NOVELLA
The Trial Of Summary James — Chapter Nineteen
A great African nation has risen in North America. But something is… wrong: Chapter 19 of 20 in the novella.

Check out the links at the end of this story under “Notes” for additional chapters.
Chapter Nineteen
I tapped the earpiece again. “Hiawatha can you hear me?”
“Yeah brother, I can hear you.”
“Where are you?” I asked frantically, but not as frantic as when I saw Sonata die because this time, I was certain the target of my vision was not dead.
“Just outside the voodoo house,” he said.
“I think there’s a sniper on the roof. I just had another vision. And she’s not my girl.” Just so he knew I was serious.
“Oh my. Thank you. I’ll keep you plugged in. Talk me through the place once I get in. Where to find Alon.”
“He’s in the third room on the right down a hallway you’ll see when you get there. Three doors on each side, he’ll be in the third on your right. Don’t bother banging the others all down.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, I heard him giving some orders, but the words were not distinct. I heard several rounds of automatic gunfire a few minutes later. “Sniper is down,” he said soon after. “You were right. Holy Spiritland, you do have quite a gift.”
I heard lots of undiscernible commotion. Loud voices, instructions, cussing. A woman screaming, Hiawatha assuring me she’s okay, just scared, as she was getting pushed and locked into a room for her safety. Probably the front desk lady I had met.
The sounds mostly blended into one kerfuffle, except when a riff of automatic gunfire pierced through. Hiawatha cursed but not into the phone. “Man down,” his throat hurried before I heard a loud thud that sounded like full bookshelves falling. Hiawatha was cursing a lot, now, sounding concerned.
Footfalls. Running. “Zak!” he screamed, “two o’clock!” More cussing, more gunfire. It was like listening to a war movie in which you had no idea whose side was winning.
There was clearly a lengthy gun battle. Finally, silence. “I think that was Horse Luemba who just took a few rounds,” Hiawatha said within a series of gasping breaths through a voice sounding smothered and distant. “I think we lost a man, Longman, he’s not looking good from here.” A deep breath. “I see someone at the end of the hallway.”
After more harried noises, Hiawatha said to me, “There’s a little bald man running down the hallway in a white bathrobe. Got a little spot of black hair on the top of his head like it’s a mistake.”
“That’s probably Alon,” I said.
I heard more running. Even through the earpiece, I could sense the determination, the significance of the next moments. I could almost see Hiawatha signaling his men where to move. Next, the only obvious noises I could make out were the sounds of military-grade boots hitting the floor. A lot of them.
“Nowhere for you to go, Alon,” I heard Hiawatha say. “You are Philippe Alon, are you not?”
I could faintly hear Alon’s French accent say in its high-pitched voice, “Oui, now please remove these weapons. You are in a Synod registered congregation.” Hiawatha’s reply was swift and simple.
A long round of gunfire cut through my earpiece. “’Register this,” I heard Hiawatha say.

End of Chapter Nineteen
You can purchase the full novella for 99 cents here:
Table of Contents (links will appear as additional chapters are published daily on Medium):
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20
NOTES
This short novella was unplanned. I wrote it under my legal name way back in 2021. Side note: The pen name Charles Bastille originated after the publisher of MagicLand convinced me my name would not be SEO-friendly — I’m no longer convinced that matters and haven’t decided yet if I should publish additional works under the Bastille pen name.
The novella takes place in an alternative North America that celebrates diversity, avoided genocide, and corrected the mistakes of slavery as a side-effect of a failed Revolutionary War. As such, although no human endeavor can avoid tragic error, it takes place on a much less dystopian continent than our current experience.
The world represented here is much larger than can be conveyed in such a short book. This world is more fully represented in a trilogy called Restive Souls, which begins in the late 18th century. It is still in final edits.
But the main character of this novella, Longman Jones, told me he wasn’t willing to wait for me to finish that novel. Maybe that is in part because he makes no appearance at all in the larger work.
But he is a restive soul, and he needed to get out of my head. So I took a couple weeks off from the main novel way back in 2021, and wrote this, in hopes he’d shut up. I never really promoted it, but I’m starting to now a bit.
If you enjoy this novella, please let your friends know that for 99 cents they can spend a couple hours with Longman in a more egalitarian world than what they may be used to. It will make him very happy if you do.
For updates on the Restive Souls series, visit https://medium.com/restive-souls. Or subscribe to my newsletter fiction here (takes you to a site off the Medium platform).
Consider this short novella a teaser for the broader work. And if enough people like it, I suspect Longman Jones will also make another appearance or three.
Thanks for reading!

This story was written by a human, not by AI or Grammarly GO (More Info).
Copyright © 2020–2023 Charles White
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Cover design by: Charles White; cover image licensed from Adobe Stock
Published in the United States of America




