The
story so far…
Tom Cain rescued sisters Nikki and Willow Keats
from psychotic Draggers (humans who have been turned into animalistic killing
machines by exposure to Mist) and a Mist infestation with the help of
sharpshooter Agatha West. They fled Milton on the apparently deserted airship
Hecate. In the town of Havenvale they nearly lost Hecate to a crime-boss,
Ponderoy Charkart, but a vertically-challenged mechanic named Shorty came to
their rescue and joined the crew. On a smuggling run to Atlantis they picked up
the latest member of the crew, Dog, a runaway gladiator.
Lately the crew tried to recover several tons of
gold from Charkart’s warehouse, but they had to dump it to avoid crashing into
a lake, as Hecate had taken heavy damage during a firefight. Tom managed to
rescue some of the gold, but was dragged through a wisp of Mist. Before the
psychotic rage that overtook him caused him to kill anyone, Ishara, a
mysterious ghost-woman who haunts Hecate, twisted something inside his brain
that knocked Tom unconscious. Now she’s patched his brain to keep him from turning
into a Dragger, but the fix is only temporary. What’s more, Charkart has assembled
an army to recover the lost gold and his forces are assaulting Bedford, where
Hecate is currently undergoing repairs.
Episode 6
Chapter
3
Half-way to the staccato sound of gunfire, Willow
caught up with Tom and the Sheriff. “Tom, you have to come quick!”
Tom stopped. “What’s wrong, can’t you see we’re in
the middle of a war?”
“It’s Ishara, she’s gone all crazy, says she needs
you.”
“Crazier than usual?”
“Incandescent, Tom. You need to come.”
The Sheriff nodded at Tom. “Go on, son. One gun on
the line won’t win the battle. Best we just prepare to fight the good fight,
and surrender on our own terms.”
Tom bolted for Hecate, leaving Willow behind,
panting in his wake. When he got close he could see the entire bridge of Hecate
was lit up and shimmering, like a powerful spotlight passing through water. The
open field where Hecate rested on her stubby landing legs was bathed in pale
blue light, casting eerie shadows in all directions. He threw open the forward
hatch, and saw that the rest of the crew was waiting nervously outside the door
to the bridge. Even Dog looked uneasy.
Inside the bridge, Ishara was raging. Tom shielded
his eyes with his arm and approached her.
“You made me do this Tom! You foolish, foolish boy.
Why oh why wouldn’t you listen?”
“What’s going on Ishara. Let’s just settle down a
little, okay?”
“I will not settle down! You made me do this! It’s
on your head.”
Tom could still make out the faint sounds of gunfire
at the edge of town. He hoped the locals were still holding their own.
“Ishara, we have a bit of a war going on here. I
really do not have time for your games right now. What are you doing?”
“I’m calling to them, Tom. They’re coming. Can’t
you feel them?”
Tom could feel something. A presence that wakened
the malevolent spirit wormed deep in his brain. Something in the hills was
drawing closer.
“Oh hell Ishara. Did you call Mist and Draggers
down?”
“Had to do it… You made me. Your fault. Your greed,
foolish boy. Now go, I’m tired.” With that she flickered out like a blown
candle, leaving only a faint afterimage in Tom’s vision.
Tom turned and saw the rest of the crew staring
through the open door. “Well, what’s the matter? You never seen a ghost before?
Get going, warn the townies they’re about to face the worst Mist they’ve ever
seen!”
The crew scattered, and Tom fell to his knees.
Charkart’s men were about to be massacred. They might have been on the wrong
side of things, but nobody deserved what was coming for them. Was it all his
fault as Ishara had said? The spirit worming its way through his brain said
yes. Yes it was Tom’s doing, and it was good.
An explosion of pain ripped through Tom’s head. He pressed
at his temples, trying to hold his skull together. It felt like his brain might
explode any moment. The spirit within him wrestled him for control of the body.
It was the body… not his body in that moment. The two of them
shared equal dominance.
Tom squeezed his eyes shut, and focused every bit
of his being on fighting the evil presence. He screamed until his throat was
raw, his stomach roiled, and he fell to the ground, convulsing in pain.
Then without warning, it was gone, and Tom was
alone with his thoughts. He was curled in a fetal position in the bushes at the
edge of Hecate’s landing field. The fight with the other in his head had seemed mere seconds long, but somehow he’d
left Hecate’s bridge and wandered away in that time. He shivered against the
cold night. There was a vile taste in his mouth and a hollow in his belly.
Tom raised his hand to rub his eyes and smelled the
iron tang of blood. What had he done? He rose unsteadily and ran toward Hecate.
When he burst onto the bridge, Agatha spun his
chair around and raised an eyebrow. “Where have you been? You look like hell.”
Tom paused, panting for breath. He’d half expected
to find the rest of the crew dead. “I… uhh, checking the perimeter. How are
things here?”
Agatha tilted her head to the side. “Well, we were
a little worried about you, but all things considered it was an uneventful
night. I guess you’d know, you had the front-row seat, after all.”
“Yeah… uh…” Tom pulled out his pocket watch, it
read four-fifteen. Six hours since Charkart’s attack had started. There should
have been Mist and Draggers running rampant through town, instead Agatha was
acting like it was just another night.
Tom burned with questions, but he was afraid to
give himself away. Agatha might very well put a hole in him if he said the
wrong thing, and he’d not only given her permission, he’d written her the
perfect excuse in his journal. He swallowed. She might even be right to finish
him off now.
“I’m gonna go clean up. You want me to relieve you
on watch?”
Agatha squinted at him suspiciously, fingering the
grip of her revolver. “Nah, you look like you need the rest more’n I do.”
Tom stumbled to the head. The mirror showed him a
wild man with matted hair and dark splotches across his face. He gently applied
some soap and water to reveal himself under all the muck and blood. There were
two nasty gashes near his temples that looked to have been made by his own
thumbnails. Tom breathed a sigh. At least it seemed all the blood was his own.
He stared deep into the mirror, but as far as he
could tell he looked normal. The thing in his brain was silent.
Safely back in his own cabin, Tom collapsed on his
bed. “Ishara… Ishara what the hell happened?”
“Tom… I’m glad you’re okay.” She didn’t appear, and
her voice was a mere mosquito buzz in his ear.
“I’m glad I’m okay too.” Tom grinned, but it
quickly turned to a grimace. “Am I okay?”
“For now. Did I ever tell you that you remind me of
Nergal?”
“Ishara, this is no time for reminiscing. What
happened?”
“People thought Nergal was evil… well some did. Did
you know that? He wasn’t evil. He was actually really nice, but he’s gone now,
along with so many others.”
“Please try to focus. I need to know what happened,
and I can’t ask the others. They’ll kill me if they find out I’ve been infected
by Mist.”
“We needed him. Killing him was the big mistake.
The biggest. They all needed some place to go. Without somewhere to go, all
they did was hang around. And you can’t leave that much power just floating
around now can you? Someone’s bound to take advantage.” Ishara sighed. “Everything
was better before they killed Nergal.”
Tom had never felt the urge to slap a woman before
in his life. Now that he did it was useless. He laughed at the thought.
Slapping a ghost, that was a joke. He was a bigger joke, thinking he could get
any sense out of her.
“Why are you laughing at me Tom.”
“Not at you… at myself.”
“Really? I’ve heard your jokes. They’re not that
funny.”
“It wasn’t that kind of laugh.”
“Oh… the sad kind then? Are you sad Tom? What’s
wrong?”
“What’s wrong? I have some evil spirit fighting for
control of my body, a fight you’ve told me I’m destined to lose sooner or
later, I keep blacking out and losing time…. I thought I’d actually killed some
of my own crew! On top of that my first mate is ready to kill me if I blink
funny and I haven’t a thrice-damned clue what’s been going on for the past six
hours!” Tom paused, panting. “Other than that I’m doing great! How about you?”
“Oh, I’ve been better. I’m dead you know.”
Tom rubbed at his eyes. “Yeah… I’d figured that one
out. Thanks.”
“Really? I didn’t know until just a few hours ago.
I guess it explains a lot.”
“Like what?”
“I keep losing bits of myself… Like memories, and
other things.”
“Sanity?”
“Now, now, be nice. Though I suppose I must seem a
little bit crazy to one in your position.”
“A little bit… yeah. Just like I’m in a little bit
of a bad place myself, you know the whole turning into a monster who will kill
all my friends before my twenty-first birthday. Ha ha… Just a teensy bit
annoying that.”
“Really? I’d have thought it would upset you more.”
Tom sighed. “That was a joke.”
“See? That’s what I mean. You really need to work
on your sense of humour, Tom.”
“Yeah… why don’t you tell me a joke for a change?”
“Okay, how about this.” Ishara giggled. “I actually
managed perfect control of the Mist. I think that’s because of the artefact up
in the hills. It’s a powerful one, maybe one of the Decatria. The Mist swept
down and engulfed Charkart’s men before they knew what had happened. A few
survivors ran toward the Bedford defenders and were picked off like lambs. The
entire attacking force, hundreds of men, were killed or turned to Draggers in a
matter of hours. It was a total massacre.”
“That’s not funny… that’s horrible. Poor beggars.”
“Horrible? Oh. I guess I’m not good at telling
jokes either.”
Tom rolled his eyes. “You can say that again.”
“I guess I’m not good—”
Tom snorted a humourless laugh. “Not what I meant!”
“Made you laugh.”
“You know, the more I talk with you, the more I
wonder which one of us is crazy.”
“Can’t it be both?”
Tom closed his eyes and massaged his face. “I’m
going to sleep now.”
“We were just getting to the important matters.”
“Gosh, and here I thought we were off on another insane
tangent of yours designed to drag me down into your own personal world of crazy.”
“If you want to be like that, I won’t tell you.”
Tom rolled his eyes. “Fine, what is it?”
“No, no. You’re tired, and you need your beauty
rest.”
“Ishara, just tell me.”
“Wouldn’t want to interfere with your precious
sleep. No no no, that would be a crime.”
“Aww, don’t pout, just tell me.”
“Won’t. But in the morning you should really ask me
about how to cure you, fix the Mist problem and save the world… that’s all.”
“What? Ishara, you know how to do that?”
“Yes, it all came back to me just now. That’s why I
did it. That’s why I’m here, and that’s why I keep saving you. Good night.”
“Ishara, this is very important. I need to know
now, before you forget again.”
Tom listened intently but heard no response.
“Ishara, please tell me now. I’m sorry I called you
crazy.”
There was still no response.
“Ishara! Ishara!”
End of Episode 6
<----- Previous Start from the Beginning Next ----->
