For A Few Souls More (Heaven's Gate Book 3) (12 page)

“You speak like the town’s a living thing,” said Elisabeth.

“Yes,” Forset admitted. “I do rather. I somehow feel like it is.”

4.

I
T TOOK THEM
some time to effect repairs. The Land Carriage had been through a fair ordeal over the last few hours, driven to breaking point, shot at and attacked by an angry mob.

The work was rough, they had little choice about that. This was not an engine yard and materials were limited to what they had onboard, or could salvage from the carriage they intended to abandon or pick up from the detritus left behind by the parties who had given up the plain. Windows that couldn’t be replaced were boarded up, holes patched, rough edges cut loose and made safe. The vehicle that took form over those hours, with the four of them working until the sun set and the moon rose over the plain, was an ugly thing. But the following morning, having forced himself to take a few hours’ sleep, Forset watched the dawn light pour itself over every harsh line and tatty edge and fell in love with it all over again. It seemed to him to be the perfect example of practicality over draftsmanship. His initial designs were just lines on paper, the beginnings of beauty; here was the real thing, hard, powerful and awe-inspiring.

“You’ll do,” he told it. “You’ll have to.”

Throughout the night, there had been further signs of life from Wormwood. Flashes of light as a slow traffic began to build in both directions, some of those on the plain gathering up a few belongings and setting out to explore its streets just as a few of those from the dominions beyond decided to step out and take a taste of mortal air.

After a hasty breakfast, they made the few final checks before setting off.

“Fuel is going to be our first problem,” said Billy. “She can burn pretty much anything and I’ve topped us up with whatever I can find that’s combustible. She’s designed to run more efficiently than a lot of commercial steam engines but we’ve still used two-thirds of our coke reserve and we really don’t want to grind to a halt in the middle of nowhere. If we see anything we can use we should get it onboard, I don’t want to be on the run and losing power.”

“Noted,” said Forset. “We’ll top up when we have the chance.”

“Food’s fine,” said William, who had checked the stores. “Now there’s just the four of us, our supplies will stretch a lot further.”

“We’re short on munitions,” said Elisabeth. “I’d like to think we wouldn’t need them but given where we’re going that’s probably naive.”

“Not that bullets were much use against that creature yesterday,” said Billy.

“No,” she admitted, “but knowing we have something with which to defend ourselves will make me feel safer.”

“Agreed,” said her father. “Perhaps Wormwood will be more than just the facade of a town? Maybe some of its stores will contain supplies we can use?”

“No harm in looking,” said William.

“I wonder if we’ll find Patrick?” said Elisabeth.

“I imagine the odds of us stumbling upon him are slim,” said her father, “though we owe it to him to try. If we can find someone in authority we can ask where the chosen were taken.”

“What an English answer,” joked his daughter.

“Yes, ‘if all else fails ask a policeman’. Still, it’s all we can do.”

Billy had lit the firebox, building up the pressure in the boiler. Once the gauge began to rise he called the others onboard and they moved out.

5.

B
ILLY COULDN’T HELP
but grind his teeth as they drew close to the edge of town. Judging the width of the street ahead, they had several feet of clearance on either side and there were no obstructions. The last time he had been this close, however, they had been rattling at an almost uncontrollable speed staring death in the face.

Forset was in the cabin with him and he patted the engineer on the shoulder. “Just take her in as slow as we can,” he said, “to be on the safe side.”

“Damn right,” Billy replied, taking her forward at a crawl.

The nose of the engine pierced the skin of Wormwood, what had once been an impenetrable barrier now a slick bubble that stretched and parted as they forced their way through.

On the other side of the barrier, the nose of the engine appeared as if out of nowhere, sending the gathered residents into a panic as they jumped clear, running onto the boardwalk or into the stores.

“What machines these mortals make,” announced one, an ancient demon which prided itself on the fact that it had sharpened its claws during the halcyon days of Torquemada’s Spanish Inquisition. It could barely flex those bamboo-like fingers these days, but sometimes it would tap a long, yellow nail against its sole remaining tooth and dream.

“It’s as loud as it is ugly,” announced another, flipping up its feet so the mouths on the souls of its feet could spit out their dust and join in the conversation.

“Horrid,” said Left.

“Abominable,” concurred Right.

In the Land Carriage, Billy and Forset were still unaware of the effect they were causing, inching themselves through the barrier. It was only as its surface passed over their heads, stretching momentarily at their faces with a tickle of static electricity, that they saw the street ahead as it actually was.

The Dominion of Circles had already expanded into Wormwood, mingling with the mortals from the outside, both groups eyeing each other warily.

The stores were opening for business, the saloons were pouring liquor and one enterprising young Incubus had already laid claim to the hotel that lay at the centre of main street.

“If there’s one thing people will always need,” it said, scratching at its permanently erect groin, “it’s beds.”

A family from Canada who had made the journey south to brush close to the celestial were sat on the boardwalk and watching the infernal parade.

“I like it here,” said the son, working his way through a bag of nuts so spicy they made him fear for his tongue, “the people are funny.”

“That they are,” his mother agreed, casting a surreptitious, admiring glance towards the Incubus.

“Well,” said the father, “I can’t say it’s what I had in mind but they don’t seem interested in doing harm.”

And this was the truth. Despite the caution evident on both sides, nobody raised a hand towards one another, curiosity won out over aggression. In Wormwood at least, it seemed the mortal and the mythical could co-exist just fine.

“What a place,” said Forset, his eyes wide and his mouth agape.

Billy could only nod as he pulled the engine all the way through, casting a glance behind to see how much further they had to go.

A group of children—at least Forset assumed they were children, given their size and exuberance—came running up to the engine and began climbing up it. They were spindly looking, their arms and legs flesh but jointed like those of an insect. Their bodies were smooth and as purple as a bruise, segmented and plump. Their faces were round and fat, cherubic if not for the cat-like whiskers that sprouted from beneath their stubby noses.

“Careful!” he shouted as one leaped onto the smoke box. “That’s hot!”

The creature stuck its face into the plumes of smoke and then turned to the others to show off its sooty grin. They all laughed, taking it in turns to repeat the trick. Soon the front of the engine was covered with soot-covered creatures laughing and choking in equal measure.

“They like your machine.” Forset followed the woman’s voice to find the children’s mother. She had the same basic physique but leaner, the fat spread out over an adult body, her face thinner and more refined. She walked along next to the Land Carriage, stopping as Billy applied the brakes, the rear carriage having finally cleared the barrier.

“It’s impressive,” he replied, feeling foolish saying such a thing when surrounded by such sights.

“It’s loud and smelly,” she said, “that sort of thing appeals to the young.”

“Right, yes.” He realised she was not being as complimentary as he assumed.

“We had no idea the town was so populated,” said Forset, fairly spinning around, trying to take in as much as he could.

“Well,” the woman said, “it would have been a waste to leave it empty after the barrier fell, wouldn’t it?”

“But that was less than a day ago.”

“Time moves differently between here and your mortal world,” she explained. “That’s half the reason I haven’t visited it as yet. I could come back to find my babies all grown.”

“So,” said Billy, “even though we’ve only been here a few minutes, hours could have passed back there?” He gestured back towards the barrier.

“Or days,” she shrugged. “I imagine as time goes on they will synchronise. As the Dominions merge fully with the mortal world. I’m no expert mind you, what do I know?”

She clapped her hands, calling for her children’s attention.

“Come come!” she called and they all jumped from the Land Carriage and followed their mother away into the crowds.

“It’s unbelievable,” said Elisabeth, she and William walking up to the engine to join Billy and her father. “Such creatures.”

“I think,” said a gruff voice behind them, “the term you’re looking for is ‘people’.”

She turned around to find herself face to face with a man who appeared to have a good deal of the canine in him. He stood upright but was covered in long, greying hair. Great tufts of it were escaping from the sleeves and collar of his jacket and the cuffs of his trousers. His mouth, though not quite a snout, certainly protruded further than would be normal and she could see he had fangs rather than teeth.

“Sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“Sweet cheeks,” he replied, “I’d listen to any old shit if it was coming out of a mouth as pretty as yours. For the sake of the peace though, I’ll have to ask you to mind your tongue.” He pointed to the large sheriff’s badge on the lapel of his jacket. “The name’s Biter and I’m the law around here.”

6.

F
ORSET WAS BY
no means sure how he felt about a dog in a suit flirting with his daughter. He came to the conclusion that he needed to let go of his old morals and sense of propriety. After all, such things were a product of one’s social rules and social rules fluctuated from one country to another. If there was one thing he could say with some certainty, breaching the barrier into Wormwood they had travelled much further in real terms than the scant few feet they had actually crossed. They were now in Shakespeare’s ‘undiscovered country’ and it was only logical that they would do things differently here.

Besides, if he argued, there was no guarantee the creature wouldn’t just bite his head off.

“I’m making it my business,” said Biter, “to welcome as many of the newcomers here as I can. This is a new world we’re stood on.” Forset couldn’t help but note the creature was mirroring his own thoughts. “And it’s my job to make sure people know the rules we all need to follow to make sure it ain’t drowning in blood and guts before it’s got through its first week.”

“Sounds fair enough,” said Billy, hopping down from the engine and moving to stand next to Elisabeth.

Biter noticed the man’s defensiveness. “Oh,” he said, with a grin, “the lady’s already got herself a man. Fair enough.” He gave her a wink. “Can’t blame an old dog for taking a sniff.”

“Sniff away,” she replied with a smile. Billy smiled too, because she hadn’t contradicted Biter’s assumption that they were a couple.

Biter chuckled with a sound like a cat trying to shift a hairball.

“Leave your machine there,” he said, “nobody’s going to steal it.”

“Are you sure?” Forset asked, looking around.

“Sure I’m sure. That’s the second of our rules. No stealing other people’s stuff.”

“What’s the first?”

“No killing,” Biter replied, before raising his voice and pointing to a creature leaning back against the wall of one of the stores, its body a mass of reptilian skin, several tentacles bursting from its voluminous gut and tapping on the ground in what appeared to be impatience. “However frigging hungry you are!”

He turned back to Forset’s party and rolled his eyes as if they would understand the ludicrousness of his predicament. “Walk this way, folks,” he said, “we’ll soon see you settled.”

“Well,” said Forset, “to be perfectly honest, we weren’t planning on staying. We didn’t think there was really anything here.”

“Nothing here? We’ve got ourselves a thriving little town!” Biter reached out and grabbed someone who had been running past. It was a boy of about fifteen, and Biter lifted him off the ground with no apparent effort. “Problem, kid?”

“There’s a thing in the general store,” the kid said breathlessly, “its stomach burst open and all these worms... purple and gold...”

“Oh,” said Biter, setting him back down, “sounds like one of the Annelides giving birth. No big deal. I mean, Abernathy will be mopping up after that son of a bitch for a week but they ain’t going to do no harm. Get a thicker skin, kid! You can’t have a hissy fit every time you see something new!”