Hereafter

by C. K. Crigger

  “Take her, sergeant. Find Nate,” he ordered, and jerked a thumb. “He’s back there, trying to stop the Cross-up. Go help him.”

  Lily, sprawled catawampus across the dead and very bloody body of a female saicler, barely avoided being skewered by the sword in her own hand. Pushing away from the corpse she nodded, deciding right off to find a hole and crawl in first chance she got. To hell with this. It wasn’t her fight, and she’d done all she had any intention of doing, help or hinder.

  Sergeant Zelnor may have seen this resolve in her face, for he pulled her to her feet and said, “You heard the boss. Come on.”

  Lily shook off his hand. “What if Nate is dead?” Please not.

  “He ain’t dead.”

  “And you know that how?” She drew back.

  Zelnor pointed. “Look there. See those skinny little shits with arrows in their backsides? Those running away? That’s Nate’s work. Nate and Black Pete.”

  That there were more of Nate’s arrows than Pete’s gave Lily an odd sense of satisfaction. He could be funny and gentle, but it seemed he could also be ruthless when the lives of his family and his home were at stake.

  A kind of empty feeling crashed through her, then, leaving her weak and disoriented. She had no one to care for her in this world. Knew none of these strangely altered humans or their living condition. She had no family and no home. Her life didn’t make any sense.

  How could anyone sleep for a hundred years? Sleep and then awaken in a strange hereafter? It was impossible, that’s what. She felt herself drowning in the sudden bewilderment and disconnection.

  “Wake up, woman.”

  A rough push in the middle of her back brought Lily’s wandering mind back to the present.

  “C’mon,” Rondo Zelnor said. “What the hell’re you doing? Can’t blank out on us now.”

  “Want to bet?” Still, something clicked in and, sword dragging at her side, she staggered in the direction Rondo pushed her. Battle cries and the clang of blade against blade faded a bit as they emerged onto what had once been the main highway. Unfortunately, that meant almost bumping noses with the white horses hitched to Screenmaster’s wagon as they plodded down the middle of the road.

  No thanks to Rondo, she stepped aside in time to avoid being trampled. The whole set up, horses, wagon wheels, harness, were encased in a peculiar silence. What the bubble didn’t muffle was Screenmaster’s voice.

  “You’re her,” he hollered down to her from his high perch as though delighted. He ignored Rondo as if the sergeant were invisible. “I know you’re her. You’ve got the look. Our look. Come here to me, sweetheart. I want you.”

  Lily didn’t dignify his demand with an answer. She was too taken with seeing through the transparent screen, Nate and another man trailing Screenmaster’s outfit. Each wore an identical look of frustration, until a slight smile flicked across Nate’s face when he saw her. Barnes himself seemed unaware of the men. Or perhaps, knowing he was secure behind his shield, he just didn’t care.

  Barnes stopped his team beside her. An odor emanating from the screen warned Lily that she was closer to it than she liked, but curious, she put out a finger and touched it. Cold, sticky and, what was that smell? It stank of something awful, like old death.

  Her nose wrinkled in reaction and she stepped back, but it was already too late.

  The bubble expanded to trap her inside.

  Chapter 21

  “Well,” Philip Barnes, Screenmaster, said, staring down at her from the high wagon seat, “that was easy. You walked into my sphere like a trusting little mouse. I expected more from one of the ‘Fighting O’Quinns.’ I hope you’ll be a little more active when I…when we start to play.”

  Lily opened her mouth to tell him she wasn’t an O’Quinn, then closed it again. Not smart. No point in giving him any information.

  He watched her, grinning with a show of bad teeth. It was an attribute unchanged in the last one hundred years. She remembered his lack of dental care from seeing him on TV.

  “What’s the matter, woman? Cat got your tongue?” He giggled at his private joke. “Yum. Tongue.” His own darted out to lick his thick lips.

  She swallowed. One of the notable things, repeated endlessly on the news, about his last killing spree was that he severed his victim’s tongue and ate it raw as the woman watched. Sick bastard.

  “Do you know who I am?” he demanded.

  Finding her voice, she answered more boldly than she felt. “Of course. I could hardly avoid it, seeing you’ve been making announcements every couple of minutes.”

  “Then you know I’m running this show. You know I’m the king of the Cross-ups. The most powerful Cross-up to come down the pike, to be exact. All others are subject to my whims. When I give an order, people obey. You got that?”

  “More fool them.” Eyes narrowed, she watched for any effect her words might have. It was said he got off on listening to his female victims scream, possible even without a tongue, even if speech was not.

  Her lack of reaction evidently displeased him, though he must have seen something of what she was thinking in her face. His voice raised an octave and grew several decibels louder. “When I speak, woman,youobey. I am the power here. Kapeesh?”

  Against her will, Lily sensed a kind of inner pull, a force the nasty little man managed to exert. Even she, warned and aware of what he was, had to fight against it. Screenmaster’s bubble seemed to take her breath away, her lungs laboring to use the air trapped within, stale and seething with evil. Beyond him, Rondo had joined Nate and another man. They were conferring in whispers, Nate gesturing, the one she didn’t know nodding, and Rondo turning to stare at Screenmaster’s gear. None of the three appeared quite as dismayed at her captivity as she felt warranted.

  “Well?” Philip Barnes, murderer and magician, reclaimed her full attention. “Answer me.”

  “I’m sorry. Did you ask a question? I guess my attention wandered.”

  “Ho.” Barnes laughed down at her from his high perch. “Do I sense a little attitude in you? I hope so. You might test my mettle after all. Excellent.”

  “You think so? You’re an arrogant little…” Lily searched for the proper word, “…outlaw, aren’t you?”

  “You have heard of me, haven’t you? Well, of course you have. Everyone has heard of Screenmaster.” He preened, smoothing his rough hair like a parakeet nibbles its feathers.

  Lily shrugged. “Oh, that. Not so much. I was thinking of your past as a condemned criminal. How, I wonder, did such an unmitigated horror as yourself manage to survive the catastrophe that caused…us?” Anger suddenly flashed through her. “No. That’s not right. What I really wonder is why you survived. It just doesn’t seem right. You were within a couple days of execution, if memory serves me. It’s too bad the state of Washington didn’t move a little faster.”

  All traces of Barnes’ grotesque smile faded from his face. “You have a sharp tongue, bitch. I’ll have to curb that. Permanently. You know what I’m saying?”

  “I’m not some old lady or drunken bar bunny,” Lily said. “Maybe not such easy prey. Think about it, dwarf.” She used the word as an insult, remembering how furious he became at his trial when one of the witnesses called him that. It had induced in him a childlike tantrum. The less clearly he was thinking, the better she could fight him. Or so she told herself.

  But he must have learned a thing or two in the last hundred years, and although his face reddened, he held on to his temper. “You have some lessons to learn, I see. But for your information, woman, no. I have other plans for you. That other thing?” He fluttered his pudgy fingers in the air. “There are plenty of that simple kind around to satisfy my…urges. I told you. I expect more out of you. Now,” he patted the seat beside him in invitation, “come up here. Let’s get better acquainted.”

  She didn’t move. “No, thanks.”

  His voice, deep for such a small man, hardened. “I insist.”

  “A gentleman would
come down.” What advantage that would give her was questionable, but her argument felt right.

  He appeared to consider. “Okay. I will. This once. See how agreeable I am?” Wrapping the reins around the brake lever, he began the climb from the tall seat, the bizarre robe he wore hindering movement. Made of heavy velvet, stars sprinkled the background, shining with some kind of glitter. Lily thought it looked like a Merlin the magician Halloween costume . Theatrical maybe, but silly, too.

  The horses stamped and blew, tails frisking at a few late flies trapped in the bubble with them.

  Lily’s heart beat faster as Philip Barnes jumped from the last step of a stair specially built to accommodate his short legs. Nothing he wore could cover a certain stiffness in the way he carried himself. A row of throwing knives peeked above the collar of his robe like a short picket fence. Under the swirl of fabric, she saw the gleam of metal armor.

  Knives, she remembered, were his thing. Not so silly.

  He circled her, eyeing her like a prospective buyer judges a mare for his breeding stable. He paid special attention to her backside, and when he was finished, he posed in front of her, one hand on his hip, the other tucked across his body Napoleonic style. “You’re a fine looking woman, you know that? Got good teeth, too. I admire that in a woman.” He nodded grandly and said, “We shall be partners and rule the world. You’ll like that, won’t you? Of course, I’ll be the senior partner, but you can sit at my left hand. I throw with my right.”

  Lily knew he lied. The slant of the sheathed knives told her as much.

  Outside the bubble, and off to the side, Nate had borrowed one of Rondo’s arrows. It was nocked in his bow, but strangely, the bow pointed at the ground in a oblique position. He was making faces and gestures, none of which made sense.

  Or did they? An idea glimmered.

  Her attention shifted back to Barnes. What had he been saying? “You want to make me your consort?” She laughed, surprised when it sounded almost natural. “And what, little man, makes you think your powers are stronger than mine?” She walked around him, placing herself between him and the massive wagon so that his back was to the O’Quinn contingent. “Perhaps we could turn the idea around and I’ll have you atmyleft.”

  He roared with laughter, showing an unpretty snaggle of teeth. “No one is stronger than me, dear. And you’re not a rogue—yet. But you haven’t tried to stop this fight, either. I’d know if you had. I can smell the use of power.”

  Yuck. Lily hated thinking they could relate on that score. She wanted nothing in common with this little toad. “Did you ever consider that our magical powers should be used to benefit people, not to harm them?” she asked.

  Barnes swung the arm previously tucked in his robe in a grand manner. “Oh, please. The power benefits me. If you’ve got it, flaunt it. That’s what I always say. And you will too, when you get over this American Way, apple pie, and mother shit that’s been ground into your head. I’ll teach you.”

  “I knew you’d say that, but Mr. Barnes, there is nothing I want to learn from you.” Watching him carefully, she unzipped her jacket, displaying the badge clipped to her belt. “Sir, you are under arrest.”

  He stared up at her, his pale eyes bugging. “What?”

  She stepped to the right. “Place your hands on the side of the wagon where I can see them.” His face puckered until she though he was going to cry, but what came out of his mouth was laughter. Great bellows that left him gasping, his froggy face red.

  Voice level, she said, “Hands against the wagon, Mr. Barnes. Do not make me tell you again.”

  The laughter shut off like the turning of a faucet. “You’re pretty funny, you know? Got a real sense of humor, which I warn you, could get old fast. Just out of curiosity, on whose authority are you making this claim? You’re behind times, woman. There is no law in this world. Not as you think of it. Here whoever is strongest makes the law.” He paused. “And that is yours truly. Your little stand means nothing. To me or to anyone. Not even the O’Quinns, I wager.”

  He was telling the truth, both about his strength and about the O’Quinns. Not that it mattered to Lily. Not when it came to Philip Barnes.

  She shrugged. “I guess I’m still stuck in 2017.”

  Lily watched his hands. The paper had reported he was deceptively fast, that he almost killed an officer once with a thrown knife before they could taser him and bring him down. She had to be ready.

  “Last I heard, I hadn’t been fired and I’m not on vacation or sick leave,” she continued. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m still a Border Patrol officer, bound to uphold the law. So, hands against the wagon, Mr. Barnes. And I’d suggest you drop this shield bologna. I’m not impressed.” Okay, that all sounded silly even to herself. So what? It was just talk. She must watch for any sudden moves. Be ready.

  Of course he refused either to spread himself against the wagon or to drop the shield. She expected nothing else.

  “So this is the way it has to be.” He grinned. “Just as well. I’ve never found another Cross-up I could trust. You have no idea what I’ve been through. There were one or two over the years that even made me lose an hour’s sleep. It’ll be fun, killing you right in front of them—” he nodded toward the clansmen, “and nothing they can do about it except watch. Do you think they’ll weep over you? Hmm. They’re O’Quinns. Knowing their reputation, probably not.”

  After that, Barnes (she refused to name him Screenmaster even in her own mind) ignored the three O’Quinns outside his bubble as though they were invisible. She, on the other hand, kept them in sight, although it didn’t seem wise to let them distract her as the little man began a slow circling movement around her. In truth, she couldn’t imagine why Rondo kept making gestures indicating she move away from Barnes, while the man she didn’t know pointed at her feet, and Nate—Nate just looked worried.

  He wasn’t the only one. Lily was worried too. What would it take for Barnes to drop his shield? Since she couldn’t seem to rile him into it, only one other likely reason came to her, which meant one way or another, she was on the spot for his capitulation. A smile tugged at her lips, probably looking like a frightened grimace to anyone watching. But really, it was funny. Here was Lily Turnbow with, among other things, a newly discovered talent of disappearing from plain sight. The knack was in opposition to Phillip Barnes who, keeping himself in the limelight, could build a shield around himself preventing anyone’s approach. Polar opposites.

  Stranger yet, Barnes threw knives, while she threw fireballs. It would come down to a duel. She felt that truth in her bones. So she might as well begin now, before the afternoon waned and dark descended upon them. She needed the daylight in order to watch Barnes’ hands.

  Outside the conjured screen, snow began falling. Great flakes that floated gently on a slight breeze. They settled on the dead, turning red as they melted in the fresh blood. Lily flinched from the sight as Barnes took another step to his left. Steel sang an eerie song as she lifted Bannion’s saddle sword in her left hand. The action appeared awkward, she knew, but not as awkward as it felt. Didn’t matter, anyway. This was not her weapon.

  “Put down that sword,” Barnes said, confirming her guess. “It looks silly. What does a hundred-year-old Border Patrol agent know of sword fighting, for Gawd’s sake. There’s nobody can beat my knives. Nobody.”

  “Scared, are you?” Lily asked softly.

  “Of you? Don’t be ridiculous.”

  But he watched the sword and her with narrowed eyes. Amusing, really. Hadn’t anyone told him about her little talent? Was he confident enough of his own powers that he didn’t care?

  She followed his circling dance step for step until one of his horses whuffed the back of her neck. She doubted Barnes would deliberately stab one of them, but it was possible that in his egotism failure in his aim wouldn’t occur to him. She tensed, her heart beating faster. Anger roiled, a heat in her blood.

  Nate knelt outside the bubble’s edge. The shield’
s circumference, she noted with some surprise, had shrunken. Nate had some wild creature in his hands, a bird, fluttering in terror. Suddenly, with a flapping of wings, it slipped beneath Barnes’ screen, ran a couple of yards, then turned and scooted right back out between Nate’s feet.

  Ah. Now she knew what he was trying to tell her. Without looking directly at him, she dipped her head once.

  The first knife came at her so fast she barely had time to shift the inch required to avoid it. The horse standing behind her squealed, threshing wildly in the harness, the knife protruding from its shoulder muscle.

  So. Barnes was willing to sacrifice the horses, after all.

  She wasn’t.

  “Not nice,” she said, thrusting with the sword so that by some quirk of luck his next knife clanged off the blade and clattered to the ground. She couldn’t count on that happening more than once. The sword wavered, impossibly heavy and dragging at her arms.

  Hand blurring, he reached again behind his neck. His teeth bared and he snarled like a wild animal as the next blade came free. Mad, feral eyes glowed with excitement.

  Lily dropped the sword. No more fooling around. Time for a show of her own. Her fingers flicked. A mote of fire zipped off the ends and struck Barnes in the chest, burning a hole in the snazzy purple fabric. With an angry howl, his next knife came free. At the same time, his screen shrank, leaving her outside and free of its poisonous air, while it built and thickened around him. His velvet robe smoked. He was panting.

  “My robe,” he said, brushing at the charred area. “My beautiful robe. You bitch. Think you’re clever don’t—”

  She should’ve been watching more closely, but the fact is she was a little unsettled by his crazy eyes. And so she missed seeing the knife in time to entirely avoid it.

  Barnes’ bad karma was being a dwarf. An angry, excited little person in this case, and instead of throwing, he hacked out like a wild man. He missed her gut by a hand’s width, slicing instead across the top of her thigh. The pain brought Lily down in a heap, and immediately Barnes stalked toward her, the blade gleaming through the falling snow.