

“Earlier you wanted gold from the
SOMA, but now you don’t? Well, how do you propose I pay you if you don’t want
gold?”

Eagle winked and crooked his finger
again. “Giving Eeguls firing stick.”

“Firing stick?”

“Putting in pocket. Firing stick.
Give to Eeguls for boy.”

Pook looked around the group from
face to face. “Firing stick?”

“The okcillium lighter, Pook,” Dawn
said. “He wants the lighter.”

Pook furrowed his brow. “Noooooo,”
he said slowly, shaking his head.

Dawn nodded her head and implored
her cousin with her eyes.

“Not a chance,” Pook said. He
exhaled deeply and looked over at Ducky, who lowered his pistol and took a few
steps toward Pook.

“Just give him the lighter, man!
Let’s get outta here. You know this is taking too long. We’re exposed here,
Pook.”

Pook closed his eyes—then reached
into his pocket and pulled out the lighter. He rubbed it longingly, then tossed
it to Eagles, who caught it cleanly and almost immediately lowered his
rifle.

Ducky was already in motion, “All
right team, we’re heading to the AZ taking Route Bravo. Everyone got
it?”

Each member of the team said, “Roger
that” in unison. Dawn took Jed by the hand and brought him over behind Ducky as
the unit fanned out again, each member then dropping to a knee and checking
weapons, waiting for an order from Pook or Ducky to move out.

Jed looked to the northwest,
unconsciously gazing in the direction he believed the Amish Zone to be. That
was where he wanted to go, and by their preparatory movements, it appeared to
be the direction the team intended to go as well. As he stared off into the
distance, it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing. In the
distance, a half-dozen TRACERs—hovering white globes equipped with lenses and
flashing lights—were approaching in formation, rapidly advancing toward the
group. Jerry must have seen the drones at the same time, because Jed heard the
big man’s voice, thick with tension, “Here they come!” just as the fullness of
what was happening flashed across Jed’s mind.

Pook barked, “TRACERs! Everyone
move!”

Eagles fired first; his shot caused
one of the drones to shudder. The sound of the shot was like a starter’s pistol
and everyone sprang into motion just before a loud explosion rocked the ground
and Jed felt dirt and debris raining down on him. It wasn’t a miss. Some rebel
had instantly ceased to be. Jed pulled Dawn to him and made for a low hill to
the southwest just as a blast of laser light fried the ground where they’d been
standing. The team opened fire at the drones, and orders echoed through the air
like cracks of lightning as Jed now pulled Dawn into a low crawl. Another laser
crackled past his head, and he could feel the heat and the electrical sensation
of static as the shot went by.

The assault was overwhelming and
brutal, and was met in earnest by Pook, Ducky, and the rest of the TRACE
fighters. Billy—the man who had some kind of history with Dawn—raced through an
electric mist of smoke and flying debris and slid in next to Dawn and Jed
behind the low hill.

Billy grabbed Dawn’s hand and pulled
her closer so that he could be heard over the din of battle. “Take Jed now and
get moving! Head northwest!”

Dawn shook her head. “We shouldn’t
leave the group!”

“They’re looking for him!” Billy
said with a jerk of his head toward Jed. “They’ll kill everyone ’til they find
him. If you don’t want to die—with him dead beside you—then you need to get out
of here, now!”

“We’re staying with the team until
Pook or Ducky order me to leave!” Dawn shouted over the noise.

Jed’s attention was drawn to Ducky,
who had moved out from behind cover and was systematically firing his pistol at
one of the drones. Ducky had a good angle on the TRACER and was taking
advantage of his position to try to bring the drone down with small-arms fire.
As the soldier fired away, Jed saw another drone swinging into position to fire
on Ducky. Before he could shout a warning, Eagles, who must have seen the same
thing, sprinted the distance between himself and the rebel fighter and tackled
him to the ground just as the second drone opened fire. The move saved Ducky’s
life, and Eagles rolled with the smaller man until they were both safely behind
a low mound.

The drone Ducky had been firing at
then took another direct hit from rebel fire, and it spun into the ground with
a squeal and a piercing whistle. It crashed into the ground about fifty yards
in front of Jed’s hiding spot, and the explosion sent a shudder through the air
that stunned everyone for a moment.

Ducky stared at Eagles for a moment,
and then both warriors began laughing and Ducky slapped the salvager hard on
his shoulder—his way of thanking the strange man for saving his life. Eagles
just laughed and laughed, green slobber running down his face, before deciding
to rejoin the fight.

The moment of victory was
short-lived. Jed turned away from the remnants of the TRACER explosion just in
time to see three of Ducky’s men instantly vaporized in a shower of laser light
and smoke, and a fourth cut cleanly in half by a phosphorescent round that hit
him in the hip as he ran for cover. The suddenness and brutality of it all
stunned Jed into closing his eyes for a moment, but the images of death and
destruction seemed to be burned into his retinas. Closing his eyes changed
nothing; the hellish assault on his senses continued. There was no escape. The
land had become a killing field, and men were dying to his left and to his
right.

Jed had almost despaired of
any
of their lives being spared when, as suddenly as the attack had
commenced, the firing coming from the attacking Transport craft stopped, and
the remaining drones retreated and disappeared from view.

The smoky, mercurial haze sat low
upon the ground. Small fires in the low brush crackled and hissed, and added
more smoke that clouded the battlefield and stung the eyes. Jed found himself
looking around dumbfounded—like everyone else in the rebel group—when a loud,
amplified voice trembling with bass blasted over the battle scene.

 

“Attention rebel militia currently
engaged in illegal combat with lawful Transport administration authorities! Pay
strict attention to the following commands

“Give up Jedediah Troyer, alive or
dead, and you will all be allowed to depart unhindered. I repeat: Give up
Jedediah Troyer, alive or dead, and you will not face immediate death and/or
capture.

“If our attack commences again, you
will almost certainly be killed—and in the unlikely event that you are
captured, you will be tried according to Transport law. If you do not face
execution for your crimes against the people, you will face rehabilitation and
resettlement to the frontier cities.

“This area is surrounded. There can
be no escape. We have airships and ground units moving in on your location.
Give up Jedediah Troyer and you will be allowed to depart unimpeded. You have
sixty seconds to comply.”

 

 

 

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