The Talisman

reappearance of Elroy was worse, but the thing between the two of them was a nightmare. It was the Territories version of Reuel Gardener, of course; the son of Osmond, the son of Sunlight. And it did indeed look a bit like a child – a child as drawn by a bright kindergarten student with a cruel turn of mind.
    It was curdy-white and skinny; one of its arms ended in a wormy tentacle that somehow reminded Jack of Osmond’s whip. Its eyes, one of them adrift, were on different levels. Fat red sores covered its cheeks.
    Some of it’s radiation sickness . . . Jason, I think Osmond’s boy might have gotten a little too close to one of those fireballs . . . but the rest of it . . . Jason . . . Jesus . . . what was its mother? In the name of all the worlds, WHAT WAS ITS MOTHER?
    ‘Get the Pretender!’ Osmond was shrieking. ‘Save Morgan’s son but get the Pretender! Get the false Jason! Get out here, you cowards! They’re out of bullets!’
    Roars, bellows. In a moment, Jack knew, a fresh contingent of Wolfs, supported by Assorted Geeks and Freaks, was going to appear from the back end of the long barracks, where they would have been shielded from the explosion, where they had probably been cowering with their heads down, and where they would have remained . . . except for Osmond.
    ‘Should have stayed off the road, little chicken,’ Elroy grunted, and ran at the train. His tail was swishing through the air. Reuel Gardener – or whatever Reuel was in this world – made a thick mewling sound and attempted to follow. Osmond reached out and hauled him back; his fingers, Jack saw, appeared to slide right into the monster-boy’s slat-like repulsive neck.
    Then he raised the Uzi and fired an entire clip, pointblank, into Elroy’s face. It tore the goat-thing’s entire head off, and yet Elroy, headless, continued to climb for a moment, and one of his hands, the fingers melted together in two clumps to make a parody of a cloven hoof, pawed blindly for Jack’s head before it tumbled backward.
    Jack stared at it, stunned – he had dreamed that final nightmarish confrontation at the Oatley Tap over and over again, trying to stumble away from the monster through what seemed to be a dark jungle filled with bedsprings and broken glass. Now here was that creature, and he had somehow killed it. It was hard to get his mind around the fact. It was as if he had killed childhood’s bogeyman.
    Richard was screaming – and his machine-gun roared, nearly deafening Jack.
    ‘It’s Reuel! Oh Jack oh my God oh Jason it’s Reuel, it’s Reuel—’
    The Uzi in Richard’s hands coughed out another short burst before falling silent, its clip spent. Reuel shook free of his father. He lurched and hopped toward the train, mewling. His upper lip curled back, revealing long teeth that looked false and flimsy, like the wax teeth children don at Halloween.
    Richard’s final burst took him in the chest and neck, punching holes in the brown kilt- cum -jumper he wore, ripping open flesh in long, ragged furrows. Sluggish rills of dark blood flowed from these wounds, but no more. Reuel might once have been human – Jack supposed it was just possible. If so, he was not human now, the bullets did not even slow him down. The thing which leaped clumsily over Elroy’s body was a demon. It smelled like a wet toadstool.
    Something was growing warm against Jack’s leg. Just warm at first . . . then hot. What was it? Felt like he had a teakettle in his pocket. But he didn’t have time to think. Things were unfolding in front of him. In Technicolor.
    Richard dropped his Uzi and staggered back, clapping his hands to his face. His horrified eyes stared out at the Reuel-thing through the bars of his fingers.
    ‘Don’t let him get me, Jack! Don’t let him get meeeee . . .’
    Reuel bubbled and mewled. His hands slapped against the side of the engine and the sound was like large fins slapping down on thick mud.
    Jack saw there were indeed thick, yellowish webs between his fingers.
    ‘ Come back! ’ Osmond was yelling at his son, and the fear in his voice was unmistakable. ‘ Come back, he’s bad, he’ll hurt you, all boys are bad, it’s axiomatic, come back, come back!’
    Reuel burbled and grunted enthusiastically. He pulled himself up and Richard screamed insanely, backing into the far corner of the cab.
    ‘DON’T LET HIM GET MEEEEEEE — ’
    More Wolfs, more strange freaks charging around the corner. One of them, a creature with curly