Chapter 35: The weight of things
Entropy Emily was not inclined to being intimidated. Certainly not scared. She wasn’t even particularly inclined to worry about things, if she was being honest.
But for some reason, standing in front of the wide-open space where Westwick, California once stood, she was all of the above.
“I think I’m going to throw up,” Emily said. And meant it.
“You don’t look so good, kid,” Bedlam said. “You need some water or something?”
“No, I’m just… do any of you guys feel that?” Emily said.
“Feel what?” Bedlam said.
“Maybe Dude is picking up on something,” Emily said, rubbing her temples. “Hey Billy?”
“What I don’t understand is why you had spare costumes for all of us in your apartment,” she heard Billy saying to Kate, ignoring Emily’s call for attention. Natasha and Dreamless hung back away from the group, talking softly and ignoring the bickering young heroes.
“Why wouldn’t I have your gear,” Kate said.
“Because that meant you stole our clothes and kept them in your murder room,” Billy said.
“There was always a chance you would need your costumes in an emergency,” Kate said. “Our base crashed on the other side of the world. You can’t just fly up to the Tower to get your pants. I plan for all contingencies.”
“You had my costume in your closet,” Billy said.
“You’re just upset she handled your leotard,” Titus said.
“You,” Billy said, pointing at Titus, who was hanging back, leaning casually on that weird spear the other werewolves had given him so long ago. “You were in on this.”
“I had no idea she took one of your leotards,” Titus said. “I mean she has some of my alien-technology werewolf yoga pants and I’m not upset.”
“You’re a thing,” Billy said. “It’s not a bad idea for you to have spare pants at her place. Meanwhile, Assassin’s Creed over here just has my suit and Jane’s cape and skirt hanging in a closet.”
“Which I’m happy about, by the way, so I don’t have to go into an alternate dimension wearing khaki shorts and Chucks,” Jane said. “Glad you thought ahead, Kate.”
Kate gestured to Jane as if to say, “I rest my case.”
“A reasonable person appreciates this sort of thing,” Kate said.
“Billy, you’re just mad because you have your suit but you don’t have the right underwear to go with it and now you’re all bunched up and you think your butt looks bad,” Emily said with a little more anger in her voice than intended.
“Well, now I can’t stop looking at how bunched up his shorts are under his spandex,” Bedlam said, fighting off a laugh.
“Someday, I will get through a twenty-four hour period with dignity,” Billy said.
Emily rubbed her eyes until she saw stars in her vision.
“You okay, Em?” Billy said, all sarcasm gone from his voice.
“This place feels wrong,” Emily said. “I think it’s setting off something with my powers. Can you use your Dude-powers and see if there’s like, a weird magnetic field or something?”
Emily felt Bedlam’s hand rest on her shoulder to steady her, which she found shockingly reassuring. She looked over to the cyborg.
“Thanks,” she said.
“No problem, kid,” Bedlam said.
“What do you mean it’s setting something off in your powers?” Jane asked, her tone deadly serious. Of course she’s freaked out, Emily thought. We were together when my powers nearly destroyed the alternate timeline we saved a while back. She knows better than anyone what my stuff can do if it gets out of whack.
“I… okay, my powers are all gravity-based, really,” Emily said. “And I’m used to being able to… I can feel the weight of things. Does that make sense? I always have this sense of how everything is placed in the world around me. It’s like sonar, I guess.”
“You’ve never mentioned this before,” Kate said.
“It’s a useless power,” Emily said. “More like a side effect. It doesn’t do anything, y’know? Except right now, that...”
She pointed out at the miles of open space where Westwick once stood.
“That is not anything like what it’s supposed to be. And it’s not just gone, or empty,” Emily said. “Empty doesn’t bother me. It’s almost like something wants to be there but can’t.”
“We gotta fix this town,” Titus said. “This is so bad.”
“Are you going to be okay?” Jane asked.
“I feel like I’m going to projectile vomit, but if you guys can stay down wind of me I think we’ll be fine,” Emily said.
“Maybe it’s an inner ear thing,” Titus said.
“I work with gravity,” Emily said. “If I have an inner ear thing, my career is over, dude.”
“Are you okay to come with us?” Jane asked.
Emily nodded vigorously.
“If anything, I think I’ll be better if we go to the other side,” Emily said. “Let’s do this thing.”
“Okay,” Jane said, producing the planar knife Doc had given her.
Natasha and Dreamless rejoined the group.
“Have you decided if you’re coming with us?” Jane asked as the sorceress approached.
“I think I’ll stay here and monitor what King Tears is up to,” Natasha said. “There’s a good chance he’ll come looking for me, and I should be around just in case. He thinks I’m retired, so I wouldn’t be dimension-hopping.”
“What about you, Lady Dreamless?” Titus asked.
The strange woman tilted her head at the werewolf curiously.
“I would like to see this pocket dimension,” she said. “But I worry that whatever entity you hunt will know I’m there the moment I arrive. I should like to give you time to search before I enter. Maybe by then my presence will be a beneficial distraction.”
“I only have one knife,” Jane said.
Natasha exhaled loudly.
“I don’t usually like to give away trade secrets like this, but, as they say, desperate times call for desperate measures,” she said. “Doc Silence stole that planar knife from my collection. I have several more. I can open another portal later. How much of a head start would you like, darling?”
“Twelve hours,” Kate said bluntly.
“That is very specific,” Billy said.
“No, it works,” Titus said. “It’s a town, right? That gives us time to explore, get the lay of the land, and then if we haven’t found the creature by then, maybe Lady Dreamless arriving will, as she said, flush it out into the open.”
“Twelve hours it is,” Natasha said. “For now, I’ll transport us somewhere less conspicuous. Good luck, moppets.”
Natasha Grey made a quick gesture in the air, muttered a few arcane words, and vanished from sight, Lady Dreamless in tow.
Emily caught Titus moving his hand at his side, as if mimicking the gesture the sorceress had made.
“What are you doing over there, Chewie?” Emily said.
“Nothing,” Titus said irritably.
Emily caught Kate’s death glare—directed at Titus, not at her—and let the conversation drop.
“Okay,” Jane said, brandishing planar knife. It was dagger-like, but the shape of the blade, the thinness of it, reminded Emily of a straight razor. “I’m going to, um, cut a hole in reality. Don’t waste any time. Jump right through. I’m not sure how long it stays open.”
“You guys bring me to the best places,” Bedlam said. “My first interdimensional field trip! I’m so excited.”
“On three,” Jane said.
“One,” Emily said.
“Two,” Billy said.
“Three,” Jane said, slashing downward through the open air. The blade left a glowing tear in reality, an eerie reddish-gold light leaking through.
Emily linked arms with Bedlam and together, they ran through the tear.
And then they were gone.
; Chapter 36: Gather our army
Andrew Keppler looked out the window as the rental car up to where Westwick, California used to be and whistled in shock. The government had been keeping information about the missing town under wraps to prevent panic, but even with the Children of the Elder Star mostly defunct, the organization had insider information only large piles of money could access, so he’d seen some footage not wildly available. In person, it was a thousand times more terrifying.
“The whole place is gone,” he said.
King Tears sat next to him in the back of the rental, eyes hidden behind heavy sunglasses. He said nothing, staring passively out the window, until they parked. He got out without a word and walked directly up to the perfectly straight line where the street leading into town ended, as if cut with scissors.
“This is fascinating,” he said, tracing the empty space with long, tattooed fingers.
Keppler rushed to catch up to him, grimacing at the dust kicking up and sticking to his expensive shoes.
“Is it really gone? Or is it, like, an illusion or something?”
“Oh, it’s gone,” King Tears said. As he touched the blank space on where the town once began, Keppler could see strange symbols he’d come to understand were mystic runes glitter and disappear. “But nothing is ever completely gone. I’m reading its ghost.”
King Tears stepped off the road and into the dusty earth where Westwick had been, walking barefoot through the dirt, grime clinging to his dark dress pants. Keppler begrudgingly followed.
“Someone opened up a doorway back there,” King Tears said. “There’s a scar in the astral plane. We won’t be the first to go through to the other side.”
“Go through to… we?” Keppler said.
“You didn’t think I’d leave my favorite colleague behind while I traveled into the great unknown, did you?” King Tears said. He seemed to be following a path in the dirt, almost as if he could still see streets and sidewalks.
“I... I mean it’s just that I don’t know how much help I can be,” Keppler said. “I’m just a mid-level executive, not a magician.”
“While I agree there’s almost nothing as useless as a mid-level executive, you’ve become a little bit more than that,” King Tears said. He grinned at Keppler wickedly. “After all, there’s no one above you anymore. That makes you upper management. And everyone knows those are the guys who cash out the best.”
“I’m not sure I like ‘cash out’ in this context,” Keppler said.
King Tears ignored him, continuing his journey deeper into the emptiness. Finally, he stopped and held out his hands to either side, again making strange gestures Keppler knew were part of a spell.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Every town has a graveyard,” King Tears said. “If I’m going to the other side, I need to know if there are soldiers I can raise up from the dead. It appears when this town disappeared, it took everything with it, including graveyards and underground plumbing. The teleportation spell was exceedingly thorough.”
“You’re going to raise peoples’ grandparents from the dead to fight for you?”
“It’s not nearly as thrilling as it sounds,” King Tears said. “Necromancy is a bit boring, to be honest. I prefer flesh sculpting.”
“Like what you were doing with the test subjects back in the City,” Keppler said.
“Exactly,” King Tears responded. “Zombies are fine for basic tasks, but if you can create a real weapon, a true monster, one that can think and act independently, well, that’s a far more useful tool in a battle.”
Keppler stopped in his tracks.
“That’s what that thing was? The pile of bodies in the warehouse? It was a weapon?”
“It was the start of one. Clearly it wasn’t particularly useful yet. The boy we allowed to escape into the homeless community though, he was a work of art,” King Tears said.
Keppler’s stomach roiled. He’d worked for the Children of the Elder Star since college, offered an internship by a friendly recruiter, groomed for management in their cult-like structure. He knew much of what they did. Somehow, he’d always compartmentalized the Children’s research and development departments—he had nothing to do with those brain-dead teenagers they were experimenting on, so he could collect his paycheck and not worry. He liaised between finance and marketing. He worked in budgets. He never had to get his hands dirty. It never felt any worse than, say, working for a hedge fund in his mind.
And now his new boss was talking about raising the dead and mutating test subjects as though this were the simplest thing in the world.
King Tears began walking back to the car, and Keppler again hustled to follow him.
“Are we going right now?” Keppler asked.
“Of course not,” Tears said. “I want you to make arrangements to have several of our most functional mutations shipped here. We’ll want to bring a show of force. Bring me a list of our inventory. I’ll help assess which ones will be most suitable for the task.”
“Sure,” Keppler said, trying to keep the distaste out of his voice.
“I’m beginning to enjoy delegation,” King Tears mused.
It occurred to Keppler, in that moment, that he’d been delegated to since he was nineteen. These are things they don’t warn you about in business school, he thought.
“I assume the Children have ways of shipping live cargo quickly and efficiently?” King Tears said. “Well, live-ish.”
“Those channels are still available,” Keppler said flatly.
“Good. Make it happen,” King Tears said. He had a disconcerting glee in his voice. He’s looking forward to this, Keppler thought. Morbid old man.
“I’ll get a list drawn up,” Keppler said as they returned to the car. He watched the empty space behind them disappear in the distance as they drove away, feeling vaguely like it might be a metaphor for his own life.
***
Neither King Tears nor Andrew Keppler noticed an unassuming, unmarked car parked just off the road nearby. They failed to see the high-tech binoculars watching them, or the old man with a silver mustache and light brown fedora observing them as they came and went.
Sam Barren leaned back in his seat as they drove away, took off his hat, and scratched his thinning hair absently. Doc had warned him to keep an eye on the site, not just for gawkers—regular law enforcement could keep them away—but for the sort of super-powered vultures who would want a look at this sort of event to find a way to take advantage of it. Watching a man with gray skin covered in mystic tattoos walk barefoot through the town like he was dowsing for water definitely lined up with the sort of weirdos Doc had warned him about.
Sam looked at his cell phone with resignation. Doc was unreachable, of course on the other side of the veil, but he’d told him who to call if anyone like this showed up. Sam wasn’t particularly happy about it, but any port in a storm, as they say.
He dialed the number Doc left him and tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. The call went to voicemail, which ruined Sam’s mood even more. Sam hated voicemail.
“Lady Natasha Grey, I was given this number by Doc Silence,” Sam said. “He said you want to know if anyone showed up in Westwick…”
Chapter 37: An unfair range of emotional abuse
Titus was the last one through the portal, emerging to find the others standing around taking in their surroundings.
“Well, it’s a town,” Emily said, still arm in arm with Bedlam.
“Why is everything so red?” Bedlam said.
She wasn’t wrong, Titus thought. The sky had a reddish hue to it, bathing the entire town in a sort of perpetual ruddy sunset. The town itself, rows of simple suburban houses in bright colors spread out before them along faded streets, a small downtown area in the distance. Behind them and ringing the town was a deep forest. The forest made the wilder part of Titus’ nature anxious, as if the wolf inside knew those trees weren’t real. Beyond the trees, mountain ranges in deep purple
jutted up like trees. And on the far side of the town: a castle. It looks like someone built it out of blocks, Titus thought, watching as bright crimson flags danced on the wind.
“Red sky in morning, sailors take warning,” Emily said. “Red sky at night, sailors delight. Which one is it?”
“Why are there no people?” Jane asked.
Kate brushed by her and approached the nearest house. Titus followed her. Inside, they saw a woman staring into a mirror. There was nothing wrong with her face, but reflected in the mirror, tiny worms wriggled beneath her skin. The woman touched her cheeks with a look of silent terror.
“Nightmares,” Kate said to Titus. He nodded.
“You guys don’t want to look at what’s happening in this one,” Billy said loudly from outside the neighboring house.
“I want to see,” Emily said.
Bedlam joined Billy at the window, took one look inside, then turned right back around and walked away.
“No, no, absolutely not, you do not want to look in there,” she said.
“Why not?” Emily said, pushing past the cyborg.
“Oh,” Emily said. “Oh, that’s why.”
“Did I not tell you?” Bedlam said.
“Look, we’re still figuring out our friendship,” Emily said. “I now know that we have a similar level of ‘don’t look at that.’”
“Well, listen next time,” Bedlam said.
“They’re not all bad,” Jane said, standing by a third window. Titus joined her and looked inside. An entire family was celebrating Christmas, opening gifts, drinking cocoa, singing carols.
“Well that’s curious,” Titus said. “I wonder how it’s determined if they should get a dream or a nightmare.”
“Either way it seems like the use of dream images is controlling the population,” Kate said. “Clearly it’s a pacifying device.”
“One family gets Christmas morning, while someone else gets maggots crawling under her skin,” Titus said. “That’s a pretty unfair range of emotional abuse.”
The Indestructibles (Book 5): The Crimson Child Page 17