Button Hill

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Button Hill Page 7

by Michael Bradford


  “Hey, Dekker?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry you died.”

  “Me too.” Dekker moved his hand so that it rested against hers. “I’m sorry for locking you in the cellar.”

  She patted his arm. “It’s okay. You can play beauty salon with me when we get home to make up for it.”

  “Deal. Will you try Captain Tom?”

  “Sure.” She clicked on the handset and pushed the button. “Captain Tom, it’s me. Are you there?”

  Static for a moment, and then a tinny voice crackled over the speaker. “I read you. It’s bloody hard to work this thing with paws. I’ve led Cobb and his soldiers on a merry goose chase, and I’m almost to the station. Things are going to happen quickly. Riley, if Dekker is unable to complete his part of the plan, you must find a way to escape the train and return to Dayside without him.”

  Riley swallowed, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I know. Will he be all right?”

  “There have been easier tests, that’s for certain. I’m not sure how deep into Nightside this train will go. If it leaves the borderland and Dekker is still on it…But don’t lose hope.”

  “If I don’t see you again, you’ve been a good dog. Take care.”

  “And you, lass, and your fine family.” A train whistle sounded in the distance. Captain Tom barked. “Be ready to move as soon as the train stops.”

  Ten

  Riley shook Dekker’s shoulder as the midnight train thundered into the station. Metal wheels screamed as they tortured the track; the engine thundered like a hoard of caged beasts. Huge and steely gray, its sleek cars knifed past the platform. The engine continued to throb as the train slowed down suddenly without losing any of its power. The wooden planks of the platform shook as if they were about to come loose. The windows of the passenger cars were dark, but once or twice Dekker caught a glimpse of pale, drawn faces through the glass.

  Dekker had been having the most wonderful dream. He was in his own room at home in the city. There was sunlight everywhere, his bed was strewn with comic books, and the smell of popcorn hung heavy in the air. He heard his sister on the clock radio, calling him. “Wake up. The train’s here.” He didn’t move or breathe. He wanted to hold on to this feeling, the feeling of being home without a care in the world. But Riley’s voice kept growing louder. “Hey! Wake up! I can’t do this alone.”

  His eyes fluttered open. “What’s all the yelling for? I was dreaming. Okay, I’m here—quit crying.”

  Riley slapped his arm. “What could you be dreaming about at a time like this? You weren’t breathing, and you didn’t answer. I thought you were dead.”

  “Sunlight and comic books and popcorn,” he answered. Riley stared at him blankly. “Never mind. Help me up. I told you, I don’t have to breathe anymore—just if I need to talk. How long was I asleep? My whole body is stiff.”

  When Riley repositioned his legs, they were cold and stiff, like the ends of a scarf that had been left in the snow. “You were only out a few minutes,” she said. “You better keep moving, or you might be stuck like that forever.”

  As they neared the car at the rear of the train, the conductor approached them and extended his skeletal hand. “See your tickets,” he clacked. Riley set them gingerly into his hand. He leaned over them so that the rib-cage lantern shone onto the tickets. He tore them in half, tucked the stubs into his eye sockets and offered his bony hand to Riley. “You do twinkle, Miss. Few that ride this train sparkle as you do. Anyone bothers you, call for me.” Once she was safely on board, he turned and clattered toward the front of the train.

  Dekker struggled to climb the stairs. “What am I, invisible?”

  “It’s like he didn’t even see you.”

  Dekker shook his head. “No, he knew I was here. But I’m not an unusual passenger on this train. You are.” The rear car had cushioned bench seats on both sides and stairs at the back that led up to a small observation bubble. He lowered his voice as they moved toward the seating area. “Don’t get freaked out, but there are already passengers in this car. Some of them look worse than I do. If we pretend they’re not there, maybe they’ll ignore us.”

  Riley stifled a gasp. “Do we have to ride in here?”

  Dekker teetered forward, using the poles on either side of the aisle for balance. “Just stay behind me. Look down at the floor if you have to.”

  Nearly every seat was taken by someone in a state of decay. The first person they passed appeared to be an unusually short man reading a newspaper—until Dekker realized his torso was sitting separately from his legs. A pretty woman with long blond hair had an eye that kept falling out every time she moved her head. “Darn it, not again,” they overheard her say as they walked passed her.

  Riley knelt down and picked up the eye that had rolled into the aisle. She passed it to the lady. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” The woman smiled. The eye made a sucking sound as she popped it back into place. It was looking off to the side, but she didn’t seem to notice. Another man, who was holding a golf club, had small puffs of smoke wafting from his hair. He stared blankly out the window. Riley giggled.

  “I thought you said you were scared.”

  “These are just regular dead people. They don’t seem so bad.”

  “Nice. Regular dead people. Well, they do seem more comfortable with it than the folks on the last train. Don’t look to your left. At least I’m not half a skeleton like that guy.”

  They reached the end of the car. “Now what?”

  Just then the walkie-talkie crackled. “Ahoy, are you there?” said Captain Tom.

  Riley lifted the speaker to her mouth. “Go ahead. What took you so long?”

  “I’m at the station, but it was a close thing,” he replied. “Cobb was right behind me with his troops. I had to cut back and forth underneath the train to give him the slip.”

  “Did he get a ticket?” asked Dekker.

  “I don’t believe so. He went straight to the front passenger car. Harper’s still with him.”

  “Perfect. We’re in the observation car. Riley will put the walkie-talkie in place.”

  The train whistle blared outside. The engine thrummed as the train prepared to depart the station. “Fortune’s favor go with you,” said Captain Tom.

  Dekker turned to his sister as the train lurched its way out of the station. “Here, give me your ticket stub.” Dekker wedged their stubs into the battery slot on the back of the walkie-talkie and passed it back to her. “You remember what to do?”

  “But what if I can’t?”

  “If you can pick up an eyeball, you can do this. Cobb won’t believe it from me. Now, sit here on the seat closest to the rear door. I’ll hide in the observation bubble until Cobb finds you.” Riley sat down, and Dekker struggled up the narrow set of steps to the viewing area.

  The engine throbbed and the train accelerated as they began to descend the hill. But he had no more time to think about what that meant, because the door crashed open at the far end of the car.

  Riley whispered into the walkie-talkie. “Captain Tom, do you read? Cobb’s here. I’m turning the volume up.”

  “Yes, loud and clear. Ahem! So, Riley, since I won’t be able to talk to you like this when we get home, there are some things you ought to know.”

  “I thought we took good care of you already, Ranger—I mean, Captain Tom.” Riley spoke very loudly and looked down at the floor. Cobb was standing at the other end of the car. His clothes were muddy and his once-perfect blond hair was plastered to one side of his face. He clutched the bone music box close to his chest. Harper stood behind him. Her eyes looked swollen and damp, as if she’d been crying.

  Cobb strode purposefully to the rear of the train. Harper followed closely behind him.

  Captain Tom’s voice came from beneath the seat. “You silly girl. You always walk as if you are walking me, when in fact I am walking you, as a favor to your mother. That is why you must—”

&nbs
p; Riley yelped as Cobb’s claws dug into her scalp and yanked her to her feet. “Get that mutt before I rip your head off,” he snarled at her.

  “Ow, stop! He’s right there. Get him yourself,” Riley said.

  Cobb threw Riley across the aisle, and she banged against the window on the other side.

  Harper tried to help Riley to her feet, but Dekker stumbled down the stairs and pushed her away. “Back off!” he shouted.

  Harper gasped. “Oh, Dekker, you look terrible.”

  They were interrupted by Cobb’s cries of rage. “What’s this?” He spun and faced them. He was shaking the walkie-talkie. “Where’s that dog?”

  Captain Tom’s voice droned through the speaker. “And that’s how we navigated the Northwest Passage in the summer of 1906. Are you still picking up my signal? Is Cobb there yet?”

  Cobb pushed the button and screamed into the speaker. “Yes, Cobb’s here!”

  “Give it back,” shouted Riley. She jumped to try to reach the walkie-talkie, but Cobb held it above her head.

  “This has caused enough trouble for one day. I think I’ll keep it as a souvenir.” He stuffed the walkie-talkie into his pocket and moved back so Riley couldn’t reach it.

  Dekker and Riley exchanged a look. Riley ran to the front of the car and disappeared through the door.

  Dekker stepped forward. “It’s over. You lose. The captain is still back at the station.”

  Cobb kicked an empty seat. “How did you—? Never mind; ask your stupid question. Not that it’ll matter. Once the train drops into the valley, you can never get back.” He looked out the window. “Feel that? It’s speeding up. We’re only minutes from the gorge. No one ever comes back from there.”

  Dekker stared at Cobb’s moon-pale hair, his torn, filthy clothes and the music box clutched desperately to his skinny chest. Then Dekker looked into his lifeless black orbs. “How can I get Riley home?”

  Cobb laughed. “Of all the secrets you could have learned, that’s what you spend your question on? Do you have any idea what others have sacrificed to be in your situation? I’ve been to every corner of Nightside. Not many can boast that. I could have guided you through the city of the dead, or across the Wayward Bridge to the uncharted territories.” Cobb leaned closer and hissed, “I could have told you how to get your heart back.”

  Dekker looked at Cobb. Every bone in his body felt so heavy, and the whispering in his ears had steadily increased as they approached the gorge. “Are you going to answer the question, or are you going to break our deal?”

  Cobb gnashed his teeth. “Fine. You have to find a way off the train before it hits the gorge—which will be about a minute from now, by the way. No living passenger has ever survived the drop as far as I know. If you manage to escape the train, you walk back until you reach the fork in the tracks. Go to the left along the other track instead of returning to the station. That’s the way home for the living—not that you are anymore.”

  At that moment Riley burst through the door at the front of the car. “I found him!” she said.

  The skeletal figure of the conductor swept in behind her. “Tickets, please,” he clacked. He stepped through the passengers toward Cobb, Dekker and Harper, and extended his bony hand.

  Cobb began to smooth his hair and straighten his clothes. “Well, it’s been delightful.” He flashed his sharp teeth. “Enjoy the gorge. It should be especially painful for those of you still living.”

  Dekker looked at Cobb. “What about you?”

  He laughed. “No way—no one to play with down there.”

  “How are you going to get off?” asked Harper. “Didn’t you say no passenger had ever escaped before?”

  Cobb backed away from them as the conductor approached. “Ah, but I’m not a passenger. I never received a ticket. That makes me a stowaway.”

  Dekker gripped Riley’s hand. “And stowaways get tossed from the train,” Dekker said.

  “Tickets.” The conductor’s bony fingers extended into their midst. He clutched Harper’s ticket and brought it to his eye socket, matching it to its other half.

  Dekker and Riley looked at each other. “We don’t have any, sir,” said Riley.

  Cobb snorted. “Nice try. He can tell who’s got a ticket and who hasn’t.”

  “But you took our tickets, Riley’s and mine, when you took the walkie-talkie,” said Dekker.

  Cobb grabbed it out of his pocket and turned it over. Two silver stubs were wedged into the battery casing. “No! These aren’t mine. I don’t want them! Take them back!”

  The conductor leaned in toward Cobb, and his lantern light shone onto the tickets. “Those will do fine,” he clacked. Dekker thought the conductor’s jawbone formed a smile just for a moment. Cobb’s marble eyes spun furiously, and Dekker could still hear him stammering when the conductor hoisted Dekker and Riley up by their arms. He swung away from the seat and in two strides was standing out on the train’s rear platform. The track suddenly fell away as the train flew over the edge, and they began to fall into the gorge.

  Eleven

  “Happy landings,” shouted the conductor, and with a mighty heave he threw them from the train. Dekker and Riley crashed hard onto the ground at the side of the track. They bounced a few times and rolled to a stop. Pebbles scudded past them and over the edge into nothing. Dekker lay on his back and looked up at the stars that hung frozen in the sky above him. After a while he said, “Riley, are you okay?”

  “I think so,” she answered. “I landed on top of you.” They both sat up and looked at the track that disappeared at an impossible angle over the lip of the chasm.

  Dekker crawled away from the edge. “I feel drawn to that place, almost like a magnet is pulling me down. But Cobb and the station agent both said we’d never make it back from there.”

  Riley took his hand. “What’s down there, do you think?”

  “Harper said she lived there with her mom as a kid, in a city for the dead.”

  Riley squeezed his hand. “Do you like Harper?”

  He nodded, even though he wasn’t exactly sure what he felt. “But there’s no way I’m going down there if I can help it.”

  “I thought you were dead already,” Riley said as she got to her feet.

  “Help me up, will you? I thought I was too, but Captain Tom and Cobb both said I wasn’t dead all the way. So maybe there’s still a chance I can get back to Dayside.”

  Riley bent over and picked something up from the ground near where they had fallen. “Oh my gosh, Dekker! Look at this!” She was holding Harper’s music box. Its smooth white sides were battered but still intact.

  Dekker’s face lifted. “Where did you get that?”

  “Maybe the conductor knocked it away when Cobb was arguing with him.” She offered it to her brother.

  “Cobb put my heart in there.” Dekker lifted the lid. A skeleton girl in a lacy dress and a skeleton boy in a tuxedo popped up and began to twirl around inside the box. The tune was quick but sad, and it made Dekker want to move his feet.

  “It’s empty.” Riley’s shoulders drooped.

  “Cobb must have taken it out before he got on the train.”

  “I’ll keep it. You never know; it might be useful,” said Riley.

  “We should get out of here,” said Dekker, and they turned away from the gorge.

  Dekker felt heavier with each step he took. The whispering that had been growing since Cobb took Dekker’s heart had settled down to a low buzz. The scrubby plants at the edge of the tracks plucked at him, rustling and twisting. Dekker thought he saw sets of eyes looking out at him several times, but he said nothing to Riley. The urge to turn around was overwhelming, but every time he wanted to stop, Riley clamped down on his hand and dragged him forward. How long have we been climbing? Dekker wondered. Half an hour? Half the night? He could no longer see the moon, but he didn’t think that meant anything. This was Nightside, after all. It was always dark.

  At last they emerged from the bushes and
onto the flat section of track that led back toward the station.

  Riley sighed. “I’m glad that’s over. Dekker, your hands are like ice.”

  “Really? I didn’t notice.”

  “That’s not good,” said Riley.

  Soon they arrived at the fork in the tracks. In the distance they could see Tilted Station. After a moment of rest, they turned away from the direction of the platform and started walking along the other tracks, as Cobb had told them to.

  “So how will we know what to do to get home?” Riley asked.

  “I’m not sure. I was hoping we would know it when we saw it.”

  “Pfft. As if that’s going to work. Can’t you commune with the dead or something?”

  Dekker glowered. “How should I know? I can barely walk.”

  Riley stopped and grabbed Dekker’s arm. “Do you hear that?”

  He lifted his weary head. “It sounds like a squeaky wheel.” Someone, or something, was moving toward them along the rails. Not as quickly as the midnight train, but Dekker knew he could not outrun it, whatever it was. He looked around for somewhere to hide, but the ground was flat and covered with short dead grass in all directions. Dekker turned to his sister. “You run. I’ll try to stall whoever’s after us. Maybe you can still make it out.”

  But Riley shook her head. “No way. I’m sticking with you.”

  Squinting into the gloom, Dekker saw that a small handcar with a pump lever like a teeter-totter in the middle was approaching. The person working the pump was blowing like one of the huge workhorses they had seen at the summer farm expo. With a growing sense of dread, Dekker realized that the person was wearing a lavender housedress. A printed canvas shopping sack sat at her feet.

  “Oh, no. What is she doing here?”

  Aunt Primrose stopped pumping, and the rig slowed immediately. Riley ran over to the tracks. “Auntie, how did you get here? Are you dead, like Dekker?”

  “Nearly dead,” added Dekker. “I mean, I’m still a bit alive. I think.”

  The handcar groaned in relief as the old lady climbed awkwardly down. She smoothed the front of her dress. When she looked at Riley and Dekker, she smiled. Her eyes sparkled, for once. She strode forward and enveloped them both in a mighty hug. “Well, here you are. You both came through unharmed.”

 

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