The Beast on the Tracks

by Amy Cross

  “So,” I say to Uncle Gene, as he continues to stare at me, “do you want sugar with your coffee?”

  ***

  It takes hours before I'm able to sneak out of the house, but finally Uncle Gene and Aunt Carol leave – with Uncle Gene still giving me strange looks – and Mom goes to rest on her bed, and I manage to get away.

  I come straight to the forest, of course.

  To say that I'm in a strange mood would be an understatement. The sky is darkening, and somehow all the weirdness from earlier seems to have dissipated. Everyone agrees that today was a hot day, but apparently I'm the only one who noticed just how profoundly unusual the sky and the air seemed. I guess it's possible that I got a little over-excited and that I've been exaggerating, but – the more I think about it – the more I feel certain that the world just seemed different today. The question is, did that difference play any part in what happened to Dad in the forest?

  When I reach the clearing, I see that the wood chipper has been moved away. I guess the police cleared the place pretty quickly, and they don't seem to be treating this place as any kind of a crime scene. That's a little surprising, since I would have thought that they'd want to be thorough in their investigation; then again, being thorough would require more work, and the local cops aren't exactly renowned for their dedication to the cause. As I make my way across the clearing and stop at the spot where the chipper was parked, I feel flicker of sadness at the realization that this is where Dad died.

  But only a flicker.

  I look around, to double-check that no-one's nearby, and then I crouch down. I reach through the dirt, trying to find the hatch that the cops mentioned, and sure enough I quickly discover a wooden edge. It takes me a few more minutes to trace the hatch's entire shape, and then a few minutes more to locate what seems to be some kind of handle. Already, I can tell that the hatch is a little wobbly, and I can totally understand how the weight of the chipper might have caused the wobbles to become stronger. I twist the handle and give it a pull, and to my surprise I find that the hatch actually opens surprisingly easy.

  So much for safety and security.

  Once the hatch is open, I stare down into absolute darkness. Fortunately I planned ahead, so I take the flashlight from my pocket and switch it on, shining it down into what turns out to be a set of wooden stairs leading deep under the forest. I'd kind of imagined that it'd be like this, although I'd also cautioned myself to not get too excited. Now, however, I reach down with my right foot and press against the top step, and then – finding it to be surprisingly sturdy so far – I start climbing carefully down into the icy bunker. Man, it's weird to think that these bunkers have been out here in the forest all this time without people really cottoning on.

  When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I aim the flashlight ahead and see a smallish, low-ceilinged room. There's a desk pushed against one wall, and a couple of chairs nearby, and a small bookshelf has been left leaning against the far wall. I head over and look down, and I find that all the books relate to wildlife and birds and shit like that. I take one at random and have a look, and I guess the pictures look pretty cool even if I don't really understand what I'm seeing. It's hard to work out exactly why someone built these bunkers, but apparently they're from the 1950's or earlier so, I guess, people must just have had weird ideas back then.

  If there's one thing I know from living in Sobolton all these years, it's that people can be super weird.

  Spotting some boards piled in the corner, I pull one out and see that it must be some old noticeboard. There are lots of little silver pins dotted all over, so after a moment I set the board flat on the desk. I reach into my pocket and pull out a bundle of tissues, and then I start carefully opening the tissues. There's quite a bit of blood inside, but finally I open the tissues fully to reveal Dad's ear and mouth. When the blades cut through his head, several chunks were thrown back toward the conveyor belt, and I rescue these two pieces. Maybe that's weird, I don't know, but they were so perfectly separated from the rest of his body that I felt like they were almost a gift.

  I set the pieces down, and then I take one of the silver pins and use it to carefully fix the ear in place. Somehow, the sensation of the tip slicing through the ear is strangely pleasant and makes all my worries fade away. I take another pin and insert it through the other end of the ear, and I feel even better. I'm starting to think that the wood chipper might have been trying to tell me something, something about the nature of existence and the universe. If it was trying to tell me that, and no-one else, then that must mean that it likes me. That it thinks I'm special.

  And it, in turn, is my god now.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Milly

  Today...

  “Isn't it amazing?” I say as I step back from the wood chipper. “I rescued it a few years ago, after it was left out for scrap. Isn't it the most beautiful thing you ever saw in your whole friggin' life?”

  For a few seconds, I'm too mesmerized by the sight of the chipper to really know what else I can say. I keep the chipper under tarpaulin precisely because of moments like this, when I'm utterly absorbed by the honor of seeing this magnificent machine. Ever since that day five years ago when Dad died, the chipper has represented everything that's good in the world. Whereas people are messy and crazy, the chipper is destiny. Despite all Dad's wailing and screaming, the chipper chewed him up without a second thought.

  The chipper is the only solid, reliable thing in this whole universe.

  Behind me, Richard lets out a faint, muffled murmur. I turn to him and see that he's staring at the chipper with wide-eyed horror, while at the same time he's trying desperately to get free from the ropes. In some ways, I'd like to remove the gag and hear what he's saying, but that can wait a while. The last thing I need is to get a headache right now.

  “I'm lucky,” I explain. “I don't know whether they just forgot, or whether there are some arcane rules, but this bunker still has a power supply. And you realize what that means, don't you?”

  I step around to the side of the machine and reach a finger out toward the red button, and then I hesitate. This isn't the first time I've been able to show the chipper off to anyone, but I'm still feeling pretty nervous. Richard is the tenth person I've managed to get down here into the bunker, and I love seeing the expressions on their faces whenever I switch the chipper on. They're always so impressed, and it's like getting a glimpse at my own reaction from all those years ago. When you've seen the face of God, it's always so much fun to watch other people as they go through the same moment of awakening.

  “Are you ready?” I ask, as a tingling sensation runs through my body.

  I wait a fraction of a second longer, just to build the expectation up even more, and then I push the button.

  The chipper immediately bursts to life, its enormous noise filling the room. I immediately start laughing as the conveyor belt starts running, and I love seeing the whites of Richard's eyes as he stares in stunned silence at this magnificent sight. I'm sure he's absolutely in awe right now, just as all the others were in awe as well. This is one of my roles now, revealing the power of the machine to unsuspecting people who are about to be given the ultimate honor. After all, the machine is hungry and has to be fed.

  “I know what you must be thinking!” I yell, struggling to be heard over the machine as I make my way over to the desk. “How did I get it down here? The answer's pretty easy! There was a lot of hard work, a lot of determination, and a fair amount of luck! It was all worth it, though! Down here in the engine room, this is where we feed our god and make him stronger!”

  As I say those words, there's a sudden spluttering sound over my shoulder. I turn just in time to see that the chipper seems to be vibrating slightly, although that stops after a few seconds. Still, that's a sound I haven't heard from it before, not even when it was cutting out on the day Dad died. I wait, to make sure that the chipper is alright, and then I tell myself not to worry. Everything is going to
be alright. God can't die.

  “Look!” I continue, taking Richard's phone and holding it up. “Watch this!”

  I toss the phone onto the conveyor belt and watch as it's delivered straight into the blades. Of course, the phone stands no chance against the fury and gets instantly destroyed.

  I take one of the scalpels from its case, then I check the time on my phone before turning to Richard.

  “Don't worry!” I shout. “I'm going to keep a memento from your visit down here! I always do! An ear and a mouth, to add to the boards! Otherwise, I'm not sure I'd be able to keep track!”

  I start making my way toward him, even as he struggles harder than ever.

  “I had to make up a lot of rules down here!” I continue. “I mean, otherwise it'd just be chaos. So the rules allow me to make sure that everything's in order. The first time I saw the chipper take a soul, it left behind an ear and a mouth, and I'm pretty sure that must be significant. So I copy, even if I'm not sure yet exactly what it means.”

  I stop next to him and take hold of his left ear with one hand, while using the other to place the scalpel against the bottom of the lobe. As I do so, Richard struggles again in the chair, and the wooden legs bump loudly against the bolts that are keeping them firmly fixed to the floor.

  “It's better if you don't fight like that,” I tell him, as I adjust the positioning of the blade. “You're going to become an offering. You should be pleased. The machine ate my father, and it ate all the other people I brought down here, and now it's going to eat you. This is my role in life. I'm the guardian of the god that lives in the machine. Everyone has to have a purpose. I'm just lucky that I found mine.”

  Behind me, the chipper splutters again. I turn and look over at it, and I notice that one of the panels seems to have come slightly loose. I briefly consider going over to make some repairs, but then I tell myself that there'll be time for that later, so I turn back to Richard.

  I wait for him to calm down and accept what's going to happen, but if anything he seems to be struggling more and more.

  “Fine, then,” I mutter, realizing that he's not going to get the message any time soon. “Here we go, then.”

  With that, I start cutting his ear off. His muffled cries get louder and louder, and he's shaking hard as he tries desperately to get free. I'm used to this kind of behavior, of course, so I don't let him distract me as I carefully cut up behind his ear. I have to work slowly in order to make sure that I don't make a mistake, but finally the main part of the ear has been removed and I turn the blade around so that I can get to the stringy part that's still holding it – just about – to the side of Richard's face.

  He's positively shuddering now, probably due to the pain, but I'm quick to finish severing the ear.

  “There,” I say with a smile, as the machine continues to rumble on the far side of the room. I make my way around to start removing Richard's other ear. “It never stops down here,” I continue. “The first time I encountered it, it kept stopping, but that wasn't the machine's fault. That was because -”

  Suddenly I hear a crashing sound over my shoulder, and I turn just in time to see that the hatch has been pulled open. A man is rushing down into the bunker, screaming at me, and I barely have time to react before he grabs me and pulls me away from Richard. I manage to take one of the knives from the desk and thrust it into the man's chest, and then I give the handle a twist. The man lets out a pained gasp and steps back, and then I push him until he lands on the machine's conveyor belt.

  I rush forward and hold the struggling hobo down, and then I keep him firmly in place as he's slowly fed into the machine. He cries and splutters, but he's too weak to get away and I watch as his head is destroyed by the flashing blades. Blood sprays from the machine's mouth, and I take a step back as I try to get my breath back. I have no idea who that man was, and he seemed to come out of nowhere and attack me. The machine is slowly drawing him into its teeth now, so at least I've managed to get rid of the guy, but I still want to know how he found me.

  “Who was that?” I gasp, turning and heading over to Richard. “This can't be a coincidence! Who -”

  Before I can finish, Richard lunges up at me, breaking free from the restraints and slamming hard into my chest. I fall back and crash against the wall, before dropping to the floor and letting out a pained cry as my left hand lands against the scalpel. I try to turn, but Richard hits the side of my head with his elbow, momentarily dazing me.

  As he clambers off me, I roll onto my side and wince at the pain in my hand, and then I struggle for a moment as I try to sit up. That whack to the head has made me feel a little dizzy, and for a few seconds my vision is horribly blurred. I can hear Richard bumping about nearby as the machine continues to roar, and then there's the sound of him running up the steps that lead back into the forest.

  “Wait!” I gasp, and then – as my vision starts to clear – I turn and see that he's already gone.

  I reach out and grab one of the pipes on the wall, using it to support myself as I haul myself up. Looking down at my left hand, I flinch as soon as I see that the scalpel's blade has run straight through one side of the pinky finger, almost severing it entirely. I take a deep breath as I feel the pain starting to burn through the wound, and then I start limping toward the bottom of the stairs.

  As I pass the desk, however, I notice that my phone is missing. I glance around, in case it's been knocked onto the floor, and then I realize that Richard must have grabbed it on his way out.

  “Get back here!” I shout, panicking in case he calls the cops and I get separated from my machine. “Come back! I won't let you -”

  Suddenly there's a loud bang, and I turn just as the wood chipper explodes in a flash. Several panels are blown clear across the room, and I have to duck in order to avoid being hit by one in the head. Thick black smoke is billowing from the engine, and I stare in horror as the machine falls silent. I tell myself that there's no way it could have blown up, that gods don't do that, but the control panel is hanging loose on the chipper's side and a foul, acrid stench is starting to fill the bunker.

  The hobo was chewed up almost completely, but when I look at the blades more closely I see that something's wedged deep. I pull on what turns out to be a chunk of metal, and finally I manage to drag out a fake lower leg. This must have belonged to the hobo, and for a moment I struggle to understand precisely what's happening tonight. Did some random hobo really just break into my bunker and then destroy the chipper while he was being ground down? Is that really how the universe works?

  “No,” I whisper, getting to my feet and using a sleeve to cover my mouth and nose as I make my way over, “this can't be happening. Why now? Why's everything going wrong tonight?”

  ***

  “Oh wow, Milly, is that you?”

  Stopping at the door to the diner, I see Debs of all people staring down at me with a horrified expression. I look at my left hand, which is still wrapped in the tissues I wrapped around it in the bunker, and then I look up at her again.

  “Where have you been?” she asks.

  “It's a long story,” I reply, struggling to sound even vaguely normal. “Um, what are you doing here? I thought you were at the party.”

  “Oh, yeah, Luke and I decided to get out of there. It was kinda lame.”

  “Luke?” I say, as I furrow my brow. “I thought you said he was a loser who kissed someone else.”

  “That was a total misunderstanding,” she replies. “Don't ask, it was just me being crazy as usual.” She rolls her eyes. “Say, Milly, are you sure you're okay? You look all... pale and dirty and stuff.”

  “I'm fine,” I say as I hobble up the stairs. “I just walked in from... Anyway, I need to sit down before I fall down. Do you mind?”

  I turn to leave, and then I notice a bloodied patch on Debs's nose.

  “What happened to you?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?” She hesitates, and then she goes a little cross-eyed as she looks
down at her own nose. “Oh, right. It's the craziest thing, you won't believe this but -”

  “You're right, I won't,” I say, feeling exhausted as I once again turn away. “Tell me in the morning.”

  I open the door and limp inside. As I go through, Luke's coming the other way. He looks at me as if I'm some kind of animal, but I push past him and head to the counter. I order a milkshake, and then I go over to one of the booths and throw myself down into a seat. I feel as if I could fall asleep for a thousand years at any moment, but I quickly tell myself that I have to stay awake. Wherever Richard is, he's a threat and I need to come up with two plans. One for if he's been to the cops, and one for if he's still lost out there in the forest.

  This has been one hell of a night.

  I feel numb.

  I reach into my pocket for my phone, only to remember at the last moment that it's gone. At least Richard won't have been able to unlock it, so it's not as if he'll be able to call for help from the middle of the forest. And that's even if he managed to get any coverage, which is unlikely. My best hope right now is that he's out there somewhere, running around like a headless chicken and maybe even getting hypothermia. There's always a chance that he made it out and went straight to the cops, but that's beyond my control now. I have to focus on dealing with the problem that I can (hopefully) still control.

  I can't let them separate me from the machine.

  I just can't.

  They wouldn't understand, they'd think that I'm crazy. I'm sure they'd have questions about the vagrants and transients who've disappeared in the area recently.

  Then again, Richard's decision to take my phone might actually be a blessing in disguise.

  I reach into my coat pocket and pull out my second, back-up phone. A while back, I set the two phones up so that they can track one another, so I figure that maybe I can locate Richard that way. I bring up the mapping app and tap to locate the other phone, and then I wait for the connection to be made.