Men will eventually worship you, John, Nyarlathotep whispered. You will indulge in every vice and encourage them to sin against all convenience. Assuming, of course, you live long enough to become a monster lesser beings will revere. I suppose when humans are extinct, you can force rabbits and worms to pray to you.
I ignored the demon in my ear.
“This is a nice place,” Mercury said, looking out the side window of the Hummer. “I wonder if they’re receiving blessings on their crops.”
“I suspect it’s more the ample number of underground springs in this area,” August said, shrugging. “It’s possible to use magic to bring blessings down from the spirits of the Dreamlands or the psychic dreams of the Great Old Ones, but that’s a bit like using a nuclear bomb to dig a well. Do you know what a nuclear bomb is?”
“I’m not from a village of savages, August,” Mercury muttered. “I grew up in the Remnant.”
“Now, see, that’s an oxymoron,” August said, opening the back door and heading on out into the bright sunlight.
Bobbie followed him.
“Do you think you can walk, John?” Mercury asked. “That Reanimated did a pretty bad number on you.”
I gave a short nod, pushing myself up. “I have confidence in August’s healing magic.”
“You should, it cost you five years of your life,” Mercury muttered, looking away.
“Mercury …”
“Are we in this together or not?” Mercury asked, looking at me. “I want to know.”
I stared at her, wondering what life would be like if things had not taken the turn they did. Could we have had a family together? We did, after a fashion. Yet I’d never been able to fully commit to her. I wanted to blame the invasive nature of my condition, but I wondered how much of that was excuses.
My transformation hadn’t helped matters between us, of course, but I’d made a royal mess of things in all my previous relationships. My wife Martha had come to despise me. The Dunwych Katryn had wanted to bear my children, but I’d come to hate her and we’d ultimately tried to kill one another.
“We are in this together,” I said, staring at her. The sunlight was glittering off her beautiful red hair and I wanted to hold her. Despite how bad things had gotten, I wanted to make it right between us.
For what little time I had left. I had the promise of hope with the Yithian’s “cure,” but I didn’t trust them, nor was it likely we’d succeed in this mission. It was a fool’s hope that guided me, but really that was all humanity had left.
“I love you,” I said. “I don’t want you to ever think otherwise.”
“I won’t.” Mercury paused, then leaned over and kissed me on the lips. I kissed her back, hungrily. If not for the company and the fact that events were of a rather pressing importance, I would have taken her right there in the back seat of the Hummer. A new hunger had awakened within me and I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. For the first time in months, life felt like living again. I didn’t know if it was because I’d almost died back in that cave with the Reanimated, because the world was ending, or because having spent an eternity as poor, tormented R’thugh’cruan, it was now quite hard to take my earlier angst seriously.
Maybe all the above.
Mercury broke away. “OK, let’s go meet the degenerate subhumans.”
“I heard that,” Bobbie said, having returned to the front seat. She was growling now. “You—”
“I meant farmers.” Mercury rolled her eyes. “Not Deep Ones.”
Bobbie just stared at her.
Mercury said, “I was born on a farm.”
“Uh-huh,” Bobbie said, not the slightest bit amused.
“Cow tipping. Sex in the barns. Backbreaking labor. It’s why I was glad I tested out of it,” Mercury said. “They’re the same everywhere, no matter the species. At least from my experience.”
Stopping to put on a shirt, jacket, and other clothes, I was ready within minutes. Mercury had been kind enough to make sure fresh clothing was stored beside me in the back along with the rest of my things. I also made sure to strap on my pistol and put a shotgun over my shoulder. Weapons were a threat, yes, but they could also dissuade people here from rash action and keep the body count low.
Sliding out of the back of the Hummer, I took a breath of the air. Most of it was coming from the ocean and surprising in its freshness. Much of the ocean’s sea life had been destroyed by the Rising, mutated by the Great Old Ones, or killed by the amount of pollution from so many cities falling into it. Yet somehow, life had survived, and a hundred years had returned sea creatures to it. I wasn’t about to go swimming, though.
“Is it safe to be this close to the ocean?” I asked Bobbie. “I mean, if the orthodox Deep Ones want to kill them?”
“If they don’t know where they are, they’re safe,” Bobbie said. “Anyway, where is safe on this planet?”
“The grave,” Mercury muttered.
Looking to the other Hummer, I saw Jessica, Thom, and August getting out to join our group. We were a subject of idle curiosity by several of the passersby, perhaps because we were heavily armed strangers. Bobbie’s presence seemed to calm them, though, and they were more welcoming than many communities in the Wasteland. After all, they hadn’t started shooting at us the moment we arrived.
Looking for a village headman, mayor, or just general dictator, I didn’t see anyone come to meet us. That itself was even more unusual.
“I don’t like it,” Thom said, looking around. “It’s too quiet. This is going to be one of those towns where we get a room and then the entire town comes to kill us.”
“Does that happen to you often?” Jessica asked.
“More times than I can count,” Thom said, nodding.
“More than your fingers and toes?” Jessica said. “Impressive.”
Thom shot her a dirty look.
Mercury, Bobbie, and I all sniggered. I looked over at a nearby building, which appeared to be a boarding house of some kind—though I couldn’t imagine them getting many visitors given how people in the Wasteland reacted to the mixing of species. I decided that was the best place to get some answers. With any luck, we’d find a lead on Marcus Whateley. It was too much to hope he might still be staying in the village. Our luck just wasn’t that good.
The building was four stories tall, towering over most of the others, with a staircase built onto the side and several rooms on each floor with separate doors. It was painted a pale shade of canary yellow and looked harmless. Walking over, we passed by a stone church, or temple, with Deep One religious symbols carved into the walls. The major Great Old Ones were depicted, but so inoffensively that the one of Cthulhu looked like it was going to roll over so you could scratch its belly.
Of note, the icons of the Dead God Dagon and Mother Hydra were missing from the depiction. This was an interesting absence, as they were the ones most associated with Deep One fertility. Given the role Dagon and Hydra played in Deep One national identity, I wondered if their absence was related to their being outcasts from their race. It would explain the prominence of Vastarara in their religion. They didn’t worship the Elder Gods, though, which was interesting given how Bobbie had indicated she’d converted most of her inland race.
“A penny for your thoughts, John?” Mercury asked, walking beside me.
“Just contemplating socio-political-religious implications of the architectures.”
“Fine, don’t tell me,” Mercury muttered.
I smiled. As we reached the base of the hotel, we saw two young blonde-haired girls about eight and eleven playing with dolls on the porch. Both girls had sunken, sallow eyes, stringy hair, scaly skin, and webbed fingers.
The transition of Deep One hybrids was something that couldn’t be measured on a strict time scale, as some children began transforming from near birth while the majority did not begin their change until near their thirties. I’d learned quite a bit about their race after befriending several of the hybrids who’d been e
nslaved by the now-extinct Marsh family back in Kingsport. There’d been a time I’d have looked upon them with disgust, but time was eroding my once deeply held beliefs. Now, I just saw children.
“Hello, children.” I spoke to them in what was hopefully a soothing voice. Much to my annoyance, I found my voice sounded different. It was deeper now, gravellier. I wondered if I hadn’t noticed this transition in the car because of my weariness. “Is your mother or father around? We would like to speak with them.”
“Yeah, and while you’re at it, do you remember a nine-foot-tall giant passing through here? Possibly plotting the end of the world?” Thom asked, standing behind me.
Mercury put her hand to her face while Jessica muttered, “Jesus, Thom.”
“Just trying to speed things along, hombres.” Thom acted like he didn’t have a care in the world. I’d met plenty of men like him in the past. They didn’t care if they lived or died and while they often didn’t live long, people tended to fear them for the duration. He was good enough to survive in spite of his attitude.
The two girls exchanged a glance as if deciding whether to tell a secret. The oldest then said, “Our mother doesn’t talk to strangers. As for the giant—”
“You’ll have to talk to me about him,” a deep baritone voice said at the hotel front door.
Stepping through a screen door was a chocolate-skinned man as tall as me, and I was one of the biggest men I knew. He had even wider muscles, with his shirt sleeves being cut at the shoulders, revealing powerful biceps. The man kept his head shaved and was wearing a pair of faded denim overalls. There was no sign of Deep One hybridization with him or inhuman ancestry of any sort. He lacked what, in New Arkham, was described as the Taint.
August gave an appreciative stare. “Hello.”
“We were just talking to the strangers, Pa,” the older of the two little girls said.
“I know, sweetie,” the big man said. “You go on into the motel. Check on your mama downstairs.”
“Yes, Pa,” the two girls said, at once exiting through the screen door.
“Adopted, I take it?” Thom asked.
“Seriously?” Jessica looked at Thom in disbelief.
“I’m just saying,” Thom said, shrugging.
“I’m human, yes,” the big man said, surveying us. “Though from where I’m standing, most of you don’t have a leg to stand on in that regard.”
“Being human is overrated,” August replied, staring at him. “I intend to change it as soon as I find an immortal form I like.”
“John Henry Booth,” I introduced myself, gesturing to the others. “These are my associates—”
“I know who you are,” the big man said.
I blinked. “You do?”
“Some of you are quite famous,” the big man replied. “Even up here. Bobbie knows me, though, and she’s been a friend to Insmaw for some time.”
“Then maybe she should do the talking,” I said, muttering.
“Maybe,” the big man said. “My name is Joe. Farmer Joe.”
“Isn’t that confusing since most people are farmers here?” Mercury asked, looking around.
“No, the other Joes are a carpenter and a drunk,” Joe said, putting his hands in his overalls. “Since you’re traveling with Bobbie, I take it you don’t intend to try and kill us all like the Remnant and Dagonites have?”
“No,” I said, firmly.
“Hey man, if you want to fuck fish, it’s your own damn business,” Thom said.
“Please ignore everything that comes out of his mouth,” I said, sighing.
“We’re certainly doing so,” Bobbie said, smiling.
“My wife’s a wonderful woman,” Joe said, his eyes never leaving us. “I grew up in the Remnant, a gun pointed at my head every day, men telling me what to plant and where before taking damn near all of it at harvest time. Here, it’s different. You earn what you sow. My wife and I may look different, but what passes between us in the dark ain’t none of your concern.”
“Again.” Thom raised his hands. “I agree.”
I was unsure how to respond. “What Thom said?”
“Good,” Joe said, nodding. “Because we know the stories of you aren’t all that kind to nonhumans too—hypocrisy of that aside.”
I looked into Joe’s eyes and got a sense of the threat implied in there. Looking around, I also saw the rooftops were now manned by men concealing themselves, all wielding rifles. The pleasant atmosphere had been disarming, but there were enough people around us to take us all down before we could move.
Impressive.
“Mercury, do you have my knife?” I asked.
“Sure.” Mercury handed me the golden handle of it. The weapon had been missing from my pocket since the University’s ambush.
Joe stared at me.
I cut my hand and let blood dribble on the ground. “You have my blood promise as a man accepted as a Dunwych warrior, a Remnant soldier, a Kingsport citizen, and a father. I could swear by what gods I believe in, but more than their disapproval, I swear by my own code that I mean to bring you and your people no harm.”
“You left a lot of those behind from what I hear,” Farmer Joe said. “However, I believe the last one. You came here for Marcus, I take it?”
“We did,” I said.
“He ain’t here,” Farmer Joe said. “However, he paid for your rooms and left you something to read in them. He also told me to tell you f’thanr f’arha zhaal cuttlah al mudah.”
Bobbie’s eyes widened.
So did mine.
“For those of us who don’t speak gibberish?” Mercury asked.
Farmer Joe said, “It translates rough-like from the language of Key’thu’loo’s race as Get out of here while the getting’s good.”
I’d heard it as Leave this place or doom shall fall upon you, but I supposed the sentiment was the same.
Too bad I no longer took orders well. Threats less so. “Show us to this message.”
Chapter Nineteen
Our group followed Farmer Joe, walking up the staircase to the fourth floor. We were passing the second floor at present, Farmer Joe walking a few steps ahead of us. Joe didn’t look like he was happy to be showing us to the rooms Marcus had provided us, and I wasn’t too enthusiastic about being led.
Marcus Whateley knew too much about us. It felt less like we were tracking him down and more like he was leading us on a merry chase. The incident in the tunnels also bothered me. If Marcus wanted me dead, he could have just let the Reanimated eat me. Was he playing some sort of game? Did he have such confidence he could destroy us at any time that he was willing to rescue his pursuers? Or was there something else at work? I didn’t for a moment believe he had noble intentions, no matter how much I distrusted Professor Armitage.
No one had noble intentions anymore.
“Booth, do you think this is all right?” Mercury whispered, at my side.
“If they wanted to kill us, we’d be dead already,” I said, unconcerned. “Their rifles have been following us the entire time. They have decent stances and period relocation. Whoever these people are, they know how to shoot.”
“We know how to shoot, too,” Thom whispered behind me, having better hearing than I gave him credit for. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been in a situation where backwoods snipers have had the drop on me and I’m still here. I’m pretty sure the rest of you can say the same.”
Bobbie, strangely, didn’t rise to the Insmaw citizens’ defense. Instead, she looked uncomfortable. I didn’t like that.
“I don’t want to start any trouble here,” I said, taking a deep breath. “It seems like they’re decent people.”
“No one is decent people,” Thom said, not bothering to whisper. “Not for a long time.”
“People weren’t decent before the Rising,” Bobbie said, turning our private conversation into a public one. “They were every bit as selfish, stupid, ignorant, and mean as they are now. They just had less reason to sl
it each other’s throats over a can of beans.”
“I like beans,” Jessica said, standing beside her. August was trailing at the rear.
Farmer Joe reached the top of the stairs and knocked on the side of Room 42. “This is Marcus Whateley’s room. The rest of the rooms on this floor have been rented for you as well. I can promise you we’ve gone over them with a fine-tooth comb. There’s no spells, traps, or explosives hidden around here.”
“And you’re such a trustworthy sort,” Thom said.
Jessica said, “Be nice.”
“I’ll try, for you,” Thom said, crossing his arms.
I looked back at Jessica, wondering at their seeming familiarity. I’d have to ask her about that. We’d parted a while ago, and I’d missed the past eight months of her life. She could be married or an adoptive mother now for all I knew. Certainly, she’d managed to garner herself a significant reputation around the ruins of Boston. Somehow, Jessica persevered despite the loss of her children and exile from New Arkham.
I didn’t know if I could have done the same in her position. Even if I didn’t see them often, my children were everything to me. The realization that I’d cut them off and they were probably suffering from my absence as much as I was from theirs was like a blow to the chest. Reaching into my pocket, I felt the one photograph I had of them both. There was a miniature portrait of Jackie inside as well, reminding me that my family wasn’t limited to blood relatives. Damn, I was feeling maudlin today.
Farmer Joe looked down at his feet, lifting a hammer from his overalls and tapping it in his hands. “Marcus Whateley is no friend to the people of Insmaw. He used to be, but not anymore. I know you have no reason to believe us, but unlike Remnant folk, I don’t lie.”
“You’re Remnant folk,” Jessica said, more protective of our former homeland than I was.
“Not anymore,” Farmer Joe said, shaking his head.
“What did Marcus do?” I asked, looking out to the ocean again. There was something almost … menacing about it.
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