Archibald Lox and the Bridge Between Worlds Read online

  “You can kip by that wall,” she says. “I’ll make my bed by this one.”

  “Just lie down on the ground?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about sheets and pillows?”

  Inez sighs. “We’re not in the Born, Archie. I often have to do without creature comforts. If you’re determined to be my companion, you must do without them too.”

  She lies down, and since the light is starting to fade, I curl up as instructed.

  “Where do you think the people who lived here went?” I whisper as I’m waiting to drop off.

  “I don’t know,” she says.

  “Are we safe?” I croak.

  “I can’t be sure,” she answers truthfully.

  “Should we take turns sleeping?”

  “No need.” She stretches and yawns. “I’m more drained than I realised. The day’s caught up with me. It’s been a long one.”

  “You can say that again,” I mutter, and Inez laughs.

  “Are you hungry?” she asks. “Do you want me to pick some mushrooms?”

  “No,” I say, too tired to think about food. “I’m not thirsty either. That’s strange, isn’t it? After all that walking, I should be gasping.”

  Inez makes one of those noises in the back of her throat. “Go to sleep, Archie. Pleasant dreams.”

  “Yes,” I yawn. “You too.”

  I stretch out and try to get comfortable. The light from Inez’s fingers quenches. I consider how weird it is to be sharing a room with a girl who was a stranger this morning. I begin to think back through the day, everything from the bridge onwards, but while I’m turning in search of a soft spot, something switches off inside my head, and I’m dead to the world in seconds.

  9

  I bolt awake to nightmarish, high-pitched howls.

  I hear scrabbling sounds and cry out with fear, trying to scrape my way through the wall with my fingernails. Then —

  “Quiet,” Inez snaps. “It’s only me.”

  I fall still, but my heart goes on beating at top speed.

  Inez rubs gleam together and I see from the resulting glow that she’s drawn her knife and is waiting in a crouch by the door.

  “What was that?” I whimper.

  “Hush,” Inez says.

  “But –”

  “Please, Archie,” she says. “I think we’re in serious trouble. This isn’t the time for explanations.”

  The howls come again, ragged and repeated, the cry of a furious animal in great pain... or great hunger.

  “Wait here,” Inez says when the howls die away. She rises to leave.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” I huff, getting up and staggering after her.

  Inez looks surprised. “You want to come with me?”

  “No,” I groan, “but I’m not going to stay here in the dark by myself.”

  “Have you ever used a weapon?” she asks.

  “No,” I whisper.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to, if we’re attacked?”

  I gulp but nod shakily.

  She reaches down into her other boot and produces a second knife, which she passes to me. It feels cold in my hand. I’m sure I won’t be able to do much with it, but having something to defend myself with lends me some strength and the worst of the tremors subside.

  The glow starts to fade.

  “Are you going to light up more gleam?” I ask.

  “No,” Inez says. “We’ll be safer in darkness. The light might give us away.”

  She takes a step forward.

  “Inez,” I stop her, fighting back tears. “Are we going to die out there?”

  “Probably, if I’m right about what we’re facing,” she says, looking back at me with a resigned expression, the whites of her eyes the last thing I see before the glow extinguishes completely.

  Once outside, Inez keeps to the sides of the dusty streets. She advances smoothly, gliding along with barely a rustle. I’m making more noise but she never stops to scold me.

  The screams get louder. We must be almost upon the source but I still can’t see anything.

  Finally, when my legs are trembling so badly that I’m sure I’m going to collapse in a blubbering heap, Inez stops and says softly, “There.”

  She nods towards a beehive. It looks the same as the others, but my stomach drops, because I’m certain it’s the one I was outside earlier, while waiting for Inez. The one with the locked door. The lock that I picked.

  I left the door ajar, but it’s hanging wide open now, and something is crouched inside.

  The something is what’s screaming.

  My eyes have adjusted to the gloom and I’m able to make out a semi-human shape, but it’s thinner than any human I’ve ever seen, as if constructed solely from bones.

  “What is it?” I whisper.

  “A hell jackal,” Inez whispers back.

  “What’s a –” I start to ask, but the hell jackal roars again and I’m cut short.

  Then it steps out and my teeth chatter with naked terror.

  I was wrong about the human-shaped creature being made just of bones, but its skin is wrapped tightly around it, as if a sheet of cellophane had been stretched over a skeleton. The hell jackal whines as it moves and I get the sense that movement is painful, because its skin is too tight.

  As the hell jackal stands, its face swims into view, and a choked cry catches in my throat. The hell jackal’s lips are peeled back from its gums, making the teeth look more like fangs. Its nose has flattened out, just a couple of dark marks above its upper lip indicating where the nostrils once were. Its ears are thin, jagged strips, pasted to the side of its skull. And its eyes...

  At first I don’t think it has any eyes, but then I see that it does, sunk so far in its sockets that they’re almost invisible, tiny, sickly orbs, glowing a dull yellow colour, as if they’d been dipped in weak gleam.

  The hell jackal screams again, and if there’s a tongue in its mouth, I can’t see it.

  The creature is hairless and naked, but the flesh is pulled so tightly around its frame that it’s impossible to tell if it’s a man or woman. It has long nails, which it scrapes through the soil, hissing with pained pleasure.

  “Back up slowly,” Inez tells me, sliding away from the hell jackal.

  “You don’t think it’s seen us?” I ask.

  She sighs. “It doesn’t need to. Hell jackals have an advanced sense of smell. It knows we’re here.”

  I look at her with horror. “Then why don’t we run?”

  “There’s no point,” she says. “It’s faster than us. That’s why it hasn’t attacked. It knows we can’t escape. It’s toying with us.”

  The hell jackal’s head comes up and it screams again, then smiles wretchedly, setting its gaze on us for the first time. I almost bolt, but Inez lays her free hand on my arm.

  “I can’t help you if you run,” she says. “I’ll do everything I can to protect you, but if you run, the hell jackal will target you, and I’ll have to take off in the opposite direction to try and save myself.”

  The hell jackal takes a step forward. The urge to flee is stronger than ever, but I hold myself in check and stay by Inez’s side as she slowly backtracks, the hell jackal stealthily following as we retreat.

  “What are we going to do?” I ask, trying not to whimper.

  “Get close to the wall,” Inez says, not looking away from the yellow-eyed monster that’s stalking us. “It’s lower on this side. When I give the word, pull yourself up.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll fight the hell jackal and try to buy you some time.”

  “Can you beat it?”

  She laughs softly, sickly. “Armed with just a knife? I haven’t a hope. But if we’re lucky, rather than kill me, it will stop to torture and devour me. Hell jackals like to play with their food. They can keep a victim alive for hours while they eat.” She casts a look at me. “If it doesn’t stop... if it kills me, then chases you... turn the knife o
n yourself.”

  I feel as if I’m going to vomit, but there’s nothing to come up.

  “If you get away, look for a borehole,” Inez goes on. “It won’t be able to smell you if you escape to another zone.”

  “Why are you doing this?” I croak as we come within sight of the wall. “Why not throw me to the hell jackal and make a break for freedom?”

  “Don’t tempt me,” she says with a hint of bitterness.

  We back up until we’re almost at the wall. The hell jackal matches us step for step. The howls have died away and it’s making a low, snarling noise. I don’t need Inez to tell me that it’s preparing itself for action.

  “Get ready,” she whispers, lowering her blade.

  I glance at the wall, which is a blur because of the tears in my eyes. I shake my head and wipe tears away, forcing myself to look for a good place to jump.

  Instead I spot a white, window-shaped panel with a black circle at its centre, about the size of a football. It’s a closed borehole, but unlike any other that I’ve seen. I sense that it’s dangerous. As deadly as the hell jackal is, something inside me shrinks from the thought of opening this borehole. “There are worse things than death,” that part of me murmurs.

  “Maybe,” I murmur back, staring hard at the borehole, tumblers whirring inside my head, “but death is final, whereas this... this might be an opportunity.”

  “Any second now,” Inez says, and I see her fingers whitening on the handle of her knife when I turn to look at her.

  “Wait,” I whisper.

  “No time,” she replies.

  “I have a plan,” I wheeze.

  The hell jackal takes a step forward, even though we’ve stopped backing up.

  “I’m all ears,” Inez says.

  “This way,” I mutter, nudging towards the borehole. Inez asks no questions, just keeps pace. The hell jackal does too, no longer looking to close the gap now that we’re moving again, enjoying the twists of the hunt.

  I draw up to the wall and lay the palm of my left hand on the panel, while standing with my back to it. Even though I can’t see the borehole, I feel it shimmer, and sense a lock revealing itself in the black circle, mere centimetres from where my fingers are resting. I let those fingers slide into the lock.

  The hell jackal growls and edges closer. I ignore it, fingers exploring madly, a picture of the lock forming in my mind.

  “Archie?” Inez says as the hell jackal advances.

  “A few more seconds,” I gasp. “Then do what I tell you.”

  My index finger stops on what I sense to be the final lever. “You!” I shout at the hell jackal, making Inez jump.

  The monster trains its unnatural yellow eyes on me.

  “Come on,” I snarl. “Let’s dance.”

  The hell jackal hisses and tenses its legs. I watch closely, instinctively knowing that the timing has to be perfect or Inez and I are dead meat.

  The hell jackal leaps.

  “Duck!” I yell.

  Inez hurls herself to the ground. As she does that, my finger twitches on the lever and I feel the borehole open behind me as I collapse to my knees. The hell jackal flies through the air, screeching hatefully, arms flailing. A couple of its talon-like nails scratch my scalp, and for a horrified instant I think it’s going to grab hold of my hair and drag me along after it.

  But then it hits the panel of white and vanishes, barely time for one last howl as it’s lost to sight.

  I spin swiftly, meaning to close the lock as quickly as I can.

  “Easy,” Inez stops me. She’s looking at the panel with an awed expression.

  “It might come back,” I gasp.

  “Nothing comes back from the Lost Zone,” she says, rising, still staring at the white panel. There are dark ripples running through it now, spreading from the black circle at its heart. Her gaze switches to me and she grins weakly. “You saved us, Archie. That was a good plan.” Before I can respond, she wraps her arms around me and hugs hard, and I feel tears trickle down my neck where her cheek is resting.

  For a long time we stand there, Inez holding me as I shift awkwardly from foot to foot. I want to return the hug, but I’m crying too and my arms are shaking. I’m half afraid that I’d stick a finger in her ear if I raised my hands.

  Finally Inez releases me and takes a step back, using a sleeve to mop up her tears. “Go ahead and close it,” she says, “but only touch the lock, not the panel.”

  “Why?” I frown.

  “You’d be sucked through if you touched it,” she says. “Boreholes to the Lost Zone are lethal. One touch and you’re finished.”

  “You mean I’d wind up in the same place as the hell jackal?” I ask hoarsely.

  “Yes,” she says, “but in the Lost Zone the hell jackal would be the least of your worries.”

  I gulp, then stick a finger back into the lock – carefully this time – and twist until it shuts. Withdrawing my hand, I step away and let out a long, unsteady breath.

  “Can you still see it?” Inez asks.

  “The borehole? Of course, but there are no ripples now.”

  “It’s invisible to me,” she says. “I’d never have known it was there. Nobody but a locksmith could have spotted it. If you hadn’t followed me from the Born... if I’d been here all alone when the hell jackal attacked...”

  I cough uncomfortably. “It’s not that straightforward,” I mumble. “The door on its beehive was locked. I picked it while waiting for you. Otherwise the hell jackal would have remained trapped.”

  Inez stares at me.

  “I was a fool,” I say miserably. “I won’t do it again, I promise.”

  “Of course you will,” Inez laughs. “You’re a locksmith. Opening locks is what you were made for.”

  “But I freed the hell jackal,” I remind her.

  She shrugs. “We all make mistakes.”

  “What was that thing?” I ask. “Who locked it up and why did it want to kill us?”

  Inez shakes her head. “I’ll tell you later. I doubt there are other hell jackals here, and if there are, they’re locked up tight, but I don’t want to spend a second longer in this place. Let’s get out.”

  And since I feel the same way, we pull ourselves up onto the wall, slip down the other side and steal away, half-jogging until our drained legs can take us no further, whereupon we collapse in a pair of exhausted heaps far from the perilous beehives.

  10

  “I shouldn’t have risked my life for you,” Inez says after a long, drained silence. I look at her with surprise. She’s glowering, not at me, but at herself.

  “I didn’t ask you to help me,” I retort.

  “I know,” she says. “I felt responsible for you, but I’m on a mission and I should have prioritised and thrown you to the hell jackal, like you said. The lives of many people are at stake. It was wrong to risk everything for one person.” She grimaces, then squeezes my hand comfortingly. “Let’s dance,” she giggles. “Where did that come from?”

  I grin. “It just popped out.” The grin fades and I tremble at the memory of how close we came to dying. “Did the hell jackal kill the people who were living in the village?”

  Inez sniffs. “I was wrong. It wasn’t a village. It was a prison. The wardens must have left the hell jackal behind when they abandoned the place.”

  “They left it locked up to starve and die?” I ask, feeling sorry for the monstrosity in spite of everything.

  “To starve, yes,” Inez says, “but not to die. In the Merge, lack of food won’t kill you. Starvation just drives you mad and physically changes you. That’s how the hell jackals form. They start as normal people, but without food, their flesh withers and their brains shut down, and they become agonised, murderous beasts, haunting the zones and butchering anyone they cross paths with.”

  “Did it become a monster by accident? Did it wind up in a place where there wasn’t any food?”

  Inez shakes her head. “Mushrooms are everywhere.
Nobody starves by chance. Some hell jackals are people who’ve been chained up and left to turn, but others choose to starve themselves.”

  “Why?” I moan.

  “I don’t know,” Inez says. “It’s never made sense to me.”

  “Why would the prison wardens abandon the hell jackal?” I ask.

  “It might have been an oversight,” she says, “or the warden who could control it died or left.”

  I frown. “It can be controlled?”

  Inez nods. “Some handlers are cruel, and use them as soldiers, but others try to protect the rest of us from them.”

  “Hell jackal soldiers,” I croak, horrified. “What sort of a place is this Merge?”

  “A place of beauty,” Inez says, “of peace and hope. But it’s also a place of evil, danger and conflict, as all places are. The Merge is as wonderful and terrifying as your world, Archie. It can’t be anything else, since everyone here started as a Born.”

  I blink with confusion. “What do you mean?”

  She breathes out heavily. “I’ll explain tomorrow, when we’ve had some sleep.”

  I almost press her for answers – I want to know about the Lost Zone as well – but Inez yawns, and I yawn too as a wave of exhaustion sweeps through me.

  Setting the questions aside for now, I follow her example and lie down. Laying my head back on the grass, I stare at the alien sky, waiting for sleep to claim me, hoping I won’t be disturbed by the wretched caterwauling of another member of the starved, psychotic damned.

  FIVE — THE DEAD

  11

  I sleep fitfully, nightmares about skeletal, bellowing beasts not allowing me to slip into the deeper waters of proper dreamtime. Inez doesn’t fare much better. I hear her fidgeting and whimpering whenever I stir. We’re both grumpy and red-eyed when we get up not long after this zone’s version of dawn has broken.

  I start thinking about all the trouble that awaits me when (if) I return home, and what George and Rachel will be going through, worrying about what has happened to me. I’ll have a hell of a time explaining this when (if) I make it back.

  “What’s the plan?” I ask as we stretch and get ready for the day.