Button Hill (9 page)

Captain Tom padded closer to Dekker and licked his hand. Dekker felt immediately warmer where the dog had touched him. “No,” said Captain Tom, “I know what completely dead tastes like. You're only nearly dead. But you've got to find your heart soon, or you'll be too far gone to get back to Dayside.” He licked Dekker again and flopped down beside him. “This may look undignified for a sea captain, but if I warm you up, you may last a bit longer. Sit down here with me. I'll try not to notice that you smell like rotten fish, and you tell me your plan.”

After getting his instructions, Captain Tom loped away toward the house. Riley shouldered her backpack and helped Dekker to his feet. Dekker leaned on her more heavily as they neared the train station, and Riley staggered along the fence as best she could. The moon rose through the sky; it would soon be midnight. When they reached the station, they climbed the wooden steps to the platform and approached the ticket counter.

The station agent was waiting for them. “Tickets?” he rasped.

“Yes, please. Two tickets for the midnight train.”

Riley pulled on her brother's arm and whispered, “Dekker, did you know that man has no skin on his hands?”

The skeleton man flexed his long fingers and tapped them in an intricate pattern on the counter. “Station agents always come from the Bone clan. As our flesh gives way to bone, we forget who we once were and so learn the ways of the dead.” He turned his sallow face toward Dekker. “The train at the Witching Hour—are you sure? That train's bound for Understory, deep into Nightside. The dead don't come back from there. In your condition, it will be the last train you take.”

Dekker nodded. “Yes, sir, we're sure.”

The agent frowned and turned his gaze to Riley. “Do you know what it means to ride down into the valley, young lady? Let your brother pass into the realms below. You should take the dawn train back to where you belong, in Dayside.”

She shook her head once, sharply. “I'm sticking with my brother.”

The skeleton man printed out two tickets and slid them silently through the slot. His gray eyes were full of worry.

They turned away and went into the small waiting room at the end of the platform. There they drew the curtains across the window, and Riley sat down on a wooden bench. Dekker lay down and closed his eyes. “I just need to rest for a minute. Tell me when the train's here, all right?”

Riley squeezed his shoulder. “Not too long, okay?”

Dekker closed his eyes. “Can you check the walkie-talkie? It's got to be working if we're going to pull this off.”

She pulled a walkie-talkie out of her backpack and fiddled with the knobs. “Hey, Dekker?”

“Yeah?”

“What's it like being—you know—dead? Is it cold? Like being outside in winter in just a T-shirt?”

“No. It's more like winter is inside you. There's no color, just black and white. And there's a wind I can hear but not feel, like whispering. I feel cut off, somehow, from what I know.”

“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—”

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?”