The Deeps (Book Three of The Liminality) Read online

  Until he mentioned it, I hadn’t even noticed, so distracted was I by all the other weirdness going on.

  “Oh, it’s just awful,” said Luther. “But it’s nothing like the Deeps.” He pushed ahead of us.

  “So how’d it go with that Reaper?” said Bern.

  “Oh, no worries,” said Luther. “It’s back deep in its slumber. But I do suggest we return another way, Bern, if you don’t mind.”

  “By all means,” said Bern. “I’d just as soon follow James into the Deeps than have another run-in with that beastie. I don’t care if you are the beast-whisperer.”

  As we strode along, each of our bodies at a different angle, Bern yanked a knife from his belt and slashed a chunk of roots from the tunnel wall and proceeded to weave himself another item of clothing. He made himself a crude poncho, basically a blanket with a hole in the middle for his head. He made no attempt to align the warp and weft or to transform the roots into something more like yarn.

  He caught me gawking at his handiwork. “Another reason to miss Lille,” he said. “She was much better at this Weaving stuff, than me. Particularly when it came to cloth. But … whatever. It does the job.” His gaze stuck on me when he looked up. “James … uh … there’s … there’s something wrong with you … with your complexion.”

  “My what?”

  Luther whipped around to see. He tossed up his head in exasperation and rolled his eyes. “I don’t believe it. You’re leaving us again? Now? What is wrong with you? We are almost there.”

  “I’m not fading. Am I?”

  Bern nodded. “Sorry James. But yes. I’m afraid you are.”

  I held up my hand and found stubs where my fingers had been.

  “Wait! I don’t have to go. I can hold myself back. I’ve done it before.”

  “This close to the Core? I’m afraid not,” said Luther. “You have no control whatsoever down here. The forces are too powerful. Your soul will go wherever it wants to be and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “Crap! I’ll … I’ll be right back. I promise. You guys will wait for me. Right? Right?”

  I was gone before they could respond.

  Chapter 15: Bridgeport

  Rumbles and rattles told me I was back on the train. On my right, I could hear Ellen chattering excitedly with Urszula.

  Urszula!

  So she was indeed now cycling between life and the afterworld on her own. She was alive. Reincarnated. And I was the one who had brought her back from death. The implications stunned me.

  James Moody, life bringer? Like Prometheus? Dr. Frankenstein? Jesus? Why would I, of all people, be given such powers? It made no sense. I was such a nobody.

  Ripples roiled my stomach. I kept my eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the wave of nausea to pass and for my head to clear.

  Ellen giggled giddily and nervously. I couldn’t help myself. I wanted in on the joke.

  My eyes popped open. “What’s so funny?”

  The two girls looked at me. They sat in facing seats in the booth across the aisle. The car was half empty now.

  “Urszula just had a run-in with the conductor,” said Ellen, her face all red. “Don’t be surprised if we get kicked off at the next stop.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “Well, when the guy first came by, both of you were sleeping, and you were hunched over your courier bag, so I couldn’t get at the cash. He said, no problem, he’d come back again after he made his rounds. Well, when he did, you were still sleeping and neither of us could rouse you. I mean, you were really out of it. I was worried. I had to check your pulse to make sure you were still alive. Well, he thought you were drunk or stoned and he gave us this big, long lecture about next time purchasing tickets before we board. But the way he said it kind of rubbed Urszula the wrong way.”

  “Stupid man. High and mighty,” said Urszula. “I hate hubris. Especially in a man.”

  “She … uh … threatened him,” said Ellen.

  “He should have minded his own business.”

  “Checking tickets is his job,” I said. “We have to pay to ride on trains.”

  “Makes no sense to pay in advance,” said Urszula. “What if the locomotive never reaches the place we need to reach?”

  “She … she threatened to roast his testicles … and eat them.”

  “Urszula! That’s not cool. You can’t do that kind of thing here. It’s not how we do things.”

  She shrugged. “It was just an expression.”

  “The way he stomped off, I think he’s gone to get security,” said Ellen. “But we’re almost in Bridgeport and that’s our stop. Get ready to skedaddle as soon as the doors open.”

  “She didn’t actually touch him, did she? I mean, that could be seen as assault.”

  “He wishes I touched him!” said Urszula, sputtering. “Why would I want to touch a cockroach like him?”

  I smirked. “I don’t know. I thought you liked insects.”

  Ellen’s eyes widened. She leaned forward and whispered. “You know … that’s the other thing. We were talking and … she says she rides giant bugs.”

  “Well … maybe she does,” I said.

  The trained braked, thrusting us forward.

  “This is our stop,” said Ellen, rising from her seat. “We change here for the Metronorth.” She reached into the overhead rack for her plastic sack. “Get ready to run!” She kept her eyes trained on the adjoining car, where the conductor had likely retreated.

  As the train pulled into Bridgeport station and rolled to a stop, a man stood on the platform, holding a placard. It was him! The guy with the old Cadillac.

  “Ellen! Get down. It’s that guy! The one who’s been following us.”

  “But … we need to get off. This is our stop.”

  “Stay on the train! We’ll get off the next one.”

  “But ….”

  “Ellen! We can’t get off.”

  “What is happening?” said Urszula, her brow all crinkled.

  “Look straight ahead! Keep away from the window.”

  The guy stood calm, displaying his placard to all who exited the train: ‘James. I won’t hurt you. I just want to talk.’

  ***

  The doors closed and only when the train picked up speed and passed into some marshes flanking a large river, could I breathe normally again.

  “Next stop is New Haven,” said Ellen, peering at a timetable.

  “Can we get to your grandmother’s from there?” I said.

  “I suppose … but not by train. We’d have to take a bus or something.”

  “How far a drive is it?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe an hour or so by car. But … I don’t see why we didn’t get off. I mean, this guy just wanted to talk. Maybe he just wants to help us.”

  “But how do we know that for sure?” I said. “How does he know who we are? And how does he always seem to know where we’re going?”

  Ellen took a deep breath. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t seem like he’s one of Sergei’s people. I mean, like at the airport, he wasn’t with those other guys.”

  “You think we should go back to Bridgeport?”

  “Yeah,” said Ellen. “I say let’s chance it. We’ve got time to make our connection. And even if we miss it, there’s a train every hour in the afternoon.”

  The idea of going back was beginning to appeal to me, but not because I wanted to talk to that guy. I wasn’t convinced he was so benign. I just saw it as a nice bit of misdirection to go to New Haven and double back to Bridgeport. Whoever was after us would be left kissing our dust in New Haven.

  “Wish I had a phone,” said Ellen. “I could call Grams to expect us for dinner. But I’m sure it’s no problem if we just show up. She loves having company over. She’s a great cook. I’m sure she could whip something up.”

  The door connecting the cars opened and a uniformed conductor stepped through.

  “Oh, crap!” said Ellen. “He’s bac
k.”

  The conductor looked to be in his early thirties. He had a droopy mustache that could have used a good trim. He had his sleeves rolled up revealing arms that her hairy and duff. He definitely worked out.

  When he spotted us, his expression went sour. He rolled his eyes.

  “What’s the deal? I thought you guys was getting off in Bridgeport?”

  “We … missed our stop,” said Ellen. “We were … confused.”

  “Confused, my ass. We announce every stop three times. What the fuck? You trying to get to Boston for cheap?”

  “Listen,” I said. “It was my fault. I was snoozing and they couldn’t wake me. Honestly. We wanted to get off at Bridgeport. And I promise we’ll get off at the next stop no matter what. And … I can pay the extra. Cash. Whatever the cost.”

  “Just do me a favor and get the fuck off my train in New Haven. Okay? I don’t want to see you guys ever again. Especially this one.” He flicked his chin towards Urszula.

  Urszula forced a sickly sweet smile that was weirdly incongruous to her disposition. She slipped by Ellen and sidled close to the conductor.

  “Sir? I want to apologize for being so harsh with you before,” she said, moving closer to him as he backed away. “My friends tell me I was rude.”

  She leaned forward, invading his personal bubble, she wanted to give him a hug or peck him on the cheek. He lurched back, but she kept on coming.

  “Get her away from me! Get this bitch away from me.”

  The few people left in the car stared at us.

  I grabbed Urszula’s arm, restraining her. The conductor wasted no time in skittering back down the aisle.

  “She’s on drugs,” he muttered over his shoulder as he fled. “Gotta be. You guys need to get her some help. She’s a menace. She really shouldn’t be out in public.” He escaped into the next car.

  “I just wanted to say I was sorry,” said Urszula, pouting.

  “Are you? Really?”

  “No,” she said, with a smirk.

  “Didn’t think so,” I said.

  Chapter 16: Haven

  The train rolled into New Haven before we had even time to gather our wits and agree on a plan. We burst through the doors the moment they opened, and then stood around confused and wary on the platform.

  “So what do we do now?” I said.

  “We need tickets for the Metronorth,” said Ellen. I was glad that at least one of us was capable of thinking clearly. “Two legs. West back to Bridgeport and then north up to Naugatuck. Grams’ house is a short walk from the station.”

  My eyes flitted between every person on this platform and the next, looking for signs of Sergei’s watchers. My train station phobia had already kicked in big time, palms sweaty, heart racing.

  Ellen was already waiting by a stairwell. “Come on, you guys. We need to go out to the lobby for tickets.”

  So we followed her downstairs and through a tunnel that led beneath the tracks. As we came back up into the lobby, I paused before we reached the top.

  “Hang on,” I said, holding up my palm. “Let me scope out the room.”

  Ellen and Urszula waited several steps down while I peered over the top step and checked things out. The lobby wasn’t exactly crowded, but it was certainly busy. It was kind of late for commuters so the clientele were skewed towards retirees and students, some probably headed to Manhattan for shopping, Broadway shows and stuff like that, I supposed.

  No one paid any attention to us, except for some blonde girl standing near the doorway with a cup of Starbucks, who was staring at the stairwell. She was way too young and nicely dressed to trigger any worries, not quite the type who would have anything to do with Sergei’s racket. She was probably just waiting for a friend.

  “Let’s go get some tickets,” I said, nodding to my girls.

  As we came around a column here was a kid standing there I hadn’t seen from the stairs. In his early twenties, he wore ripped jeans, and a knit cap even though it was like seventy out. His piercing eyes met mine as he slipped out his iPhone.

  I stopped in my tracks. Something about this guy reminded me of the thugs who had come after me at that train station in Inverness. He acted a little too interested in us. I mean, he couldn’t stop staring. I had to admit, we must have looked pretty strange between my mud-smeared clothes and Urszula’s ultra-baggy sweat pants, but his gaze dwelled on us a little too long for comfort.

  “What is wrong?” said Urszula. “Why are we standing here looking at this man?”

  “He … was looking at us.”

  “Oh? I’ll fix that.” Urszula clenched her jaw and marched up to the guy. “What are you staring at, worm?”

  “Huh?” said the guy. “I … uh … I wasn’t.”

  “Keep your eyes on your own business! Yes?”

  “Sorry, I … I didn’t mean ….”

  Urszula gave him a good shove and stalked back to us.

  “Jesus!” said Ellen. “Not everyone is out to get us, you guys. I think you two need to cool it.”

  “Doesn’t hurt to be vigilant,” I said.

  “That isn’t vigilance. It’s paranoia.” She walked past me and claimed a spot in the ticket queue.

  “Listen, you’re gonna have to trust me. I’ve been running for months. Pittsburgh, DC, Rome, Paris, the UK. Sergei’s got people after us. Not just his people. He’s got a whole network. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a price on our head.”

  Ellen was probably right about the kid. He was a false alarm. But as we waited in that ticket line, I sorted out a good half dozen other suspects in the lobby.

  Of course, my staring only begot more stares. But I was determined to see them coming this time before they saw me. I was tired of being imprisoned by maniacs like Edmund and Sergei. I was going to make pretty damned sure I didn’t lose control of my fate this time around.

  Ellen’s turn came and she went to the counter with the cash I had given her. My wad was starting to dwindle but there was still plenty left. We had at least a couple thousand to play with.

  “Got ‘em!” said Ellen, holding up three pairs of tickets.

  As we turned to leave, I noticed the tears dripping on Urszula’s face. She silent, but there were big, gloppy tears running down her cheeks.

  “What’s wrong?” I said.

  “Nothing,” she said. She refused to look up at me.

  “Something’s wrong. What is it?” said Ellen.

  “I told you, nothing,” said Urszula, getting shrill. “It just comes. I don’t know why.”

  “Low blood sugar,” said Ellen. “Poor thing. We should get her something to eat. She must be starving.”

  We found a pizza vendor and got us three cheese slices. It wasn’t the best. In fact, it was pretty bad. But that didn’t stop us from inhaling it.

  Two guys came into the station lobby, hands thrust deep in the pockets of their coats. There was cold calculation in their eyes. A chill ran down my back. These two were a whole different order of threat than the vagrants and loners I had a knack for spotting.

  They hadn’t spotted us yet, but they were scanning the crowd, obviously looking for someone. I tried not to look at them directly, but I couldn’t help it. I had a bad feeling about them.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I said.

  “What’s wrong now?” said Ellen, rolling her eyes.

  “Those guys over there. I think they’re trouble.”

  “Let me handle them!” said Urszula, gripping the folds of her baggy sweat pants.

  “No!” I grabbed her before she could move.

  “Are you sure?”

  “No. Just being careful. What time’s our train?”

  “We got about twenty minutes,” said Ellen, her eyes darting around the lobby. “Now, you’re giving me the heebie-jeebies. In here! Come on, guys. Let’s get out of sight.”

  She made a bee-line for the toilets.

  “But that’s … a lady’s room,” I said.


  “Perfect, hiding place” said Ellen. “Come on!”

  ***

  So the three of us huddled together in a locked stall in the ladies room. God knows what all those other women who came in there thought, seeing three pairs of legs beneath the metal partition. But whatever their impressions, they kept them to themselves.

  It was quiet for a bit, in a lull between trains, but then a pair of high-heel clogs came clicking into the washroom. I peeked through the seam between the door hinges at a girl in an ankle-length raincoat. She stood in front of the mirror and straightened her long blonde hair.

  She wore eye shadow and lipstick that was way overdone, but it couldn’t hide her extreme youth. She had a doll-like face, reminding me of those kids on ‘Toddlers in Tiaras.’ She was pretty tall, though. She had to be in her mid-teens, at least.

  She turned away from the sinks, For a moment, I thought she was leaving, but then she wheeled around and came straight to our stall, rapping her knuckles against the door.

  “Open up.”

  “It’s … occ-u-pied!” said Ellen, in a sing-songy voice.

  The girl smirked. “Listen. I know who you are. Open up. I’m with Wendell.”

  “Who?”

  “Wendell. You know Wendell. Don’t you? He’s on his way over right now He said he’ll be picking us up in front of the station.”

  “Who is she?” whispered Ellen. “And who’s this Wendell?”

  “I don’t know.” I whispered back. “I’ve never seen her before.”

  “Listen, guys. Wendell just wants to talk. It’s no big deal. He wants to make you an offer. Don’t worry. We’re not bounty hunters. And there aren’t any in the station. I checked. Even if there was, don’t worry. I got this.” She pulled a boxy automatic weapon from her shoulder bag.

  Urszula undid the latch and flung open the door. She barreled out and slammed into the blonde girl, knocking her down. Her weapon flew free and skittered across the tiled floor. She slid against the sinks and struggled to regain her footing.

  “Stay down!” said Urszula, shoving her back down.

  “Guys. This is really not cool,” said the blonde girl. “Wendell’s gonna be pissed.”

  “Go!” said Urszula, to Ellen and me, as we gawked from inside the stall. We burst out into the lobby and down to the tunnels leading to the platforms. As we reached the tracks, a train was pulling up. We got on without even checking if it was the right train.

  Urszula rejoined us just before the doors closed. That girl was right behind her, hair askew. She strode across the platform and came right up to our window. From the look on her face, I was certain she planned to shoot us. But she just stood there and glared, mouthing the words: