Chasm

by Stephen Laws

  “Surprise,” said a familiar, hated voice.

  Henry Caffney limped from around a tangle of pipes, and brought the shotgun to bear on them.

  One side of his face had been burned raw; his jacket was still smouldering. His one remaining eye gleamed with insanity. The shotgun itself looked as if it had been dipped in acid, smoke curling from around the barrel and the stock. Henry had plucked it from the burning pool and, despite the damage, it still looked in dangerous working order. Patrick Caffney was behind him, clutching his broken ribs as he stepped out into full view. Unlike his brother, he was fully aware of the flood of burning fuel bearing down upon them. Somehow they had escaped the wall of flame behind.

  “I’ve reloaded,” said Henry, grinning. “Two shells in here now. Not one. Got lots more in my pocket.”

  “It’s over, Henry,” said Jay. “Leave it.”

  The ground shuddered beneath them as another canister exploded somewhere on the disintegrating crag.

  “I don’t think so,” said Henry simply, and pulled the trigger.

  The sound of the detonation was drowned in the roar of another exploding canister.

  Annie and Lisa fell to the ground.

  “No!” Juliet instinctively pulled away, wanting to run to them. Jay held her close again when Henry swung the smoking barrel in their direction.

  “You’re mine,” grinned Henry. “Nothing’s going to take you away from me.”

  Jay saw the tidal wave of fuel all around, about to engulf them. Maybe this was a better way. He pulled Juliet close.

  Henry grinned again, and cocked the hammer on the shotgun.

  And then Patrick blundered into him, staggering forward with his eyes bulging. He was clutching his throat. There was a blurring flash of undefined movement, and now Patrick was spinning on his heels. He staggered again, tried to right himself…and fell to his knees.

  “Patrick…?” Henry still had the shotgun on Jay and Juliet, but was moving quickly forward to see what was wrong. Patrick turned to look up at him, eyes still bulging. Blood suddenly began to seep through his fingers where he was clutching his throat. He tried to speak, but blood flowed out of his mouth in a gargling cough, flowing down over his chin.

  Something flurried in the air, whipping Patrick’s coat. As if someone had given him a quick blast with a high-pressure air hose. His hair flew as his head snapped back. Now everyone could see what had happened. Patrick’s throat had been torn out. Still gargling, he fell backwards and lay still.

  Henry whirled, swinging the shotgun.

  There was a clattering from the tangle of pipes from where Henry and his brother had emerged.

  A naked two-year-old boy with curled blond hair was hanging from one of the pipes. His eyes were gleaming in the light of the inferno, his beautiful face fixed in a ferocious snarl. There was a spot of blood on his chin. As Henry gawped, bringing the shotgun up to bear on the bizarre figure, the child wiped the blood from his chin with the back of one hand—and was suddenly gone in a blur of motion.

  Henry whirled again.

  “What are you doing?” he screamed at Jay. “What are you doing?”

  Jay couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “The Cherubim,” he said in awe.

  From somewhere behind, Candy said: “Oh Jesus…”

  And then something blurred through the air, hitting Henry in the small of his back.

  He fell to his knees, still gripping the shotgun tight. Jay and Juliet dropped to their knees, Juliet scrambling away to where Annie and Lisa were rolling in pain on the ground. The shotgun blast had hit them in the legs, peppering their calves.

  Another flash, the sound of ripping cloth, and suddenly Henry was blundering to his feet. A naked three-year-old girl, same blond hair, same ferocious blue eyes, was fastened on his shoulders. Henry spun and shrieked as the girl worried at his neck, sharp teeth champing through his collar and into the flesh. He tore her free, tried to get a grip. But the girl kicked off from his shoulders and vanished.

  Something flashed by his face. Henry screamed, and suddenly there was a bleeding gash across his forehead.

  Another flash, and blood was pouring from his cheek.

  “Kill him!” shouted Candy. “Kill HIM!”

  The shotgun discharged into the air and fell at Henry’s feet.

  Suddenly, there were small naked children all over him, the weight of their frenzied, clawing mass making him drop to his knees once more. Cloth and flesh ripped and tore. Henry continued to scream hoarsely.

  And now everything was dissolving into a brilliant white light.

  Jay held up a hand to his eyes, scrambling after Juliet. The burning fuel was here. Another second and the tidal wave would fall on them. He had to spend that last moment with Juliet, no matter what. But now he couldn’t see anything in the blinding light. He had lost her.

  “No…” said Jay, in final desperation.

  “Yes,” said Gordon, stepping out of the light and holding his hand down.

  Jay stared up at him, unbelieving.

  “Come on, Jay,” said Gordon. “Take my hand and follow me into the light.”

  “Am I dead?” breathed Jay.

  “No,” said Gordon. “But you will be if you and the others don’t come with me now.”

  “I don’t…”

  “Come on, Jay!”

  Jay took Gordon’s hand. It felt cool and strong.

  Gordon yanked him to his feet.

  “Juliet!” hissed Gordon. “Quickly! This way. Annie, Lisa…”

  Jay was standing in the bright light, but now he could see Candy and Alex only feet away.

  “Bring them!” hissed Gordon. “Now, Jay! NOW!”

  Jay lunged down and dragged Candy to her feet, pushing her into Gordon’s arms. Lunging again, he seized Alex’s lifeless arm and dragged him. Was this really happening? Juliet was suddenly beside him, helping with Alex’s body; Annie and Lisa leaning against each other, Tracey Caffney’s eyes wide with fear.

  Now there was nothing but the light—and the flash of small, invisible bodies as they returned from exacting Gordon’s vengeance on Henry Caffney.

  “Follow me,” said Gordon.

  They followed him into the light.

  And then the light was gone.

  The tidal wave of fuel crashed down on the lifeless bodies of Henry and Patrick Caffney, finally engulfing the petrol plant and the crag. The last four canisters exploded, fracturing the rock on which the plant had stood. Like a volcano, the crag blew apart, thousands of tons of burning fuel cascading into the Chasm.

  From the Vorla there was no sound.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The Vortex

  “We’re dead, aren’t we?” said Lisa.

  She couldn’t see Annie, but she could feel her as they clung tightly together. The pain in her legs was appalling.

  “It’s not supposed to hurt when you’re dead,” said Annie, hobbling to get a better position. She could feel the blood pooling in her shoes. She too was blinded by the glare and couldn’t see the others.

  Candy cried out somewhere in the light, and there was a sliding noise, as if something were being dragged away.

  Still hanging on to Juliet, Jay reached out in the glare towards her. She cried out when he touched her shoulder. Quickly, she grabbed his hand and he pulled her close.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Alex,” breathed Candy in fear. “Someone’s taken Alex…”

  “I can’t hear it any more,” said Juliet. “The fire and the explosions. It’s all gone.”

  “Was that Gordon?” asked Annie. “Was that really Gordon?”

  “It was him all right,” said Jay. “Are you there? Gordon, where are you?”

  There was no answer.

  “If he’s alive,” said Lisa, “then that means that Robin must still be…”

  “They’re all dead,” said Tracey Caffney in a dulled voice. “Daddie-Paul and the others. And I’m glad. I’m glad!”

/>   Lisa felt down in the glare. Tracey started at the touch. She was kneeling at their feet.

  “Is this Heaven?” asked Tracey. “Tell me it’s Heaven and not the other place. I don’t want to go to the other place, in case they’re all there waiting for me.”

  The glare began to dim.

  Breathlessly, they watched as their own shapes became more defined. The brilliant light was fading quickly now. The air was cool and still. No one could speak as they waited in hushed expectancy. There was something about this light, something that didn’t make sense. It was rising from them, like a great luminous cloud. Now it was roiling in the air above them, undulating and swirling as it rose higher and higher.

  They could see themselves now, looked in wonder at their faces and hands which looked somehow translucent in the light. The translucence was fading as their flesh became more solid. They could see that they were standing on what seemed to be a white marble floor.

  At last they could see where they had been brought.

  They were in a vast cave of some kind.

  The light had reached the “ceiling” and was swirling around stalactites. On either side of them, they could see rough-hewn walls of fissured clay, funneled and striated stone dripping with moisture. No, this wasn’t a cave…couldn’t be a cave. It was more like some kind of cathedral, with stalactites descending from above and stalagmites rising to meet them on all sides to form huge Gothic arches. About fifty feet from where they stood were ranks and ranks of what seemed to be stone pews, divided by an aisle leading down to a distant stone altar. And did the pews have curiously flattened glass cases where each individual seat should be, glowing with the same iridescence that was flowing and rippling on the vast roof, amidst the stalactites? There were hundreds—no, thousands—of them.

  “Lisa?” said a familiar voice.

  Robin was suddenly standing beside her, smiling up.

  For a moment, Lisa couldn’t speak.

  Slowly, carefully, she reached a trembling hand down to touch his face.

  He took it, smiling, and pressed it to his cheek.

  “Don’t worry,” he smiled. “You’re not dead.”

  “Oh, Robin!” Lisa seized the boy up in an embrace, uncaring of the burning pain in her legs. “Oh, my darling, I thought I’d lost you for ever.”

  “Candy?”

  Candy flinched from the voice behind her, turned and refused to believe. This was a cruel trick. She had seen Alex shot twice by Simon Caffney from the microlight. She had seen the wounds, seen the blood; still had his blood all over her clothes. And as she looked at the vision of Alex standing there, she could see the blood on his own clothes, could see the hole in his shirt where the bullet had torn into him. But there was no wound behind the ripped fabric. And although his trouser legs were burned and gashed, she could see unblemished flesh beneath. There was no sign of the terrible gunshot wound in his thigh. Candy shook her head, tears flooding.

  “I can’t believe it…I won’t believe it…”

  Alex stepped forward and took her in his arms as the others watched in equal astonishment.

  “I don’t know what happened, Candy.” Alex’s voice was trembling with emotion. “I remember the pain, and the fire. And your face. I wanted to stop you crying, but I couldn’t speak. There was fire all around us, but I was so cold. Then there was nothing…absolutely nothing…”

  There could be no denying that this was Alex, somehow miraculously returned from the dead, alive and whole. Candy crushed him close, willing the dream not to fade, praying that she was not imagining all of this.

  “They healed him,” said another voice.

  Gordon was suddenly standing at their side, with his familiar lopsided grin and the guitar slung over his shoulder.

  No one could speak.

  “It’s to do with the light up there,” said Gordon, pointing at the ceiling. “And back there, in the nursery.” He moved to one side and indicated the rows of pews with a wave of his hand.

  Jay moved forward carefully, as if Gordon might suddenly vanish again.

  Gordon laughed at his unease.

  And then Jay seized him by the arms and shook him, both of them laughing, the laughter echoing and dancing in the “cathedral”.

  “You’re not…” began Jay, studying his face. “You’re not…”

  “Stuttering?” asked Gordon. “No, I’m not.”

  “They touched him,” said Robin breathlessly. “On the lips. And they healed him, just like they healed Alex. They’re…they’re really cool, Lisa. And this is a wonderful, fantastic place. You should see what I’ve seen…”

  “I don’t understand,” said Jay. “How the hell you got us out of there. What the…what the hell the Cherubim are.”

  “Robin’s right,” said Gordon. “This is a wonderful place. A place between places. We’ve learned so much and there’s so much I could tell you, but we’ve got very little time.” He was anxious now, pulling Jay by the sleeve towards the aisle. “Come on, everyone. Follow me. Quickly.”

  “The Cherubim are real,” said Candy. “Then that means that Ricky must still be…”

  Gordon paused, anxiously wanting to usher them on. But he could see that Alex and Candy’s forlorn hope needed an answer.

  “All right, listen! There’s so much more to it all…but I’ll try to explain. The children here, the ones you’ve seen, the ones in those nursery cots. They’re dead. All dead.”

  “Dead?” said Alex. “But we’ve seen them, we’ve…”

  “They’re not dead here, Alex. But they died in the world we came from. Back home. All the children who’ve died, who’ve never had a chance for life…they’re here in this nursery. It’s like a ‘way station’ between worlds. They come here, and they’re nurtured. Then, when they get to about three or four years old—by our own world’s standards—they move on. To another place, for the next stage of their development.”

  “But Ricky…?”

  “He died, Candy. It was a tragic accident, I know. But he came here, to this in-between place, just like they all do. They leave their bodies behind, but they also have bodies here. Bodies that need to be nurtured and developed. They instinctively know what they have to do for each other. And when they’re ready, they leave. Just like Ricky. He was here, he was nurtured, he changed into what he had to become…and then he went on. I don’t know what the odds are against your ever having seen him here. Maybe something wanted you to see him. To make you realise that there’s something more than death, that it all goes on… Now, come on! We’ve got to hurry before it’s too late.”

  “But the Vorla told us that this is a No-Place,” said Jay as they were led down the aisle, past row after row of glowing glass cases. “The place where mankind’s evil is dumped. How the hell does that fit in with…with…this?”

  “There’s much, much more to what Lisa calls the Realm of the Chasm than we ever knew, Jay. Things I’ve only begun to learn…things I don’t have time to tell you. But this place is like…like…an overlapping place. There are lots of different realities, all overlapping on each other. Sometimes they connect and there’s a pathway between them and… No, there’s no time! Look, the Cherubim are able to come and go as they please in that No-Place while they’re biding their time before moving on. They can slide in and out through…through portals I suppose you could call them. That’s how they come and go so quickly. That’s how we were able to get you away from the petrol plant.”

  “He asked them,” said Robin enthusiastically. “And they did it for him. Rescued you all, I mean.”

  Something was happening at the bottom of the aisle, down by the stone altar. The same kind of light that shone from the ceiling and the glass cases seemed to be enveloping it. It was glowing brighter and brighter as they moved on.

  “Is this a cave or a cathedral or what?” asked Juliet.

  “I told you,” said Gordon, anxiously hurrying them on. “It’s a way station.”

  “But who made it all, Go
rdon? Who’s behind it all?”

  “No time,” replied Gordon. “We’ve got to hurry.”

  “Where are you taking us?” Annie caught sight of something in one of the cases as they hurried; something tiny that surely couldn’t be an unborn baby.

  “Home,” said Gordon.

  “Home?” Jay halted and stared at him.

  Gordon grabbed him and dragged him on again. “The ’quake wasn’t a normal earthquake at all. You know that. It ripped a hole in the fabric of reality, ripped Edmonville right out of the real world and transported it here. To this different reality, where all the rules are different. And I’ve just told you about overlapping realities. The way the Cherubim can move around. Well, they’re using the power that’s here to cause another rip in realities.”

  Up ahead, the stone altar had vanished in the glaring light.

  Now there was a spinning whirlpool of iridescence, swirling and filling the cathedral-cave with the sounds of a great waterfall. A wind had suddenly whipped up, tugging at their clothes. The whirlpool was growing brighter, the wind stronger.

  “We’re going back?” asked Juliet in wonder.

  “Through a portal between realities.” Gordon had to raise his voice now to be heard. “Thanks to the Cherubim. We’re not supposed to be here, so we’re being sent back.”

  The whirlpool was an awesome sight now. A gigantic spinning vortex that seemed to suck greedily at them. Instinctively, they held back, fifty feet from the immense churning mass of light, their hair whipping in the wind. Gordon sensed their fear.

  “Don’t hold back!” he shouted above the wind. “There’s not much time before the vortex closes up and the portal vanishes. I don’t know if the Cherubim will ever be able to open it again. You’ve only got seconds, so you’ve got to move. Now!”

  “But Ricky…” Candy looked back for some sign that these strange and surreal children were hiding in the pews, watching them.

  “He’s gone on!” Gordon shouted. “Now, you’ve got to go back! Before it’s too late.”

  Alex looked hard at Jay.

  Jay nodded.

  And then Alex strode forward towards the whirlpool, taking Candy with him. Jay watched them enter the light, saw their bloodstained clothes riffling around them, their hair flying in the wind. Alex paused only once, to look back at Jay. And then the light engulfed them.