The Derring-Do Club and the Empire of the Dead

by David Wake

  “Gina, calm down.”

  Galvanic energy would be like steam, and steam engines need coal, so… “Power!”

  To reconnect the power, they’d have to go across the landing, down across the underground station and through the army of the untoten to where the Graf must have turned off their galvanic supply.

  “Ness!! Gina!” Charlotte shouted. “They’ve reached the stairs to the landing!”

  That was it then, Georgina thought, unless she had a flash of inspiration: flash.

  “Flashlight.”

  “Gina?” Earnestine asked.

  “Your flashlight has a battery!”

  Earnestine fumbled into her pockets and pulled out her precious flashlight. It showed a dim glow when she depressed the button, then she unscrewed the base and tugged out the brown battery.

  Georgina fiddled around the cables and finally found two to connect to each end.

  “Help!” Charlotte yelled.

  “Hold it,” Georgina said. Earnestine did and Georgina threw the switch. Nothing… no wait, an indicator light shone dimly.

  They looked over their shoulders to see the untoten standing erect over a fallen Charlotte, their control boxes fizzing with power. Charlotte scrambled backwards.

  “Anhalten,” Georgina said. “And halt… en?”

  “And when the battery is flat?”

  “I’ll try the next setting.”

  Georgina turned the control to ‘zurückkehren’ and flicked the master switch again.

  Instantly, the moans of the untoten became a roaring, and, as one, the creatures lurched forward.

  “They are coming back into the room!” Charlotte informed them.

  “Next is ‘angreifen’,” Georgina said and she operated the device again.

  Charlotte screamed.

  “Angry! Angry!”

  Georgina struggled for the next setting and flicked the switch.

  “Nothing!”

  “No, they are attacking each other.”

  Indeed, when they sneaked a look into the underground station, they saw a writhing ocean of monsters tearing each other apart, but in the centre a calm group of men led by the Graf marched through a parting sea of the horrors.

  Miss Charlotte

  Charlotte fired: timing was the key she realised. It wasn’t a question of using all her bullets or even killing the highest score of untoten, but of slowing their advance. So she waited until an untoten reached the top step and then blew its head off. The body fell, taking some of the others with it, and so the process began again. However, as the pile of bodies at the lower level turned the stairs into a ramp, the effect of the body falling was reduced. The delay between each shot became ever shorter.

  The others joined her, firing at the creatures, trying to push back the tide, but even though the advancing force also attacked itself, the inexorable progress forced Charlotte further back and then around into the control room with the others.

  Georgina used up her one round.

  Earnestine fired four: “I don’t have any left,” she said.

  Charlotte reached for another round, but she couldn’t find a bullet amongst the stuff in the medium kit bag. She checked her right pocket, nothing – she cast the Webley aside – and then her left pocket. Her hand encompassed all the remaining ammunition. She flipped open the other revolver, spilled the spent brass onto the floor and then reloaded. Disturbingly, one of the five chambers remained empty.

  “I’ve only got four bullets,” Charlotte said.

  “We can’t let them–”

  An untoten.

  The explosion took even Charlotte by surprise and the smell of cordite stank. An untoten at the doorway, minus head, toppled to the ground.

  “You were saying,” Earnestine said.

  “I’ve only got three bullets.”

  Chapter XXX

  Miss Deering-Dolittle

  “We can’t let them take us,”? said Georgina.

  “I agree,” Earnestine replied.

  “Arthur was horrified by the idea of being untotened. He didn’t want to turn on his friends and he said he’d save a bullet for the both of us: he’d… me, and then himself.”

  “In that case you did him a great service.”

  “I loved him.”

  “Which order?” Charlotte asked, turning to the others and bringing the gun between them.

  Georgina could see issues: “Age, alphabetical…”

  “I should be last,” Earnestine said. “It’s my responsibility.”

  “I’m married, so…”

  “Widowed.”

  The two glared at each other.

  “Of course,” said Earnestine, “you decide.”

  Mrs Arthur Merryweather

  Georgina glanced between her sisters: the tall authoritative redhead and the shorter, pretty blonde. How could she choose an order, how could she shoot one of them, or be shot by one of them?

  “I don’t want to decide.”

  There were groans and howls approaching, sounds of untoten closing in.

  “There’s not much time,” Earnestine said.

  “I’ve got the revolver, so perhaps I should decide,” Charlotte said, rather too cheerfully.

  It was the same silver gun that Georgina had used against Arthur. It was too horrible.

  “We’re the Derring–Do Club,” she said, “we should… that is… I think…”

  “Fight to the end,” said Charlotte.

  “Damned right,” said Earnestine. She grabbed Charlotte’s wrist and steered the revolver to point at the opening.

  “Make them count,” said Georgina.

  Charlotte sniggered: “Did Ness use the ‘d’ word?”

  “Concentrate on the opening,” Georgina commanded.

  “Aye aye.”

  An untoten appeared. Charlotte waited until it had turned, a full target, before she fired. It dropped over the other corpse.

  That was it then, two bullets: they were truly lost.

  Miss Charlotte

  Another two appeared.

  Maybe, Charlotte thought, there might be some way to get them to line up. What had Caligula, or was it Nero, imagined: that all of Rome could be killed on a single night by a running man with a knife, if they all just lined up properly. Latin – it was never really her strong point.

  One of the creatures turned, sensing her, and moved forward.

  This one, she thought, then the next… and then what?

  It stopped, confused by the bodies at its feet as it tried to work out how to step over the obstacle.

  “Shoot it!” Georgina said, but Charlotte ignored her.

  It could work.

  She waited.

  Yes, the next one lined up, turned and started negotiating the bodies as the one in front stepped down. If she just…

  She shifted, pushing Earnestine to one side, and… squeeze – bang!

  It was so exciting, much better than cardboard targets. The head just exploded, the brass control box spun away, sparking blue, and then both bodies dropped to the floor creating a pyramid over the threshold.

  “I got two!” she said. “Did you see that?”

  Earnestine had, you could tell by her face.

  “Wasn’t it stupendous?”

  “Yes, jolly clever Lottie,” Georgina said.

  “Do concentrate on the entrance,” Earnestine chided.

  “But two with one bullet?”

  “Yes,” Earnestine said, “a pity you didn’t think of that when we had boxes of bullets.”

  Another untoten turned the corner: it had been Schneider, the March Hare, back yet again.

  Charlotte shot it.

  “That’s it,” Charlotte said, “no more ammunition.”

  The next one round the corner was alive.

  “Good evening,” Graf Zala said. He didn’t click his heels or bow.

  “Perhaps, Lottie, you shouldn’t have announced that we had no more bullets,” Earnestine said.

  All tho
se rounds she’d dropped like a trail of breadcrumbs marking their journey through the sewers just to make reloading the five chambered Bulldog quicker. Charlotte threw the empty revolver away, picked up Georgina’s fallen rifle and held it like a club. It felt hefty.

  The Graf smiled: “Ach, so there are the three of you like bad fillérs.”

  He held a small box loosely in his right hand. It clearly repelled the untoten: the creatures shuffled behind him, trying to get around an invisible barrier to attack the young ladies.

  “This isn’t fair!” shouted Georgina.

  “Fair!” the Graf laughed. “Fair? In war? That’s rich from you English. Do you think this is like your English sport, all fair play and not arguing with the referee about whether it’s leg before elbow?”

  “Umpire and wicket,” Earnestine corrected.

  The Graf chortled: “Miss Deering–Dolittle, so concerned about the rules. War is not your cricket; play will not be stopped by rain.”

  “I challenge you to a duel,” said Earnestine.

  “You! A mere woman? Challenge me to a duel? No, there is no honour in fighting women.”

  “And there’s honour in cold–bloodedly murdering women?”

  “Or men chained to the wall,” Georgina said.

  A light breeze swept through the room.

  “One of the men as my champion then?” Earnestine suggested.

  “One of the men: that Captain and his Lieutenant… or my brother Pieter. As you know I could defeat them all, you’ve seen me with a sword, but no, Miss Deering–Dolittle, no. They will be processed and join the ranks of my untoten regiments.”

  “Like my husband, you monster,” Georgina screamed, a sudden squall adding to her gusto.

  The Graf noticed and turned: “What is that?”

  Something howled through the tunnels.

  “We did open the flood gates,” Earnestine said. “It just took time.”

  “That’s air,” Charlotte pointed out.

  “Being pushed by the weight of water.”

  The Graf started running: “Mein Gott!” He forgot the sisters in his rush, the untoten controller repelled his creatures, parting them in a way that would not work against the onrushing water.

  “It’ll wash all the untoten out into the Thames,” said Georgina.

  Charlotte realised what this meant: “Then it’s over.”

  “Yes,” said Earnestine, “but I really think we should be somewhere else.”

  They looked out onto the landing overlooking the train. In front of them, the gantry moved again, ready to activate another wagonload of corpses. The running Graf reached the platform. Already the ranks of monsters were reforming behind him, noticing them, and starting to shamble back towards them.

  “It’s full of untoten,” Georgina said.

  “Yes,” said Earnestine, “but very soon it’ll be full of water.”

  “Be eaten or drowned?” Charlotte asked.

  And then, the deluge came.

  Chapter XXXI

  Miss Deering-Dolittle

  The water burst from the tunnel below, swept around the train and gushed along the railway line under them. The wave broke on the staircase, washing the untoten away.

  “The Graf went up that staircase,” said Charlotte.

  Earnestine looked and saw a black opening, the first few steps visible before they disappeared into the darkness. Between the landing and that far staircase was a platform, a train, strange galvanic equipment, flood water and a growing mass of untoten.

  “He’s got away,” said Georgina.

  “No,” said Earnestine. “He might… Pieter.”

  Despite the water, the train below them moved forward and the gantry rose, swung up and back to attach to the next carriage. The electrodes buzzed and fizzed, the doors opened a moment later to disgorge the horrific contents, the monsters attacking each other and then seeming to scent the sisters.

  Earnestine spoke: “When it comes forward again, we’ll jump onto it.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Georgina said.

  The machine moved through its cycle once more and Earnestine took two strides back and then ran at the edge, leapt up and sailed through the air to land uncomfortably on the metal gantry.

  Charlotte yelled: “Tally ho!” She made the jump easily and kept hold of the rifle.

  “Gina, come on!” Earnestine shouted.

  “I’ll wait for the next carriage,” Georgina shouted back as the mechanism moved away.

  “Gina! We stay together.”

  Untoten rose from the waters and slipped up the stairs. They bit and tore at each other, but the mass moved ever closer, pushed by the force of their struggle and the rising waters. One spied Georgina, a sniff upon its ruined face, and then it shambled closer. Another followed.

  “Ness,” Georgina whined.

  The mechanism clunked as it went through its cycle.

  Georgina backed into the control room.

  The machine clunked over to its near position.

  On top of it, Earnestine held out her hand trying to reach across the divide, just as she had when the train carriages had separated in Europe.

  Earnestine and Charlotte shouted: “Now!”

  Georgina ran, quickly, dodging the untoten, but one caught her dress when she jumped. The monster yanked her back as the material ripped free, so that she twisted in flight. She hit the gantry, and then fell forward towards the frothing flood waters full of writhing creatures.

  Mrs Arthur Merryweather

  But her bodice hoicked up as hands grabbed her from behind. Earnestine and Charlotte pulled her up just as other claw-like hands caught her flailing boots to drag her down.

  The machinery bounced around, then moved up. As Georgina rose, one of the hideous monsters came with her out of the flood water. They saw the danger: Earnestine held tight and Charlotte slithered down Georgina’s dress, grasping the bustle for support, and reached lower with her free hand. The creature bared its teeth as Charlotte tugged at Georgina’s laces: once, twice and–

  The boot came off and the creature fell away with it. When it struck the surface, it splashed the water aside, briefly revealing a submerged horde of untoten.

  They were safe on the gantry as its actuator lurched it away from the landing, but they all had to duck beneath the fizzing and sparking electrodes to avoid being struck by the artificial lightning.

  “All together,” said Earnestine, “then run for the doorway.”

  “Wait!” Georgina shouted. She bent down and undid her other boot. “Ready.”

  Earnestine and Charlotte chanted together: “One, two… jump!”

  They launched themselves up, each holding one of Georgina’s arms.

  They all landed in the water as if they had just leaped out of a bathing machine in Brighton for a dip: it was icy and shockingly cold. They sloshed forward, ineptly, until Georgina’s bare feet found purchase on the steps. She fell to her hands and knees, and moved upwards like a toddler, clambering until she was out of the water.

  Earnestine and Charlotte kicked and clubbed back some of the drowning untoten and then they too ran up the staircase.

  Up they went, round and round, dizzyingly and then along a rough corridor lit by burning torches. It slanted upwards, sharp and cutting underfoot, until they came to a simple door.

  Georgina opened it and beyond was darkness, except she saw a band of light shining across her toes. Reaching out, she felt something push back, a heavy material, and as it moved before her, more light appeared on her left. It was a tapestry hiding a secret door.

  The corridor beyond was plush, with beautiful wallpaper, and Georgina recognised the décor of the Austro–Hungarian embassy.

  They made a strange out–of–place trio in this rich and important building: Earnestine with her flashlight, Georgina barefoot like a pauper and Charlotte with an unloaded rifle. They were dirty and soaked.

  “You kept your rifle dry,” Earnestine said.

  Charlotte b
eamed.

  Somehow they had come full circle. None of them had taken compass readings, Georgina was ashamed to realise.

  “Billiard Room,” said Earnestine. “This way.”

  “No this,” said Charlotte, “I walked all round here trying to find a window to climb out of.”

  “They’ll have moved them,” said Georgina.

  “We have to start somewhere,” Earnestine replied.

  “There’ll be soldiers.”

  “Then we’ll deal with them, we must find Pieter and the others.”

  Georgina felt herself turning cold and dead herself: “There’ll be untoten. Like Arthur… they may be untoten already.”

  “Then we’ll deal with them.”

  “No.”

  “We must. Do you want them to remain like that?”

  “No!” For Georgina that was worse, horrible beyond belief. “Let’s get there in time.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  “We’re the Derring–Do Club,” said Charlotte.

  They’d used that expression to taunt them at the college, but now it seemed to Georgina like a rallying cry.

  Around the corner were bodies, servants caught and attacked by untoten. Clearly the staircase hadn’t been the only way from the tunnels to the embassy, and the waters had forced the army of the dead to turn on its own side.

  They reached a big mahogany door.

  Charlotte paused with her hand on the elegant brass handle: “One for all,” she said.

  “England, Harry and Saint George,” Earnestine replied.

  Georgina could think of only one thing: “Revenge.”

  In they went.

  Miss Charlotte

  There was no-one there.

  The billiard table was still pushed to one side.

  “The Prince and Merryweather’s swords haven’t been tidied away,” said Charlotte.

  “I beg your pardon,” Georgina said.

  “Oh, they fought a duel.”

  “Who?”

  “Prince Pieter and… I’m sorry, Captain Merryweather.”

  “Why?”

  “Over you and Ness.”

  “They got confused,” said Earnestine. “Gentlemen, honestly, they get themselves in such a dither and need us to sort them out.”