77. Harding vs Tyler VII: No Peace for the Wicked

Years ago, Tyler sat on a rock a dozen miles south of the Whig’s main base. He looked at the golden pen in his hand, then brought it to his chest. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of Harrison’s blood along with the pulses of his pounding heartbeat.

“Oh, what I wouldn’t give for just a few tender moments of quiet reflection to myself,” he whispered, opening his eyes at the sound of footsteps approaching his position, “but I suppose there’s no peace for the wicked…”

He got off his rock, watching as the two approaching women stopped a few feet in front of him. The older member of the pair dressed in a rugged army uniform, while the younger wore a kimono and carried a curved spear in her hands.

“Jacqueline Taylor and Midori Fillmore,” Tyler declared, offering a light bow as he covertly slipped the pen back into his pocket. “I was hoping I might run into the two of you, for it seems there is much for us to discuss.”

“Discuss?” Taylor hissed, replacing her usual, neutral expression with a look of pure disdain. “There’s nothing for us to discuss. You broke the Law of the Land, and against your own ally no less!”

“Ally?” Tyler rubbed his chin with feigned confusion. “Why, what a curious of choice of words for you to use. After all, I don’t personally recall myself ever officially declaring myself to be a member of the Whigs.”

Fillmore rolled her eyes and passed a lazy hand through her hair.

“Why don’t you save your petty sophistry for someone who cares. After all…” she pointed her spear towards him, “…whatever you say now won’t change the fact that we’re cutting you down.”

“Oh my,” Tyler put a finger to his mouth, “those certainly are some bold claims for you to make…” he curled his lips into a vile smirk, “…let’s see if you can back them up…”

Taylor and Fillmore crouched down, then sprung ahead in unison at their opponent. Tyler tightened up his smile as they approach.

“Executive Power…” he whispered between a deep inhalation of air, “Inaugural Address!”

A blast of sonic energy shot out of Tyler’s mouth. Taylor, normally quick to act, froze stiff as the burst of air hurtled towards her.

“Impossible…” she murmured, “that’s…”

“Taylor!” Fillmore screamed, grabbing onto Taylor and yanking her to the side, causing the sound to just graze the top of Taylor’s right arm.

“Too slow!” Tyler screeched. He lunged ahead, slashing his claws across Taylor’s extended arm, severing it off with a single swipe. Tyler skidded himself to a halt, turning back to his opponents, licking the fresh blood off his fingers.

Taylor looked to Tyler, then back to the stub where her arm used to be.

“…so that’s why you did it…” she mumbled, her mind lost in thought as blood continued to pour out of her, “…that’s why you killed Harrison…you…you…”

Fillmore slapped Taylor across the face.

“Snap out of it!” she hissed, tearing off her sleeve and wrapping it around Taylor’s injury. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but we can’t win like this…let’s just fall back for now and chase Tyler down again after regrouping with our troops.”

“…no…” Taylor whispered softly, regaining her composure as she stood back to her full height. “Tyler’s not just going to let us go back in peace…after all…he purposefully led us here so that he could kill us.”

“What?” Fillmore looked between Taylor and Tyler. “Why would he do something like that?”

“There’s no time to explain,” Taylor pushed Fillmore aside. “You need to go back and warn every President to stay clear of Tyler from now on, and that they should never, ever, face him with the aid of an army behind them! In the meantime…” she glared at Tyler, “…I’ll hold him here as best I can.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Fillmore snapped, pointing to Taylor’s severed arm, “I can’t just leave you here like this!”

“You will,” Taylor hissed. “If Tyler kills both of us, then it won’t just be the end of the Whigs…it will be the end of the nation at large.”

Fillmore crossed her arms, refusing to move from her position.

“Fillmore,” Taylor snarled. “I order you to retreat!”

Fillmore stared a bit longer, then let out a sigh.

“…you know,” she muttered, passing a hand through her messy hair, “you’ve never given a damn about me before this…” she looked over Taylor, staring deep into her burning, hazel eyes. “…which is why I know just how serious you are right now.”

She looked back to Tyler.

“…fine…I’ll go. But I’m going to ask you for one thing in return…”

Fillmore patted Taylor’s back, then made a break for it towards their base.

“…try not to die!”