by Marty Chan
When they finally reached the top, the gate guard spotted them. At first, he raised an eyebrow, searching for his partner. He scratched his bushy umber beard. Once he noticed that the two teens were wielding picks, however, the situation finally clicked in his brain, and he drew a long knife with serrated edges.
“Charlie, flank him,” Ehrich said.
His friend hunched low, waving the pick back and forth to test the weight. Ehrich moved to the right, putting distance between himself and Charlie. The gate guard would have to choose one of them. He opted for Ehrich.
He charged with the knife high over his head. Ehrich raised his pick with both hands to block the downward blow, but he left his midsection open. The burly man kicked him square in the gut and sent him flying backward. Though the man was big, he moved with deceptive speed.
Charlie rushed at the guard from behind, swinging his pick at the back of the man’s head. He ducked as the dirt-encrusted pick whistled over him. Charlie had expected to connect and the miss threw him off balance. He staggered two steps to the left, exposing his side.
The gate guard slashed and sliced through Charlie’s duster. A seasoned hunter, the boy let his momentum carry him forward to roll away from the blade. The bearded man lunged at him, raising his blade for a killing blow. Charlie spun around and drove the pick into his attacker’s thigh. Instead of striking flesh and bone, Charlie smacked the impenetrable iron hide of a prosthetic leg. The pick handle broke in half.
The gate guard quickly took advantage of Charlie’s surprise and drove the serrated blade at Charlie’s abdomen, but the swift hunter angled his body and the blade only nicked him. He slammed his forearm into the guard’s wrist, knocking the knife out of the man’s hand.
“Not so tough now, are we?” Charlie taunted, advancing.
The guard backed up and set his feet. Charlie lunged, and the man kicked him in the stomach. Then the guard grabbed Charlie by the back of the hair and drove the boy’s head into his metal knee. The crunch of bone against metal was sickening. Charlie’s limp form crumpled to the ground. The guard raised his metal leg to crush Charlie’s head.
“No!” Ehrich hooked the handle of his pick around the guard’s neck and hauled him away from his injured friend. The guard drove his legs back, throwing himself and Ehrich toward the edge of the quarry pit. Ehrich dropped the pick as he rolled toward the edge and then over. For a second, he was floating in mid air, trying to distinguish ground from sky. He shot his arm out and grabbed the edge. His body slammed into the rocky wall and he was momentarily stunned.
Towering above him, the bearded man with the iron leg turned the pick in his ham hock hands and eyed the helpless Weisz. He raised the pick over his head and brought it down on the boy. Ehrich threw his other hand up to grasp the ledge and angled himself to the side. The pick drove into the rock. Ehrich looked down. The drop was too far. He’d most likely break his neck if he let go. He could feel his fingers slipping. He grunted as he tried to reposition his hands.
The big man freed the pick and took aim for another deadly blow. He hoisted the makeshift weapon high in the air. Ehrich knew this was the end. He shut his eyes.
Crack!
A rush of wind whipped past Ehrich’s head. He opened his eyes and looked down. The bearded man’s twisted form lay sprawled out on the ground, two tiers down. The man’s eyes stared vacantly up at the sky.
Above, a wobbly Charlie stood on the ledge clutching a plank of wood.
“Not bad,” Ehrich said. “Want to give me a hand?”
His friend dropped the plank and bent down to help Ehrich up. Once his friend was safe, Charlie sat and put his head in his hands.
“Are you all right?” Ehrich asked.
“Ma hea is thwobbing,” Charlie said, slurring his words.
A nasty lump formed on his friend’s forehead where the guard had kneed him, but there seemed to be no other injuries.
“Can you stand, Charlie?”
The teen tried, but his legs shook and Ehrich had to steady him. Charlie then doubled over and vomited.
“We have to get you to the surgeon,” Ehrich said.
He picked up the guard’s serrated blade, threw his friend’s arm over his neck and headed to the street.
The teens put some distance between the tunnel project and themselves. Ehrich stopped a few blocks away to get a better grip on his friend. Charlie was losing consciousness.
“Erie, why didna ya… ell me…? Er brother?”
“Save your energy, Charlie.”
“Demon…” he mumbled as his head rolled to one side.
Ehrich yanked on his friend’s arm, keeping him awake. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a figure darting quickly from cover. At first, he thought the tunnel workers had broken out of the airlock and caught up with them, but then he recognized Wilhelm.
“I see him! He’s got Charlie.” Wilhelm cried out, pointing.
Though he was not fond of Wilhelm, Ehrich was still glad to see him—until his former squad mate raised his volt pistol.
“You’re under arrest,” Wilhelm said.
Enter Purgatory
“Wilhelm, what are you doing? It’s me,” Ehrich said.
“Of course I know it’s you, Houdini,” the German teen sneered. “Commander Farrier told us how you set the demon free. You’re a traitor to Demon Watch.”
Ehrich glanced at Charlie, who was fading into unconsciousness. What Charlie needed was medical attention. What chance would he have of surviving if he was branded an accomplice to a fugitive? His career as a hunter would effectively be over, even if he survived. Ehrich couldn’t be responsible for that.
“Houdini, you and your pal have nowhere to run,” Wilhelm said, “so you might as well give up now.”
He lifted the serrated blade to his friend’s throat and yelled, “One step further and Charlie gets it!”
His friend weakly struggled against his grip. “Wha—?”
“This is my hostage, Wilhelm. Put your gun down and I’ll let him go.”
Wilhelm hesitated.
Then Margaret and Gino arrived on the scene. “Let Charlie go!” shouted Margaret.
The squad was only tracking him. Charlie wasn’t a target. If Ehrich was going to keep his friend safe, he’d have make sure everyone thought Charlie was still on their side.
He shouted, “I will gut him right before your eyes. You want that on your conscience, Wilhelm? Gino? Your choice, Margaret. What will it be?”
The trio whispered to each other.
Charlie gasped, “Ehrich?”
“Shut up,” he barked. “You want to live?”
“Leggo.”
“Not until they drop their guns. Last chance, Wilhelm!”
“We have orders to bring you in,” Wilhelm said. “Dead or alive.”
Gino corrected him. “Farrier didn’t say that. He said just bring him in.”
“Shut it,” Wilhelm snapped.
Ehrich pressed the blade against Charlie’s neck. Margaret lowered her volt pistol. Gino did the same. Wilhelm shook his head until Margaret punched him in the arm. “Put it down. Now!”
He obeyed.
“Now step back,” Ehrich ordered.
They retreated.
“They’ll get you the help you need,” Ehrich whispered. Then he pushed his friend to the ground and ran away.
“The fugitive is moving down Morton Street,” Wilhelm yelled.
Ehrich glanced back. His former squad mates were gathered around the fallen Charlie, but just a block away four new hunters were coming toward the group. He sped across the busy lanes, dodging horse-drawn carriages and ducking past curious gawkers. A few blocks away, he found himself under the Ninth Avenue line.
The four hunters had fresh legs and were gaining ground. Ehrich had no choice but to fight. He slowed to catch his breath. He leaned against the iron support of the elevated railroad, pressing his back against the pillar, feeling the rivet heads press into his shoulder. The hunters surr
ounded him. Their teslatron rifles were raised and ready to shoot. He recognized the freckled face of Lilith, the leader of Farrier’s top squad.
“You’re under arrest for treason,” she said. “Hands up.”
Ehrich rolled on the balls of his feet, his gaze shifting from side to side to pick out the most likely target.
“He’s uncooperative,” Lilith said. “Shoot him.”
Ehrich pushed off from the girder and dove at the legs of the scrawny black-haired teen to his right. A bolt of energy seared the air just over his head. A near miss. He grappled with the teen, knowing that the others wouldn’t shoot with a comrade in close proximity. He eyed Lilith as she swung her rifle around, and he angled his opponent between the two of them.
Then a stocky hunter grabbed Ehrich’s hair and swung him around, slamming the side of his face into the pillar. Ehrich felt a hard punch to his kidney, sending waves of pain up his back. The hunter slammed Ehrich’s head into the pillar again, cutting his lip. He pulled his head back for a third smash but stopped and released his grip on Ehrich’s hair.
Ehrich heard a low, menacing growl as he staggered against the metal pillar. The German shepherd from Mr. Serenity’s Museum of Curiosities stood a few feet away from the group, baring its teeth. Flanking it, a pack of huge dogs padded toward the hunters. Lilith backed up, raising her rifle.
“Back,” she said.
The other hunters raised their rifles and took aim. The dogs still advanced. Lilith fired at a pit bull, to no effect. The dogs closed the gap. More shots filled the air, but not a single dog fell. Lilith turned and ran. Her squad mates scattered as the dogs split from their pack and chased after them. Barking faded in the distance.
Alone, Ehrich slid to the ground, trying to figure out which part of him hurt the most. He tested his bloody lip and reached behind to massage his bruised back. Nothing was broken, but he would be sore for days. At the sound of a short bark, he looked up and met the unflinching gaze of Mr. Serenity’s German shepherd.
The dog padded up to where Ehrich was sitting until they were nose to nose. For a second, he half-expected the mutt to chew off his face. Then he noticed its leather collar; more specifically, the pearl cameo attached to the collar. As Ehrich reached up to touch the cameo, the dog trotted away, but then turned to look back expectantly.
Ehrich didn’t know when Lilith and her squad might return, so he decided to follow. The shepherd led him away from the elevated trains, past shop owners and refined shoppers along the wide avenue. They travelled for nearly an hour until they had made it to the east side of Manhattan, beyond the Bowery but before the wharfs. The dog stopped near a gangly merchant, hawking cooked yams. Easily, this man could have been one of the attractions in the Museum of Curiosities as the tallest man in New York. He turned to Ehrich then gazed down at the dog.
“Are you absolutely certain?”
The dog barked.
The tall man rolled his cart out of the way to reveal cellar doors. He stooped over and pulled up the metal cellar doors. They clanked against the stone sidewalk. He beckoned Ehrich toward the hole. The boy glanced into the hole and saw nothing.
A pair of hands shoved him hard from behind and he toppled into the inky darkness. The fall abruptly ended when Ehrich landed on a smooth glass floor. He found himself in a tiny round compartment barely large enough for himself and the dog that landed beside him. Behind him was a bench, and before him was an instrument panel of gauges and dials. The dog slammed its paw on a button on the panel and the vehicle lurched forward. The transport slid toward a large glass pneumatic tube. Ehrich shot back into the bench from the sudden acceleration.
They flew through the tube at a blistering pace, zigzagging through the rock, always moving downwards. Ehrich clutched his mouth, trying to keep from throwing up. The dog cocked its head to one side and watched Ehrich, seemingly oblivious to the jolting descent. After an eternity, the vehicle slowed and came out at the top end of an enormous cavern. The vehicle’s top lights snapped on, revealing an alien landscape of stalagmites and stalactites. How far beneath Manhattan they were, Ehrich had no clue. The clear pneumatic tube joined a network of other clear tubes, all leading toward a massive globe hovering between the stalactites and stalagmites, like a ball held in the teeth of a giant monster.
Glowing rings rotated around the globe, illuminating the city within. Glass towers rose from the surface and nearly touched the glowing rings. Golden minarets dotted the cityscape, which teemed with people moving through pneumatic tubes between the buildings. His vehicle whizzed toward the centre of the city.
“What is this place?” he asked himself.
“It’s Purgatory,” a girl’s voice answered.
He turned around, but only the dog sat beside him. He examined the panel of instruments for a speaker.
“Who said that? Where are you?”
“Right here,” said the dog.
“You can talk? Impossible. Okay, now I’m talking to a dog. I think I’m losing my mind. No, now I’m talking to myself. I know I’m losing my mind.”
The cameo on the dog’s choker flashed a brilliant emerald green and suddenly, in place of the dog, Amina appeared. He stared at her vibrant, ebony face, slack-jawed with wonder.
“How did you do that?” Ehrich asked.
She smiled enigmatically and said nothing.
“What do you want with me? Where are we going?”
“In good time, but first…” She knifed her hand into his shirt and yanked the medallion from around his neck.
“Hey, how did you know?”
“I was in the Museum when you showed up that first time.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Ruff.”
“Oh.”
She examined the chimera image, running her finger over the smooth metal. “Where did you find this?”
“You know what the image means?” Ehrich asked.
“I’m asking the questions. Where did you find this?”
Ehrich refused to answer. “I’m not telling you anything until I get some answers of my own. What does the chimera mean?”
The vehicle came to a stop inside one of the minarets. Amina pushed open the hatch and stepped out. She motioned Ehrich to follow.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Follow me if you want those answers.”
The corridor was see-through, allowing Ehrich to observe the road below. Unlike the brownstone that dominated New York, glass seemed to be the primary material used in construction down here. But it was nothing like the glass he had seen. The material here was smoother and denser, and some was even opaque. Above, the rotating rings orbited the floating complex and illuminated the city.
Amina strode across the glass floor, creating the illusion that she was walking on air. Ehrich stepped behind her gingerly. He navigated the glass corridor and finally found himself on more solid-looking surroundings. Ahead of him, strange designs in the smooth obsidian floor lit up with Amina’s every step, lighting a path to a circular doorway at the far end of the hallway. Ehrich followed.
She placed the palm of her hand on the door’s centre and a red glow spread across the silver door, which spiralled open like an iris.
They stepped into a round room covered with dusty books and uncomfortable-looking church pews. In the middle of the room, Mr. Serenity was examining the tome Ehrich had first seen Amina carry into Demon Gate.
“Where am I?” he demanded.
Amina crossed over to where Mr. Serenity was standing and handed him the medallion she’d taken from around Ehrich’s neck. “I’m going to need your help, Mr. Serenity. He won’t talk.”
“Maybe you didn’t ask nicely.”
“No, he’s stubborn.”
“I suspect he’s probably bewildered.”
“Hello? Someone please tell me what’s going on here!”
Mr. Serenity smiled. “You look like a man who could use something to drink. Sorry to say all I have is tea. Will that do?
”
Ehrich shook his head.
“Tea will settle your nerves. Let me pour you a cup. What’s your name?”
“Ehrich. Ehrich Weisz.”
Mr. Serenity poured a cup of tea for him. He then poured one for Amina.
“Now, I’m sure all of this may be a bit overwhelming, but let me put your mind at ease. We don’t mean you any ill will. We simply want to know how you came about this device.”
“Tell me what the medallion means first.”
“See, Mr. Serenity?” Amina said. “I told you. If we delay any longer, we’re going to—”
“In good time. Drink up, son. Don’t be rude.”
Ehrich picked up the cup. The tea smelled of mint and rosemary. He only meant to take one sip, but he drank half in two swallows.
“Mr. Serenity, what do you think about using the hypermnesium?”
He waved her off. “Let’s try talking first, shall we?” He turned to Ehrich. “I’ll put this as simply as I can, son. You have something which comes from our world. Amina is so curious to learn how you got it. Her urgency has made her forget her manners. Can you tell us where you got it, so that we, in turn, might be able to help you?” He winked at Amina. “See, that’s not that hard, is it?”
“He hasn’t answered you yet,” she shot back.
Ehrich didn’t know if he could trust these two, but this was the closest he had ever come to getting answers about the medallion. “It belonged—belongs—to my brother.”
Mr. Serenity cracked a wide grin at Amina. She clammed up.
“I don’t know how he got it. That’s what I’ve been trying to find out. In the tunnel, he didn’t act like himself. Maybe the medallion had some kind of effect on him.”
“Ah. You wonder if your brother was really your brother,” Mr. Serenity deduced.
“Yes. You have devices that can change her into a dog.”
Amina smiled. “Woof.”
Mr. Serenity chuckled. “Son, what Amina does is an illusion. She has a device that projects what she wants you to see. She prefers the German shepherd. Why is that, Amina?”
