The Inexplicables (The Clockwork Century 4)

And Rector saw them.

The sasquatch was facedown in the last of the salmon, ignoring the needle-thin bones and slurping the scales, blood, and juices as if he was half-starved—which he probably was. How long had he been inside? Weeks, at least. What was there to eat within the wall? Nothing, except for rotters. And how good could they taste?

He hunkered forward, and even in that position he looked bigger than Captain Cly, heavier than three or four men put together. He was covered in hair the color of tobacco and cherry pits; his hands were long enough to play two octaves at a stretch on the piano in Maynard’s. As the creature ate, his body quivered and the ratty, clumped locks of his fur trembled and swayed.

Houjin was seated against the same building that Rector held for support. He did not look hurt, but his arms were curled around his knees and he panted, trying to catch his breath inside his mask. Zeke was between Houjin and the sasquatch, his fireman’s ax held up in warning. The weapon shook in his hands, too heavy by half, but he planted his feet and dared the creature to take a step toward his friend.

The sasquatch didn’t care. Yet.

Rector kept his voice as calm as he could, and said, “Fellas, come on. While he’s eating. Let’s go. Zeke, put that thing down. Huey?”

Houjin turned his head to see Rector, but he didn’t otherwise move.

“I’ll … I’ll help you,” he said, in case Huey was too scared to move, or in case he was hurt and Rector couldn’t see it. “I’m coming,” he added. Still clinging to the wall’s edge—purely because he believed it was stronger than the long-armed brute before him—he followed it to the stunned or injured boy and bent down to reach him.

Neither of them looked away from the sasquatch.

But Rector whispered down, “You all right?”

“Yes,” Huey whispered back. “Zeke? Zeke, let him go. He doesn’t want you. He doesn’t want me. He just wanted the fish. ”

“And he’s almost out of fish,” Rector warned.

Zeke seemed glad for the excuse to lower the ax. It swung from his hands like a clock pendulum, until it knocked against the ground. “I don’t want to hurt him, anyhow. ”

“I know you don’t,” Rector said, still afraid that one loud word would shatter the fragile moment. “Let’s go, us three. Let’s go back to the jail, and find Angeline. Let’s leave while that thing’ll let us. ”

But now Zeke hesitated. “Look at him. He’s in real bad shape, same as the fox was. ”

“We’re none of us in tip-top condition, kid. Let’s get out of here. ”

“Wait,” the younger boy said plaintively.

Houjin climbed to his feet, using the wall to brace his back as he scooted to an upright position. Rector held out a hand to him, and Huey took it—and it was only then that Rector saw that his shirt was torn, and his chest was covered in long scratches where the creature had seized and absconded with him. If they didn’t hurt now, they’d hurt later. The Blight would see to that.

Rector pulled Houjin over, helping him step across a fallen slab of brick and drawing him back, farther away from Zeke … who still hadn’t moved.

Huey found his voice. “Zeke, let him alone. We’ll find Angeline and come back. ”

“You two go without me. ”

“Nothing doing,” Rector said. “We’re all three leaving. ”

“Be patient. Just be patient,” he urged. “He didn’t hurt Huey. Not bad, and not on purpose if he did. He could’ve hurt him, and he didn’t. ”

The sasquatch had eaten the innards and had moved on to the fins, picking them apart and gnawing the chewy, tough flesh as if he’d consume every part of the fish—even the parts that should not be eaten. The fins were tougher than they looked, but he scraped them between his teeth, nabbing every stray sliver of nutrition.

And then he was finished. His hands were empty—licked clean, even—and there was nothing else to distract him. He turned his attention to Zeke, who was standing closest. The ax was still head down on the street, threatening no one and nothing.

The sasquatch lifted his massive head and grunted.

Zeke swallowed hard. “Your eyes,” he said to the sasquatch. “They’re going gold, like the crows. ”

“Maybe his eyes have always been gold. Zeke, I swear and be damned…” Rector complained.

Zeke ignored him. “We want to help you,” he said to the creature. “We want to help you feel better, and go outside where your lady friend is waiting for you. You want to go back outside, don’t you?”

“He don’t understand you!”