Dispocalypse

by M. A. Rothman

  A dwarf with a short-cropped beard and dirty face waved for Willow to follow him. “Ramai told us you’d be here, but that was three hours ago, and we’ve run through a lot of fuel waiting for you. What took so long?”

  “We were near the center of Eer Ha’ehven and jogged the entire way.” Willow shrugged. “Probably fifteen or twenty miles by my reckoning. And besides, it’s not like I can wave my hands and just show up somewhere.”

  The dwarf cast a sidelong glance at Willow and shrugged. “I suppose.”

  The wide cavern where the dwarf had intercepted them narrowed as they entered a tile-covered tunnel that reminded Willow of the bomb shelter. Somewhere in the distance, she heard the rhythmic clank of metal against metal.

  Raz tapped her on the elbow. “Raz hears the fire-breathing box.”

  Willow glanced at Raz in confusion. “Fire-breathing box?”

  The dwarf chuckled. “It’s called a train, and it doesn’t breathe fire—well, now that I think on it—maybe it does breathe fire.” He glanced at Willow and motioned for her to pick up the pace. “You’ll see what the wildling’s talking about soon enough. Very few of our people even know that this part of the city exists.”

  Willow jogged after the dwarf and within moments the tunnel opened to another wide cavern. Her eyes immediately settled on three giant metal boxes, all of which were set firmly on metal wheels that had long metal tracks underneath. The nearest one was rumbling loudly and white steam puffed from a smokestack on its roof.

  The tracks receded into the darkness of a distant tunnel and at least two dozen heavily-armed dwarves guarded the platform on which a rumbling engine was being fed bundles of dried fungus.

  Their escort yelled to the soldiers on the platform, “Is the engine properly fired up and ready? I found our wayward elf and the wildling.”

  One soldier yelled something, but Willow couldn’t hear over the din of the running engine.

  A dwarf leaned out of the engine compartment and looked in Willow’s direction, tossing a thumbs-up signal.

  Motioning Willow forward, she and Raz approached the platform with their dwarf escort following behind. “You’re going to be taken all the way to the end of our railway line. That’ll take the majority of a day, almost fifteen hours. You two will relax in the first car on the train. The second one is full of dried fuel to power the engine.”

  Willow stared at the strange setup and nodded. It was like an odd iron wagon, and the engine pushed the other boxes forward.

  Raz hopped into the engine compartment and waved for Willow to follow. “Come. It’s okay.”

  Willow turned to one of the soldiers and asked, “Why are there so many soldiers here? Is there danger?”

  The soldiers looked at each other and one stepped forward and crossed his heavily-muscled arms across his chest. “It’s a precaution. This is one of the few places where the aboveground is accessible. You’ll find many more of us at the end of the line where the junction of many of our railway tracks meet. The dead city is a dangerous place.” He tilted his head toward the engine. “Your wildling friend should know all about that.”

  The dwarf who’d escorted them to the train station sniffed loudly. “Let’s get a move on. It’s over one-thousand miles to the dead city, and as the fire box tender, I’ve got lots of shoveling to do”

  Willow stepped from the platform onto the rumbling metal engine.

  Raz escorted her through the second car and led her into the first.

  The interior cabin was about twenty-feet long and ten-feet wide. From front to back was a series of bench seats, all made of the same metal that the cars themselves were constructed from. At the front of the cabin sat a box overflowing with cushions and blankets.

  Raz set aside the pack of supplies he’d been carrying, scrambled to the box, and grabbed a blanket and pillow. A metallic chime rattled somewhere in the cabin as he spread a blanket on one of the benches and rested a pillow on it. Raz waved frantically to Willow and patted the pillow. “The car will be moving soon. Come, come. Rest here. You’ll have a long ride.”

  Willow smiled at Raz, unslung the bow and quiver from her shoulder and humored him by sitting on the blanket. Somewhere outside she heard the sound of grinding metal; the entire room suddenly lurched forward. Willow tensed as the rumbling vibration warned that the wagon was on the move.

  “The train’s moving!” Raz clapped excitedly and grabbed his own blanket and pillow, laying it on another bench. He hopped onto the bench, punched at his pillow and lay lengthwise on his makeshift bed. He raised his head and looked at Willow. “Raz will stay awake. You sleep. Raz will wake you when he gets sleepy.”

  Willow panned her gaze across the interior of the car as her stomach did flip-flops. She felt as if she was moving, but without any visual cues to confirm it, it did something unpleasant to her insides.

  Letting out a deep breath, she lay on her side and placed her possessions directly in front of her. The rhythmic motion of the train rocked her gently as she rested her head on the pillow. Her final waking thoughts were of the dead city and what awaited her there.

  Almost as soon as Willow closed her eyes, she fell into a restless sleep.

  The bell jingled its warning as the train slowed, and after a few moments, finally stopped with a loud metallic screech.

  “Finally!” Willow jumped from her seat and knew that almost anything she’d face in the dead city would be better than being stuck in the rolling metal box for any longer than needed.

  With Raz following right behind her, Willow exited the car and was shocked to see an ocean of dwarven soldiers milling about. Easily one-hundred or more were moving in and out of an enormous cavern, all either guarding one of the many the train platforms or busily marching in or out of connecting tunnels.

  A dwarf stepped onto her platform and gave Willow a curt bow. “Miss Park, you’ve been expected.”

  Before Willow could say or do anything, her greeter escorted her to another boarding platform and she and Raz found themselves sitting cross-legged on a small platform with wheels and a large lever in its center. The dwarf who’d greeted them began pumping the metal lever and the vehicle began rolling, accelerating to a speed Willow could never have hoped to match even on a horse.

  With a whoosh, the platform entered a small, heavily-guarded tunnel that was nearly pitch-black. The only light came from the occasional blur of a torch as they rocketed past.

  Willow breathed deeply and detected the acrid odor of spoiled air. The vehicle slowed, and just as the end of the tunnel loomed ahead, they stopped.

  The dwarf hopped off, pulled out a heavy metal key, and stood by a nearly-hidden doorway set into the rock wall. He turned toward Willow and Raz as they approached and grimly asked, “Are you sure? Once you go through this door, it will be barred from your reentry. I’m not allowed to open it again, even if it’s seconds after I’ve closed it.”

  Willow glanced at Raz. “You don’t have to come with me. I mean it.”

  Raz frowned and pressed against her right hip. “You’re going, Raz is going.”

  Willow touched the bow slung on her shoulder and heard the challenging roar of Rubyrend in her mind. She turned to the dwarf and nodded. “We’re ready.”

  Their escort put his ear to the door, listening for something. After a minute he nodded and plunged his key into the lock. As he turned it with both hands, Willow heard metal sliding against metal with a final click.

  The dwarf pulled at a handle and a metal door yawned open into a dark tunnel with light at its end.

  With the smell of rotting vegetation and the familiar metal tang of the air, Willow knew where she was. She took a few steps forward and as soon as she’d crossed into the tunnel, the door swung silently closed. She turned and all she could see was the end of a tunnel. There wasn’t even a sign of a doorway.

  Raz motioned for Willow to follow. He scrambled ahead and Willow soon found herself chasing after the surprisingly nimble wildling through an anci
ent forest. He cast a sideways glance at Willow and motioned for her to hurry up. “Come. The dead city is still miles away. Raz doesn’t want to wander in the dead city at night. Bad things are traveling at night.”

  An Unexpected Reunion

  Following Raz’s lead, she tried pushing her senses past anything she’d ever done at the Academy and was surprised when Willow had begun to detect things like the scurrying of a foot-long lizard on branches twenty-feet above or the sickly-sweet scent of a group carnivorous pitcher plants.

  Willow breathed out a cloud of steam in the cold afternoon air and silently wondered how much further it would be. She couldn’t see the sun, but by the angles of the shadows, Willow figured that it was probably late in the afternoon already.

  Raz had led them nearly three miles to the east, all the while, they’d been traveling through thick forest with no more than a shoulder’s width separating the tree trunks. The wildling snaked his way through the trees as if they weren’t even there and suddenly he stopped, sniffing the air with a frown.

  As Willow crouched next to Raz, she peered in the direction he was focused on and noticed that only ten feet ahead was a large clearing with a boulder at the center. A slight breeze blew through the forest and the musty scent of rotting vegetation blocked all other scents just as Willow heard the crack of a fallen branch.

  Raz tensed, crouching even lower to the ground.

  Willow’s heart raced, her muscles tensed as she silently drew an arrow from her quiver and focused on the clearing just to the north. In her mind, Rubyrend roared—screaming for blood—as Willow gripped the bow and nocked an arrow to the bowstring.

  Almost immediately, two wildlings crept out of the forest and scanned the clearing.

  One of them suddenly raised his hand and pointed directly in Willow’s direction just as Raz groaned.

  Willow released her first arrow, immediately drew and released a second before the first had landed.

  Raz hissed a warning as the two wildlings shuddered on the ground, arrows protruding from each of their eye sockets. “There are going to be more. These are scouts.”

  Willow drew a third arrow and she waited. The dragonbone bow screamed in her head for more targets, yet Raz’s warning drew her backward into the shadows of the forest.

  Raz held his arm out and Willow froze as no more than twenty-feet away, a large shadowy apparition materialized without a sound.

  Willow barely suppressed her instinct to run as an eight-foot-tall behemoth silently emerged from the shadows. His sightless gaze turned in her direction.

  Her heart thudded so loudly, she wondered if it could hear it.

  Raz had turned into a veritable statue, not even blinking as the giant creature sniffed about the clearing.

  Occasionally, the behemoth would make a clicking noise as it panned its gaze across the clearing. It was clearly looking for something.

  Had it heard the wildlings’ death throes and come to investigate?

  The sound of hooves caught the clicker’s attention just as a deer raced alongside the clearing.

  With unimaginable speed, the clicker sprung in the direction the deer was travelling, and almost immediately the deer collapsed on the edge of the clearing, convulsing as the spittle the monster had projected at it dripped off the deer’s face and antlers.

  Even as the animal stiffened into paralyzed submission, the clicker bent over and hefted the deer by its back hooves as if it weighed practically nothing.

  Willow watched as the monstrous creature carried its prey deeper into the wood and was startled when Raz touched her arm.

  Raz motioned for Willow to follow him, vectoring away from the clearing. “Raz and Flower must get going now. The deer are running from something. Flower can’t be here.”

  They proceeded to silently move further east for only a minute when the sounds of incoherent yelling erupted somewhere behind them.

  Willow glanced back toward the darkness of the forest and she could tell that the noise was coming from the clearing.

  Raz touched Willow’s elbow and motioned toward the east, away from the clearing. “A hunting tribe. They’re dangerous. Go.”

  She caught the sound of many angry-yet-unintelligible voices through the short distance between Willow and the clearing. She was hit with a sudden realization of just how dangerous the Forbidding still could be, despite the changes she’d been through.

  Willow shuddered as a sense of fear bloomed within her and she turned to Raz, nodded her understanding and picked up her pace.

  Raz held his hand out and signaled for Willow to stop. He sniffed at the air as the howl of a wolf echoed through the woods. His eyes widened. He glanced at Willow and pointed up at the trees. “Climb!”

  Raz rushed at the nearest tree and Willow was shocked at how high he’d managed to jump, catching hold of one of the hanging vines.

  Willow scrambled up another of the lichen-covered oaks, and as soon as she’d managed to get herself a dozen feet above ground, she turned and saw Raz motion for silence.

  All Willow knew was that if Raz was worried, there was definitely something to worry about. That wildling could sniff out the scent of things far better than she could. He’d already been invaluable in detecting and then skirting past two patrolling teams of wildlings since the incident at the clearing. This time he’d just barely sniffed out what Willow presumed to be a wolf when more howling began.

  Her mind raced with the possibilities of what the howling creature might be. After all, they were in the Forbidding and wolves were not unheard of in the Dominion controlled areas either. Maybe this creature wasn’t a wolf.

  Raz motioned from his eyes toward the ground and Willow looked in the direction he indicated. All she saw was thick undergrowth and trees. Suddenly she heard a low growl and spied a dusky gray snout sniffing the air from within the foliage.

  A large wolf pressed through the undergrowth, looked up at Raz and growled.

  “I see you, two-legs.”

  The wolf snarled as he approached Raz’s tree

  “Climb down two-legs. I’ll make a meal of you.”

  Willow gasped as the wolf’s snarls and growls formed meaning in her mind.

  The wolf spun toward Willow’s tree and the hair on the back of his neck bristled.

  She stared at the wolf with a mixture of fright and shock.

  The wind shifted and blew from behind her toward the wolf. It sniffed, and it approached the base of her tree. The sniffing repeated as it circled Willow’s oak, all the while focusing its eyes on her.

  Suddenly, the wolf whined and flicked its tail.

  “Mother?”

  Willow froze.

  The large creature grew agitated and paced quicker as it sniffed harder at the base of the tree.

  It whined more insistently.

  “Mother!”

  Willow was suddenly flooded with understanding, her vision blurred and she barely croaked out the name, “Growl?”

  The wolf yipped and his tail wagged as he scratched at the tree’s bark.

  Raz hissed a warning as Willow jumped down from her tree limb.

  Growl launched himself at her and Willow laughed as she was buried in a storm of licks from the gigantic wolf.

  Willow’s cheeks ached from the grin on her face as she rubbed Growl’s cheeks like she’d done when he was a puppy.

  “Growl, can you understand me?” She motioned toward Raz who was still up in the tree as he stared at the two of them. “He’s a friend. You understand? Raz is a good wildling. Don’t eat him.”

  Growl glanced up at Raz and gave a loud whining yawn.

  “You sure? Two-legs try killing me when in packs. I kill them when they alone.”

  “Yes, I’m sure. This one is my friend.”

  “Friend?”

  “He’s part of our pack. Do you understand?”

  Growl wagged his tail and yipped his understanding as he rubbed his face against hers. She motioned for Raz. “It’s okay. He won
’t hurt you. He understands that you’re part of our pack.”

  Raz hesitated, looking uncertain. Growl plopped himself on the ground, exposing his belly for Willow to rub.

  Raz called out, “You sure?”

  “Yes, he’ll be fine.”

  Raz scrambled down the tree, all the while keeping his eye on the wolf.

  Growl whined.

  “He’s afraid.”

  Willow ran her fingers through Growl’s thick coat and reassured him, “We all were afraid. I thought the soldiers had killed you.”

  Growl turned toward his left haunch and rubbed his nose against it with a whine.

  “Two-legs hurt me. I ran, they chased.”

  Willow rubbed his rear left hip, and under the thick layer of fur she felt scars, lending credence to the rumor she’d heard that the Steel Fist had tried using him as target practice. She grabbed his big furry face and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re coming with me, okay?”

  Growl wagged his tail and his tongue lolled out as he panted.

  Raz approached slowly, and crouched near Willow and the wolf with an apprehensive expression. “Need to get going. The dead city is ahead still.”

  Willow stood and Growl followed suit. She unslung her bow and nodded to Raz. “Lead on, Growl is coming with us.”

  Willow breathed lightly as she noiselessly raced through the woods of the Forbidding, chasing after her fleet-footed wildling companion.

  Raz had led them around a small wooden outpost that contained nearly one-hundred wildlings and as they sped east, the smell of the forest began to change. The forest began to thin while the coppery scent of the air grew stronger.

  Growl let out a worried yip.

  “Bad place. Many two-legs.”

  As the forest gave way to rocky outcroppings, Willow noticed shattered chunks of concrete scattered across the landscape. All of it had green lichen growing over it, but it was unmistakably the ancient remains of a city.

  One that had been destroyed long ago.