Nightside 10 - The Good the Bad and the Uncanny

drifted through connecting dimensions, lost as any other soft ghost, set adrift from my moorings in the Nightside by what I’d done to myself. I saw seas on fire, under howling moons. I saw a dark labyrinth where the dead made candles out of the living. I saw men and women screaming in agony as they were burned alive in gigantic wicker men, under a bloody sun, at the orders of a great castle full of knights in terrible armour. Someone in that awful world opened a door into our reality, and I followed them through it, unobserved. But even though I was back in the Nightside at last, I still couldn’t change the state I was in.
    “Ever since, I’ve been collecting people I knew and making them like me. Sometimes just to keep me company, sometimes to save their lives when they were in danger. I made them existential, too, made them soft ghosts like me. I was too far gone to realise what a terrible thing I was doing. It’s been a long time since I could think this clearly. I’ve been drifting back and forth for what seems like forever, reaching out to people I thought I recognised, trying to get their attention ...”
    It was only then I remembered the soft ghost who’d been following Larry and me around all night, plucking at our sleeves, calling out to us. All the time we’d been looking for Tommy Oblivion, he’d been right there with us, closer than we thought.
    Hadleigh was suddenly there, a solid presence standing firmly in the midst of the soft ghosts. They all turned to focus on him, attracted by his certainty like moths to a flame.
    “Well done, John,” he said. His voice was everywhere, permeating the uncertain scene. “Now that you’ve made contact with Tommy, I can help you bring him back to reality. Make him real and solid and certain again.”
    “And all the others, too,” said Tommy, his voice clear. “Not only the ones I’m responsible for; all of them. I can’t leave anyone here, like this.”
    “Of course, Tommy,” said Hadleigh. “Everyone gets to go home. That’s what I do; that’s what I’m here for. I had to wait until John and Larry were working together because I needed both of them to do this. You’ve located Tommy, John; but you don’t have the power to bring him back. I can open a door between this place and the Nightside; but I can’t directly affect Tommy, or any of the others. Only Larry can do that, because he’s neither one thing nor another. Neither living nor dead, strictly speaking, a man suspended between two states of existence. But now, John, hang on to Tommy. I’ve opened the door. Larry, bring us home!”
    I could sense Larry’s presence, cold and sharp like an unsheathed blade. I could feel him reaching out to us; and Tommy and Hadleigh and I reached back. And just like that we were all back in the Cheyne Walk approach, real and solid. Tommy looked about him, wide-eyed, grinning uncontrollably. Larry punched the air with one grey fist. Hadleigh folded his arms across his chest and nodded slowly to himself I snatched the device off my head, and immediately my thoughts were my own again and the world was happily limited. I shuddered briefly and tucked the device away inside my coat.
    A whole crowd of new people stood around us, solid and real and aware again for the first time in God alone knew how long. Some were laughing; some were crying; others sat down hard and hugged themselves tightly, as though afraid they might drift away again. Larry suddenly hugged Tommy, actually lifting him off his feet.
    “All right, yes, I’m glad to see you again, too!” said Tommy, breathlessly. “Now, put me down before you break something! You never did know your own strength, even before you died. And bloody hell, you’re cold.”
    “Circulation problems,” Larry said solemnly. “Good to have you back, Tommy.”
    “Good to be back. Damn, look at them. I didn’t know there were so many of them ...”
    There had to be at least a hundred men and women, lost souls with their lives and identities finally restored. I recognised some of the faces. Larry and I had been talking about them earlier; familiar faces from the Nightside scene who hadn’t been seen in quite a while. Strange Harald the Junkman, in his assorted rags and tatters, asking plaintively if anyone had seen his horse. Bishop Beastly, splendid in his great scarlet cape, calling on all the spirits of the earth and air to avenge this slight to his dignity. Lady Damnation, with her corpse-pale face and