Conscripts were distributed among the companies to replace the losses they had taken against the Brotherhood. Sylvia and William’s companies were stationed at Fisk Park to drill their new wardens. They filed out of the city in disorderly columns, shivering in their ill-fitting uniforms with their hands in their pockets. They had yet to be issued the rifles, which would be handed out once they proved themselves capable and trustworthy with a service rifle.
Until then, the conscripts would receive instruction from the sergeants, who were aided by the corporals, however many of either had survived. This left Sylvia and William the opportunity to offload their administrative work to their lieutenants, who also provided them with their alibis while they snuck away from camp. William led the way to the first of his distilleries, having assigned the schedule for their patrols around the camp.
They moved west, closer to Warden City, to Sylvia’s surprise. The distillery was sheltered in an old car wash, barely hidden from the street. Over a dozen people walked around the building or were seated at tables, eating and conversing. Any vigilant patrols could easily be alerted to the movement of the workers in the distillery.
“How did this place go unnoticed for so long?” Sylvia asked.
“I think Kenneth’s been using this place as his personal supply for decades. Must be him.” William said. “I was drinking one night with some grunts from Bravo and Kenneth joined us. He told me about the distillery a week or two after that, as long as I took over the responsibility to deliver Bravo’s moonshine.”
“And he trusted you? Just like that?”
“He made me swear secrecy, but delivering their moonshine made me fully complicit. I couldn’t snitch even if I wanted to.”
“It can’t be much of a secret if some grunts know about it.”
“Only the old ghouls, the veterans. They could probably get their own commands if they just asked.”
“What about the ISC and the admins you mentioned before?”
“Kenneth said hands needed to be greased so wheels could spin. Whatever that means. Only Kenneth and his guys know the truth. As far as the others know, they really were just bribes from Mercer Island.”
Sylvia and William walked up the sloping asphalt leading into the car wash. Two wardens, both captains, and nobody seemed to care. Only a few sent glances their way, but they were nothing more than curious. Sylvia didn’t quite understand why, until they were greeted by the foreman.
“Captain William.” The foreman said and pulled William into a warm embrace. “Are you here to collect Kenneth’s moonshine?”
“Not today, I’m here on other business. The other foreman should have told you about it?”
A look of realization passed over the foreman. “Ah, so you’re the one. The other guy didn’t tell me who I should be expecting, but I should’ve known.” The foreman waved for William to follow. “Come inside. I have your moonshine ready for transport.”
The foreman led William and Sylvia to a barrel of moonshine sitting in a storage room, surrounded by shelves upon shelves of filled bottles or other barrels. “We can’t transport it like this.” Sylvia said, gesturing to the barrel. It was tall enough to reach her thigh and wide enough that she could hide inside.
The foreman smiled and clasped his hands together. “We can offer an equivalent amount in bottles, if you’d prefer, but it would take time to collect the bottles and fill them.”
“Just give us the bottles you already have.” William said.
“How will we transport it? We’ll have to bring in more people to help.” Sylvia asked. “Even then, there’s increased security around the gates.”
The foreman was the one who answered. “If you need it transported into the city, I might be able to help.” The foreman gave William a look. “We can bring it in through the usual route.”
The look they shared and his choice of words implied more. Sylvia was almost willing to let the implications go, but she needed to be direct. “We’re here to smuggle moonshine into the city. Do you understand? The caravans will be checked.”
The foreman was taken aback. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re honest distillers. We don’t smuggle.”
“Your contacts do that.” William said. “Relax, she knows. That's why she’s here.”
The foreman looked Sylvia up and down with undisguised mistrust, as if he was one who could cast judgment. “Who is she, exactly?”
“My name is Sylvia, captain of F Company.”
The foreman relaxed at the words, instead of the usual fear that captured raiders showed. “Would it really be fine to tell her about the passage?” William shrugged and the foreman sighed, turning to Sylvia. “Kenneth showed us a passage underneath the city. Something he called a sewer. It’s a series of tunnels running below the city. There’s an entrance along Lake Washington that’s supposed to be blocked off, but Kenneth made an opening just for us. We meet our contacts inside the city who take custody of the moonshine for safe keeping.”
“From there, I deliver it to whoever gets their share.” William said. “It’s like I told you before. It’s a whole thing Kenneth set up.”
“Should we really be inserting ourselves into Kenneth’s schemes?”
“Kenneth is probably the one who started this distillery to begin with.”
The foreman nodded his head. “My father and grandfather were working here long before I was born.”
Kenneth had helped found Warden City when the Wardens first took over Capitol Hill from one of the many raider gangs in Seattle, but the corruption he personally allowed to operate in Warden City was astonishing. In a sense, corruption was at the very heart of the Wardens.
It disgusted Sylvia, she knew it had to, but she had no choice but to rely on it. If it meant bringing in supplies for the hospital, then it was a small price to pay. The wardens stuck inside, who had the worst injuries among the wounded, had earned something to dull their pain.
“So we’ll meet this contact in the city, you’ll collect your bribes, and I’ll bring the rest to the hospital?” Sylvia said.
“For the hospital? Whatever for, if you don’t mind me asking?” The foreman asked.
“For whatever they need. To sterilize something or give it to wounded to numb their pain.”
The foreman nodded appreciatively. “A noble effort.”
“It’ll be fine, trust me. Everything is already in place, we just need to work it to our advantage.” William said and Sylvia gave in.
“How much can your contacts in the city store? The hospital is gonna need more than a few bottles for all our wounded.”
—
The areas close to Warden City were sparse with patrols. What few wardens they could spare were probably sent to secure the furthest fringes of their territories. The ones sent to patrol the interior were lax in their duties and easier to evade. Landon and the Freaks trailed Harlowe and his companion westward, both groups dodging Warden patrols as they traveled away from the Warden army camp.
“So when are they gonna start fucking?” Jasper asked. “We were supposed to catch Landon off guard, with his pants around his ankles. All this stalking is no fun, can we just kill ‘em and be done with it?”
“Maybe, but I want to know what Fishhooks is scheming.” Landon said.
Richie tapped on Landon’s shoulder and pointed her rifle to the building Harlowe and his companion walked into. She looked through her scope and her brows furrowed. “There’s about a lot of people in there. Men and women.”
“Sounds like a party.” Barrow chuckled. “Maybe they’ll let us join?”
Landon and the Freaks entered through a rear exit into an old store across the street from Harlowe’s position, peeking their heads over the counter. The building Harlowe entered had once been dedicated to washing things called “cars”, the wrecks strewn all along the roads of Seattle or ordered semi-neatly in “parking lots”. The building had been repurposed for something specific, not quite the basic set-up scavengers might have.
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“Richie, see anything?” Landon asked, squinting through his binoculars.
Richie slowly placed her rifle over the counter, careful to not make any sudden movements, and looked through her scope. “They’re moonshiners. Fishhooks is doing business.”
Moonshiners operating outside Warden City, or outside any of their settlements, meant something nefarious. Tax evasion was the most common reason. They were more susceptible to robbery, but their profit margins were larger. Moonshiners operating so close to Warden City also meant something corrupt, which explained Harlowe’s secrecy.
“Have any of you heard of this place?” Landon asked. “Maybe while you were extorting caravans for protection money?”
“I know of two moonshine distilleries in Warden Territory. One inside Warden City, honest dealers who smuggle on the side, and another further north, much further away.” Barrow said. “I always heard the officers had an illegal supply of moonshine, maybe that’s it.”
“If that distillery operated during Barrow’s time in the Warden army, then it predates Harlowe by at least two decades.” Jasper said.
“Only a decade at the most. I’m not that old.” Jasper and Richie glanced at the graying hairs on Barrow’s beard. “They’re just grays, not whites. Plenty of color mixed in.”
Landon ignored them. “To have operated so long, so close to the city means at least a few connections in the city.” The location serving as the Warden officer’s own private distillery was looking more likely. “If Harlowe is sneaking around, it’s probably to keep the secret.”
“Will we go in to confront him? If those moonshiners cater to Warden officers, they might not stay neutral if we go barging in.” Richie asked.
“Nah, we’ll wait until they leave. We’ve got three days before the ferryman leaves.”
—
Workers from the distillery were sent away to deliver bottles of moonshine to their secret sewer tunnels leading into the city as Sylvia and William made their way back to the army camp. In a day or two, they could return to the city for some minor paperwork. It was an excuse that Elliott and the other captains used to relax in the city, while their companies were rotated out to patrol the territories along the fringes of Warden control.
It wasn’t something Sylvia did often, and not usually for the same reasons as the others, but she was glad to have learned the trick. By the time Sylvia and William returned to the city, their moonshine would be ready for delivery from the warehouse hidden in the south of the city. The hospital staff, well liked by the majority of the city’s residents, could probably help bring the moonshine to the hospital without being snitched on.
However, the numbers that could be smuggled through the sewers were meant to supply Kenneth and select men from his Bravo Company. If the hospital was to be fully stocked with enough moonshine to sedate whoever needed sedating, then Sylvia had to find another way to smuggle more moonshine into the city.
“If you can trust Feris, she and a few of the other officers can help us smuggle more into the city ourselves. They’ll come with us into the city for some bullshit paperwork.” William suggested.
“We’ll have to start with that, but it won’t be enough. How many bottles could we hide under our coats? One under each arm?”
“Maybe four or six. Two under each arm and two more in front. We’ll need to figure out how to secure them. But maybe we could rotate platoons back into the city for leave and sneak moonshine into their baggage. They’ll never have to know.” William said, focusing more than he usually did in his regular duties. “If we can get guys into the security detail on one of the gates, we could bring in whatever we wanted. Find out who’s in rotation, bribe them and have them overlook anything strange they might see. Maybe they could let our smugglers through.”
A man fell against William from behind and wrestled him to the ground. A second man tried to grapple onto Sylvia, but the man fell through empty air as she jumped away and pulled at her rifle. It was slung over her shoulder, barrel pointed to the ground in a patrol carry position, which allowed her to transition to a combat-ready position in an instant.
The position was standard for all wardens, from lessons learned over two hundred years ago, but it didn’t matter. Sylvia felt something press against the back of her head and she didn’t have to see it to know it was the barrel of a gun.
“Get your hand away from that trigger and place your rifle on the ground, or I’ll blow your brains out.” A woman said Sylvia did as she was told. “That’s right. Now, hands behind your head and get on your knees.”
The man who tried to tackle her, a youth with twelve fingers, pushed himself off the floor and kicked her rifle away from her. Another man came into view, dressed in dark leathers and his jet black hair combed back. Tattoos covered his face, each with esoteric meaning that only raiders were familiar with. A skeletal smile was tattooed across his mouth, extending to either side of his face. It was a Skulltakers smile, but the canines on the upper jaw extended longer than normal.
Sylvia recognized the man as the Overboss of the Hounds. “Landon.” She said, voice even. “You’re far from home.”
Landon smiled wickedly, relishing his power over his prisoners. “I could say the same about you two.”
“Landon, you cunt.” William grunted out as he was pulled to his knees with his arms pinned behind his back. The large, bald man who wrestled him to the ground put a foot on the back of one of his legs.
“Hello, Fishhooks, never thought I’d get to meet you face to face like this again. Look at you, a fucking Captain of the Wardens.”
“What the hell do you want?”
Landon walked over to William and struck him across the jaw with a fist. The blow brought William reeling to the side, bleeding from a cut on his cheek, but he was held in place by the bald man.
“Funny, I’m actually here to ask you that same question. I saw the way you two were sneaking around. Very suspicious.”
William spat blood. “I’m not telling you shit, dog fucker.”
“I can literally do this all day. You can’t say the same. You’ve got to run back to your camp, don’t you? People are gonna come looking, but you’re both at my mercy until then.” Landon struck William again, then again, then again. Each strike cracking loudly in the silence. William was tough, but he swayed with effort to keep his head upright. His face had swelled beneath a slick layer of blood, forcing one eye closed. “You know the deal. Just tell me what I want to know and I might let you live.”
Sylvia’s helmet, and her mask, were pulled away from her head. “Look at that, Richie. Her hair is nearly as red as yours!” The man with the twelve-fingers said.
The woman groaned. “Why did you say my name? Now she knows who I am, Jasper.”
“Hey, but now you said my name. Not cool!”
“Keep my name out of your mouth next time.”
The bald man turned to face Sylvia. “She’s a cutie.”
Landon looked at the grimace on William’s face and smiled. He walked to Sylvia and yanked her hair back, forcing her to face William. “What do you think, Fishhooks, is she cute?” Landon said, calling William by his old raider nickname.
Landon let Sylvia’s hair go, but pulled a revolver from his coat and pointed it at her forehead. William’s eyes went wide with panic as he struggled against his captor, but he was held firmly in place. William blubbered, “I’ll tell you what you want. Anything, just let us go.”
“Is that panic I smell?” Landon laughed. “Or did you just shit yourself?”
The bald man chuckled as he shook William side to side. “Looks like Fishhooks found himself a cute little salmon.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Landon asked, confused, but the bald man shrugged.
“They taste good.”
“Why a salmon?” Jasper asked.
“Because they’re red.”
“I thought salmon were pink.” Richie said.
The bald man grumbled. “That’s just the flesh.”
“Focus.” Landon pistol whipped Sylvia across the face and blood streamed from her nose, broken at the ridge. “Tell me what I want to know or-” A bullet embedded itself into a nearby wall as a shot rang out in the distance. Sylvia felt relief as a Warden patrol charged towards them, stopping every few steps to fire their bolt-action rifles. They were all caught somewhere they weren’t supposed to be, but Sylvia and William had been saved.
“You gotta be kidding me.” Landon said with a growl and cocked the hammer of his pistol. He pressed the barrel against William’s forehead as shots rang around them.
Sylvia saw a glimmer in his dark eyes, afraid and not ready for death. Helpless panic seized her, more terrible than any firefight. “Wait!” She called out, but her collar was pulled back and her breath caught in her throat. She tried to pull away, tried to stand, but the woman behind her put a boot on her calf and pinned her in place. The world spun around, her heart racing and her ears ringing. Landon uncocked his pistol and returned it to his coat.
“Not today, Fishhooks.” Landon said with frustration and Sylvia felt a kick to her back, sending her to the ground.
The raiders ran from them and Sylvia crawled to William as he fell back. She held his neck in her hand and lifted his head. William gulped once and blinked. “You’re alive, it’s okay now.” Sylvia said, fighting back tears.
“Am I? For a second, I thought you were an angel.” William chuckled and smiled, his teeth red with blood.
“I’m a little too bloody for that.” Sylvia smiled and felt tears well in her eyes, but there was a warden patrol approaching. She placed William down and removed a roll of bandages from a pouch on her belt. She tore off a strip and held it against her nostrils, before meeting the incoming patrol. They were G Company men, judging by the emblems on their uniforms.
The warden in the lead looked her up and down, but Sylvia spoke first. “I am Captain Sylvia of F Company. This man is Captain William of G Company.”
“The captain?” The lead warden looked over to William, surprised, and nodded to Sylvia. “Sir.”
“I want you to hunt down those raiders and capture them. Failing that, kill them all. When you’re done, say nothing to anyone and go directly to me.”
“Yes, sir.” The warden led his unit away to pursue Landon and his raiders.
Sylvia held her head back, letting her blood drain back into her throat, as she helped William sit up as he struggled to lift himself off the ground. “How are we going to explain all of this?”
“By telling the truth. We left the camp because latrines are still being dug out. Outside of camp, we were alerted to suspicious activity nearby. We investigated and were ambushed by raiders. Thankfully, one of our patrols rescued us.”
“No-name raiders. They can’t know it was Landon.” Sylvia said and William nodded. “There would be a panic if anyone found out that the Overboss of the Hounds traveled this far into Warden territory.” Sylvia seated herself beside William, removed the bandage from her nose, and let her head hang. Blood flowed from her nose, but slower as it began to clot. “If he gets away, we’ll have to tell someone.”
“Do we?”
“Yes, Landon was here for information. He was questioning us, if you recall." Sylvia pointed to her bloodied face, then William's own. "If he saw the state of our companies, then he knows how weak we really are. Lives will be in danger.”