by H. Duke
A hand closed on his ankle. No. How would he protect Sara? He fought, but the hands were too strong—there seemed to be more than one person grabbing him, now. They dragged him back down the chute until he landed on the floor of the shop.
When Thaddeus looked up, Officer Powers’ eyes were staring right back at him.
“Where is the girl?”
“You’ll never find her,” Thaddeus coughed. “You can do what you like to me, but you won’t find her.”
The murmur of the crowd behind Officer Powers grew fevered in response to his refusal.
“Take him somewhere. We’ll question him. He has to tell us where the girl is,” voices from the crowd said in a weirdly-synchronized call and return.
Officer Powers gulped and nodded towards two of the men.
Two people grabbed Thaddeus by the upper arm, one on either side. He struggled as they pulled him out of the shop, trying to break free, but as they passed the corner to the alley where the chute must have let out, Thaddeus saw a set of eyes peek out at him from behind a pile of broken boxes. Sara.
He shook his head at her, hoping that she would get the message: Stay hidden, don’t come out.
She backed away into the shadows.
Good girl, he thought, but he’d need to make sure they wouldn’t see her.
He began to buck, throwing his captors off balance. “You’ll never take me!” He shouted. He wanted to create as much of a scene as possible.
“Shut up,” one of the men said, and punched him in the cheekbone.
Blood welled into Thaddeus’ mouth, but he continued to struggle.
“Let me go!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. One of the men wrapped their arms around his waist, and he lifted his legs into the air, forcing them to hold his entire body weight. The man toppled, and they fell onto the rough cobblestone.
The next thing he knew, fists rained down on him. When they lifted him again, he was too stunned from the blows to fight back, but his mission was complete: They hadn’t seen Sara. Stay hidden, Thaddeus silently commanded her, hoping against hope that she would somehow hear him.
He half-noted that he was being dragged through a doorway. Finally, he was plopped down in a chair. He glanced around the room, which spun a little. It was filled with the nineteenth-century equivalent of a child’s chemistry set: tests tubes of various sizes, Bunsen burners, and jars containing viscous liquids of various colors. A two-sided chalkboard on wheels was pushed into one corner. It was covered in formulas and numbers that Thaddeus couldn’t unravel even if he had hours to look at them, let alone the few seconds he had.
The faces of several members of the mob were visible through a door. Above them Thaddeus could make out the ink-darkened sky. That was the door he’d been brought in through.
Two voices conversed nearby, but his face hurt too much to really see their owners. Both sounded familiar.
Officer Powers sat on a chair opposite to Thaddeus. His eyes were darker and emptier than ever.
“T-t-tell us where the girl is,” he said. His voice sounded emptier, too, more like that of the mob outside.
Thaddeus spat a stream of phlegmy blood. “Go to hell.”
“You must tell us. She plays a part.”
“You people keep saying that as though it means something,” Thaddeus said. “You’re all possessed.”
“You will t-tell us where she is. The injuries you have already sustained are a small fraction of what will happen t-to you if you don’t.”
Thaddeus suddenly felt presences looming on either side of him. He recognized two of the men who had beaten him in the alley. They leered at him.
“L-l-look around you,” Officer Powers said. “This room is filled with all kinds of instruments of torture, if one just uses their imagination.” Officer Power’s stutter faded as his eyes got emptier and emptier.
Thaddeus squared his jaw. Torture resistance techniques were standard training at the Academy. He wouldn’t break… but he couldn’t help but see the burners, the sharp scalpels, and plyers. It was going to be one hell of night. Would the Pagewalker and her friends come to save him? He supposed that they would have to before the portal closed, but time moved more quickly here. He might have to last days of torture before then.
“Mark my words—no one will notice a Yankee who disappears in the bowels of London.”
“I would.”
Thaddeus turned towards the voice. It was the first one he’d heard since he’d lifted Sara from the street that didn’t sound deranged. Enfield stood in the doorway, the zombie-like people outside staring at him stupidly. To Thaddeus’ relief, his eyes were normal, and filled with concern.
“What is the meaning of this?” Enfield demanded. Officer Powers’ eyes took on a look of calculation as they appraised the enraged dandy. He didn’t seem happy at his presence. Neither did the others—but then again, none of them had shown much emotion since they’d gone empty-eyed.
“This man kidnapped a child,” Officer Powers said, “We’re trying to ascertain her location.” His stutter was now completely gone.
“I witnessed this alleged ‘kidnapping.’ Mr. Broker saved the child from being run over.”
Officer Powers raised an eyebrow. “Did you witness this man running off afterwards, with the child in his arms?”
Doubt flickered across the lawyer’s face. “I chose instead to pursue the would-be trampler.”
“Indeed,” Officer Powers replied with a sneer. “Then you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I know this man has been beaten while in your custody.” Enfield turned towards Thaddeus. “Please do not take this treatment as a reflection of our city. This is quite irregular. I would call the police, but it seems they are unfortunately involved in this sordid affair.”
Officer Powers’ stared blankly at Enfield. “This is police business. You must leave us to question the kidnapper.”
Enfield was quiet for a moment before shaking his head resolutely. “I cannot do this. I have a moral obligation to see that this man is treated fairly until his lawyer arrives.”
“Lawyer?” Officer Powers’ brow furrowed.
“Yes. I’m sure my cousin, Mr. Gabriel Utterson, will not hesitate to rush to Mr. Broker’s aid once he learns what has gone on here tonight.”
The murmuring of the people at the door fell silent at the sound of the name. The only noise was Officer Powers’ sharp intake of breath.
Enfield, totally oblivious to the crowd’s reaction, said, “I’ll give two copper pieces to anyone who will fetch him. I’d go myself, but I fear you would kill him before I return. Anyone?”
Just as suddenly the mob began whispering again. “He must not go… The lawyer cannot come here…” they repeated one after another.
If Enfield thought this was strange, he didn’t show it. “Heathens,” he said with a curled lip. “You’d rather crucify this man than see true justice served.” He turned back to Officer Powers. “If no one is willing to go, then I will have to stay and act as my cousin’s proxy. You may proceed with your questioning.”
Officer Powers’ gaze darted nervously towards the mob, and his eyes lost of some that emptiness. When he glanced back at Enfield, he seemed just as afraid of him. “Very well.”
He turned back to Thaddeus. “Where is the girl?”
Thaddeus didn’t respond. Officer Powers could go to hell for all he cared. He questioned him for several more minutes, but Thaddeus refused to answer.
Officer Powers seemed fidgety, angry. Why weren’t they treating Enfield the same way they were treating him? Why were they so afraid of his lawyer cousin coming? Officer Powers ran his hand over a hinged wooden case on the table between them. Thaddeus hadn’t noticed the box before.
The fidgeting irritated Enfield. “What’s in the box, anyway?” he leaned in, but Officer Powers covered the box.
A hiss passed through the crowd. Was it Thaddeus’ imagination, or were they pressing in closer on the doorframe?
“N
o,” Powers said. “You can’t look. You’re not supposed to know.”
“Know? Know what? Is this the true reason for Mr. Broker’s inhumane treatment?”
He reached for the box, and Officer Powers grabbed his wrist.
“Unhand me!” Enfield said. “Is brute force the way you handle all your problems?”
“You’re not supposed to know,” Officer Powers repeated, his eyes becoming even more empty, the last vestiges of the slight humanity he’d shown since Enfield’s arrival disappearing.
“Unless you intend to beat me senseless as well, I suggest you remove your hand.”
Officer Powers considered his words, then his hand fell away from Enfield’s wrist.
“Right.” He lifted the lid, revealing rows of vials. He plucked one from the box. It held a clear, thick liquid. “What is this substance? Some sort of hallucinogen, perhaps? Essence of poppy?”
The vial was wrapped with a label. On the side facing Thaddeus was written, “fortification serum.” Enfield began turning the tube towards him so that he could read it.
Faster than a flash Officer Powers reached out and pulled the vial from the lawyer’s grasp.
“Give that back!” Enfield reached for the vial.
Officer Powers glanced dimly between the vial and the Enfield before his eyes came to a stop on the glass tube. He pulled out the stopper and poured the liquid into his mouth before crushing the container in his hands.
“Why, you’re completely mad,” Enfield said. “I am taking Mr. Broker from this place at once, on the grounds that you are not fit to conduct this investigation!”
Officer Powers did not respond. His face began to twitch, as did the tips of his fingers. The effect quickly spread up his limbs and into his core. He appeared to be having a violent seizure. His forehead protruded slightly, like a Neanderthal’s, those empty eyes becoming hooded and recessed, the jaw thicker, squarer.
Enfield grabbed Thaddeus’ hand and pulled him from his chair. Thaddeus winced but found he could stand. He limped behind Enfield. The two goons stepped into their way, crossing their arms. The message was clear: they wouldn’t allow them to leave.
“He stays,” one said. “He must return the girl. She has a part to play.”
“You’re all mad,” the lawyer said. “Let us pass.”
The men didn’t move.
“Very well. Then you will have to apprehend me, too, because I will fight you to the last.” He took Thaddeus’ hand and pulled him past the men and into the mob on the other side of the door.
Thaddeus braced himself for a fight, but none came. While the mob didn’t move aside, they didn’t try to stop them, either. Why were they so wary of Enfield?
“If you know the location of this girl,” Enfield whispered to him, “You must tell me. My cousin will need to know the facts to defend you effectively…”
The mob closed in around them, leering at Thaddeus. “Give her back,” someone called.
“Has the entire world lost its mind?” the lawyer said. “I promise you, this is not how the citizens of London normally act. There must be something in the water.” The lawyer yelled into the crowd as they broke the edge of it. “You should be ashamed of yourselves! Persecuting this man when you have no proof of his crimes. He saved a child from probable death; I saw it with my own two eyes.”
Every eye in the mob was on Enfield, though Thaddeus doubted any of them heard the words of his speech. They all had the same calculative expression that Officer Powers had, almost as though they were afraid of him.
If he was going to escape, this was the best time to do it, when everyone was distracted. He slipped back into the shadows. He recognized the store where he and Sara had hid earlier. All the windows were broken ad the door had been pulled off its hinges.
He slipped around the side into the alley.
“Sara?” he whispered into the darkness.
A few moments passed, and he was filled with anxiety that the mob had gotten her—but then she stepped out from behind a pile of boxes.
“They hurt you,” she said.
Relief flooded his body. “It’s nothing. I already feel better.” In truth he probably had a concussion, but he was able to walk if he ignored the pain in his ribs. He held his hand out to her. “Come on.”
They glanced around the corner of the building. The mob was still listening to Enfield’s rant—the man sure could talk. In the glowing window of the house behind him, Thaddeus saw the hulking form of Officer Powers. He’d obviously taken the formula of the titular Dr. Jekyll. Thaddeus knew that much, even if he hadn’t ever read the book.
Whatever strengths the formula afforded him, Thaddeus didn’t want to find out.
He lifted Sara up and ran back towards the doorway that was hiding the portal. He didn’t look back to see if anyone was watching them; he only threw open the door and pulled Sara through the shimmering veil.
A moment later they were inside the library. Dorian stood behind one of the tables, examining the books. He looked up as soon as they tumbled through, pulling the spectacles off his face.
“Where have you been?” he said, sounding annoyed. “We’ve been waiting for you.” His eyes widened as he saw Sara. “And who is this?”
“I’m Sara,” the girl said. Her adventure of climbing up the chute seemed to have fortified her, and she looked braver and more resolute than she had previously. “And who are you?”
Dorian looked down at the girl, his eyes softening. “My name is Dorian. I’m from London, like you.”
“Where else would you be from?” Sara said. Of course, she wouldn’t understand that they’d left her universe and jumped into another. “And where did this place come from? That door belongs to the Smiths, but this isn’t their house.”
Dorian glanced up at Thaddeus, and a silent agreement was made. Dorian turned back to the girl. “I just moved in a few days ago. Do you like my house?”
“There are a lot of books here,” the girl said, her eyes widening. “More books than I’ve ever seen. You must be rich. You talk like it, too.” She looked down at the floor, scuffing the hard wood with the toe of her shoes. She must have slipped them back on her feet while she waited for him in the alley.
Dorian smiled kindly. “I have to talk to Thaddeus, here,” he said. “How would you like to read some of these books?”
“I can’t read,” she said, with no hint of shame or sadness.
“Right,” Dorian said. “Of course not. Well, why don’t we find something for you to do?”
He led her away and sat her down at another table with a coloring sheet and a cup of crayons that he’d pulled from behind the Pagewalker’s desk.
It took a few minutes to explain the purpose of the crayons to the girl, but she oohed and aahed at the bright marks they left on the paper.
Dorian walked back over towards Thaddeus. His eyes held none of the warmth they’d had when he was talking to Sara.
“Explain yourself,” Dorian said, “Starting with why you brought a book character back into our world.”
“Not your world,” Thaddeus said. Dorian needed to be put in his place. “You’re a character just as much as she is.”
“Whatever.” Dorian rolled his eyes. “Explain yourself.”
“When I crossed over I was alone,” Thaddeus started. “I didn’t know where the others went.”
Dorian winced. “We unfortunately opened the book to a page with a framed narrative,” he said. “That means—”
“I know what a framed narrative is.”
“Right. Well, there’s no way to control which scene you’ll enter—the framing story or the framed story. It seems you entered one and April and Randall entered another.”
“They must not be very concerned about my absence,” Thaddeus said, gesturing around to the empty library.
Can you really blame them, though? A dark voice in the back of his head said. You’re broken. Not only are you of no help, you’re a liability.
“Th
ey went looking for you,” Dorian said, irritation in his voice. “They tried to follow you into the framed story, but the gate would only take them into the other scene. We decided that they would continue to erase the ink rot from the other scene, trusting that you’d return once you realized that you were alone. And you did. What was unexpected,” Dorian said with an edge in his voice, “was you bringing a character back with you.”
“She was… in danger,” Thaddeus tried to explain. “I saved her.”
Dorian raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t believe that characters were human? That we’re just empty facades mimicking sentience?”
Thaddeus turned away, his cheeks reddening. “I may have been wrong about some things. She’s a child.”
“Fine,” Dorian said. He crossed his arms. “So you saved her. Why did you bring her back over here? Surely the danger has passed.”
“That’s the thing,” Thaddeus said. “They keep coming after us. Her.”
“Who’s they?” Dorian asked, his expression suspicious.
“The people in the book—all of them. It’s like they’re zombies.”
The haughty look was replaced by one of worry. “Oh, no.”
“What is it?” Thaddeus’ heart began to beat.
Dorian paused before speaking again. “I need to know where you saved the girl, and from what.”
Thaddeus explained about the beastly man running down the street.
“None of her family moved to help her. And it was strange, almost like she couldn’t keep her footing. I pulled her to safety.”
When Thaddeus looked up Dorian’s face had become pinched. He gripped the bridge of his nose. “You saw a beastly man running down the street and you didn’t think he was important to the story? You just encountered Mr. Hyde! That’s his first appearance in the book!”
Thaddeus shook his head. “That wasn’t possible,” he said. “This man wasn’t deformed at all… I mean, he seemed off, but he didn’t really look deformed, you know? It couldn’t have been Mr. Hyde.”
Dorian stood, gripping the bridge of his nose even tighter. “I should have never let you go in there. You’re not… informed enough.”
“What do you mean?”
