Turnkey (The Gaslight Volumes of Will Pocket Book 1)

by Lori Williams

  “We’re not stopping,” I demanded. “Not for anything. Not when the night’s dying in front of us.”

  “Eh, fine. That works for me,” Jack shrugged, wobbling his bare shoulders. “Let ‘im worry about me a little, gain a little appreciation.”

  “Mmm…” Priest mumbled quietly to himself.

  “Don’t get nervous now!” Jack said to him. “We’ll get our work done in time. Gren’s still got Eddie around to help, remember.”

  “Eddie?!?” I exclaimed. “Wait…what…Eddie’s found you?!?”

  Hack-Jack laughed. “Yeah, he told me you got a little terrified and drove off without him after finding Gren.”

  “You don’t understand! I panicked! And Eddie was fighting when…wait. After finding Gren?”

  “Yeah. Eddie said you two found Gren rigging cables while escaping. Eddie got out and you just took off. Said they trying calling after you, but…heh...weren’t lucky.”

  I was at a loss for words. That man, that helmeted city worker I’d raced away from, sacrificed Eddie to, that damned man was Spader, the whole bloody time?!? As I replayed the scene in my head, the more obvious it became. He and Eddie weren’t viciously fighting in the shadows, they were playfully sparring like always. I hadn’t heard the scared screams of betrayal, just their attempts to flag down the fleeing idiot.

  I sighed.

  “I see,” I said dumbly to Jack. Fortunately for my remaining crumb of pride, Jack switched subjects.

  “So I’m guessing you found that church,” he said.

  “That’s right. B and Quill are already on their way.”

  “What, in the ship? Why didn’t you ride with them?”

  “I tried,” I frowned, “but my feet were too heavy.”

  “Eh?”

  “Some other time, Jack.”

  Morning wasn’t far away as we pulled up to our destination on Pockswick Lane. The stars were all but erased. They were the faintest spots of white, washing out into the growing, spreading glow of yellows and blues that prepared to rise and usurp the night.

  The moon still remained in the sky, though, and that gave me strength.

  The Bluebird Abbey. At long last we came to a long, open courtyard paved with white bricks. I quickly departed and began running toward the very tall cathedral that stood in the distance.

  It was a striking edifice, stretching skyward with layers of ledges lined with stoic, stony gargoyles and stained glass.

  Glass! My heart leapt as I peered at the large, circular mural that graced the front of the abbey. And there it was, amongst the rendered Biblical scene.

  My fated beacon, the great bluebird on the wall.

  I had arrived. I had found the right place. Breathing quickly, I looked up and tried my hardest to see whether or not the girl I so wanted was standing upon the tallest steeple, the highest roof. Unfortunately, the cathedral towered so high that I just couldn’t find a clear view of the top from the ground.

  I heard Jack and the Priest jog up behind me. I turned to them and spoke without hesitation.

  “Inside. Let’s go.”

  The Red Priest nodded and we set our sights on a pair of front doors twice the height of us. For once, I actually felt slightly relieved. We had beaten the sun to church, there was no sign that the Doll had taken a premature fall, and there wasn’t a Magnate in sight.

  In that moment, I let my twinge of relief grow into an actual bit of optimism.

  And I really should’ve known better than to do that.

  “Wait,” the Priest suddenly said, stopping in his tracks. “Something’s wrong.”

  I ignored him and kept walking.

  “Pocket!” he called out. “Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah,” I said, continuing without pause.

  “B and Quill were already on their way, weren’t they? So where is their ship?”

  “Don’t know. Maybe they’ve already retrieved Dolly and left. But I’m checking this out regardless.”

  I got to the tall, wooden doors before Hack-Jack piped up. He had also stopped his feet from further exploration.

  “Maybe, uh, maybe he’s right,” Jack said to me. “Maybe you don’t want to march around in there just yet. I mean, I wouldn't.”

  “No one asked you to.”

  With that, I grabbed a door, pushed it open, and was met with a bug-eyed, puff-cheeked Magnate. He raised his gun to me and fired.

  My eyesight blurred as the bullet went through me, and for some reason, I couldn't make a sound. I fell instantly and stayed where I landed, just remained there on the ground as Jack screamed my name and the Priest returned fire. From the angle where I lay, I could watch the Magnate who had shot me. His teeth were terribly yellow. And then I witnessed the moment that followed as someone, presumably the Priest, avenged me by sending a shot through the gunman's thick neck. He gagged and his throat split open. Bright blood, as red as the crown on the man's lapel, flowed from the wound, and he dropped to his knees, the ruddy mess splashing onto my coat.

  I got woozy, and the next thing I remember was being quickly lifted up, not to the accompanying sounds of an angelic choir, but rather the electric hum of my escape.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” I mumbled as my companions hoisted me onto the carriage.

  “You caught a bullet, mate!” Jack shouted. “We’re getting you out of here!”

  “What?!? No, no! We can’t leave yet!”

  “Sorry,” the Priest said, spinning the vehicle around, “that’s not an option right now.”

  “The hell it’s not!” I griped, struggling to sit up. “Dolly might still be in there!”

  My objections fell on deaf ears as the cathedral shrunk away from my eyes.

  “Get me back there!” I snarled. “Or so help me, I’ll—“

  “What?” the Red Priest calmly asked. “What will you do? What can you do in that state? Limp around and bleed?”

  “Better my blood than Dolly’s!”

  “The Doll doesn’t have any—“

  “Damn it, you know what I mean! I don’t need this right now!”

  “Agreed. What you need is a doctor before you completely bleed out.”

  “I’m fine! I can’t even feel anything!”

  “Then you’re in shock. We have to hurry.”

  “Look, I’ m grateful for the rescue, but if it keeps us from reaching her, you might as well have left me to die!”

  “Just give in,” Jack advised me. “No offense, mate, but it’s going to be hard enough finding a medic at this hour who won’t ask questions. We don’t need your complaining on top of it. And you are spreading a lot of blood around.”

  “Pfff,” I scoffed. “Most of this blood isn’t even mine, anyway. That man you punctured went and leaked all over me. For all I know, this is all…”

  I thought for a moment and pushed my thumb through the fresh bullet hole in the back of my coat, where the slug had pierced right through me…hadn’t it?

  It must’ve, right?

  Unless…just maybe…

  “Boys!” I announced, springing upward stiffly. “I haven’t been shot!”

  “You were right,” Jack said to the Priest. “He’s going into shock.”

  “No, listen!” I said. “I think…I think the shot just missed me and caught my coat! Sure, I went down and stayed there, heavy as a stone, but I think that was just an act of my imagination!”

  “You think?” the Priest asked with understandable skepticism.

  “I mean, I’m certain. Fairly certain, but come on, you two, look at me. I’m not some grizzled soldier fresh from his hundredth battle. Do I look like someone who can take a bullet this casually?”

  They mulled this over.

  “That’s actually not a bad argument,” Hack-Jack said to the Priest. “He’d probably be acting all dramatic if he was dying. You know, crying and moaning about the ‘ladies of destiny’ or something.”

  But the driver wasn’t convinced.

  “Check under your sh
irt,” the Priest said.

  I reached for the buttons on my stained vest. It was a bit torn by holes, but...that didn’t mean they were bullet holes. I suddenly resisted, thinking on the advice Alexia had given me.

  “Reality is a compromise for those who toss away the rules.”

  “Maybe later,” I said, taking a deep, self-collecting breath. “I don’t feel like gumming up my fingernails with borrowed blood.”

  “Since when are you the dandy?” Hack-Jack smirked.

  “Never,” I replied, closing my eyes. “Just trying to hang onto some illusion of cleanliness.”

  The Red Priest shook his head, but I kept insisting that I was fine. He then threw up his arms in frustration and mumbled a terse “whatever you say.”

  “Right,” I said back. “Now take me back to the abbey.”

  “Not just yet.”

  I sighed and pushed away the tense nausea that was growing inside me with each passing moment. The Red Priest eventually persuaded me to trust in his actions, and promised to return swiftly to the cathedral before daybreak after a brief scanning of the area for, as he put it, “additional irritants.” We made a large but hasty circle and were about turn back for the church when Jack excitedly hopped in his seat.

  “Hey! Hang on! Pull over here!”

  The Red Priest obliged, which both surprised and angered me, and I reluctantly followed them into a small warehouse lot whose entrance had rusted half-open.

  “What’s this about?” I growled as I pushed inside the cramped space. Jack was clawing the nails out of the top of a wooden crate marked “SURPLUS.”

  “I’ve scavenged here before,” Jack explained. “Docked ships dump unwanted stock in here sometimes. Usually just lengths of chain or spare pieces, nothing anyone would care to steal, that’s why it’s not locked up very well. But once in awhile you can find something worthwhile.”

  “So what?” I muttered, ready to get back to the abbey.

  “So maybe there’s something we can use to defend ourselves. I’m not going back there unarmed again. Look what nearly happened to you.”

  I looked at the Priest for support, but he just shrugged.

  “Indulge him for a moment,” he said aside to me. “We have time.”

  “But—“

  “It doesn’t hurt to look. And I can’t always be relied upon to provide cover. Not for everyone.”

  “Fine, fine.”

  Jack cracked open the top of the crate, forced the wood to split down the front, and out rolled an old cluster of cannonballs.

  “Ah!” he gleefully clapped. “Here we go!”

  “Here we go?” I repeated. “They’re just cannonballs.”

  “And now they’re ours!”

  “Wonderful. You have a cannon to go with them? ‘Cause if not, all you’ve found are a giant’s set of paperweights.”

  “Not true!” he argued, taking off his shirt.

  “Oh, now what are you—”

  “See, look!” Jack insisted, wrapping a cannonball inside his unwashed garment and tying it off into a sling. When the Priest and I didn’t say anything, he took a step back and swung his creation in little circles at his side. “See? Gren taught this to me. Wrap one of these beauties up, and you’ve got a nice little piece. Makes for good bludgeoning.”

  I exhaled. “I’m going back to the carriage.”

  “It’s creative,” the Priest said to me, but I was already turned and headed back for my ride.

  “Well, I’m taking one!” I heard Hack-Jack say.

  I sighed and drudgingly lifted my right leg into the carriage.

  “Oi, you!” a gruff voice barked. I looked up, and gritted my teeth to see another night patrolman coming over. “This property’s off-limits to—”

  Clunk! Hack-Jack’s sling appeared from behind and popped the poor bastard right in the skull. He toppled like a domino, and my escorts were giggling.

  “Jesus, Jack!” I yelled.

  “What?” he laughed, scratching his bare belly. “I told ya. Good bludgeoning.”

  I turned my back to them and angrily got inside the machine. “Just get in.”

  They complied and left me to stew in silence as we travelled back toward the abbey. I had just nearly gotten over the irritation of the last interruption when Jack again piped up and demanded that we stop. I was half-seconds away from throwing him out of the moving carriage for such a suggestion when I saw his reason. To my great surprise, we spotted none other than Gren and Eddie rigging cables on a low roof. We parked and flagged them over.

  “Hey, you’re still alive!” Eddie cheerfully smiled to us. “Always a good reason to get a drink, right?”

  Gren said nothing, looking away in the loudest silence imaginable and aiming a notably cold shoulder that I couldn’t help but assume was directed at me. I ignored it.

  “The drinks can wait until this nightmare is over,” I said.

  “Did ya get to that church?” Eddie asked.

  “Came and left,” Jack said. ‘Didn’t get a foot inside though. Found a little trouble.”

  “I can see that,” Eddie said, pointing to my bloody overcoat. Gren tossed an eye my way and frowned in annoyance.

  “Any sign of my ship?” the Priest asked. The two on the roof shook their heads in disappointment.

  “Damn,” Jack muttered. “Where the hell are they?”

  “I don’t like it,” I said. “How much longer until sunrise?”

  The Red Priest fished out his watch from under his beggar’s rags.

  “Twenty, thirty minutes tops,” he said.

  “We need to leave now!” I insisted.

  “Agreed. Eddie, Gren, off the roof with you. We’ll need your help.”

  “Hang on there, bloke!” Eddie argued to the Red Priest. “If the sun’s popping up in that little of time, shouldn’t you be getting in place for….you know...”

  The Priest bristled and rubbed his lips together. I took the initiative.

  “Stay here then,” I suggested. “Eddie and Gren can hold their own in a fight, should more blackcoats show up. Jack too.”

  Eddie shrugged in agreement as he and Gren descended to the ground and approached.

  “Hmmm,” the Priest pondered. “Are the preparations complete?”

  “All except for the block Jack left behind when he fell off of that roof,” Gren scowled.

  “Oh, excuse me!” Jack argued, getting in Gren’s face. “Would you rather I’d faced death after I finished my work?!?”

  “I’d rather you faced it before I ever met you!” Gren countered.

  “All right, then!” I interrupted. “Jack, why don’t you stay with the Priest and complete whatever he’s cooking up?”

  “He didn’t tell you?” Gren muttered, avoiding eye contact. I ignored him.

  “Eddie,” I said, “are you up for this?”

  The brawler puffed out his chest. “You kidding? I was getting bored just lying around here like a corpse. Just don’t lose your calm and take off again, all right?”

  I frowned. “Yeah, uh, I’m sorry about that. No more running away.”

  “Right,” I heard Gren whisper to the dirt, mockingly.

  I glared at him but said nothing, as a part of me completely understood the resentment he must’ve felt, and instead addressed the Priest.

  “Captain,” I said, “how are you stocked for weapons?”

  “Just this, I’m afraid,” he replied, patting his repeating rifle. “You want it?”

  “No, you keep it. I’d just blow my foot off.”

  “You sure?”

  “Sure.”

  Gren snorted in annoyance and dropped to a knee. Lifting a pant-cuff, he removed a small pistol strapped to his ankle and tossed it at me.

  “Thanks,” I said, pocketing it. Gren just snorted again.

  “You blokes be careful, all right?” Hack-Jack smiled, all full of teeth.

  “Careful’s boring,” Eddie teased, cracking his knuckles. The sound felt like concen
trated thunder in my ears.

  “Well then, we’re off,” I said to the group, my eyes thin slits. “Good luck, everyone.”

  The two teams parted. Eddie jogged enthusiastically to the electric carriage and I began to follow.

  “So you’ve collected a lot of blood, huh?” came a voice from behind.

  I turned and faced Gren, his arms crossed and his face angry as ever.

  “Yeah,” I said to him, matching his bold tone, “I have.”

  “Got hurt?”

  “Not sure. I don’t think any of this blood’s mine.”

  A short laugh escaped him, and he shook his head at me. “Only you, Pocket.”

  I smiled a little. “I hope so,” I responded. “I don’t think this world could sustain another.”

  “Yeah,” Gren muttered.

  “I’m sorry,” I then said. I wanted to explain myself, my reasons, but I just didn’t have the enthusiasm.

  “It’s fine…I guess,” Gren surprised me by saying, “but it was still stupid as hell, all right?”

  “All right, Gren.”

  “Stupid, moronic, completely empty-headed thinking!”

  “All right, all right!”

  “But,” Gren said, turning his face away again, “I guess if I was after a good woman…I’d be doing completely stupid things too.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  He shrugged.

  “You know what?” he grumbled. “I was planning on kicking you in the shins or something when I saw you again.”

  “Now’s a good time. I’ve lost my fancy boots.”

  “Hmph…don’t really feel like it now. Mood spoiler.”

  It was my turn to roll my eyes off. “Sorry to rob you of your precious anger, Gren.”

  “Shut up, Pocket.”

  “Hey!” Eddie shouted from the electric carriage, almost bouncing behind the steering wheel like a child. “If you ladies are almost finished, we’re kinda losing time here!”

  We came to our senses and hurried onward. I hopped into the backseat behind Eddie.

  “Oh, wait a second!” Gren said, doubling back to a pile of supplies. He retrieved his half-trusty Half-Luck and…something else…