by J. A. Pitts
I ran across the open square, keeping the fountain between me and the fallen Bravo soldier. His mount lay to the side, its legs curled up to its bulbous body. I used to think they were spiders, but I realized that some of them had more than eight legs, some fewer. They were monsters of the Sideways—eaters who lived to consume. We just tried to attach a label to them to keep from losing our minds.
The soldier lay beneath the eater, broken by the great beasts writhing. He was not dead, however. He reached for his rifle, straining to move his body from beneath the mass of his dead mount. I stepped up to him, pointed the rifle at his head and pulled the trigger.
His head exploded like an over ripe pumpkin.
I checked his rifle. No ammunition there either. They had nothing worth taking that I’d be willing to soil my hands with, so I left them. I tossed the rifle into the fountain and rinsed my hands. The water was so cold it made my fingers ache, but it was worth it to get the feel of them off my hands. I drew Gram and pulled the shield around on my right arm. I wasn’t leaving the remaining mount alive.
I’d killed dozens of them by this time, and I knew their dance. Gram made short work of the thing. After two strokes of the black blade, I drove it between the three masses of eyes, ending its pained shrieking.
I stood there, afterward, breathing and scanning for more things to kill. Feeling my blood writhe and boil. Unfortunately, there was nothing left but the dead. I turned, listening in the distance, straining to hear more gunfire. Nothing.
The village, though. It held me. There was something here, something I needed, but I had no idea what. At least I had my amulet back. That was something. I knew who I was again, which was more than I had had before. As the moon rose higher into the sky, I returned to the dress shop, checked the soldiers for their pistols and found them without ammunition as well. I left those in the wreckage. I didn’t need the weight.
Before I left, I went behind the counter and grabbed my saddlebags. As I sheathed Gram and settled the saddlebags over my neck and the shield over my right shoulder, I stepped over to the mannequin.
“Twice you saved me,” I whispered, kneeling as far as I could from the congealing blood. The dress was ruined, all those beads, all the hours of hand-sewn stitches ruined by blood and gunfire. I reached out, stroking the bullet riddled bodice and noticed that the intricately beaded veil had fallen toward the back of the shop, away from the blood. It had been missed entirely by the battle. I picked it up and tucked it into my pack. Time for me to move on.
Katie was not here, but I had to believe I was catching up to her. Somewhere along the road there would be another town. And, if I lucky, I was far enough ahead of the hunters now that they would never catch up.
A girl could dream.
Thirty-six
Jimmy was shaken awake by Katie going into convulsions. He fell out of the chair he’d been dozing in. The hospital bed rocked so violently that it hopped across the floor, knocking over one of the monitors.
“Angela,” he called, picking himself up out of the floor.
“Coming,” the nurse called, running down the hall.
She didn’t say anything, just opened the mini-fridge near the bed, took out a small bottle of Lorazepam, and loaded a syringe with clear liquid.
“Hold her down,” she said, glancing at Jimmy.
He dove across Katie’s legs, keeping her from kicking as Angela injected the sedative directly into Katie’s arm.
“I’ll have to start an IV,” she said, once Katie started to calm down. She checked Katie’s eyes with a penlight, checked her pulse, and pulled out her cell phone and made a call.
“Melanie, yeah. Seizure, pretty dramatic. Yeah, moved the furniture and she wasn’t strapped down.”
She glanced at Jim and made a face he didn’t like. “Yeah, I agree. Okay, do I call 911 or can you come out?”
“Call 911,” Jimmy said, pulling out his own phone.
Angela reached over and grabbed his arm. “Okay,” she said, shaking her head at him. “We’ll see you soon.”
She hung up the phone. “She was already on her way out here,” she said. “Was at the coffee hut in town. She’ll be here in less than ten minutes.”
Jimmy sat down, and ran his hands across his scalp. “Jesus, that was terrifying. What the hell happened?”
“Seizure,” she said shrugging. “No idea why, yet. Let Melanie examine her and we’ll go from there.” She moved around Katie the whole time, checking her pulse, feeling her limbs, checking her temperature.
“Nothing I can see,” she said to Jimmy’s look.
Melanie arrived shortly after, and they ran Jimmy out of the room. She and Angela worked on Katie for nearly an hour before she came back out, leaving Angela to keep an eye on things.
Deidre handed her a cup of coffee as she sat at the kitchen table.
“Well?” Jimmy asked, his own cup growing cold on the table.
“Nothing,” she said. “Pulse is fine, heart rate is fine. She’s responding to touch and light. Her limbs are responding to stimuli. I can’t explain it.”
She took a sip of her coffee and grimaced. “Better than the hospital coffee,” she said. “But too sweet.”
Deidre rolled over with the pot and a fresh cup. “Sorry, I was thinking of Sarah.”
Melanie smiled. “I hope she has a good dentist.”
“So, what do we do?” Jimmy asked, annoyed.
“I got nothing,” Melanie said. “If you want, we can take her into town, get an MRI. But I think we’re wasting our time. The brain is a funny thing, Jim. Who knows why she went into convulsions? Frankly, it doesn’t shock me.”
Deidre put her hand on Jimmy’s arm and nodded to him.
“Let’s do the MRI,” he said. “Just to be sure.”
“You got it, boss,” Melanie said, taking out her cell phone. They watched her as she called in a private ambulance company.
“Maybe she needs to be in a hospital,” Deidre said, leaning against him. “You know, after we get the MRI.”
Jimmy ground his teeth, but took Deidre’s hand. “I want her here.”
“And if she dies because we can’t provide the care she needs?”
Jimmy didn’t say anything else, just walked out of the room and down the hall to stand in the doorway to Katie’s room. Angela was straightening up, righting equipment, picking up fallen books.
“We’re taking her to the hospital,” he said. “I guess you can take off, then.”
“I’ll wait until they get her away,” she said, turning to him. “If that’s okay with you.”
Jimmy shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He stepped into the room, dragged the chair to Katie’s side and sat down, placing his hand on her arm. “She’s been dormant for weeks, not moving, barely alive.”
“But alive,” Angela said. “Coma patients are tricky. We just never know if they are going to come out again.”
“She’s got a good, solid brain wave pattern,” he said, defensively. “She’ll wake up. I know it.”
Angela patted him on the shoulder and leaned against the wall. “You betcha,” she said.
Jimmy watched her, wishing he had any idea what had happened. “We need to call Sarah,” he said, standing up.
“I’ll go tell Deidre,” Angela said. “You stay here.”
Jimmy sat back down once again. “She’ll want to know,” he said.
Katie didn’t reply.
Thirty-seven
They’d dogged me for three long nights. I’d normally have said days, but here, when the moon finally set, it just rose again. There was no day. My leg hurt from where I’d been clipped by a crazed hammer-wielding dwarf. He’d been covered in tattoos from head to toe, with only a loincloth to go with his great two-handed hammer. He’d been hard to kill. I wasn’t even sure he was with the pursuers. I was pretty sure he was another one who was lost in this world, another traveler fallen into the madness of this place. I hated to kill him, but he left me no choice. I couldn’t leav
e him here wounded, with the Bowler Hat Man closing in on me.
I needed water and food, but wasn’t likely to find either. Several towns back there had been a fountain. The town where I’d recovered my amulet, the town where I’d killed the three soldiers and their mounts. Since then I’d only seen the enemy in the distance, riding along the tops of ridges as the moon set behind them, an army of monsters and the beasts they rode.
The shadows in the wild were not nearly as scary as the dark places in the towns and villages. Here the world was clean, at least cleaner than the places the dead were piled in great mounds. I’d gotten lost in the last village, nearly gotten killed by that damned dwarf, but Katie had never been there. There was no sense of her in those ruins.
Once I’d gotten away from the village with the wedding gown, I’d picked up the trail again. Holding Gram in my hands and directing her around, I could pick up the thread of magic, that line that drew me to Katie. She was here someplace, running from place to place, scared and alone.
I took a deep breath and stood, kneading my left thigh where the hammer had caught me a glancing blow. I was lucky the dwarven brute hadn’t gotten a solid hit, or he’d have shattered the bones. As it was, it hurt like hell just standing.
I sheathed Gram, slipped the saddlebags over my shoulders, hefted the round shield and headed up the hill toward the rising moon. I know I’d been going in the same general direction since I started out. I just couldn’t remember how long I’d been here searching, running, surviving.
As I crested the hill, I saw the spire of a church. The thought of another dead place wasn’t exactly uplifting. But after the battle with the dwarf, the trail had grown thin. I needed to find another link.
The village was not too large, several dozen buildings clustered along a riverbank with farmland stretching out beyond. Unlike most of the others, this one had already burned, the fire so old, there was no pungent reek of smoke. The buildings on the outskirts were ruined shells, first ravaged by fire, then by wind and rain. I paused at a few of the huts, but found no signs of life.
This was the land of the dead. No one lived here any longer. Any living being here had come from outside, from some place beyond the dead. Perhaps where I was from.
I thought hard, my mind a blur. Where was I? Was I truly here, in this necropolis, or was I really someplace else? As I thought it, the vision came to me of an apartment. I had been in our apartment, examining the book.
The book I’d taken from the fallen crone in the burnt out Viking village. That was Katie’s diary. I remember opening it, glancing at the first page … and I was suddenly here, running across the land of the dead.
Katie was here somewhere. I’d been following her. I just needed the book, I think. The book, the sword, the amulet, and the shield. What was I missing? What clue did I need to find Katie? And when I found her, how did I get us home?
Noise brought me back around. The enemy was drawing nearer. I had to press on, or be trapped in these woods, with a broken village blocking my path. I was so tired. There was no telling how long I’d run, how many nights I’d searched. Hunger had long since lost its hold on me. Now there was only the weariness and the ever-increasing thirst.
Maybe I’d skirt this town. Surely they would search for me there, slowing them down further. But if Katie were inside, hiding, I would be abandoning her to torment. I hefted my shield, adjusted my gear, and trudged down the hill toward the cluster of buildings just this side of a wooden bridge that spanned a river.
I paused. This river ran swiftly toward the village. It was probably free from the taint of the dead. Not like it mattered, hell I was so thirsty, I’d drink from a mud puddle. I began a staggered run down the dirt road, sending shallow plumes of dust rising behind me. River meant water. Water meant life. I had to recover my strength and push onward.
I skidded down the embankment and threw myself down at the river’s edge, cupping the icy water to my face in frigid gulps. After half a dozen swallows, I ducked my head in the running water, letting the cold seep into my head.
For half a breath I thought how easy it would be to give up and just let go. Take a deep breath of this icy flow and end the madness. No more pursers, no more villages filled with bodies.
Or, I just wouldn’t care anymore. I’d just be another member of the citizenry here, all broken and decaying. I pulled my head out of the river when my lungs began to burn and sucked in several lungfuls of crisp air. Not ready to check out yet, no matter how seductive the thought had been.
It made me wonder about this land. Maybe this was the place of the dead. I had seen the Valkyrie choosing from our fallen, deciding who would be taken to Valhalla. Perhaps this was where the rest went. It was a bleak land, covered in the beginnings of winter and the never-ending night.
The wheel was broken, so said Odin and Nidhogg. Was this the domain of Hel, the ancient child of Loki who ruled over the dead not worthy to battle at Odin’s side? Would Hel, that dark lady of eternity, let my pursuers rape and pillage her holdings, or were they the last of her followers, ravaging in her good name?
Thirty-eight
Julie pulled in front of Elmer’s Knife and Gun Emporium, parking the truck behind a bike that had to be Sarah’s. She glanced over at Mary. The last time she’d seen the bike it had been red and white, but the hammers, swords, and dragon paint job was a pretty good giveaway. She’d have to ask about it once she made sure Sarah was okay. Maybe after she’d kicked the girl’s ass for being gone for so many days.
Mary slammed the truck door as she stepped out and turned, anger flashing across her face. “You mean she’s here?”
Julie shrugged. “Let’s just hope she’s being a dumb ass and isn’t hurt or worse.”
Mary made a tight mouth, but nodded. “If she’s okay, I’ll be giving her a piece of my mind for abandoning Jai Li like this.”
Julie reached over and put her hand on Mary’s shoulder.
“I’m serious,” Mary said. “If this is how she’s going to treat that girl, I don’t think we can let them stay with us. I can’t condone this level of callous behavior.”
“I know, Sarah. This isn’t like her. She promised she wouldn’t be gone over night without keeping us in the loop.” She sighed. “She doesn’t tend to make the same mistake twice.”
Julie paused, thinking back. “Okay, that’s not totally true, but when it’s about something like Jai Li, she wouldn’t screw around. There’s something wrong.”
“God I hope not,” Mary sighed, the fight draining out of her.
They went to the door and hit the buzzer, but Sarah didn’t answer.
“Okay, time to bend a trust,” Julie said, digging a set of keys from her pocket. “Sarah’s emergency keys.”
“We’ll apologize later,” Mary said. “Let’s just get in there and make sure she’s not dead.”
Julie winced as she unlocked the door. “God, not dead. I’m hoping for drunk and passed out at worse.”
Mary growled. “If she’s drunk, I may do something violent.”
Julie stepped into the vestibule, holding the door open for Mary.
They climbed the stairs and turned toward Sarah’s and Katie’s apartment. While Julie unlocked the two deadbolts, Mary looked around. “Who lives next door?” she asked pointing to the door down at the end of the short hall.
“No one,” Julie said, opening the lock on the door handle. “Been empty as long as Sarah’s known Katie.”
She opened the door and looked into the living room.
“Oh, my god,” Mary whispered.
Sarah sat in the middle of the room, a glowing book on her left thigh, Gram in her left hand, and her right resting palm down on a shield on the ground. The place was disheveled. Everything that wasn’t nailed down flowed, floated, or wiggled around the room—chairs, pillows, books, socks, toys, playing cards, and dishes—each falling into a pattern of intricate swirls, spiraling through the room in a decaying orbit around Sarah and the artifacts that glo
wed around her.
“What in heaven’s name?” Mary asked, reaching over Julie’s shoulder and plucking a toothpick out of the air. As she held it, her bracelet began to pull away from her wrist, wiggling along her arm, tugging toward the gravitational pull of whatever held Sarah frozen.
“I think we’re in trouble,” Julie said, pushing Mary back out into the hallway.
Mary gulped, dropping the toothpick which floated in the air for a moment and began to gracefully reenter the orbit of floating things. Julie looked back, feeling her hair lifting back toward the vortex.
“Magic?” Mary asked, her voice quiet and strained.
“Oh, yeah,” Julie agreed. She backed up, pushing Mary with her, and pulled the door most of the way closed. Her hair fell back to her shoulders.
“I recognize the sword and the shield,” Julie continued. She leaned against the doorframe and rubbed her eyes.
“What about Edith?” Mary asked, her voice a whisper, as if the magic could hear her. “Do you think she’ll know something?”
Julie shook her head. “I’m gonna try something here. You stay back. If anything happens to me, call Edith. Hell, call Jimmy out at Black Briar.” She paused, taking a deep breath, all the old fears suddenly rising in her. The dragon Duchamp breaking her thigh for the pleasure of hearing her scream; the giants and trolls leering at her, waiting to play with her as soon as the dragon tired of causing her pain. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, willing the memory away. Her leg began to throb, even though the bone had mended. Psychosomatic, she knew, but her brain registered pain nonetheless.
“You know, forget that. If something happens to me, call Qindra.”
Mary blanched. “The dragon’s witch?”
“Oh, yeah. We’re definitely out of our league.”
Julie poked her head back into the room briefly, watching as the smaller items in the room flowed ever so slowly in their languid progression into Sarah’s orbit. Like a black hole, sucking in matter, Julie thought. But small, a pinprick, nothing too severe. Maybe it wasn’t too late yet.