The Strange by Nathan Ballingrud

Author:Nathan Ballingrud
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery / Saga Press
Published: 2023-03-21T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

LIKE THE NIGHT before, we began to set up camp about an hour before nightfall. None of us had spoken much since I’d tried to interact with the phantoms, except Watson, who had taken to muttering what sounded like rhyming couplets. I’d felt a chill when I first realized it. When I asked him what he was saying, he seemed surprised, and claimed he didn’t know what I was talking about. Engines weren’t supposed to lie, unless it was part of their cylinder’s programming. It certainly wasn’t part of his.

Until that point, Sally had been the dominant presence in our little group; our attention turned to her when it came time to make any decision, and when she spoke, it carried the authority of a judge. I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t pretend otherwise. She cowed my rebellious nature in a way no one else had managed to do. I think it was because I believed her capable of any action. Her threats—all unspoken, transmitted through her eyes—were not idle.

But Watson had changed that. His threatening posture against Sally this morning, his warning to Joe this afternoon, and his odd behavior since then had shifted the dynamic. Now all our apprehensions were directed toward him.

Not him, I thought. It. I felt bad for thinking that, as though I were betraying him. But Watson was an it. Any personality he displayed was a function of the cylinder installed in his head. I had to remember that.

It was an Engine. That was all. And something was going wrong with it.

Once Joe had the fire going, he slopped something out of a tin can and into a skillet. In a few minutes I smelled ham and kidney beans. The wind carried that scent across the desert. My stomach growled. We hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Sally pushed us too hard.

“Come by the fire, Anabelle,” Joe said. “Get some grub.”

I went eagerly, Watson in tow.

“The Engine can stay where it is,” Sally said.

For once, I was grateful for her input. “Wait by the tent, Watson.”

“If you like,” he said.

Soon enough we were seated around the fire, its dancing light playing over our faces, shoveling food into our mouths. We wore blankets draped over our shoulders. I watched the smoke rise into the darkening sky, where it seemed to carry all the way out to the stars, dissipating into the dark wash of space. I could see a few familiar shapes in the stars, but I couldn’t recognize any of their names. I regretted not paying attention in school.

Joe gestured at me with his bowl, speaking around a mouthful of beans. “What’s wrong with your Engine?”

“Nothing,” I said.

“Bullshit.”

“He just don’t like you, I guess.”

“He’s haunted,” Sally said.

Joe looked from me to her. The firelight reflected in his eyes and made them look big and scared. I wanted to be glad about that, but it only made me feel scared, too. “Bullshit,” he said again.

“It ain’t bullshit. Ghosts run wild out here. We seen it all day.

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