“The Fletchers Nyqvist” went through several variations before finally getting published by Kazka Press. They were originally the Kaufmans, then briefly the Nybergs, before settling in as the Nyqvists. But always fletchers, always living in post fracture NewDC, always fated to free the slaves.
Here’s an excerpt from the middle of the story (for a change):
The Fletchers Nyqvist
The stars and stripes once again flew above Fort Harper. For seventeen minutes and twenty-three seconds.
Trouble arrived on horseback, accompanied by an armored Toyota, an ’18 Prius hybrid that had long since been converted for military use. A Gulf War III vintage M60 was mounted over the sunroof. The rebels had two companies of cavalry, one wielding sabers and the second armed with bows like Mongolian horse-archers.
“Trap!” yelled Yolanda to her militia troops, “Fall back to the bluff.”
“Fatima, take the flank,” ordered Hector. The young lieutenant withdrew her cavalry to the west of town. “Peter, crank up your antique peashooter,” he added, then dropped into the tall grass and vanished.
Peter clambered into the back of the Dodge and manned the Gatling gun. He turned the newly forged crank, spewing hundreds of invaluable bullets at the cavalry charge. Flight after flight of arrows followed in retaliation, along with a spray of shells from the armored Prius and a Molotov cocktail. He was thrown from the Dodge by the blast with a shredded left leg and an arrow of his own making embedded in his right arm. After crawling halfway under the truck, he applied pressure to the gaping wound in his leg with his one good hand. The Prius turned its attention and machine gun to Yolanda’s troops digging in on the bluff, albeit at an ammunition conserving rate of fire.
The entire story can be found online at Kazka Press.