“What, really?” Mercury’s astonishment was clear. Looking at Katryn’s backside, she tried to put her surprise into words. “But she’s uh … you were soldiers, armed soldiers. I mean she’s got a spear, John.”
“A blessed spear is more effective than firearms against many creatures of the Wasteland,” Katryn answered Mercury’s unspoken question. “The Dunwych do not disdain technology, though we do not embrace it either. Better we forge a new life than exist forever picking over the ruins of a dead civilization.”
“John, were we just insulted there?” Mercury blinked.
“Yes,” I said, not concerned about it. “The Dunwych may be descended from a bus of tourists that got marooned on some surprisingly durable farmland near Sentinel Hill, but that doesn’t mean they’re not capable.”
“You’re kidding,” Mercury said.
“Yes, because I’m such a kidder.” I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah, you are,” Mercury surprised me by saying. “In a dry-wit sort of way.”
Katryn interrupted, perhaps not enjoying having her racial heritage summarized so. “To continue John’s story, my people have had encounters with monsters from the sky before. The seeing stones read that John Henry Booth would be able to find a way to defeat the indescribable thing from the stars. We decided to spare the survivors’ lives and not take them as slaves if they agreed to help us avenge our losses. The Color from the Sky had killed a Dunwych village hours before; it had simply returned to its nest thereafter.”
“What did you do?” Jackie, of all people, was the one to speak. I was appalled she’d been listening to our grisly tale.
“We lured the swarm to an abandoned mine and detonated a nuclear warhead, one of New Arkham’s remaining six. It destroyed the enemy.” I allowed them to think the Color was dead. I had to do it, despite the terrible truth that it could not be killed. I knew on some instinctive level it had just been buried under a thousand tons of rock. Someday, the Color might leak into the groundwater or rise through the cracks in the rubble above it. That day, humanity would meet its end.
“That’s incredible.” Mercury said, genuinely impressed. A fact which confused me— after all, I’d just described how the three R&E squadrons had been almost completely helpless against an E.B.E. and how we’d won only through blind chance.
Katryn finished off my tale, covering a part I was uncomfortable with narrating. “I sealed the creature beneath the mine with a dozen spells and the lifeblood of traitors who had run away during the final battle. I invited Captain Booth to become a member of the Dunwych. We stayed together for a short time but there was no fruit from our union. He disappeared soon after, an affront to the gods.”
“I thought you didn’t bed murderers?” Mercury asked, biting her lip. “Pretty sure she qualifies.”
“I said willingly,” I replied, not wanting to get into it.
“Oh,” Mercury muttered.
Katryn sniggered, an unexpected reaction.
Peter, by contrast, looked annoyed.
“Are we almost there?” I asked, anxious to break the silence.
“Yes.” Katryn pointed, moving aside some tree branches. From there, I caught a glimpse of Scrapyard. A town literally made of junk. Much of the remaining Pre-Rising machinery had decayed to unusable refuse, even when humanity struggled vainly to keep it perfectly intact. That meant gathering new examples from the ruins of humanity was a thriving business.
Scrapyard positively reveled in this trade, stacking countless bits of antique garbage left over from Old America around them. If something was irreparable, more common than not, it might provide a glimpse about how to construct something similar. Houses were made of welded-together metal sheets, cars, and pieces of shattered houses slapped together. Piping ran through the entire town, hundreds of twisting and spiraling bars linking up to the town’s tiny windmill power plant. It was ghastly and beautiful at once.
The children, upon seeing their home, didn’t waste any time in running inside. The townsfolk, a strange collection of tribals and tinkerers, immediately rushed out to greet them. Alone, Jackie stayed behind. She just looked at the town with a mixture of sadness and longing. I understood her feelings.
We were both without a place in this world.
Chapter Ten
Scrapyard was officially a holding of the Dunwych tribes, which meant its warriors occasionally came by to say, “Send us tribute or we’ll kill you.”
As a result, Katryn and Peter were treated with a wary respect by the locals. Likewise, I was a known quantity in Scrapyard. It was a small enough community that everyone remembered me from my previous visits. The town’s salvagers didn’t necessarily have any love for Remnant soldiers, but we’d done favors for them and brought trade. The invisible unacknowledged trade which the Remnant depended on and the people of Scrapyard had benefited from.
As the children were gathered in the town square, they were picked up one by one. Parents and relatives collected them, sometimes with tears of joy and other times with a cold, sullen resentment, but collect them they did. During the process, I hoped some noble soul would come and collect Jackie. Yet, after all citizens of the town had visited with us, Miss Howard stood alone.
In small towns like Scrapyard, blood ties ran deep. If you couldn’t find a person’s parents, you were able to find someone related to them. Grandparents, uncles, or cousins could usually be counted on to take care of a child if something happened to their parents. Even when whole bloodlines were wiped out, due to plague or blood feud, neighboring families were usually willing to take in a child. The fact that Jackie wasn’t spoke volumes about how she was treated here.
Mercury, tactful as ever, observed this. “You’re not terribly popular around here, are you, girl?”
“Mercury!” I snapped.
Jackie answered her question without offense. “My mum got pregnant collecting fruit in the valley. No one knew who the father was and my mom died giving birth before she told anyone. They thought it might be a mutant or a ghoul or something. That scared them. Only the Sheriff, my Da, was willing to take me in. The others, they were happy to give me up after the slavers killed him.”
“I see,” I said, unsure how to respond. I couldn’t help but see parallels between her situation and my own—which frightened me since I’d have seen the villagers’ actions as reasonable not long ago.
Katryn leaned over and put a comforting hand on Jackie’s shoulder. “Do not worry child, we will hunt down any surviving slavers and spill their blood on the fields.”
“Good,” Jackie said before looking up and smiling weakly.
I expected Mercury to recite some bullshit statistic about how, anthropologically speaking, it was probably safest to reject Jackie from the community. Instead, she raised a fist. “Booth, I have to take care of this child.”
That got a single-word response from me. “What?”
“Anthropologically speaking, it’s good cultural instinct to adopt children without parents.” Mercury pointed to the air, as if lecturing. “They can be taught skills from a young age, which strengthens their chance of survival.”
“Uh-huh.”
Jackie looked up, uncomfortable. “I don’t know how I feel about that …”
“You should help me, Booth,” Mercury suggested. “After you murder everyone at the Black Cathedral.”
“There is no after.”
“Ha!” Peter let out a hearty laugh. “Escape one family and immediately get another. You have no luck, do you, John?”
My response was simple. “Fuck you, Peter.”
Turning back to Mercury and me, Katryn said, “If the girl proves too difficult for your journey, my tribe will offer her sanctuary. We have ways of discerning if her blood is mutated or of the old races. You have my word by the Old Gods that if it is, I will deliver her to her true people. If not, she may stay on as a member of our tribe.”
Jackie looked terrified rather than reassured. The Dunwych were a bigger boogeym
an than the Great Old Ones to the people of Scrapyard. Let alone the promise to hand her over to what Jackie undoubtedly thought were monsters.
Taking a deep breath, I knelt down so I was nearly eye level with Jackie, trying not to smile at the display. This was a serious subject. “I will find someone to care for you; you have my word.”
“Thank you,” Jackie said, staring up into my eyes. They were big and innocent despite what she’d endured.
That would not last.
“With the exception of one incident, John Henry Booth is an honorable man.” Katryn blinked her deep blue eyes and nodded solemnly, ignoring what the girl was saying. “You would do well to believe in him, child.”
“Yeah, John is really honorable.” Mercury nodded. “Except for the whole treason, lies, and revenge thing.”
I glared at her. Everyone trotting over the girl’s grief was obscene. “I may have lied to you about visiting Kingsport but I will get you there.”
“I’m holding you to that. In any case, I want her to come with us until you find an acceptable alternative guardian,” Mercury said, patting the young girl on the back. “That is, unless you want to accompany me to Kingsport. I’ll teach you how to do medicine and you can become a doctor. Eventually, with our superior knowledge, we can rule the Wasteland!”
Jackie smiled, probably respecting the sentiment even as she was even now looking at Mercury like she was insane. “That’s nice … really.”
Thankfully, Katryn changed the subject. “I would have words with you, John. If your quest actually means anything to you, we must share information.”
“I have every intention of doing so, Katryn.” I trusted the Dunwych priestess about as far as I could throw her, but she knew more about what was going on in the Wastelands than I ever would. “However, my feeling is a matter which takes precedence.”
“Yeah, Booth has decided he needs to meet with a Hawaiian-shirt-wearing ghoul.” Mercury didn’t bother to conceal her disbelief. I was beginning to wonder if someone had ever explained the concept of tact to her.
“Ah, yes, Richard Jameson.” Katryn nodded her head solemnly, tightly clutching her spear. “The Dream-Walker.”
Mercury blinked. “He wasn’t making that up?”
Ignoring her, I turned in the direction of Richard’s workshop, near the far edge of town. Jackie then grabbed hold of my pant leg. “Can I come, Mister Booth?”
I looked down at her, wondering why she was so panicked. Then I saw the eyes of the people around us: they were accusatory, distrusting, and occasionally even hateful. It was a monstrous reaction to a girl whose father had just been murdered. If Jackie was left alone, she might not survive. It seemed only the former Sheriff’s protection had kept her alive before. “Of course, young one.”
“Uh, Booth …” Mercury paused, “I’m not sure taking her with us to see a ghoul is wise.”
“I don’t mind Mister Jameson,” Jackie said. “He treats me like family.”
That was unsettling. “I see.”
Silence reigned until we reached our destination on the other side of town. Jameson’s Salvage and Reconstruction was a unique building in a town composed of unique buildings. It was, in many ways, a castle composed of junk. The original Pre-Rising garage was still visible in the central “courtyard” but it was surrounded by a fortress of pipe and steel.
Concrete smokestacks had been constructed to handle the interior smelting furnace, as thick walls made of abandoned cars surrounded the place. The strange building stood in the direct shadow of the town’s windmills with a number of power lines running toward the garage’s rooftop.
Despite this connection, it was clear Richard didn’t rely on the town’s own meager supply of electricity to satisfy his energy needs. He had his own windmill and a large number of solar panels lining the top of his roof—he probably had more power than the rest of the town put together.
The dweller had a rather pungent odor, a mixture of stench from nearby pigpens mixed with an earthy corpse-like smell. Mutated hairless rats popped in and out of the wall erected around his home, all of them hideous and red-eyed. Arriving at a thick wrought-iron gate, I wondered how I’d begin our conversation. Hello, Richard, long time no see. Would you mind working some sorcery on me? That was a conversation I was not looking forward to.
“This is not what I was expecting,” Mercury said, staring at the place.
“What were you expecting?”
“Something more … cyclopean.”
Many noises were coming from within his shop. Today, in addition to the din of tools at work, there was the sound of old Earth rock and roll coming from within.
“What is that ghastly din?” Mercury looked vaguely horrified by it. “Ghoul music?”
Katryn corrected her. “I believe it is called ‘Gas on the Lake.’”
“‘Smoke on the Water’!” Richard’s voice called from inside the building, apparently able to hear us from forty feet away.
That was when the shocking figure stepped out, the sun illuminating a figure of absolute terror.
Chapter Eleven
The nightmarish figure stepping out caused Mercury to seize up in horror, choke, and look ready to vomit. I, Katryn, Peter, and even little Jackie had more subdued reactions to Richard’s arrival. We merely looked uneasy, even if every instinct in our bodies told us to run away screaming. I was surprised to see Jackie was so good at it given her young age. Most children her age would have screamed, cried, and run away.
Hell, most adults as well.
Ghouls were a hideous sight by human standards. They had claws, fur, pointed ears, ugly hoof-like feet, and warty yellow-green skin. Their faces were the most unnerving thing about them, being an unnatural cross between a man’s and a wolf’s. Worse was how expressive they were, showing all of the emotions a human could, but in a twisted fashion.
Richard was a particularly repulsive example of his species, standing closer to the middle ground between man and monster than most. He was a walking, talking reminder of how close the relationship between our two species was.
As if to compensate for it, the ghoul wore outlandish attire. Today, it was a bright red shirt covered in pineapples, jean shorts, and sandals. It was such a ridiculous sight that for a moment, the dissonance seemed to relax Doctor Takahashi.
“Howdy, neighbor!” Richard said, walking up to the gate between us. I’d often wondered why Richard chose to live amongst humans of Scrapyard despite the prejudice he must endure. The only answer I’d ever gotten from him was, “Ghouls are immortal but only humans know how to live.”
“Hello,” I said, giving a pleasant wave to Richard, trying to hide my revulsion. “It’s good to see you.”
Finally, Mercury managed to say, “Hello, uh, Richard.”
“Hey, Mister Jameson!” Jackie waved to him, unafraid.
“Why hello, Little Jackie!” Richard leaned down to look at her square in the eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“My Da died,” Jackie said. “He was killed by slavers. These folks killed them.”
Richard looked down at her as if processing the information. “Uh-yeah, I heard some commotion in the village square earlier. I decided it wasn’t any of my business. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Jackie said. “They’re weird but I like them.”
Uncomfortable, I coughed into my left fist before saying, “Richard, I have need of your peculiar expertise.”
“First, introduce me to your companions. I have to be wary of strangers,” Richard said, smiling his demonic-looking canines. “Monsters aren’t always obvious.”
“Yes, I agree,” I calmly answered. “You know Katryn. This is Doctor Mercury Takahashi.”
“Nice to meet you,” Richard extended his hand to Mercury.
Mercury looked at the inhuman clawed grip. “Um.”
“Right.” Richard chuckled sadly, pulling his hand back. “So, what have you been up to, Katryn?”
“Hunting individuals wh
o have been kidnapping children so I can crush their skulls and turn their teeth into jewelry,” Katryn answered.
“So, the usual,” Richard said, grinning. “I was wondering when you’d return. Honestly, given the condition you left in, I wasn’t entirely sure I’d ever see you again.”
I blinked, unsure if I’d heard that correctly. “I was here?”
“Yes, you and Jessica.”
I reached through the gate’s bars, grabbing his shirt. It was a ridiculous gesture since Richard could rend me limb from limb. “Tell me everything.”
“You wandered in here, extremely delirious, with the girl.” Richard tried prying my fingers off his shirt, failing until I released him.
“So Jessica …” I said, still stunned. “She’s here?”
“Yeah,” Richard said, looking down at her with her deep, soulful eyes. “You two mounted an escape from the place where you were imprisoned. Jessica was badly injured, some sort of infection.”
“Go on.”
“I’ve been treating her with the old black magic. So far, no luck. Jessica just keeps getting worse and worse.”
“I see,” I said, feeling stricken. “I’ve found her just in time to watch her die.”
“It happens.” Richard said, spitting his cigarette onto the ground. “Oddly, John, I thought you were the one who was going to die for the longest time. Then, one day, you just got up in the middle of the night and wandered into the desert.”
Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. It didn’t explain how I’d gotten to New Arkham, though. That was almost eighty miles away. “Please, Richard, bring me to her. I beg you.”
“Okay, sure, John,” Richard said, opening the gate and letting us through. “But remember, you owe me. What did you come here for, anyway?”
I still needed to find out who’d done this to her; there was a chance she wouldn’t be able to tell me. “I need another favor.”
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