Coven's Rebellion Chapter 21

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Amelia

The smuggler’s tunnel under the Delaware was dank, musty, and smelled like a toilet that a recruit had abandoned after their first taste of camp food. We weren't wading through shit, though. It wasn't a sewer, it was an old, forgotten maintenance tunnel that had the misfortune of existing for too long. Honestly, it was a wonder that the concrete here had held up at all. Underneath the shoes I wore on my android feet, I could’ve sworn it was just the faintest bit spongy.

On the bright side, at least there wasn't any risk of catching something down here. The poor microbes were probably trying their hardest, fighting tooth and nail to crawl up my flats or paraglide through the air, only to find out that they'd been bamboozled by carefully crafted polymer. Sorry little guys. Go find a nice, accommodating rat.

Hopefully, we'd have better luck infiltrating the American Republic than those poor mono-cellular vikings had with me. The fact that we were using a tunnel so close to the Trenton border crossing had me on edge. Back when I was with the rangers, I'd visited the place once. I knew the kind of hardware they were packing in that decrepit old fortress.

“The hatch is here,” Rosa said over comms, her tone all business. My sweet, cuddly little girlfriend could turn into the most goal-oriented cold-hearted operator when she wanted to — like a bunny rabbit with murder in its heart and teeth made of hardened steel.

“Alright, ladies,” said the third member of our party as ‘he’ sashayed past me. “Time for the big strong man to take point. Wouldn't want any pigs to come sniffing around you.”

“That attitude will get us arrested faster than two women walking alone ever could,” Rosa sighed, exasperated by our flamboyant new friend.

He laughed. “Look, you needed a man who can charm, cheat, and chaperone. I'm the best you had available.”

“You're not even a man,” I grumbled, trying desperately to stop a smile from hoisting itself up like the black flag of a pirate vessel.

“I look pretty manly right now,” he said, spinning to lean against the wall in a typical ‘hot boi’ pose. I raised one very unimpressed eyebrow.

Our companion was wearing a muscular android body, with short dirty blonde hair, a square jaw, and wide shoulders. He was the picture of a dudebro who had found his feet after college. His outfit had similar energy too, except with a practicality to it that the business-major-boy looks didn't quite line up with. Like, no business boy would wear sensible boots like that, and the hydrophobic coat didn't have the right kind of flair.

Meanwhile, Rosa and I were in pretty apron dresses, with warm, styled coats over the top. Our shoes were both sensible flats that had a little more grip on them than you might expect. We were, in essence, doing our best to look like good, demure little American girls. It made me want to vomit — vitriol or chunks, I wasn't sure.

“Rusti, now is not the time to play the fool,” Rosa said with a voice that was more brittle than the rust on the hatch she'd found.

After seeing Rusti, our SAI companion, push off from the wall with a chagrined expression, she nodded and turned to the hatch again. She eyed it inquisitively for a second or two, then twisted her hand out to touch it delicately. From the pores in her skin, nanites swarmed like liquid towards the rusted shut seam around the hatch. Oxidation began to drift away in a cloud, while the nanites almost seemed to gain volume as they devoured the metallic rot.

Soon, the hatch was clean, and Rosa reached out and pulled it. There was an awful screech as bare metal moved against bare metal, and it swung open to reveal a basement of some kind. Old, rotting wooden furniture was piled against one wall. Beside it were stacks of books that came up to chest height. Mildew and mold fought a slow, highly unsanitary fungal battle throughout the towers of ancient literature.

One by one, we stepped through into the basement. My shoes touched down into a muddy, dusty puddle that just barely overflowed into them. The squish of rancid mud made the bones in my feet want to crawl up and cling to my spine for safety. Of course, I had no bones, but that didn't stop my subconscious from doing its absolute fucking best to conjure some. Hiking up my skirt, I carefully picked my way around the large puddle that dominated the centre of the room.

Rusti approached the rickety old staircase first, while Rosa idly examined a few of the topmost books on the piles.

“This is… fiction? Fantasy? Why is it stacked down here? Why was it forgotten?”

Rusti glanced back at her. “What's the title?”

“The Oleander Sword?” Rosa said, trying to pick the book up. It came away with half of the one below it attached. The pages were more or less fused together.

“Very old queer fantasy story,” Rusti said with a rueful melancholy. “Second in a series. It's illegal here — has been for a long time.”

“That's… regretful,” Rosa murmured as she tried in vain to separate the fused books.

Rusti gave the book a sad smile, then turned and carefully began to sneak up the stairs. “Going to check upstairs.”

The wooden stairs were rotten almost to the point of collapse, but with careful movement Rusti, then Rosa ascended. I, however, managed to put my foot through one of the planks, and I was forced to grab onto the metal handrail to steady myself.

“You okay?” Rosa asked as she took my hand to pull me up onto the landing.

With an embarrassed little smirk, I said, “Uh, of course?”

She let go and brushed her thumb affectionately across my cheek for a second. “My beautiful damsel, no need to act tough with me.”

“I’m literally fine! The board gave out and I’m in a zippy android body!”

I was totally pouting, and honestly, I think pouting gets a bad rap. Everyone’s all like ohhh, you’re pouting, like it isn’t just an expression that expresses mild displeasure.

“I’m aware.” Her expression was as blank as it usually was, except for a little twinkle in her eye. “I was just teasing you. You’re normally so light on your feet.”

I huffed. “Yeah, and I’m aware that you’re teasing me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Has knowledge of my teasing stopped it from working?”

I gaped at her, and then because I had zero come-backs for that, I poked her in the stomach and brushed past. She giggled and followed behind me.

It was so nice to hear Rosa giggle. It was such a rare occurrence, and it lifted my heart to know she was enjoying herself.

The upstairs of the abandoned shop was… the opposite of a cute girl’s laughter. Vegetation was flowing in through the smashed windows of the old bookshop, to the point where you’d have to deploy some serious bushwhacking to get through them. Even after dozens upon dozens of years, it was still clear that this place had been torched.

There was little to indicate that it had even been a bookshop, except for the collapsed shelves that sagged away from the walls.

“Look at our feet,” Rusti commented, digging at something with the toe of his boot.

Looking down, I saw the remains of a bookshelf. It looked like it had fallen down in the fire.

“This shop was selling banned books. The basement was hidden behind this bookshelf,” he explained sombrely.

“Why did it burn, if it wasn't the books?” Rosa asked softly.

Rusti gave the remnants of the windows an unreadable look. “Maybe 20 years ago? It was after the American Republic’s civil war, when it refused to reinstate the treaty from the end of World War Three. There was a lot of unrest back then. Trenton was the site of a border skirmish with Canada, too. The town withdrew from the river after that.”

“It is truly depressing to see humanity repeat its mistakes with this much regularity,” Rosa murmured.

Her hand tentatively reached out and found mine. Together, we absorbed the decaying remains of a tragedy that was simultaneously personal in scale, and Earth-shaking in its implications. I wonder if the fire here was accidental, or deliberate? Would it be better or worse if it was just random collateral damage?

“Let's see if anyone is watching,” Rusti said, sidling up to the shattered remains of the shop windows. Gently, he moved aside some of the invasive green vine that was merrily attempting to devour this one small sin of the American Republic.

Rosa dropped my hand and took a peek along with him. “Doesn't look like it.”

“Okay… well, now we just have to climb through all this ivy,” he muttered, attempting to part it with wide sweeps of his hands.

When his android arms easily tore a hole, we all sort of stared in confusion for a moment before we shared a laugh. Right. Super powerful bodies.

When we made our escape attempt, it was more effort keeping the ivy where it was supposed to be, than pushing through it. Once we were out in the street, Rosa and I quickly fell in beside and slightly behind Rusti, and he led the way towards the inhabited portion of Trenton.

The transition from ruined town to the one that was lived in happened on a sort of abrupt gradient. One moment, the plants were covering everything, and the next… well they still covered things, but there were lights on in the buildings. Since it was barely past dusk, there was still a little activity in the streets. One or two men hustled towards unknown destinations, while a lone elderly woman swept leaves from her porch.

She stopped to eye us suspiciously as we passed on towards the next block, where ivy no longer ruled over a kingdom of damp decay. My first instinct was to glare right back at her, but I caught myself just in time and kept my eyes to myself.

Trenton was an interesting town. In some ways, it felt familiar — like a dozen different rural Canadian towns. In other ways, it was a jarring step into the past. All the architecture was actual wood, brick, and concrete, and where newer materials were used, it was tacked on like some sort of depressing afterthought. One example was an HVAC unit that had a cladding of modern-ish bio-polymer. That one in particular appeared to be non-functional.

The centre of town was somewhat lively, however. Two restaurants were on diagonally opposite corners of an intersection, and people appeared to be treating them as a social gathering space.

Seeing this, Rusti attempted to turn us around, probably to avoid interactions, when a man in a dark blue military uniform saw us. In a sling on his back, he had a standard issue American Republic army rifle.

Pursing his lips, he whistled loudly and pointed a finger at us. “Sir. I don't recognise you. Give me your papers.”

“Shit,” Rusti muttered, as he fished around in his jacket pocket.

Just as the police dude arrived, the papers were found, and Rusti presented them to the man. They were snatched without a word, and the cop's eyes scanned through them with a terrifying depth of focus.

“Long way from Staunton,” he remarked, giving Rusti a long, suspicious glare.

“Just went for a walk before finding somewhere to stay for the night. We were visiting family up in Allentown,” Rusti said, with the sort of obedient nervousness that cops craved.

When Rusti said ‘we’, the man's eyes finally skimmed over Rosa and me. “Came by bus? These your sisters?”

“Uh, yes, and yes, sir,” Rusti said with a deferential nod.

The cop gave a grunt, then finally handed the papers back. “Justin’s does food and board. It's one block south, two west.”

And with those curt parting words, the cop left, already intent on watching the townsfolk as they socialised under his squad's watch.

When we were out of earshot, Rosa shook her head in disgust. “So much left unsaid, there. Did you notice how the women weren't mingling in the street? Do you think that is a literal rule, or just a social custom?”

“Women aren't allowed out on the street after dark, unless they have a man with them,” Rusti said, as softly as he could manage. “Come on. Let's find this place where we can stay. I do not like being out here at night.”