Chapter 22
Stella
“Stay quiet and stay as close to the water as you can,” Alphie warned us after we went over the bridge. “It’s best if the Revvers never have any idea we’re here.”
On the south side of the river had been dense forests with narrow trails, but we had crossed onto the far more open lands of the north side. The riverbanks gave way to sloughs and muddy wetlands, so we had to venture farther into the grassy fields and even some of the brush.
“So, why exactly are these Revvers so dangerous?” Leandro asked wearily. “What are they going to do to us that the world already hasn’t?”
“They have guns,” Alphie said.
“Lots of people have guns,” Boden retorted. “It’s the ammunition that’s impossible to find anymore.”
“They have ammo, too,” Alphie replied.
“Bullshit,” Boden sneered. “Everywhere worth a damn was picked over long ago.”
Alphie looked sharply over at him. “The Revvers have holed up in Fort Lately. Do you know why it’s called Fort Lately, or did you think it had a cute name?”
“It’s not even that, is it?” Fergus asked. “Something like Bunny Hill or Fort Rainbow. That’d be a cute name, wouldn’t it?”
“There’s a town in England called Giggleswick,” Dougal added, leaning against the branch he was using as a walking stick.
“Well, Fort Lately isn’t cute,” Alphie said, sounding irritated.
“It’s a star-shaped bastion fort on a hill with walls of concrete ten feet tall and six feet thick.
It was built in the 1840s to be impenetrable to cannon fire.
Sometime in the last century, it was declared a historical site, refurbished, and turned into an educational tourist hotspot. That included a gift shop and museum.
“And that museum focused on 19th century weapons and artillery, and it was filled with them,” she went on. “And in the armory, it’s filled with all the other weapons they didn’t have room for in the museum.”
“But that’s all… old,” Leandro said, uncertainly. “Like crusty old antiques?”
“They might be antiques, but that doesn’t mean they’re useless,” Alphie insisted.
“Some of those old rifles were built to last, and the Revvers know how to maintain them. Nell was really involved in self-reliant naturalists before the outbreak, and it was those folks who knew to take the Fort for themselves and how to use the armaments there.”
“Who’s Nell?” I asked.
“Cornelia Mahler,” Alphie said, lowering her voice as if saying the name aloud would summon her. “She’s the Allmother of the Revvers.”
“What was it like?” I asked. “Living with the Revvers?”
Alphie was quiet a minute before answering, “It was really nice until it wasn’t. All bright colors and the darkest darkness.”
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” Edie quipped knowingly.
Alphie gave a small, humorless laugh. “With the Revvers, you get used to the contradictions.”
“Oy! You hear that, don’t you?” Fergus asked suddenly, alarmed, and then I heard it, too. Hoofbeats sounding much too close.
“What do we do?” Boden asked Alphie as two men on horses burst out from the brush a few meters in front of us.
With the river behind us and the wetlands surrounding us, there wasn’t anywhere to run.
Dougal especially couldn’t really move very fast, not that any of us were in any shape to outrun a horse.
Even with the adrenaline surging through me, I felt the exhaustion deep in my bones and the heavy weight of my daughter on my back.
The horses stopped at the edge of the muddy sloughs, where the ground was more solid. Both the riders had musket rifles pointed straight at us, and we were all plenty close enough to take a bullet. Or maybe a musket shot pellets or maybe balls? I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t want to find out this way.
Since there wasn’t much else to be done, we all grouped up together, with Boden and Alphie standing in the front. I slipped off my wrap, so I could hold Fae in my arms. In case I needed to run, I didn’t want her facing the shooters.
“Alphonsine, is that you?” one of the riders asked, smirking as he squinted down at her. He was the shorter of the two riders, built stocky like a finisher pig, with a shock of curly hair pulled back into a ponytail.
“Hello, Dusty,” Alphie said, and then, to the other rider, “Hello, Benedict.”
Benedict was the taller of the two men, and his mouth was pressed into a deep scowl. Over one of his eyes, he had on an eyepatch shaped like a sunflower, which contrasted with his otherwise intimidating presence.
I had been so focused on their weapons that I hadn’t noticed it right away, but the bridles on the horses were adorned with flowers and ribbons. Both the men wore brown pants with brightly colored tunics for tops.
“What are you doing here, Alphie?” Dusty asked. “I thought you didn’t want to be friends with us no more.”
“We’re only passing through,” Alphie said, and there was a nervous tremor to her voice. “We won’t be any bother, and we won’t even have a rest on your land.”
Dusty leaned forward on his horse and his gaze hardened as he glowered down at Alphie. “You know damn well that Nell is gonna wanna see you, and she would love to meet your little friends.”
“Maybe we can just talk – ” Boden started to say, and then Benedict’s musket pointed straight at him.
A loud shot cracked like thunder, and the ground directly in front of Boden’s feet erupted mud and grass in a small circle. Fae immediately started crying at the sound, a frightened wailing, and she put her chubby hands to her ears as I held her tightly to me.
“I think it’s best if you save the talking until you meet with Nell,” Dusty said, his rifle trained on us while his cohort reloaded his own. When he finished, he said, “Benedict, make sure they don’t got anything that’ll be a problem for us.”
Benedict dismounted and as he swaggered over to us on gangly, long legs, he demanded all our belongings.
With a few grumbles, we complied and dropped our bags and supplies on the ground.
He scooped them all up and loaded them onto the horses.
Afterward, he came back and patted us down to make sure we didn’t have any weapons.
It was when Benedict confiscated Dougal’s walking stick that it finally got to be too much.
Fergus asked him, “Going after the sick lad now, are you? Big man altogether.”
Benedict stepped up to Fergus and smiled at him, a wide, cold thing, like an icicle sliced across his face.
Then, without warning, he used the walking stick to clock Fergus right in the face.
Dougal cried out and tried to catch his younger brother, so they both fell back in the mud.
Boden moved forward, like he meant to do something, but Edie put a hand on his arm to stop him.
With the smug smile still in place, Benedict picked up the rest of our bags and sauntered back over to his fellow Revver. Fergus was bleeding from his lip, but he kept assuring us he was okay.
“They’ve got nothing left but the baby,” Benedict told Dusty as he walked back over to his horse.
“You’re not touching the baby,” Boden snapped, and both Boden and Edie moved in closer to me and Fae.
“Well, we’re done here. It’s time to get you to the Fort.” Dusty grinned down at us, then he waved the rifle at us, motioning for us to move. “Come on, Alphie, you still know the way. Follow her, and anybody that steps out of line will end up with a bullet in their head. Yes, even the baby.”
Reluctantly, we began our slow walk forward, with Alphie leading the way, her shoulders tense and head lowered. Every few steps, I glanced down at Fae, holding her close, and tried to steady my breath.
Much too soon, we rounded a thicket of trees and the fortress at the top of the hill came into view. In the middle of the Canadian wilderness, it was a concrete behemoth, with bastions jutting out at sharp points.
Yet it held a bright touch of whimsy. All of the walls had been painted in vibrant colors – mostly reds and oranges, but purples, blues, and greens, too. From far away, it looked like swirls and blotches, but as we grew closer, I could see flowers, trees, a purple elk, and a blue moose.
But in every mural, no matter the landscape, there would be skeletons dancing through it. Sometimes together, arms entwined in a waltz, and other times side-by-side with their legs flung this way and that.
Fae squealed in delight when she saw the paintings, and at any other time, I would’ve relished the chance to show them all to her. But now I could only hold her close and try to quell her excitement.
At the top of the hill, we reached the iron door into the fortress. Above it, the words Reverence of the Revenants had been written in a swirling script.
Dusty barked out a command to open the gates, and a large arched door slowly groaned outward. Beyond it was a dark tunnel through the thick walls, and Benedict commanded us to march forward into the darkness.