The Inexplicables (The Clockwork Century 4)
Houjin pointed. “Down this split over here. ”
It was very, very dark down that split over there. Rector couldn’t see anything beyond the golden bubble of light that radiated from the lantern held just above his head. The light wobbled as he shifted his grip to hold the heavy old thing more comfortably. Anything at all could’ve waited beyond the illumination’s razor-sharp edge.
He stumbled and the light shook harder, but he caught himself.
Houjin casually outpaced him, and Zeke trotted to catch up. “Come on, Rector!” he called.
“I’m coming, you. I’m wearing somebody else’s shoes, all right?” He gulped, steadied his feet, and jogged stiffly forward. “You’ve got to remember, I’ve been laid up. I’m not back to myself yet. ”
“There ain’t nothing wrong with you ’cept you’re scared,” Zeke argued.
“You take that back. ”
“I won’t, because I was scared when I got here, too. Everybody is at first. Everybody who’s got a lick of sense, anyway. ” The younger boy practically danced down the corridor, tripping along the narrow edge between the light and the dark.
Houjin added, “You’ll get used to it. ”
“Like you did?”
“Me?” He shrugged. “I don’t remember. I told you, I’ve been here since I was little. ”
Rector struggled to keep up to the pair of them, leaning and stretching his arm to hold the lantern out farther in advance of his own steps. He lunged with it, trying to keep them corralled inside the shimmering globe. “This must’ve been a weird place to grow up. ”
Houjin shrugged again. “I don’t know. Every place must be. ”
“You should get out more. ”
“I do get out. I’ve been to Portland, and Tacoma, and San Francisco. And I went to New Orleans a few months ago. I’ve been all over. ”
“Ain’t you special, then. ”
“I didn’t say that; I only said I’ve been places, and all those places were weird in their own way. You’re the one who should get out more. ” Houjin scooted forward, just outside the light—and for a moment, he was lost. “I bet you’ve never been farther than Bainbridge. ”
Rector had never even been that far, but he kept it to himself.
The lantern caught up to Houjin and brought him into clear, sharp focus. He’d stopped at the edge of a long rail, a rail that was soon revealed to be one side of a track—the sort used by miners and loggers.
“Where’s the cart?” Rector asked. Surely it must have one.
“Over here,” Zeke called. He gestured for Rector to follow him, so he did, around a hidden corner to where the cart awaited. Zeke kicked a lever with his foot and the cart creaked. He gave it a shove with his shoulder and it rolled forward. A dozen feet down the sideline, it clicked onto the main pathway.
The cart was long and flat, barely as deep as an oversized bucket and not quite as long as a wagon. In the middle a handle reared up, and waved gently like a seesaw as the cart clattered forward.
Houjin swatted at the handle and it bobbed heartily up and down. “It’s no Pullman, but it’ll get us
where we’re going. ”
“We pump that thing?”
Zeke nodded. “We pump that thing. It’s not that hard, and it’s a lot faster than walking. Climb in! You can put the lantern on that hook up front. ”
“That way you can help,” Houjin added, climbing inside and assuming a ready position.
Rector relinquished the lantern and crawled up inside, testing the boards with his feet. “Doesn’t seem like there’s much room in here for moving things around. ”
“There are wagons, empty ones. You hook them up to the back, see?” Zeke indicated a set of knobs for hitching additional wheeled vehicles. “But they’re heavy, and we don’t need one right now. So get in, and let’s go. ”
They shuffled their spots, and then leaned their weight into the lever—Houjin on one side with the brake, and Rector and Zeke on the other, at Rector’s insistence. Still under the weather, he said. Not up to his full strength, he insisted.