Briarpatch by Tim Pratt by Tim Pratt

Author:Tim Pratt [Pratt, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
Publisher: ChiZine Publications
Published: 2011-08-05T17:02:03+00:00

Nicholas Gets Caught With His Pants Down

1

“Oh, fuck me sideways.” Ismael stopped dead on the sidewalk and leaned heavily against the stucco wall of an apartment building.

“What are you on about?” Echo said, frowning. Ismael was usually placid, infuriatingly so, but now he was almost shivering. They were less than a block from Darrin’s house, and Nicholas was already there, waiting for them.

Ismael extended his arm and pointed at a car parked by the curb. It was an off-white, battered four-door giant of a sedan with curiously bulging tail lights, and Echo had a vague recollection of seeing it around here before. Somebody had probably abandoned it.

“What about it?” she asked, walking toward it. She reached out and touched the trunk, and Ismael sucked in a breath suddenly, as if he’d just watched her plunge her hand into fire. She looked at him curiously, wondering if his face was paler than usual or if it was just a trick of the light.

“Wendigo.” She frowned at the name on the trunk. She’d been stealing cars since she got her learner’s permit, and she’d never heard of a Wendigo, but then, she never bothered to steal anything this old. She walked around the side and looked in the window, and saw the back seat was filled completely with papers. The passenger seat up front was filled with papers that spilled over into the driver’s side. She jiggled the door handle, but it was locked.

“Don’t touch it,” Ismael said, hoarsely, as if just finding his voice. “I know you don’t have a death wish, Echo, so get away from that thing.”

“Thing? It’s called a car, Ismael.” She rejoined him on the sidewalk. “They invented ’em about a hundred years ago. Detroit rolling iron, and it’d be a real bitch to parallel park, but I bet it’s a smooth ride, assuming the suspension isn’t shot.”

“That is not a car,” Ismael said. “At least, that’s not all it is. It’s a fucking apport. The biggest one I’ve ever seen. So big it makes my head ache.” He levered himself off the wall and stood upright, but only to take a step away from the Wendigo. “That car is from some other Detroit, where ghouls work the night shift in the auto plants and there are alien graveyards on the moon.”

“Oh yeah?” Echo said, somewhat interested. “So it’s briarpatch shit, is what you’re saying? A really unlikely car? If it bothers you so much, we can set it on fire. Smash a window, spray some accelerant on all those papers in the back, and light a match. Whoosh. No more scary car.”

“Echo, I don’t even think it would burn.” Ismael backed up farther, then started across the street toward the opposite sidewalk.

Echo sighed and followed. “It’s not going to bite you, Ismael.”

He paused for a moment, clearly still uncomfortable, even with the width of the street between himself and the Wendigo. “You actually have no idea whether or not that is true,” he said, then continued up the street, hurrying as she’d never seen him hurry.

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