The Fallen Prince That Never Was

by A. G. Higgins

  Chapter 12

  The Perfect Crime

  The cry of many brave soldiers rushed down the road to war. Soon a blackened cloud of gunpowder would fade, its lingering tip sliced by a spear of liberty, the rippling surface of a war–torn flag. And out from the darkness came a band of faithful brothers; those lost to another time and place. Enter the field of battle… but fortunately for some, they had a train to catch.

  ‘Are you crazy?!’ panicked Cara, Billy Jean Bad Leg and Sergeant Hang forcing her along an old wooded platform as the steam train prepared to make its arrival, ‘we need reinforcements – Call the President – Send in the Marines,’ she yelled, ‘someone get me a direct line to my Agent!’

  ‘Time’s of short, missy,’ said Sergeant Hang, ‘this here Colt suggest that you best keep moving.’

  When it came to a Colt negotiations were usually short – So were there out comes.

  Promptly, she decided to protest in a co–operative manner. Besides, her ticket had already been purchased.

  Reluctantly, she snapped it from the boned hand of the Station Master, ‘fine, but if anything happens to me, I’ll have you know that some actors would pay top dollar just to do my voiceover.’ Swiftly she was dragged aside, her voice unwillingly fading in the background as Sergeant Hang apologised – ‘I could have been an international superstar!’ – with a weak smirk of embarrassment.

  Now, a line of weary passengers took note of the train’s arrival, its wheels of iron screeching in their lock. Out from the rising steam marched Sergeant Hang, popping open the end door of the rear carriage before boarding in a timely fashion. Soon to follow was Billy Jean and some relatively new recruits.

  As the train departed, out from a falling cloud of steam beyond the far end of the platform, the shadowed outline of a vessel squeaked upon its wheels? Captain Wide Front Silver stood proud and firm upon its bow. Behind, his First Mate pushed a lever up and down, giving motion to the craft’s sluggish rotation of wheel.

  Apparently, the short straw was all too common in his line of work. However, the chase was but a foot. Slowly... the vessel squeaked on some more.

  Wisely, the Station Master closed up shop. Besides, a rebel’s flag hung from the end of that departing train just now didn’t seem right?

  Sergeant Hang moved to a crate that lay in the centre of the carriage, motioning to Billy Jean for his assistance in lifting its lid open. He promptly gave a hand without question – his entire forearm to be precise!

  Using Billy Jean’s forearm as a makeshift crowbar, Sergeant Hang lifted its lid. It took a few false starts – Crack? – and some broken fingers. Out from the cover of darkness came the glint of weaponry.

  ‘Now listen up you lot cause I ain’t none the time to say this twice,’ yelled Sergeant Hang above the rattling of the train, ‘Commander Coop’s orders – weapons to be given or returned to you here recruits once on board; couldn’t take the chance on you bailing out on us before then.’ He now made his way to the top of the carriage, opening its end door before venturing out into the open air. Upon the outer platform he stepped into the next carriage. Once inside, he froze awkwardly... Apparently, they seemed to have boarded the wrong train?!

  Yes, before him, running along either side of the carriage was a line of rebel soldiers! – Something needed to be done? Striking the first soldier to hand seemed like the fairest thing to do. They could clam a refund on their ticket price later.

  ‘Now is our chance!’ yelled Estaru, shoulder to shoulder in a scuffle of rags and bones, ‘if we can reach the locomotive there may be a chance to steer our own course before it’s too late!’

  ‘Come on,’ agreed Suzan, ‘what are you waiting for… move!’

  On they raced, pushing their way past many soldiers who wrestled with the next – some strangely enough, who wrestled with themselves? However, Sergeant Hang and poor old Billy Jean would soon give chase, keen not to let their recruits’ desert so soon.

  Bang! – A rebel fell to the floor?

  When it came to Billy Jean’s shooting skills at least it was something – Click?! – but there was always Sergeant Hang’s Colt that you could count on.

  ‘Blast, always the hard way!’ he said, the rebel soldier hindering his shot.

  ‘Damn it Serge, somethings wrong with them living folk if you ask me?’ said Billy Jean, ‘yes sir, as sure as your wife’s cooking.’

  Sergeant Hang couldn’t agree more. His wife’s cooking was a subject matter best left unsaid.

  Outside, Estaru jammed the door, urging Zack and Suzan to make their way atop of the carriage with the aid of a roof ladder. Beneath a veil of creamy–white smoke they dashed across the rooftops, hoping to reach the locomotive as the train began to wined its body about the canyon’s waist, climbing higher and higher, a far into the final frontier.

  ‘There’s no use Serge,’ moaned poor old Billy Jean, ‘they’ve done wrong by us; real good too if ever I’ve known it.’

  ‘Commander Coop won’t be none too pleased about this,’ replied Sergeant Hang, trying to pry the door open – Snap? – Billy Jean’s fingers were beginning to run short... If only there was another way?

  In the corner of their eyes a door at the far end of the carriage swayed loosely. Billy Jean had tried to point it out earlier, but at the time his hands were preoccupied.

  Estaru reached the locomotive. Popping down from above, he quickly disposed with a rather small bag of bones. The driver really wasn’t much else!

  ‘Hey, where is the kid?’ asked Cara, trying to catch her breath as she joined him.

  ‘Just stick to the plan, as will they.’

  ‘Plan... since when did we have a plan?!’

  But Estaru paid no heed to the fairy, eyeing the many locomotives’ controls, the track ahead and a brightly burning fire fuelled of coal behind him. Truly he was at a loss?

  ‘Any suggestions,’ asked Cara, ‘or would this be a good time to dial 911?’

  ‘You can start by keeping this here fire burning brightly,’ said a voice, ‘it’s been the heart of this fair train for some odd years, I guess? It doesn’t make good sense to go changing that now, eh?’

  An old train engineer stepped out from the shadow. He was armed with a shovel... and some brittle teeth.

  Cara braced herself; those gums looked dangerous.

  ‘I ain’t mean you no harm,’ he continued, ‘I just shovel some – It’s the job, I figures – never did know when to quit.’

  ‘Then no harm shall come to you, my friend,’ replied Estaru, ‘but we must change our course.’

  ‘Course... why there ain’t no changing course, stranger?’ he replied, ‘there ain’t no other line. This here is what you might be inclined to call a one way ticket.’

  He had a point, after all, it was written on the small print of their ticket.

  Atop of the train’s carriages Zack tried to fend them off the ill rot of undead soldiers who now followed. But soon he would be out numbered, divided by a wall of bone from Suzan and Morku who trailed behind. With choice all but few, he came to a screeching halt. It seemed now that there was nothing he could do?

  The wall of bone closed in – Snatch?! – Suddenly, a coach mailbag hook swung him wildly throughout the air.

  Apparently, it was the express line.

  Across the air he flew, out over the cannon’s edge as it rushed beneath his feet before finally being released upon the opposite side of the boned wall. Unsteady in his landing, he came now to a sudden halt beside Suzan, relieved for his lucky escape.

  Click?! – ‘Gotcha, you wee critter!’

  To be fair, Sergeant Hang felt that Billy Jean could have pushed his rifle closer. An inch to a shot like his was like giving a mile – Click! – He would have to settle for his revolver too.

  ‘Do you know what the penalty is when it comes to deserting?’ he asked, allowing the aid of his Colt to suggest the answer. But neither Zack nor Suzan would dare reply. Instead their sight began to shift somew
here beyond Sergeant Hang’s revolver?

  Slowly, the Magical Lock covered its eyes as Morku began to kneel? – Thud! – They never saw it coming. But poor old Billy Jean and Sergeant Hang would never forget that damn tunnel again.

  ‘There must be a way?’ said Estaru.

  ‘No, Sir,’ replied the engineer, ‘the only way is up the side of this here canyon.’

  ‘And this here canyon leads to...’ prompted Cara worriedly.

  ‘Well I...’ tried the engineer before pausing for a moment, ‘Well I, I don’t quite recall now that you come to mention it? Why in all my years of eternity and some – heck, even when I was a youngling kicking and breathing – we never made it to no destination as such?’

  ‘Come again?’

  ‘Well you see,’ he began, ‘it’s largely due to them there cannons and what not up yonder – Rattles your bones some too!’

  Estaru and Cara slowly began to turn around. Beyond the daylight of the tunnel “Them there cannons and what not” were fast approaching – Boom! – A little too fast.

  ‘Hit the brakes,’ screeched Cara, desperately fidgeting with any instrument close to hand, ‘would you ever stop shoveling?!’

  ‘Sorry,’ replied the engineer, trying greatly to resist the temptation that was to fuel the fire, ‘it just doesn’t seem natural by my reckoning, that’s all?’

  ‘Never mind that,’ yelled Estaru, grasping a set of levers to his left, ‘just pull whatever you can...hurry!’

  ‘Oh, I told you we should have purchased a rail guide!’ she fumed hysterically. After all, a track lined with dynamite was sure to be a point of interest for would–be commuters, wasn’t it?

  The darkness only lasted for a moment. The sound of great iron wheels echoed loudly with the passing of the tunnel, before the light of day broke once more.

  ‘That was pushing it a bit close, don’t you think?’ cringed Suzan, her cheeks covered in soot as she lay face down upon the carriage rooftop.

  ‘You can say that again,’ said Zack, daring a glance beyond the rooftop, ‘come on, it looks like we’re in the clear?’

  Oddly, the sound of cannon fire echoed throughout the air? – Boom! – A lone scrap of wood hissed with trails of dark smoke, falling at their feet in a furious spin. Apparently, the carriage behind had just exploded?!

  ‘Ach, and to think that I paid First Class for this?’ said the Magical Lock, the rooftop beginning to quake uneasily beneath them.

  All eyes shifted uneasily...The roof caved in!

  Zack clawed his way through a heap of rubble, gazing upon the edges of the broken ceiling above in disbelief. Two his left, Morku’s feet wiggled upright. To his right, Suzan seemed unimpressed – He could tell.

  Dusting himself off, he attempted to stand. However, a dozen rifles, two lengthily pistols and a half rotted corpse had other intentions?!

  The train rushed through the darkness of another tunnel. Cue one orderly punch–up!

  Daylight broke harsh and fast through the rushed opening of a carriage end door. Zack and Suzan stumbled out to the sound of brawling soldiers unaware of their leave. Swiftly, they ventured among the ruins of the next carriage. And the wheels of the train thundered forth, slicing the fuse of dynamite which lay before it. Its force was devastating, and in its rise a carriage was torn from its track. Weeping with debris and ends set alight, it tumbled through the air. Zack could almost feel the loom of its shadow as it crashed down before him. Narrowly, it missed Suzan as she rushed beneath its fall for cover, crushing everything in its path before at last it tumbled over the canyon’s edge. But it was not without price. In its rage it dragged many carriages with it, as one by one they toppled over the edge to that of the next – the train severed midway in its length!

  Zack and Suzan reach out to the lifeless grasp of air. The fate of their carriage was no different. Down it plunged!

  Through clouds of dust, heavy in fall and slow to part, a line of torn carriages hung uneasily over the side of the canyon’s edge. Finally bringing the train’s locomotive to an ease, Cara and Estaru swiftly made their way to the wreckage with not a moment to lose. Suzan and her companions seemed fine, but there was to be no sign of Zack? Had he survived? Trapped perhaps, somewhere within the wreckage below?

  ‘Zack...’ cried Suzan, ‘are you alright?!’ She leaned over the edge, her sight desperately searching the carriages below, ‘we have to help him – he’s still down there!’

  But the iron beast did begin to slip and Estaru was forced to heave her away to safety, ‘there’s nothing you can do for him now,’ he tried, ‘stay back you fool!’

  ‘No, I won’t leave him,’ she pleaded, ‘we can still help!’

  ‘You must; he would not wish you to share in his fate!’

  There was nothing she could do. There was nothing that anyone could do.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ gasped Cara, ‘he’s gone... he’s really gone?’

  ‘Ach, brave a wee kid if ever there was. Ah’ll not forget him so easily.’

  But Suzan could not find words to express how she felt. In the moments of silence that followed she was simply lost.

  ‘Look’s like you’ll be needing to climb down if ever you’re going to find your friend?’ said the engineer calmly, appearing just behind Estaru while gazing over his shoulder to see what all the fuss was about, ‘such a task doesn’t bear standing much in the way of thought. But I have to admit, it’s been one hell of a journey – never made it this far before with half a train left?’ He eyed the wreckage below, ‘of course, there’s always the chance the wee youngling made it to that cave down yonder?’

  ‘Cave...?’ asked Suzan, ‘What cave––tell me?!’

  ‘Sure,’ he replied with ease, ‘why if you got yourself to that fine ridge of rock down some... ain’t no reason why a man couldn’t make it?’ He kicked a rock over the edge, watching it as it fell to its death, ‘anyway, I got some rope out back if you want try?’

  ‘Well, what are we waiting for,’ cried Cara, ‘come on, let’s get this show back on the road!’

  Suzan’s eyes met with Estaru’s. It was a long way down and he didn’t like heights all that much. But it seemed that she gave him little choice.

  ‘And that is your account, Sir,’ asked General Ford, quite baffled by Commander Coop’s report, ‘to the fullest and unquestionable truth so help you God?’

  ‘Yes, Sir,’ he replied, glancing down the length of his decade body which now lay suspiciously covered throughout in fresh wound–clot, ‘I did advance upon the enemy with utmost integrity. In my darkest hour I rose forth from the earth like a Meerkat quivering in the face of Hell. But no matter the darkness, unwilling to neither coward nor leave valiant brother of arms behind, I bodily pressed on. And like David and Goliath, I would cast my stone at precisely the right moment. And I did say, “Weasel, with moments such as this it is only natural to express emotion for close camaraderie before our end. So it will come as no surprise when I say...sod off you annoying git!” Then I shot him, Sir.’

  ‘You shot him?’

  ‘Yes, Sir... they, shot him,’ he quickly restated, ‘Alas in my rage – of fallen brother – I did charge the field of battle most untimely. Thus, Sir, my part in the Big Push had come to its end. Though I wished to go on... I could do no more.’

  ‘Outstanding,’ gasped General Ford, ‘it is absolutely outstanding that given your condition, you still managed to place our flag atop of the enemy’s ridge?’

  ‘Flag, Sir?’ asked Commander Coop worriedly.

  ‘Why yes, the flag,’ he replied firmly, ‘you did follow orders did you not, Mr. Coop?’

  ‘But, Sir, I...’

  ‘You do know what the penalty is for blatantly disobeying orders do you not?’

  ‘Yes, of course, Sir,’ he replied weakly, ‘but if I could explain the importance of being killed in action, I’m sure you will...’

  ‘Explain not, Mr. Coop,’ fumed General Ford, ‘damn it man, did you or did you
not place our flag upon the enemy’s ridge?!’

  This was it; Commander Coop would have to think fast.

  ‘No, Sir...’

  General Ford frowned deeply...‘oh well, it can’t be helped,’ he said cheerfully, ‘I’m sure there will be plenty of other chances to give them a good trashing, eh old chap?’

  ‘But of course, Sir, no doubt that is why we are still slugging it out here, I suspect.’

  ‘Quite right, Mr. Coop, quite right,’ he replied unmindfully, ‘now then, gentlemen, I would like to turn our attention to this new recruit business – They’ve done a runner, you say?’

  ‘Yes, Sir... lost after the wreckage.’

  ‘And poor old Billy Jean and that of his Sergeant?’

  ‘Officer Weasel,’ prompted Commander Coop, his Staff Sergeant unraveling a piece of paper before him.

  ‘Sir, yes, Sir...’ began Officer Weasel efficiently, ‘to date, items deemed to be the sole property of the United Government are as such; one forearm, a well used pair of denture’s and a unusual leg attached to the end of a walking stick, Sir.’

  ‘And to whom exactly do they belong to?’ asked Commander Coop.

  ‘Can’t rightly say, Sir? But Johnny Wood Knee as shotgun on the denture’s if they are not claimed from the Lost & Found within twenty–four hours – I quite like the leg myself.’

  ‘Thank you, Weasel,’ replied Commander Coop wearily, ‘as usual I rise this morning only to find that you’re still here.’

  ‘Why that’s might kind of you, Sir.’

  ‘Alright, that’s enough,’ interrupted General Ford, ‘I’m sure that with their fine soldiering skills they will no doubt turn up at some point or other.’

  ‘Several points,’ said Commander Coop boldly.

  ‘I could have some of the men search the native camps, if you’d like?’ suggested Officer Weasel.

  ‘Yes...’ replied Commander Coop disinterestedly, ‘perhaps the contents of a vulture’s stomach may overturn some clues as to their whereabouts, I’m sure.’

  ‘It’s settled then,’ stated General Ford delightedly, ‘have your Staff Sergeant give one of those vermin’s a good old rogering. But come now, something needs to be done about this whole deserting business?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Sir?’

  ‘You know, Mr. Coop; chase them down like the scoundrels they are – a good hanging I should think?!’ stated General Ford firmly, ‘We can’t have the men believing that they can just simply leg it, now can we? If we aloud that short of thing, why all Chain of Command would come crashing down – Total chaos! – and we wouldn’t be very good at our jobs if that was to happen, now would we?’

  ‘Sorry, did you say “Chain of Command” or... something to that effect, Sir?’

  ‘That he most definitely did, Sir,’ confirmed Officer Weasel, ‘like when I told you about our brilliant plan to avoid going over the top, only...’

  ‘Yes alright, just shut up Weasel,’ swiftly interrupted Commander Coop, ‘unless, of course, you would prefer to be struck across the back of your head by a short hand?’

  ‘What hand...’

  Smack!

  ‘That one...’

  ‘I’m sorry, what was that?’ asked General Ford.

  ‘Nothing much, Sir,’ replied Commander Coop while lowering his hand, ‘I was merely showing Officer Weasel how the simple rules of Chain of Command work. Weasel has a thought,’ he suggested, ‘and it’s struck down by his brain.’

  ‘But, Sir...’

  Smack!

  ‘Hand in point, I think you will agree.’

  ‘Very good,’ replied General Ford, ‘but that doesn’t solve our problem? Someone must hang. Face the firing squad. Rations halved... perhaps even just bread and water?’

  ‘Forgive me, Sir, but I think that you will find that we only ever have bread and water. Face a firing squad of up to thirty–thousand or more ever moment of the day. And most of the men would give their right arm and a wad of cash, just to be hanged so as not to see another day slugging it out in the trenches – And that, Sir, was when we were alive,’ said Commander Coop, ‘Punishment, as such, only brings the phrase; a bugger... not again, to mind? Indeed, Sir, if you were to simply bring them back after a sort taste of freedom that would be a deterrent in its self. Call me crazy and hang my socks out to dry, but I’d rather prance around out there wearing nothing more than a pair of cheap underwear over my head, than spend another second in this Hell’s damnation.’

  ‘Boy George you’ve got it, Mr. Coop!’ yelled General Ford delightedly.

  ‘I have, Sir...?’

  It seemed that it may have been a cunning delight?

  ‘Well it’s like you said, Mr. Coop,’ he explained, ‘we’ll hunt them down if just to bring them back... genius!’

  ‘Ah...?’

  ‘Why that is just the kind of sprite we are looking for around here,’ continued General Ford deviously, ‘daring, brave and damn right bordering on the disobedient – There’s simply no other for the job!’

  The Commander’s jaw dropped, ‘Job?’ Officer Weasel held it in place.

  ‘Yes, Mr. Coop... job,’ confirmed General Ford, ‘It’s quite simple really; your Staff Sergeant will go in search of those rascals and bring them back to me.’

  ‘And by “your Staff Sergeant” I take it that you mean that I should be standing next to him... out there?’

  ‘But of course not, Mr. Coop,’ he replied reassuringly, ‘I think that you will find in most formal armaments, that it is your Staff Sergeant whom should be standing by your side. Why to suggest otherwise would be of insult to a man of your ranking.’

  ‘So I see...’ thought Commander Coop, ‘but if we are to hunt these rascals down – as you say – wouldn’t that mean...?’

  ‘Oh yes, Mr. Coop, bravely daring the lines of no–man’s–land, venturing beyond the wreckage that was once an iron beast, and a far beyond the enemy camp to none other than the road to Mandalay.’

  ‘You mean Fort Mandalay, the Fort Mandalay... across the furthest reaches of any survival. A journey famously feared by the entire Military – that Fort Mandalay?’

  ‘But of course,’ replied General Ford playfully, ‘now don’t fret, Mr. Coop, you’re bound to come across those rascals – sooner rather than later I hope. No doubt they will never make it that far; not with all the dangers that lay in wait out there. Heavens no! And you’re the braver man for it, Mr. Coop. If only I were a younger? Oh the great thrill of youth we old chaps must sadly decline.’

  ‘Naturally...’ he painfully replied.

  ‘Good, it’s settled then,’ he remarked before dismiss his brave Commander, ‘very well, time is of sort – do carry on.’

  ‘Of course, Sir,’ replied Commander Coop, ‘come on, Weasel, grab a pair of reins from the stable. It’s time to see how good that shoddy impression of a horse of yours is?’

  ‘Just one more thing before you leave, Commander,’ added General Ford, ‘since you are going to be passing the enemy camp... don’t you think that this would be the perfect time to plant our flag as ordered?’

  He wasn’t asking. He wasn’t joking either.

  The swift unraveling of a rope drew down along the canyon’s cliff face. Estaru lead the way to the harsh earth of the cave floor. With no sight of Zack, all was deathly quiet and his feelings told him greatly that something was amiss? They would need to remain unnoticed if he was to uncover its true meaning.

  ‘Land!’ cried Cara, marking the arrival of Suzan and Morku who soon followed, ‘I’m sure glad that that’s over,’ she gave the line one last reassuring tug, ‘you know, for a second there I didn’t think it would hold?’

  Slash?! – The rope whipped furiously to a distant depth.

  ‘What in tarnation?!’

  She paused awkwardly, daring not to look around – The engineer short past?!

  Estaru didn’t seem pleased, ‘technically, he was one of the enemy, wasn’t he?’ she tried.

  ‘Q
uiet,’ he hissed, ‘from this moment forth you need only worry of what I tell you to do, understand?’

  ‘Why, what’s wrong?’ asked Suzan, ‘what is it that you see?’

  ‘It seems, my lady, not of what do I see but of not... is the question?’ he replied while searching for a clue to aid his thought, ‘However, one thing I am certain of is that your companion has passed this way... though he was not alone?’

  ‘Zack,’ she gasped, ‘tell me what you see; what happened to him?!’

  A grave look crossed Estaru’s face, ‘tracks,’ he began, ‘signs... as if the earth its self were alive, concealing with every breath all traces but few for aid of hunt? Something, that of yet, I have never seen before?’ Estaru eyed the earth carefully, searching for more signs, ‘he moved unknowingly this far at least. For a time he took shelter. Though after such, all traces of your companion are but gone?’ Quickly he rose to his feet, ‘we must go north for whoever followed did not wish to remain here?’

  ‘He’s in trouble, isn’t he?’ she said, ‘it’s my fault. I should have kept searching for him?’

  ‘If you had, then you would not be in a position to help him when he needs you the most,’ said Estaru, ‘come, save your passion for later; we must move with haste. I fear that much danger may follow his every move...’

  Zack lay unconscious. Dazed from the fall, he had wondered unknowingly deep into the cave. But as he lay within the darkness, a beastly being crossed his path, and it did snatch him from the earth?! When he came to he could not remember what had happened. He was lost in a dream like state, feeling as though he were merely floating above the earth beneath the scorch of the midday sun. Wearily, his head drifted to one side to where the wheel of cart rotated, and beyond, the proud movement of beings did walk in cover of shadow? But his eyes felt heavy. And so darkness to light and shadow to sun, time did begin to slip away once more. Slowly, his world fell into darkness once more...

  Estaru rose from the earth, standing now overlooking a vast barren land of reddish soil. In the distance stretched the flattened peak of lone mountains, glorious beneath a clear blue sky. And slowly he did merge out from the canyon’s cave, its walls looming overhead to the hold of rocky pillars as he stood atop of its opening to search the horizon. His scent for the hunt was growing stronger; wiser for those whom would conceal their movement. But they moved quickly. If he was still to follow, he could not afford to lose more time. With one last gaze across the earth he did beckoned Suzan and her companions onward, venturing down the canyon’s side, deep into the unknown.

  The boy had put his trust in him when all others would not. One way or another, he intended to repay his deed this day.