The Last Line Series One

by David Elias Jenkins

  “Do they know that sir? They seem the sort to not care about orders.”

  Cornelius shrugged. “Just in case, I’ve taken steps.”

  Bellingham felt his heart beat faster. He wished it was all over already. He was not sure what his place would be in this new order but he desperately hoped he would be far from Cornelius Fortune and his apocalyptic goddess with her plague-stench.

  “What steps?”

  Cornelius’ bloodshot eyes opened wide and manic. He spoke in an excited whisper, as if enemies were listening in every nook and cranny.

  Cornelius cocked his head.

  “They can’t do her any harm without the knife. And that should not be a problem to procure from this salesman the Moroccan told us of. It gives me an opportunity to set loose a project I’ve been working on for a while.”

  Something stepped through the yellow mist behind Cornelius. Its vast shoulders almost brushed the standing stones on each side. In the dim light in looked like an ancient statue carved from solid resin. The face was obscured in shadow but a deep Unseelie green shone from its eyes.

  Cornelius stroked its bulging forearm.

  “The thaumaturgy needed to create a true Golem is very subtle and complex, Mr Bellingham. It is with no small professional pride that I present this to the world. It is a dead thing given a new life of singular purpose.”

  Bramley smiled at the hulking being.

  “It’s beautiful, Cornelius.”

  Cornelius visibly blushed.

  “Whatever purpose it is given it will have no other thought. It knows no distraction or fatigue. Although forgive me, it is a work in progress. It still lacks one very important component.”

  Bellingham stared in awe at the Golem.

  “What…what is that component?”

  “A human nervous system.”

  “Where will you find one?”

  Bellingham already knew the answer and felt his guts turn to water.

  “Well I was rather hoping, since you are here Mr Bellingham that you would offer yours.”

  Bellingham stammered out a nervous laugh. He looked from the necromancer to Lord Bramley, waiting for the punchline he knew would not arrive.

  “I…rather like my nervous system where it is.”

  Cornelius nodded in understanding.

  “I know. But my Golem needs an engine. If it’s any consolation you won’t be conscious for long during its removal.”

  Bellingham began to step slowly backwards towards the entrance. He knew there was no way out, he had no idea how to get to the surface.

  “Lord Bramley, this is absurd. I have performed my duties to the highest standard. I was told I was one of the chosen few, that I would have a place in the new order.”

  Lord Bramley took a step back away from Bellingham.

  “Oh you certainly have a place, Bellingham. Well, the branching network of nerves inside your body does, anyway.”

  Bellingham laughed and his voice cracked with nerves.

  “And the rest of me? Is there some thaumaturgy to be performed that I can live without it? What of the rest of me?”

  Cornelius shrugged apologetically.

  “I rather thought the rest of you would be food for my pet dog.”

  The skulking pet revenant that had been padding about in the shadows leapt up behind Bellingham and wrapped its clammy arms around his shoulders and neck, pinning him. Bellingham breathed in the stench of its breath.

  “Lord Bramley? Lord Bramley!”

  Cornelius had produced a Gladstone bag and was busily rummaging within.

  “Don’t worry, I have something here that will help.”

  He produced a utensil that defied explanation, because part of it existed in this world and part of it in the Unseelie realm. Even Lord Bramley’s brain, who had seen so much Unseelie magic over the years, could not comprehend it. The necromancer held it up with a friendly smile, adopting the bedside manner of a country GP.

  “Now, this will unspool your nerves. If we are careful we can contain them as an unbroken entity wrapped meticulously around this device. It does tend to make the nerves a little raw as it twists whilst one end is still attached to your corporeal form, but I assure you the process should take no more than a few hours.”

  “Lord Bramley this is…”

  The revenant gagged Bellingham with its damp rotten hand. The fingers slid into his mouth and made him gag. Bellingham swallowed some flaking material from its skin.

  He struggled and bucked but the filthy creature was like an anaconda.

  Lord Bramley held out a placatory hand.

  “Don’t worry Bellingham. You are about to be part of something beautiful and relentless. You have spent your life as a weak man, now all life will cower before you. And you will stand at Lilith’s side as her guardian. I envy you, I do.”

  But not really that much, thought Bramley.

  Bellingham’s screams echoed throughout the ancient temple. The prehistoric tribes had sacrificed men there, the Romans too. The sandy floor was used to blood.

  The Unseelie in the surrounding tunnels closed their eyes in ecstasy at the sound.

  Screams were what passed for music in the deep places.

  16

  “You’re fired. But you seem to have guessed that already.”

  Mr Burt Beckett sat in his chair and stared at the loosely bound shrine to disrespect that slouched in the doorway.

  Behind him in the main offices the firefighters were just winding up with their business. The carpets squelched under their big boots as they stomped out back to the car park. The accounts department of Veritas Monthly magazine looked like a tsunami had recently passed through.

  Laz shifted the weight of the cardboard box he was holding in the crook of one arm. It contained the contents of his desk. A vintage motorcycle helmet with goggles peeped out the top of the cardboard like a steampunk toad. Laz hunched his shoulders at an awkward angle as he fumbled in his trouser pocket for a single match. Tugging it free along with most of the lining of his pocket, he sparked the match on the doorframe. Third scrape then the whiff and hiss of sulphur.

  His boss-until-ten-seconds-ago puffed out his sad dog cheeks.

  “You’re not going to smoke in here.”

  “This rich spicy fug says otherwise Dan.”

  “Get the fuck out my office.”

  Becket pretended to shuffle some soggy papers for a few moments before slowly looking up.

  “Are you trying think of some kind of witty, parting quip?”

  Lazlo nodded slowly.

  “I was. Nothing’s coming. Can you give me another moment?”

  “How about sorry? Sorry Dan for nearly burning down and then subsequently flooding the entire building with the sprinkler system. I feel like I’ve pissed my pants Lazlo. My balls are wet. I have wet balls.”

  Lazlo blew some smoke thoughtfully.

  “I never pictured you with balls, Dan. Just a smooth GI Joe undercarriage. To go with that haircut.”

  “Oh don’t give me that beatnik counterculture hacker bullshit Lazlo. You swan around here with a thinly veiled air of contempt…”

  “I resent that Dan. I never try to veil that contempt.”

  “You swan around grudgingly fixing everyone’s computers as if it’s beneath you…”

  Lazlo jabbed a finger at Beckett.

  “They’re always beneath me. You know nothing of computers Dan.”

  “Well you know what, it isn’t beneath you. It’s what we pay you for. You’re an IT janitor and we just want you to wander round the place rattling the padlocks on the cyber-doors.”

  “Cyber doors? That’s good, Dan, you clearly don’t need an IT guy.”

  “No one needs you Lazlo. That’s why you’re down here in the basement fifty clicks below your pay grade. Yes we all know you have an IQ of about two hundred and five or some such. Not done you much good has it? You’ve been fired from your last three positions for your whack-job obsessions, conspiracy t
heories, total lack of respect for the jobs themselves, and your total inability to integrate. Oh there was something else, what was it? Oh yes you nearly burned the place down today!”

  “That wasn’t me it was a booby trap.”

  “You were trying to hack into some top secret government computer system from your office desk Lazlo! We’ve been monitoring your computer usage for weeks. We’re sick of listening to you Laszlo, telling us that we need to prepare for some big supernatural invasion.”

  “In fairness I was on my lunch hour when I was hacking into the STG.”

  “Hang on did you say booby trapped?”

  “Yeah. The site had a firewall.”

  “A firewall? Are you fucking with me? I’m not computer savvy but I know what a firewall is! It doesn’t set the room alight.”

  “Yeah but this system…this system, Dan, has an actual Firewall. I came across things in this site’s programming that no one has ever seen. Contained within the coding, there’s hexes. Actual Thaumaturgy. This lot have combined the two, spliced technology and magic like it was nothing. You know how difficult that is? I tried to get through the Firewall and it blew up in my…well. You saw the results.”

  Becket sighed and his belly distended over his trousers.

  “It wasn’t my idea to hire you. We’re a serious publication for intelligent people. We find the truth about things Lazlo, we don’t blow smoke up people’s assholes and fill their heads with nonsense. People don’t want to be told the sky’s about to fall on their heads and they sure as hell don’t want to hear about goblins.”

  “It isn’t truth you want, it’s scandal and gossip. You want truth? There’s an entire branch of our military and intelligence infrastructure dedicated to stopping a supernatural force that is intent on taking over the world. They’ve been hiding for a long long time. But not anymore. We all need to get ready. ”

  “Fruitloop. You’re done. Put your crazy frog helmet on, get on your bike and go home.”

  Laz revved his 1965 Triumph Bonneville motorcycle through the city streets, muttering to himself.

  Weaving through the motorists, he pitied the ignorant masses. They had no idea of the secret world that waited for them in the dark. Lazlo knew though. He had been making money out of it for years, waiting on his big payday. In a constant barrage against his optimism, it had never quite happened.

  Who would have thought that being a purveyor of magical artefacts wouldn’t be lucrative? What kind of complacency has set into the world when you can no longer entice and amaze them with a magic ring or book of summoning spells?

  The answer of course, was that Laz had no qualms about selling anybody counterfeits or items whose magic had already been expended. He had a strange love hate relationship with the hidden world. In fairness it was genuinely hard to find a working artefact. Either the Special Threats Group had them all in some secret government warehouse or they were just duds lying about in caves and woods, no more than souvenirs.

  This knife was different though and Laz had decided to do some creative hacking to find some answers.

  Lazlo took one hand off the handlebars, the bike veering clumsily as he tugged out his mobile phone and punched a speed dial key. He tugged his open face helmet to an absurd off-the-ear-angle.

  “Buller. It’s Moz.”

  “Hey buddy. You get fired again?”

  “Yeah. Released a hex from a webpage and set fire to my desk.”

  “Happens. Want me to come over?”

  “Fast as you can. I did it.”

  “Did what?”

  “I’m in.”

  A moment’s mouthbreathing on the other end of the line.

  “You’re fucking kidding me? The firewall?”

  “Passed it. Just for a few seconds but I got a whole load of data downloaded onto a stick before it shut me down.”

  “Oh. My. God. You think they traced you?”

  “They can’t have been aware of me for more than a few seconds. Even the Special Threats Group can’t trace me that fast.”

  “Did you read any of it?”

  “Bits and pieces. Buller I think I may have found something that’s going to make us rich. But they made me clear out my desk and to be fair all the computers in the office were filled with water.”

  “Sprinklers?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re going to end up in jail if you keep pulling stunts like that.”

  “Might end up being the safest place once the attack starts.”

  “For your little Slavic ass maybe. Prime meat like me? I’d be like a blow up doll in there.”

  “Hot air balloon more like. Yeah well I’d be the thinking man’s crumpet. You on your way?

  “Just getting my coat on. Want me to stop at the shop?”

  “Energy drinks. And stuff for nachos. Gonna be a long night I think.”

  Twenty minutes later, Laz parked his scooter in the back alley at the communal parking garages. Inside, he had turned his garage into a mini workshop. A map on the wall marked the locations of the most notorious thin spots in the United Kingdom. Various old books and charts lay scattered across his workbench. Laz mainly used them as reference books for valuations when it came to getting the best mark up on the artefacts that came his way.

  He locked the garage door and started the walk round the building towards his block of flats. As he walked past the trees that lined the road he stopped and glanced around.

  He had the oddest feeling he was being watched. He felt a chill breeze through his vintage leathers and had to pull his collar up.

  Easy Laz. It’s been a long weird day. Let’s not add paranoia to our list of mental issues.

  He breathed a sigh and shook his head at his own superstitious brain. When he looked up there was a tall broad figure standing in front of him. It wore a long trench coat and fedora but it clearly was a long way from human.

  Laz brought a cigarette up in his shaking hand and lit it.

  “Evening. Lovely night.”

  As the lighter ignited, the flames danced off a huge face that sparkled but that seemed to have no real substance. The only thing that really stood out was the eyes. They were gelatinous orbs trapped in a setting of rock.

  The being stepped forward and its coat flapped open wide. Then Laz saw that it was a creature made of some kind of translucent resin. Its torso and legs had the quality of flexible quartz. What horrified Laz was that within the milky resin he could clearly see a network of living nerves and blood vessels. The eyes had a permanent expression of horror, as if the living material set within had no real say in the movements of the whole.

  It was the strangest, most disturbing entity Laz had ever seen, and he wanted to be as far away from it as possible. He began to ramble.

  “I’m not part of this. This whole secret war you all have going on. I’m a neutral trader. I sell to both sides. I can be useful. I can get you things. What is it you want?”

  The golem reached out a hand towards Laz. Its expression was forever one of frozen madness. Laz was also frozen. His fear had somehow planted his feet to the ground. All he could do was watch in horror as the creature reached out for his face.

  Suddenly a huge shadow loomed over Laz’s shoulder. A deep resonant but distinctly female voice called out.

  “The only thing he wants is you dead. Step aside.”

  Laz looked behind him and saw another terrifying creature. This one was armoured and feral, with wild raven hair and orange eyes. It flexed huge steel tipped wings over its head and held a sword in its taloned hand. Beside it was a canine creature the size of a lion.

  “I’m…I’m not sure if I can...I don’t think I can move.”

  The huge bird woman smiled at him.

  “Can you duck?”

  Laz bent low as the golem’s resinous hand swiped over him. The Valkyrie parried it with her sword and shards of the creature showered over him like glass. Laz suddenly found his feet and bolted to the nearest tree. He crouched there pant
ing as the bizarre creatures fought it out under the streetlamps.

  The canine creature clamped its jaws onto the leg of the golem but the creature seemed to feel no pain at all. It kicked and bucked until the canine was thrown off and thumped into the tree next to Laz. It lay there whimpering and panting heavily.

  Now that it was closer, Laz could see flecks of froth at the corners of its jaws, and green ooze around its eyes.

  This creature is sick.

  Laz looked up and under the street light he could now see that the huge bird woman was also unsteady of her feet. She looked gaunt and pale and seemed short of breath.

  So is that one.

  The Valkyrie swung her sword with a ferocity Laz had never seen, but the golem cared nothing for the damage that was inflicted upon it. It slowly turned and fixed its eyes on Laz.

  It reached out faster than his eyes could follow and gripped the Valkyrie around the throat. She was already weakening fast and she slowly sank to her knees. In a strained voice she whispered to Laz.

  “Run.”

  Laz heard that loud and clear. His every instinct of self-preservation kicked in and he just wanted to sprint out of there as fast as he could. Yet even as he rose to escape he looked back at his stricken champion and found his legs were slowing.

  Whatever she is, she’s fighting to save my life. I can’t just leave her there to be killed by that lump of superglue.

  The huge wolf creature still whimpered semi-conscious at Laz’s feet. The Valkyrie had dropped her sword and was fighting to prize open the fingers on her throat but it was like fighting a statue.

  Laz called across.

  “What do I do? I’m no fighter what do I do?”

  Laz looked to her sword on the ground but knew that he could barely lift it never mind wield it.

  Wait a minute…

  Laz reached inside his bag and pulled out the artefact he had been preciously carrying about all day.

  I don’t know if it does anything, but everyone seems to want what I have pretty bad…so it must do something.

  Laz felt the cold weight of the knife in his hand. He edged closer to the golem but found that with the thing just staring at him with its unblinking eyes he could force himself to move no closer. He looked at the Valkyrie. Her face was purple and her eyes bulging. She only had a few more seconds.