The Time Rippers Book 1 by Pete Bertino - HTML preview

He let go of AM and started toward the room, but Percy grabbed him by the arm pulling him back roughly.

“Ya not goin ya sneaky fucker.” Percy said vehemently.

“Why ain't I?” Wally asked hotly.

“Cause yer a dirty thief! Stealin from Darkstar is what ya plannin.

Let's see ya fuck my sister without yer cock, he'll cut if off for ya.”

“Ivan's runnin the show here, he wouldn't give a flyin fuck if I pocket me some shinny coin.” he turned from Percy to start for the room when Percy grabbed him by the arm again.

“Ya not...” Percy said pulling out his revolver.

“Ya wanna play Billy the Kid? I'll show ya how to ya black toothed bastard!” he said pulling out his pistol from behind his back.

“Ya believe this dirty fuck.” Percy laughed and turned around to ask AM if he believed it, but he was gone.

They both looked up and down the hall but AM had gone while they argued about who would go in first.

“Oh cocksucker! Ivan'll peel our skin off, where'd he go,Wally?” he said in a whiny tone.

“Shut it.” Wally said peering behind Percy. “What's that?”

Percy turned and saw a moldy couch behind them, sitting on one of the moss covered cushions was a small square object with wires sticking out of it. They approached it with wonder like children finding a shiny new toy and saw their reflections in its tiny black glass screen with red numbers counting down, there was three seconds left.

“What's this...” Percy tried to ask before being consumed by the explosion.

Ivan sat above ground chewing on a twig from a birch tree, the sweetness reminded him of a soda he had at a drug store when still a child. The red head sat across from him looking down between his knees with a scowl.

“Not ta worry, yer little blond peach'll be fine if yer friend gives us what we want.”

He might do that too, he was in a good mood today, the gold would be just the beginning, he had plans. Wally and Barty were aware of what he was planning, Percy though was the captains lap dog. He brought him along so as not to arouse the captains suspicion, but he would have an accident on the way back, him and the short man called Abe. He was going to take most of the gold for himself, and use it to build his alliances once Darkstar was out of the way.

They weren't the only raiders, Manhattan Island corsairs had more men and bigger ships with bigger guns. Darkstar was only worried about his own backyard, Ivan wanted more, he was the one who led the raids into the military forts years earlier, having long bloody battles with defunct soldiers from an older generation that still saluted a flag. He returned from all the battles bloodied and bruised but victorious, and every time with a booty of guns and ammunition, enough to have a second Great War.

All they did was raid farms and merchants anymore, then spend all Winter counting everything until they were blue in the face and freezing. He smiled thinking about having the eastern sea board for himself, the Republic of Ivan the Terrible. A cold smile touched his lips, he looked and saw the red head cringing at that smile. He would make...before he could finish his thought an explosion shook the ground under them.

“WHAT THE FUCK!!” Ivan shouted trying to stand.

Smoke and dust and bog water shot through the hole in a  mountainous geyser, showering both of them in putrid water. The trees and nearby remnants of houses shook as the ground started to collapse under them, the hole AM led the pirates down began to widen. Ivan ran in the direction of the forest, forgetting about the gold and his republic. Danny ran back to where they entered the depot in the opposite direction, looking over his shoulder watching the earth crack open like an egg shell and swallow everything in its path.

Danny felt the ground under his feet shake like windows during a storm, he kept running until he reached the quarantine wall. He turned around and watched as the majority depot collapsed into the swamp below sending more smoke and water high into the air and covered his ears from the deafening roars of concrete and steel grinding and pulverizing itself into the water below.

Ivan was in grass knee high, running as fast as he could which was not fast enough, he could feel the ground shimmying under him like he was drunk. He ran for an elm tree that grew a few yards away hoping it would be strong enough to stay up. The grass and dirt around it sunk revealing its gnarled roots, the tree slowly began to lean over as he climbed higher, he lost his grip when it finally broke free of of the ground and landed in the water deep underground, rolling away from the tree before it could crush him.

“TRICKY LITTLE SHIT!!!” he shouted as loud as he could with a mouthful of blood.

A branch he had been holding before he fell broke from the tree and he landed on it, puncturing a lung through his rib cage, he wanted to gag from the smell of the water but it hurt to talk or breath. He turned over and pulled the branch out of him with a gurgled scream. His leg was twisted in a strange position with a shard of bone sticking through.

He tried to pull himself away from the tree but the ground was too slippery to support his good leg. He sat up against a wall looking left or right for his machine gun but it was gone. His pistol and grenades were still there, though they were soaked from the water he now sat in.

Blood squirted out of the gory hole in his body when he coughed, making the water all around him red. The rest of the ground collapsed around him in a mighty roar that made his ears hurt. After a few minutes the ground stopped moving and the only sounds were from popping and snapping of flames somewhere close by. He turned his head every which way looking for a way to crawl out when he heard a squeak-growl.

The smoke and fire had driven the rats out of their nests, three approached him slowly, teeth bared their rubbery tails swishing like frisky cats. He pulled out his revolver and put it to his head, but when he pulled the trigger the bullet didn't fire. With a hideous smile he tossed the gun at them and pulled out a knife.

“Come ta me you green eyed fuckers!”

Danny stood still, waiting for the noise and shaking to stop, when it did he walked back but froze when a scream pierced his ears.

“Please Lord I hope that wasn’t good old Abe.” 

When the screaming stopped, he began approaching cautiously, in the distance a fire was smoldering sending clouds of gray smoke high into the air. The hole was hundreds of feet wide now, the trees and few houses that were still standing when they arrived had sunk down into the swamp, he got to the poles before he had to stop to keep from falling in.

“Abe! Abe!!” he cried but heard no response.

Not knowing what else to do he dropped to his knees and prayed.

“St. Anthony, patron saint of the lost. Ya helped Abe find George, I need ya to help me find Abe.” he said with closed eyes.

Before he could finish his prayer he heard a wet sloshing sound as a putrid stink filled his nostrils. He looked up and there stood AM, soaking wet with a shallow cut on his head. He was quiet just watching him pray, Danny got up and picked AM up like he was George in a bear hug.

“Abe!! Your alive, Holy Mary Mother of God, thank you!” he shouted. “Ugh, you stink like a fish though.” he said putting him back down.

“Yes, thank you for noticing. You OK?” he asked rubbing the cut on his head.

“Yeah, but what the hell happened? It was like the end times.”

“They got to arguing so I set off a bomb and walked as quickly and quietly as I could. I thought thirty seconds would be long enough for me to get out, I guess forty five seconds would have been better.”

“A bomb? How did ya get a bomb?” he said with wonder.

“Enough questions. We have to get back to the others.”

“How? Their not just gonna let us walk in with out their friends and give back ours.”

He was right, he was lucky those two had started arguing. If they hadn't he might have been killed when they didn't find gold in that room. If they started back now it would be dark when they returned, they could use that to their benefit.

“I'm not sure. I think better on the move, come on.”

Joe walked along the river with a bottle of vodka in his hand, he didn't know where he was going. He had drunk a whole bottle when he decided to take a boat and go to the trading post and traded half loaf of bread for another bottle. He looked at all the people that were around him, they had a hunted look he had seen when still helping his daddy ferry people back in Georgia. His daddy always took them over, even when they didn't have much, his daddy was a good man.

He left the trading post and passed the orphanage they raided last night, where he tied his boat nearby. Darkstar was furious they didn't come right back, Barty was getting all of the captains fury. He didn't trust either one of them and was sure something was up, Joe laughed without feeling the humor. None of them trusted each other, they trusted him, but only because he was a lush who could pilot a ship.

He took a piece of bread from his pocket and took a bite, it was white and flavorless leaving a filmy after taste, so he tossed it away. A seagull swooped down and grabbed it quickly then flew off before any others could claim it. He absently  followed the rivers eternal path for hours.

When the sun was red and slipping below his sight line he came across a large fence that had fallen to the ground years ago. It was knotted up in weeds and vines, the smell of salt and oil was thick in the air. He lifted up the fence, on it was a sign that was faded but still ledge able.

PHILADELPHIA NAVY YARD

He walked passed a building that was missing its face, making it look like a concrete jack o' lantern with too many eyes. The salt in the air had eaten most of building after many years.

“Salty air can eat anything” he said before taking a long swallow from his bottle.

He passed the building and many others like it that were crumbling away to nothing and came to a pier which held a ghost fleet of ships still anchored, as if waiting for orders that would never come. His eye's opened wide at the sight of so many boats.

“No, ships.” he slurred.

There was a dozen muted gray ships sitting in the water taller than anything he had ever seen, he knew the difference between them from the pictures his daddy showed him when a boy. He wished he could pilot one of these monsters, but you needed more than one person to make it go and years of training he didn't have. He walked passed them eyeing them respectfully taking a few minutes to study each one. There was no way to get in them, the gangways had long since washed away.

He swallowed another mouthful as he passed a ship that was not part of the ghost fleet. His daddy had a picture of one just like it, they were called tankers. It was as long as one of the battleships but not as high and adorned with barnacles on its hull that was a rust color.

“You see, son” his daddy told him when Joe was still in short pants. “they carry oil, millions of gallons. It's big but you need only one man to pilot her.”

“Can you pilot it daddy?” he asked with wide eyed wonder.

“Even you could my boy.” he said ruffling his hair.  

He looked at the huge ship, the words United States were still visible near the top of the hull just below the deck. It was close enough to the pier for him to touch it, its steel felt warm from the sun. He walked along it hand outstretched, his daddy said he could pilot it. That would make his daddy proud of him, to pilot a real ship.

“Captain, a real ship.” he said feeling a little better.

AM and Danny were walking along the river when AM spied something floating in the water.

“Is that a boat?” AM asked pointing to the pole he had first seen when he brought George home.

They walked over and tied to a length of rope was a gunmetal colored row boat with two paddles.

“Looks it, what ya got in mind?”

“Maybe a raid of our own.”

It was dark when AM and Danny returned to the orphanage, a wild dog was pulling at Sister McDevitt's arm. Danny shouted at it swinging a burned out torch left behind by the pirates.

“Go ya dirty be frigged mutt!!” he shouted picking up a rock and finally scaring the dog away.

His eye's were welling up while he shouted at it, he took a few deep breaths to regain control, AM covered her body with a blanket while still thinking of a plan. If he had another bomb he might be able to cause a distraction or at least fuck up their day, as Dig might have said.

Dig had one, he hoped he didn’t have to use it since the thought of blowing them up seemed like a good idea at the time. But from what AM had learned from that book about the plague it was the worst thing he could have done. AM went to the wash room to try and remove the stink from himself. 

He looked out the window and saw Danny with the sister's body out behind the chapel, he was kneeling over her praying with tears in his eyes. They didn't have much time, soon the crew on the island would become curious why their friends weren't back yet. He left the wash room and went to the kitchen to find a quick bite for him and Danny, the lingering scent of bread Sister McDevitt and Penny had baked, made him frown.

They did pretty good without having a cookbook, he thought. He thought about that word, cookbook. It flew around his mind like a helium balloon that got untied. Cookbook, what did Quake say about a cookbook that made it stick in his brain. His thoughts were racing too fast they were in chaos, his mind was in total...

“Anarchy. The Anarchist Cookbook.” he said.

Of course, it was a bomb making manual. Quake used it to build the time bombs. He went to his room and got out the Qpad and selected books. It was there among the collection, he didn't like the idea of having it on his Qpad it would seem suspicious to say the least.

There was a list of all kinds of bombs to make, but he was short on some ingredients. Most could be made with a few everyday things from like cleaning supplies. He quickly skimmed though it until he came across something called Poor Mans C-4.

It was just a few items mixed with a little bit of water and gun powder, but the book promised a big explosion. AM couldn’t find anything else they he could probably make and figured ‘Poor Mans C-4’ would have to suffice. Danny came in as dark purple clouds rolled in from the east, his eye were red but dry.

“So what now?” he asked looking tired and dirty.

“I try and make a bomb, where does Sister Eva keep the rifle?”

“In the chapel, it's locked but I know where she keeps the key.”

He brought him the rifle and a box of shells. He emptied the shells with a Swiss army knife from his backpack.

“That’s a funny little tool you got their.” he said.

“We live through this you can have it, you'll never know how you lived with out one.”

Thunder rolled outside, startling them both. He was going out on the water and hoped the storm would blow over. He spent an hour making the C-4 and the wick to ignite, it was the size of his palm and felt like clay when he was finished.

“Is that a bomb?” Danny said looking doubtful. “It looks like a lump a dough.”

AM found a pack of matches in his pack, he put them and the C-4 in the plastic baggy he used to hold his granola bars. They went back to the river where the boat sat. AM got in an tossed out a bottle that smelled like a rotten potato, while Danny untied the rope from the pole.

“Here you go,” he said tossing him rope.

A bolt of lightning crashed down on the river a mile away, it was purple and bright enough to hurt their eyes, a roar of thunder followed a half second later, rain slowly began to fall as if on cue.

“At least they wont have any bon fire's.” Danny said looking pastier then usual.

AM nodded but didn't say anything, the lightning would be the least of his worries tonight. He felt anxious to be off but waited for a minute to gather his wits and put the baggy deep in his pocket, wondering if he should have taken the knife. He wanted to try and sneak over and get everyone out under the cover of darkness. He wasn't sure he could kill someone no matter how badly they might deserve it.

“Abe,” Danny called to him. “let me go with you I was the one who asked you to get Penny her birthday gift. And meanin no offense, but I could get us their faster.”

“No, I'm to blame for this. None of this is your fault, I could have said no. Besides I don't think more than eight or nine could fit in this thing at once. Wish me luck.” he said and began the mile long journey to Petty's Island.

“Hey!”

AM looked back at him standing their looking mature in body but he sounded as scared.

“Be careful, Mr. Lincoln.” he said with as much courage as he could muster.

He gave Danny a quick nod and started paddling again, his stomach filled with butterflies. He wished he could have taken Danny with him, but AM was the adult and could no more take him than he would George. It was hard going, the current tried to send him south, the river was strong, the rain, still only a light patter was soaking him. A breeze picked up making him shake like a rattle. As he got closer to the island, the darkness began to envelop him.

He was playing it all by ear, their looked to be only one entrance and it was always in use during the day. He wanted to try and find a different way in, but was afraid of taking too long and decided to forgo looking for a back entrance. They might not hear him with the thunder pounding loudly and rain putting out any fires, but he was afraid his luck would run out before the night was over.

After what felt like hours, he came to a sunken tug boat that was covered in coral. It was slanted enough for him to grab and hold on to one of its rails. He quickly uncoiled the rope and tied the row boat to its rail. When it was secured he sat in the row boat to catch his breath, his arms felt like they were on fire and were about to fall off.

It was another five or ten yards to the beach the water was low enough so that he could walk. He got to dry land and looked up at the tower closest to him, he couldn't see the sentry, but he could hear shouts from above him. He ran to the wall and stayed close as possible to it while he quickly made his way around, afraid to spend all night in the dark looking for a back entrance that may not exist.

Weak firelight was coming from the front, he got with a few feet when he heard a voice. He pushed himself against the wall as a pirate wearing Sister Eva's habit came out in a drunken stupor, he shouted in AM's direction making him freeze.

“Hey, you!”

AM was about to run when the sentry in the tower above him answered..

“What ya gabbin on about now you ugly fuck?” said the sentry.

“I told ya I'd get that funny hat of hers, now gimme a bottle.”

A hoarse laughter rang out from above, AM watched as the man put his hands up in the air as if to catch a baseball. The pirate had look of joy on his face until the bottle landed squarely on his head but amazingly didn't shatter. The drunk fell down with a thud and didn't get back up while hoarse laughter came from above.

AM waited but the pirate didn't move, though he let out an extremely loud fart. Laughter started to bubble up his throat, he didn't usually laugh at that kind of thing however the nervous energy rolling through him made him want to laugh hysterically, but he stifled it. He crept up to the opening and peaked inside, a few fires were burning but their didn't look to be anybody else around. No they wouldn't expect anyone to sneak in, he was probably the only person ever to do it.

Afraid the guards might spot him, he turned to the drunken pirate still laying on the ground. He crawled over to him, keeping an eye on the tower. Another bolt of lightning hit lighting up the entire beach, he froze waiting for the sentry to start shooting, but all was still quiet. He saw it was the one called Barty, his face was serene as blood dripped from his ear and scalp, he was out cold.

He pulled the drunk pirate by his feet and drug him closer to the wall, and removed his own shirt and put on Barty's, which smelled like his gym socks from his high school days. He took shallow breaths while wearing it, then he put on the habit he had been wearing.

He had a Colt Peacemaker and a short broad sword that was as big as he was. He knew he was unarmed but he felt great reluctance to take up arms. He detested violence and realized he’d probably shoot his foot or lose a finger wielding such a broad blade. With his stolen shirt and the habit on his head, he entered the island with only the make shift bomb.

“Gonna try an fuck the penguin again, Barty?” said the sentry who threw the bottle.

Feeling too angry for words, AM extended his middle finger back over his shoulder to the guard above.

“Ha! Pussy got your tongue do it?” he laughed, but said no more.

He stood  sort of still but swaying as well, as surveyed his surroundings. No one else was nearby and there appeared to be nothing but dirt and tin shacks that were not in use. The few fires burning were being put out by the rain which was coming faster. A hatch a few hundred yard down was glowing with light, AM made his way to it slowly trying not to draw attention to himself.

He got closer and heard laughing and screams, he had to keep himself from running as his stomach went into more knots that felt like fire. He came to the hatch and waited, but no one came out as voices faded. He stuck his head through, two men were walking away from him down a narrow hallway lined with sandbags and pillars of wood, the other direction was more of the same.

He jumped down and went in the direction the two men had come from. It went straight for a a few hundred feet, he kept an ear open for voices or cries but heard none. The hall turned to the right and stopped at a T junction.

At one end of the junction was an old wooden door that belonged to an out house, at the other end was a door that was also wood but looked stouter. He ran to the outhouse door placed his ear against it, and heard hushed voices coming from behind it and what sounded like a young girl crying. In the outhouse was were they kept prisoners apparently.

“Probably their idea of a joke.” he thought with disgust.

He pulled but it wouldn't budge, they weren't completely stupid unfortunately. Danny or Dig could have ripped it off with ease, but AM's arms felt like rubber bands that were wound up too many times. He would need to pry it open. He went the other direction, cursing himself for not bringing his knife and tossing the habit aside.

He left the junction and passed the rusty ladder, quickly moving down the hallway. After twenty feet it cantered to the right and he came upon an open door with bright light. Peaking in he caught sight of a stone fireplace and a wooden floor, as a vintage record player played a scratchy jazz tune. There were a half dozen pirates sitting on chairs with rickety tables of various styles and size, watching a brunette women and a red head who looked old enough to be a grandmother doing a strip tease.

Seeing he couldn't go that way, he went back to the ladder and up it. The rain was coming on like a downpour, he checked his pocket to make sure the baggy was still closed. Then he searched frantically on the ground in darkness for something to open the door. Rotten fruit and broken bottles were everywhere.

Then he remembered Barty's sword, it would do the trick. All the fires had gone out making it easier for him to sneak out unobserved. Barty still laid were he was, his tongue sticking out like a dog's. AM picked up the sword and had the urge to stab the pirate, but he held back.

“If you've hurt them, I may change my mind.” he said to the snoring pirate.

He picked up the sword with both hands and nearly fell over from its weight as he ran back to the hatch in the ground. He listened before going down, not hearing any voices he climbed in and ran as fast as he could back to the outhouse door. He took a deep breath and put the blade between the door and the jam, startled cries came from behind the door when he pushed. He had very little strength left, but pushed as hard as he could.

He felt every muscle in his body cry in protest, he gritted his teeth and ignored it, and kept pushing. He almost gave up until he heard the door groan, and grunted using all the strength he could muster. He heard a cracking sound and then felt the door opening like it had been kicked, causing him to fall to the floor inside the room.

Everyone cried out in fright, and stared at the pirate face down on the ground. When he stood up, their pale faces of fear changed to joy and relief. The room was lit with one candle burning pathetically in the corner, the smell of piss and shit made everyone green about the gills as Danny might have said.

“Where's Danny?” Penny asked her blouse had been torn open, her eyes swollen with tears,she was being held on one side by Sister Eva and Missy on the other, but she looked unharmed.

“Is he...”

“He's fine. I have a boat,” he went and closed the door before anyone came. “there's one problem. It may only fit so many of us, which means two trips.”

Penny smiled with relief and gave him a kiss on the lips making him blush like a school boy.

“No, Mr. Lincoln,” said Sister Eva. “there's a dock on the New Jersey side of the island they brought us in that way, they have three or four row boats.”

Seeing her without her habit, he could finally picture her as a young girl in love.

“God damn it, I knew I should've checked for a back door. Excuse, my language sister.” AM said with an awkward smile.

“I've heard worse than that today, Mr. Lincoln. Come, I’ll show you where their boats sit.”

They made their way up and out of the hole, the rain was curtain of water turning the ground into a muddy quagmire.

“Where did they take you in at?”

Sister Eva pointed in the opposite direction he came from, it was completely dark on the island, the rain had doused all the fires.

“Can you make your way in the dark, sister?”

“Yes, aren't you coming?”

“Go and I'll meet you there.”

Cries of no fell from everyone’s lips, Sister Eva tried to stop him.

“Mr. Lincoln...”

“I have to do something before we go, stay against the wall.”

He went back down the hatch and to the thick door opposite the outhouse door. This room was not locked, he opened it to a room that was lit by a kerosene lantern hanging on the ceiling, rows of crates stacked knee high filled the room. With no legible markings he went back to the outhouse and grabbed the sword to pry one open, what he saw made him inhale sharply.

They were filled with sixty millimeter mortar rounds of World War two vintage, he had seen from the many books he read on the subject. AM looked and saw a majority of the crates were filled with mortar rounds. There were a few hundred of them at least, and dozens upon dozens of shorter boxes. He opened one as saw they were filled with egg grenades.   

Without a second thought he removed the C-4 and stuck it to one of the crates. He didn’t know what he’d find behind this door but he figured this would be the best place to hit them and their weapon supply. His body shook with adrenaline, filling his ears with a loud white noise. So loud he didn’t to Bartelby approaching.

“What the fuck, is this my blade?” Bartelby asked with drunken humor.

He didn't know it was AM, so he gave what he hoped was a mischievous laugh.

“Uh...Aye, my buckoo. Just havin a little fun with a ya...” he said with strained enthusiasm.

He placed his hand on AM's shoulder to turn him, when he turned he balled his hand up and with his last bit of arm strength punched Barty. He was too drunk to withstand it and went down with a loud cry. He fumbled out the matches and lit the short wick and ran for the door, the drunk pirate grabbed his ankle not realizing what AM did.

AM got away and ran without looking back, despite his drunkenness Barty was up in a flash. Barty got a hold of AM’s collar as he reached the ladder, however a deep roar and a gust of hot wind came behind them knocking them both down. The whole island shook with the explosion, above ground sirens that belonged in a World War Two movie began to wail.

The captain of Petty's Island sat at his chair in his quarters attempting to stand a gold coin on end, but his hand shook with rage making it impossible. He didn't trust Ivan, he could see his intentions written on his face. He had the same look himself years ago when he took over the island after poisoning the previous captain's bottle with a toxin from a dark green starfish earning his moniker Darkstar.

He spent the last few hours drinking, and screwing an old red head who despite her age rode him like a twenty year old, helping him to forget his anger for a little while. When his rage was inflamed again, he sent Barty to guard the penguin and her bastards. Not that they need to be guarded, but he wanted to punish Barty.

He didn't trust Barty anymore than Ivan. He finally stood a coin up when barking laughter from down the hall startled him out of his thoughts making him knock it over.

“SHUT YER FUCKIN HOLES!!” he shouted vehemently.

They quieted down but their laughs could still be heard. He could have gone out there and broke that god damn scratchy music player. He could have shot the prisoners too.

“So why don't I?” he asked himself.

He felt his grip on his crew slipping, even that drunken pilot of his had gone off with out a word. He never took prisoners, but when Ivan told the men t