Forces from Beyond

by Simon R. Green

  HOUNDED OUT OF THE CLUB

  Just because you’ve won a battle, it doesn’t mean you’ve won a war.

  Back out in the shadowy side street, JC and Happy and Melody looked sadly at the wreckage of what had been their car. Fortunately, there was no-one else about to see it. Despite all the assorted and very noisy mayhem, no-one had come out to see what was going on. The street remained entirely empty. Windows were dark, doors were closed; and no-one showed any interest in walking the dog.

  “There is a reason why I chose this area,” said JC. “The last thing you need when you’re on the run and on the dodge are is nosy neighbours.”

  Kim appeared out of nowhere to stand beside him. No-one so much as flinched. Kim looked at what used to be their car and sighed.

  “I liked that car.”

  “No you didn’t,” said JC.

  “I liked it a lot more when it was in one piece. You couldn’t put that back together with a whole tube of superglue.”

  JC nodded glumly. The two parts of what had been a perfectly serviceable car were now lying so far apart, he had to actually turn his head to look from one to the other. He couldn’t have done a better job of destruction with a chain-saw and a lifetime’s worth of pent-up frustration.

  “Good job getting that approved on your expenses,” said Happy.

  “How are we supposed to get to the Wulfshead Club without transport?” said Melody. “And nobody even mention walking. I do not do the walking thing. It’s bad for my feet, never mind my dignity.”

  “There’s always the Underground,” Happy said tentatively. The others just looked at him. They all had bad memories of the London Tube System. Involving murder, trains full of dead people, and Forces from Beyond.

  “Too public anyway,” said JC. “The Flesh Undying must know the Faust has been taken out of the game. Other agents will be on their way.”

  “You can bet the Institute will have put new people on our trail by now,” said Melody. “And let’s not forget certain private individuals who’d be only too happy to sell information on us to all the various interested parties. No-one loves you when you’re down and out, and the big guns don’t have your back any more.”

  “When there’s blood in the water, the sharks will start circling,” Happy said wisely.

  “I just said that!” said Melody.

  “But not as well,” said Happy.

  Melody smiled briefly. “You always could out-gloom me.”

  “I’ve had more practice,” said Happy.

  “I know a way to get us to the Wulfshead Club,” said Kim. “A very private way, that almost no-one else could follow. But . . . you’re really not going to like it.”

  “There hasn’t been much about today I have liked,” said JC. “Go on, hit me with it. What did you have in mind?”

  “I can get us to the Wulfshead with absolutely no chance of our being observed or interrupted,” said Kim. “But . . .”

  “Oh hell,” said Happy. “Nothing good ever follows that kind of but.”

  “However,” said Kim, “it would mean taking the low road. The path the dead walk.”

  JC and Happy and Melody looked at each other. They wanted to choose their next words very carefully.

  “I have heard of the low road,” JC said finally. “I thought you had to be dead to be able to use it.”

  “Can I just point out,” said Happy, “that there is a definite limit to how far I’m prepared to go to help the Boss.”

  “I don’t know what you’re fussing about,” said Melody. “You’re half-dead already.”

  “That half makes all the difference,” said Happy.

  “I can open a gateway to the low road,” said Kim. “And take you with me as my guests. You’d be perfectly safe, as long as you stuck close to me, but it is a hard way to travel. There are . . . spiritual dangers. You’d see things, experience things . . .”

  “We’ve all seen a lot,” said JC. “As Ghost Finders.”

  “Not like this,” said Kim.

  There was another long pause as the three living members of the team thought about it. Something in Kim’s voice, and something in her eyes, made it clear these dangers were very real. They could all feel hackles rising on the backs of their necks. In the end, JC shrugged quickly.

  “We’re pressed for time,” he said. “And we don’t seem to have any other options. A short cut sounds good to me. I’m game. Happy? Mel?”

  “A chance to see things no living human has ever seen?” said Happy. “Are you kidding? I live for shit like this! The bragging rights alone . . .”

  “There are good reasons why the living and the dead are supposed to stay separate,” said Melody. “There are things the living aren’t meant to see. That’s why there are Ghost Finders—to protect the living from things they’re not ready to deal with. But . . .”

  “Far too many buts in this conversation,” muttered Happy.

  “Hush, sweetie,” said Melody. She looked steadily at Kim. “Any chance the Faust could follow us? Or any of the Flesh Undying’s other agents?”

  “I don’t see how,” said Kim. “They’re still flesh. Only the dead can see the way to the low road.”

  “Then let’s do it,” said Melody. “Before I get a rush of common sense to the head and run screaming for the horizon. Do you need any help or special circumstances?”

  “No,” said Kim. “The low road is always only a step away.” She glanced at Happy. “You should know that.”

  “Some days it seems closer than others,” said Happy.

  Melody looked closely at Happy. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

  “Trust me,” said Happy. “There’s nothing that could happen to make me feel any worse that didn’t involve major-organ removals.” His gaze softened, just a little. “It’s sweet that you’re worried, Mel. But I’m not. I’m past that.”

  JC cleared his throat loudly to draw their attention back to him. Some conversations you just know aren’t going to go anywhere good.

  “So,” he said to Kim, “is this going to be like when you opened that Exit door, at the Brighton convention?”

  “Sort of,” said Kim, in a voice that strongly implied Not really. “We won’t actually be entering the after-life. Just approaching it.” She looked up and down the empty street, as she searched for a direction none of the living could follow or understand. She nodded slowly. “This way. And for your soul’s sake, stick close to me, and don’t stray off the path.”

  She headed off down the street at a steady pace. JC moved quickly forward to walk beside her, and Happy and Melody followed on behind. The light ahead slowly changed as the dirty amber glow of street-lamps and the lowering gloom of evening gave way to golden sunshine. Warm and bright and comforting, full of all the remembered joys of childhood summers. Those glorious holidays when school was just a distant memory and it seemed like summer would just go on forever. Almost without realising it, JC and Kim, Happy and Melody left the street behind to walk through a pleasant open wood. Wild and free and wonderfully inviting. A beaten-earth path led them through a narrow corridor of tall trees, with high-reaching branches weighed down by heavy greenery. Birds sang everywhere, sweet and joyous, and the air was rich with the scents of grass and flowers and growing things. It could have been any wood, or every wood. And the path, the corridor, seemed . . . immediately familiar. As though they’d walked it before. Perhaps before they were born.

  Other people were walking the low road with them, strolling unhurriedly between the tall trees. The young and the old and everyone in between. They looked straight ahead, faces full of hope and yearning. They all seemed happy to be there. None of them paid any attention to Kim and JC, Happy and Melody.

  “Where is this?” said Melody. Because even in such a marvellous place, her scientist’s mind still wanted answers.

  �
�This is the wood between the worlds,” said Kim.

  “It feels like . . . we belong here,” said Happy.

  “Everyone does,” said Kim.

  “All these other people,” said JC. “They’re dead, aren’t they? Why are they all so happy?”

  “Why shouldn’t they be?” said Kim. “The worst thing that could possibly happen to them is over. They’re leaving all the cares of the world behind. Going home at last. Can’t you feel it?”

  “Yes,” said Happy. He stared straight ahead, as though he could almost but not quite work out what lay beyond the wood. “It feels like . . . children being called in from playing by their parents because supper’s ready. The promise of love and comfort, and an end to all troubles. A feeling like . . . the long day’s work is over. Time to lay down your burdens and rest at last. Oh dear God, it feels good.”

  “But our work isn’t finished,” said Melody, warningly. “Our lives aren’t finished.”

  Happy didn’t look at her.

  They moved steadily through the corridor of trees, through a light so bright and clear it warmed their hearts, towards a destination they knew even if they couldn’t put a name to it. Their pace quickened in spite of themselves, drawn on by the promise of what lay ahead. Until Kim suddenly stepped out in front of them, blocking their way and bringing them to a halt. JC looked at her almost angrily until he saw the concern in Kim’s face.

  “You can’t go any further,” she said. “Beyond a certain point, there’s no way back. You have to come with me now.”

  JC nodded, slowly and reluctantly, and after a moment, Happy and Melody did, too. Kim led them off the path and through the trees. It took a real effort of will to go with her. They were leaving behind something precious; and even if they didn’t know what it was, they missed it. The light began to change again, the golden glow of summer giving way to the drab lights and sounds of the city. Melody stopped abruptly.

  “We’re going back to the world of the living,” she said. “And God help me, I don’t think I want to go.”

  “You have to,” said Kim. “You don’t belong here, not yet.”

  “I know!” said Melody. “But . . .”

  “You could end up trapped here,” said Kim. “Unable to move on, or go back. That’s the way most ghosts are made.”

  In the end, Happy took Melody firmly by the arm and urged her forward. “My turn, Mel, to be strong for you.”

  Kim led them out of the wood between the worlds and back into London. They emerged into a dirty back alley-way, the light of summer just a memory now, replaced by the dull amber glow of street-lamps at the end of the alley and the distant sounds of city traffic.

  Happy let go of Melody’s arm. “Welcome back to the world.”

  “I think the correct reaction is, you’re welcome to it,” said Melody.

  “It’s not much, but it’s home,” said Happy.

  They shared a brief smile, and that was that. A lot of their relationship went unspoken because it was the only way they could cope.

  “I told you it would be a hard road,” said Kim. “Life and death both take their toll.”

  “What we just saw . . .” said JC. “Was it real?”

  “Define real,” said Kim.

  “Have we at least arrived at the right place?” said Happy.

  “Yes,” said JC. “The entrance to the Wulfshead Club is at the end of this . . . really quite appallingly smelly alley-way.”

  “How do you know?” said Melody.

  “I had to meet someone here once, on the Boss’s orders,” said JC. “Picking up a package. Don’t know what was inside the box, but it really wanted out . . . And no, I wasn’t allowed inside the Club.”

  “About time we got an invite,” sniffed Melody. “It should be automatic—save the world and you’re entitled to free membership.”

  “You guys go on,” said Kim. “I’m not going anywhere near the Wulfshead.”

  They all stared at her, and she looked back unflinchingly.

  “Why not?” said JC.

  “What do you know about the Club that we don’t?” said Happy.

  “It disturbs me,” said Kim. “Bad things happen there.”

  “What have you got to worry about?” said Melody. “You’re already dead!”

  “You should know that doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” said Kim. “Especially where the Wulfshead Club is concerned. There really are fates worse than death.”

  “Then you stay out here,” JC said kindly. “Watch our backs and give us advance warning if anyone unfriendly turns up looking for us.”

  “Yes,” said Kim. “I can do that.”

  She stood there, on her own, while the others made their way carefully down the dark alley-way. It was filthy dirty, with pools of standing water and piled-up garbage, some of which seemed to be moving. Layer upon layer of overlapping graffiti covered the sweating brickwork on the two facing walls. The most recent was Dagon Has Risen! Beware the Yellow Sign, and, most worryingly, They’re Inside Your Head. The sound of passing city traffic came faintly but insistently from both ends of the alley. To JC, it sounded strangely distant, as though it was much further away than it should have been. As though just by walking down this alley, he and the others had removed themselves from the everyday world. JC couldn’t help feeling that had been happening far too often, just recently.

  They came at last to the entrance he remembered, a huge, blocky door set flush into the brickwork, on the left-hand side. Moisture ran down the wall as though it were sweating in the heat, but none of it touched the door—a great slab of solid silver, with warning words etched deep into the metal. Messages made with knives and chisels, claws and other things. In all kinds of archaic languages. JC leaned in close for a better look.

  “Can you read any of that?” said Melody.

  “I’m pretty sure some this is Enochian,” said JC. “An artificial language created in Elizabethan times, so men could talk directly with angels. And I think that . . . is demonic script.”

  “Okay,” said Happy. “I am out of here. Have fun, don’t talk to any strange things, tell me all about it when you get back.”

  “There could be free drinks . . .” said JC.

  “Damn you, JC,” said Happy. “You always know the right things to say.”

  But still they stood where they were, looking at the door, none of them in any hurry to enter the infamous Wulfshead Club. They all knew its reputation; everyone in their line of work did. But none of them had ever been inside. If asked why they hadn’t followed their usual procedure with forbidden venues and just forced their way in on general principles . . . they would probably have said they considered the Wulfshead Club to be just a bit above their pay grade. A club reserved for the celebrities of the hidden world. For Droods and Soulhunters and Paladins of the Golden Dawn. Heroes and monster-hunters and some of the more reputable names from the Nightside. Not the kind of people you’d want to force yourself upon . . . The Ghost Finders thought of themselves more as the working stiffs of the supernatural scene.

  “I’ve heard stories about this place,” Happy said finally. “About the sort of people who come here and the kind of things that happen. None of them good stories . . . Some people in our line of work have developed really strange ideas about what constitutes entertainment.”

  “No wonder the Boss chose the Wulfshead for her meet,” said Melody. “Even agents of the Flesh Undying would have a hard time getting in here, uninvited.”

  “The Boss is probably a lifetime member,” said Happy, scowling darkly. “Her kind of place. I don’t think I want to meet the kind of people the Boss would mix with, socially.”

  “Look on the bright side,” said JC. “If any of the people on our trail should turn up here, these are just the kind of people you’d want on your side to see the bastards off.”

 
“Because members of the Wulfshead Club would be more frightening than our enemies?” said Happy. “Really not doing a good job of selling this to me, JC.”

  “Do you want me to tell the Boss you didn’t want to meet with her?” said JC.

  “Well, no, not as such,” said Happy. He glowered at the solid steel door. “I don’t like this door. Have either of you noticed there isn’t any handle? Or a bell, or a knocker, or . . . anything? And I’m pretty sure . . . there’s something living inside the door.”

  JC and Melody looked at each other sharply. They both wanted to step back but didn’t like to in front of the others.

  “What kind of something living?” said Melody.

  “The bad kind!” said Happy. “The seriously dangerous kind! And it knows we’re here.”

  “Is that good or bad?” said Melody.

  “What do you think?” said Happy.

  “Man up!” JC said sharply. “Big brave Ghost Finders don’t take any crap from night-club doors. Or their built-in bouncers. It stands to reason a club like this would have serious security at their main entrance . . . but that’s no reason for us to lose our nerve! We’re invited! We’re guests! So, everyone play nice and be on their best behaviour, right up to the point where anyone gives us a hard time; and then I expect to see sudden and gratuitous violence from both of you. We are a Carnacki Institute A team, and we don’t take any shit from the Hereafter! Never mind a bunch of stuck-up supernatural celebrities!”

  “Nice pep talk,” said Melody. “Inspirational.”

  “Yeah, I feel really inspired,” growled Happy.

  JC sighed. “Look . . . just smile nicely and stand tall, and whenever possible let me do all the talking; and everything will be fine.”

  “Can I have that in writing?” said Happy.

  “How are we supposed to get in?” said Melody, looking the door up and down with the experienced eyes of a part-time burglar. “Did the Boss give you a password?”

  “Swordfish!” Happy said loudly, just on the off chance.

  “No key, no password, no secret signs,” said JC. “Apparently, we’re just supposed to announce ourselves.”