The Engine What Runs the World

by Quinn Buckland

  Smoke chuckled at that, “Kiddo, I have probably forgot more about the underground in my years than you’ll ever know. Especially once the militia from the underground places the boomers again.”

  “Do you really think they’ll be able to pull it off this time?”

  Smoke nodded, “I really do. They’re most likely going to be sending real killers to sacrifice their lives for what they believe to be the greater good. These men and women would die for the people of the underground. If not the underground as a whole, they’d happily die for those on their level. The people of the engine don’t kill, there’s no possible way for them to win.”

  “Funny you bring up that the engine people don’t kill,” Blue said with a smirk.

  Smoke hung his head, “I know I should have stopped it when I could, or at the very least tried to stop it when I could. Instead I did nothing until they said so. For that, I am so sorry.”

  Blue surprised Smoke by giving him a hug. “It’s alright. You had just been through a torture session. My first time I couldn’t remember my own name. It’s not surprising that you’d forget. You looked out for me as best you could down there, I appreciate that. And believe me, I’m sure not going to forget it either.”

  Smoke pressed his lips together and nodded. “Nothing will happen to you while I’m around. I won’t allow the engine to have either of us again. Once we are on the surface we will get the underground collapsed and there will be no way back to the engine.”

  Penelope returned before Blue had been given a chance to respond. In her hands she held a small sack filled with darkplant and synthetic meat. “You know what the great thing is about the underground?” Penelope said with a grin. “Their food lasts so much longer than the surface food.”

  She passed both Smoke and Blue a raw darkplant and a sizeable slab of cooked synthetic meat. The three of them dug into their food and for a moment they had forgotten their troubles.

  20

  Smoke could imagine the hustle and bustle of the first below as Penelope parked the lift platform. With all the bodies gone from the first below the place looked to be a disheartening ghost town. The sixth below had been full of people and the other floors were busy as well, but the first below was the sort of place where people of the underground and surfacers could mingle and trade. To have experienced it without a soul in sight was not a sight Smoke ever thought he’d see.

  “Alright, follow me to my place,” Smoke said as he snapped out of the initial thoughts.

  The first below was almost spooky. He could see the boarded up food carts and the empty produce stands. They soon passed the place him and Constance had eaten soup together. The memory seemed to be years old at this point. Had the first below been crawling with people, he didn’t think the memory would have been so far away.

  He could remember the look on her face the moment she had tasted darkplant for the first time, her enjoyment in having the second bowl and eating the soup the next morning. The memory caused Smoke to smile. He’d have tried explaining it to Blue and Penelope, but he doubted they’d understand.

  The path to Smoke’s home was an easy one to navigate. Only two turns past the main road and there they stood. The place was a single story home made from synthetic wood. One single window was all that let in any of the light from the outside world. As Smoke looked on he could see a light was on inside. This worried him; he knew he had extinguished all his gaslights before leaving with Constance. He had checked several times to be sure. The fact that a light was on was a serious cause for concern. Someone was in his home, or had been inside recently.

  He looked to Penelope and nodded his head. “Pull out your revolving pistol,” he said quietly.

  Penelope looked at Smoke and then back to the home. She repeated her actions twice before her eyes lit up and she nodded back. She pulled the revolving pistol from the holster she had stolen from the underground and readied it. He motioned for Blue to stay back and began approaching the home in a crouched position. His legs ached as he maintained his crouched walk. He waved his hand to bring Penelope to take point and watched as she moved in front of him and to the door. She took a deep breath and kicked the door open.

  Penelope took one look inside before turning around and vomited. Smoke moved forward to the doorway. What could be so bad that out of everything the immortal had seen it would cause Penelope to vomit?

  He looked inside and saw a heavily mutilated woman tied to a blood-soaked chair unmoving. Blood had pooled around the chair staining his floor and leaving a smell only bloodshed could carry. At first glance Smoke was not sure as to what he’d been looking at. But the human features along with the feminine features told him what he needed to know. Her jaw had been removed at the hinges. Her tongue lay uselessly down her blood-soaked throat. As Smoke entered further into the home he could make out all the damage that had been done to the woman. Primarily that her eyes had been removed. Smoke felt tears fall from his face, but as he looked over the macabre sight what his body was doing was less than an afterthought.

  The woman’s nipples had been removed as well as her sex. A thought crossed Smoke’s mind and he had to know if his mental assertion was correct. He stepped down causing a floorboard to creak. The woman’s head shot up. Smoke screamed and fell back. She was alive and capable of hearing what was going on around her.

  “Who does this?” Penelope asked with horror.

  Smoke swallowed a lump in his throat and said, “The engine. They don’t kill. They will maim, mutilate and harm in any way they can. They don’t kill though. If this is who I think it is, this would be their way of saying I shouldn’t have left.”

  “How could they have got word this far up so quickly?” Penelope asked.

  “They have communicators that work in the engine. Who’s to say how far the connection reaches.”

  At the sound of Smoke’s voice the woman in the chair began fighting the ropes and producing a dry gurgled whine as she whipped her head back and forth tried to pull herself from the chair. Smoke could see something on her head. He assumed it to be a third below tattoo. All the working women on the third below had a tattoo above her ear that gave them their ID number so customers didn’t have to know a name. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered to the woman.

  She looked at him with her eyeless gaze - the look from her eyebrows and what was left in her face showed him that she recognized his voice. He placed his hand on the woman’s head and moved her hair to one side. The number 432 became visible. He knew that number, it was the number he’d whisper to himself as a young man. It was Glass. Glass! The woman who had been there for him his whole life. The woman he loved more than any other human in existence. The woman he’d planned on leaving his world behind to be with. Here she sat, horribly mutilated without her eyes or bottom jaw. “Glass,” Smoke whispered before a sob took his voice, “I’m so sorry. I can never make up for this. You didn’t deserve this, I’m so, so sorry.”

  Glass made a sound between a gurgle and a scream. She tried to lift her right arm. Smoke saw this and ran to the kitchen to grab a knife. He cut the rope holding her right arm. It’d be the only rope he’d cut for her - she’d never survive out there and he needed her to remain still. Glass brought her hand up to Smoke. He took it and felt as she made a love symbol on his hand. He kissed her hand and placed it back down on the chair. “I’ll be right back,” he said softly.

  He walked towards Penelope and soon brought her outside. “What’s going on?” Penelope asked, “Why’d you let her hand go?”

  Smoke frowned in the attempt to fight back the uncontrollable crying that would have to come out soon. He took a deep breath and said, “I need your revolving pistol.”

  “Putting her out of her misery?” Penelope asked.

  “Performing the kindest thing I’ve done for her in a long time.”

  Penelope nodded and placed the revolving pistol in his hand. He made a mental note to thank her for not asking any questions. He re-
entered the home and sighed heavily. “I’m back Glass. I don’t think I can say I’m sorry for this enough. I think if I’d have stayed in the engine you’d have probably been okay. There’s no real way I could know for sure, I didn’t even know they had you captured, but it’s the best guess I’ve got. I think if they’d have led with this, I’d have cracked immediately.”

  Glass hung her head without making any sort of sound. She looked to be taking in his words as best she could. He moved towards Glass and pulled back the hammer to the revolving pistol. He held the muzzle of the revolving pistol a few inches from her head. Tears began to fall from his eyes as the memories of Glass came flooding back. Their first kiss, the first time she sex’d with him without pay. When he’d come to her needing help. “I love you,” he said quietly before pulling the trigger.

  The side of Glass’s head exploded into a fine red mist painting the side of the room. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He howled and fell to his knees letting the tears and the uncontrollable sobs flow. More memories of Glass poured through his head as he remembered the woman she used to be. He recalled their last encounter and the plans they had made. That she had asked him to remain in the third below with her. He wanted to do it. He’d have given anything to have that opportunity again. But he had to finish his job. He had to find Blue. He’d sacrificed the woman he loved dearly for a couple million skins. The trade didn’t seem fair.

  He soon picked himself from the floor and grabbed a blanket. He draped it over what was left of Glass and walked to his room. He pulled off the Engine Officer’s uniform, washed his hands and face in the wash basin that had been filled with clean water before he’d arrived and dressed into a set of brown trousers, a burgundy buttoned shirt, a set of burgundy suspenders and a gold waist coat. He reached into his drawer and pulled out a copper fob watch and chain. He placed the watch into his waistcoat pocket and attached the chain to his button line. He grabbed a wide brimmed bowler hat from the top if his bed. It was a new hat that had yet to get much for dust on it.

  He looked to the coatrack and grabbed a red longcoat he hadn’t worn for several years. He grabbed a black faux leather belt and a brown holster. He walked to his wall and opened a loose board showing the spare revolving pistol he’d kept in case of emergencies. He then moved to his filing cabinet and pulled out the contract for his reward. He grabbed the book of the tower families and the history book of the 21st century.

  As he stepped outside he could see Penelope and Blue talking. “I’ve got clothes inside,” he said coldly. “You both should get out of the officer’s uniforms and into some real clothes. You’ll garner attention otherwise. I’ll wait out here.”

  The women nodded and entered the home. He could hear Penelope tell Blue to not look under the blood soaked blanket. Smoke hadn’t thought the blood would seep through the blanket, though now that his head was back on straight, or at least straighter than it had been he should have known it would. If Blue did as Penelope said she’d be able to live the rest of her life without the image of Glass’s mutilation in her head. Penelope would live with it for a time, but in time would forget the experience ever happened. Smoke would see Glass’s face in that horrible mangled visage for the rest of his life.

  His tears had dried and all that remained was a fiery rage that needed direction. He knew exactly where to point that rage. Both targets wouldn’t know what to do or how to survive his wrath. He knew this for a fact. One would be easier than the other, but his vengeance would be swift and merciless.

  Blue and Penelope exited Smoke’s home dressed in his clothes. The clothing was too big for the smaller women, but it looked less conspicuous than the form fitting suits adorned with metal armour. “We ready to go?” Penelope asked.

  Smoke shook his head, “There’s one more thing I need to do.”

  Smoke entered his home for the last time. He gathered his gaslights and poured the fuel over Glass. If she wouldn’t get the proper burial she deserved she’d get the next best thing. He didn’t have time to dig the hole for her and give her the funeral. The fire would burn her body away and scatter her ashes along the underground. That was the best he could hope for. If he was lucky the fire would consume the majority of the first below. It’d be a fitting end to such a place.

  He made a trail of fuel to the doorway and grabbed a box of matches. He frowned heavily as he exited his home. “Glass, I Smoke Callahan set your spirit free and lay your soul to rest. May you rest in peace and find your way to the great beyond you so greatly deserve.”

  Smoke lit the match and threw it at the fuel. It immediately caught fire and made its way to the shrouded body. Smoke closed the door before the fire had been given a chance to burn the blanket away and reveal Glass to Blue. She didn’t need to see it.

  “You alright?” Penelope asked placing her hand on his shoulder.

  Smoke shook his head, “No, not in the least. I’m sad and I’m angry and I’m confused and I… I feel lost. I have all this rage that needs to be directed mixed with the desire to walk away from it all.”

  “What are you going to do?” Blue asked.

  “I’m going to see it through. I’ve come too far and lost too much to not finish the job. You go to the lift and I’ll meet you there. I’m just going to stand here for a while.”

  Penelope nodded her head knowingly and took Blue to the lift. Smoke watched as his home began to fill with smoke. Dark plumes came from the window as it shattered from the heat. He watched as the place became a roaring inferno and as soon as he knew nothing would be left of Glass, he left.

  Smoke no longer felt the pain in his arms and legs. He was numb all over as he remembered Glass as best he could. The engine would die for what they had done. They would die for all those who had been hurt by their obsession; all those who had died from their wounds. They would pay and Smoke would be the one to deliver the bill.

  Smoke reached into the pocket of his longcoat and found a small knife he had stored there years before. He brought out the knife and unfolded the blade from the hilt. He pressed the point of the blade into his palm and watched as the blood began to slowly pool. He pulled the blade away and closed his hand. As the blood poured from his closed fist to the ground he said, “I vow, in the name of Glass that I will… I will avenge you. I will not rest until my dying day until all those who brought this on are punished.”

  He took in a deep breath and put the knife back into his pocket. He thought of Glass being alone in Smoke’s home while the people who had done that to her roamed around free. That was unacceptable. He stepped into the center of the town and shouted, “Take me back to the engine. I’ll go without a fight. Just don’t let her sacrifice mean nothing.”

  Smoke then dropped to his knees and placed his hands behind his head. He stopped everything and waited, the only sound around him was his breathing. After several minutes of waiting he heard a set of footsteps. An elderly man with long grey hair stepped from behind a food cart. “Mister Callahan,” he said with a smile. “I’m glad to see you. I’m also pleased to see you’ve reconsidered our proposal. It disheartened us greatly when you chose to leave us so forcefully. Please stand, we will take you to the lift to the second below promptly.”

  Smoke obeyed and waited as three more men stepped into view. “Why did you do that to her? Why her?”

  “We didn’t want to, Mister Callahan. We captured her not long after she came to the first below. We would have then held her until we had confirmation that you had been turned. We’d have set her loose and she’d have been free to go where she wished. There was a lift here waiting for her to let her back up to the surface. Instead you had to escape and kill two of our officers in the process. That sort of behaviour is unacceptable and you needed to be punished.

  We’ve had eyes on you for many years Mister Callahan. We knew your every move before you made it. When the Lang family hired you to find Blue, well that was a bit of a godsend for us. We’d have both Smoke Callahan and Blue Lang. All we had to do was
wait. But then Robert had to fuck it all up by killing your friend and you began fighting back. I don’t doubt you’d have been more pliable had that not happened.”

  “So you did that to her because I refused to be abducted?” Smoke asked trying to choke down his rage.

  “I wouldn’t put it that way, but if that’s how you choose to see it.”

  “Is this everyone down here?” Smoke asked.

  “Yes, we are the only four that are on the first below. All our other agents are on the surface.”

  The four men didn’t have time to react as Smoke pulled out his revolving pistol and fired at the men. Blood spattered everywhere as the shots erupted from the revolving pistol. Everything seemed to move slower as Smoke aimed and fired in one fluid motion. Once the last man had dropped he put the revolving pistol back in the holster and made his way to the lift.

  He found Penelope and Blue at the lift ready to go. Blue asked, “We heard shots, is everything okay?”

  “Things will not be okay for a while,” Smoke said dryly, “though I did find the people who had carved Glass to pieces.”

  “That explains the shots then,” Penelope said with a tone that said she didn’t blame him.

  Smoke nodded and sat in the wheeled chair Blue had brought to the platform. Penelope began to turn the crank. “Who was she?” Blue asked.

  “A woman I loved very dearly,” Smoke said bluntly. “She deserved so much better.”

  “Nobody deserves that,” Penelope said with narrow eyes.

  “I meant me,” Smoke said. “She deserved better than me.”

  “You’re not that bad,” Blue said in an attempt at comforting him.

  Smoke took in a deep breath through his nose and let the air out through his mouth. “I wasn’t always,” Smoke said as if nobody else were present. “I wasn’t always a good man. The two of you wouldn’t know this but I grew up in the fourth below. A man gets tough or dies really quickly in a place like that. I was one of the hardest of my generation. I had no problem carving a person up like a darkplant to get answers. I never did what those dead men from the engine did though; I always made sure they died. I was a monster, but I wasn’t inhuman.