The kid stared into space and I could see he was weighin the chances, although there werent no chances, not with the Pestilence. And then call me an old rust bucket if he didnt ast a question that only a crazy man would ast. 
     How many you need, says he. 
     How many do I need!  Im whatcha might call a believin man but the kid wasnt about to do what he thought he was gonna do an if he was I was the man to stop him.  Pestilence dont come but from one place an thats Marauder claws and that little gal got two of em before the Kid got to her, so nothin to do but wait.  I said so, and the Kid he acts like he aint even heared me.   
     I ast how many Newbow.
     Son says I, let er go.  Done a noble thing an maybe if youd been in time--
     Then he takes me by one of my tubes and it just happens to be the one I was breathin through so I got kinda congested, and he puts his face up against mine with his lively eyes lookin into my dead ones, and I knowd hed pull the tube loose if he got the chance. Now it aint that I need air but I kinda got used to it. 
     Need five of em, says I.  Cut fresh. 
     Ill be around, says the kid.
     You aint gonna do it ,says I.  Not five. 
     Kid tosses me a gold piece and I knowed it fer a bet so I just nodded cause Id spoke my piece and he goes on his way and I figured him for a fool we wouldnt never see no more, but Ill be dammed if the little Jesus Christmas son of a seacook dont come back an hour later with a sack fulla wrigglers.  Pours em out on the poker table an says to me he says, Newbow you owe me gold.
     Then he grabs me with that big ham fist.  I says hey, what the hell did I do? 
     He looks at me like hes ready to split me for cordwood an says you dont tell her who done this.  She asks, you say you done it, and he brings his face up real close so I get all dazzled from the shine off his pearlies and he says YOU SAY YOU DONE IT.   Well, since he looks ready to hang my guts on a fenchpost, I says okey dokey an he walks out. 
     I opened the sack and just stared. I knowed I had my work cut out for me to make that little gal's antidote.  But first I had to set and admire them five monstrosities all laid out lookin like dyin black snakes, cause how many times does a man see five Marauder spinal cords in one bunch like a buffet service outa Hell?

 

* * * * *

     The face was that of a man but it was only a mask, a rubbery substance stretched and held by tiny clamps that fastened it across a wide brass plate.  The plate was attached to a neck of brass; the neck in turn was riveted to a torso of patch-work metals set on rolling wheels, much like those of the Nurse.  Pipes and tubes like the metal veins that fed the Nurse (and the gunman's weapon) ran all around this creation as well.  The fellow's arms were quadrupled, eight metallic appendages like a great bronze octopus, and they clanged in swift movements as he examined me. 
     This was the apparition I awoke to.  I screamed--I always awakened with a scream in this godforsaken place--and after acknowledging me with a nod and smile, he proceeded with his metallic scrutiny.  I must say his face behaved flawlessly; he winked at me, grinned, spoke, showed teeth.  His brazen body itself was remarkably supple, the tentacle arms like buggy whips, tiny filaments on each which I suppose served him as fingers.  Around him, as around the nurse, there arose a cloud of moisture that erupted from the ends of the pipes. 
     The face, despite being deathly pale, was friendly and animated. 
     "Now yew jes' relax, li'l miss, be done in two shakes uva dead lamb's tail," he said cheerily, and he whistled steam through his lips as various instruments for probing, pressing and measuring all emerged from his arms and withdrew when he had finished with them. 
     I was down quite a rabbit hole. 
     "Only 'nother minit, ma'am," he went on, speedy and fascinated.  "Yer a prime specy-men if ya don't mind m'sayin and ya seem real healthy.  Nature's been pleasant an' kind an' generous with her good work."
     I blushed at the reference but I felt at peace with this being; I could not believe he was keeping me healthy just to harm me.   He began to gently stroke my shoulders where I bore the wounds from the Marauder's claws.
     "Them's lookin' real healthy," he said. 
     "I felt a bit feverish earlier; I am afraid I fainted outside the bedroom door."
     "Ya got fetched in right 'nuff."
     Suddenly I shivered at the thought of that whited gunslinging monster carrying me to my bed, and I asked, "Who fetched me in?"
     The Doctor laughed and said, "I done 'er, lil lady.  All these extra paws on me, I was the natchral choice fer the honor."
     I smiled up at him and said, "I want to thank you for everything you've done for me; I hope I was not too much trouble."
     The rubbery face stretched in cordiality and said, "My pleasure, ma'am.  Ya wan't no trouble, wan't nothin' serious.  Lucky I had everthing I needed ta fix ya up."

* * * * *

     I woke slowly as the washcloth glided over my bare shoulders.  The water was warm and the cloth was soft but the feeling was just enough to bring me to wakefulness. 
     My eyes rebelled and remained closed, although I could sense the bright light and could see the lightning jags under my eyelids.  For some reason I could not will them open. 
     I lay supine, feeling the roll of the wet cloth.  Soapy water, a cinnamon scent.  I was being sponge-bathed; the Nurse was a truly remarkable invention, the coarsest and roughest of metals worn smooth to the touch and to the skin.
     Then I heard a giggle.
     The Nurse does not giggle, I realized.
     I forced my eyes open.
     Some woman was washing me, and she was most emphatically not the Nurse. 
     She had a golden helmet of hair piled on her head and held in place with spangles; her widow's corset, which cinched in her waist and pushed out her bosom, was a garish red-and-white striped silk.  The colour extended to her skirt, terminating in pink shoes and net stockings.  The cinnamon smell seemed to cover her entirely. 
     I gave a start and she looked up. 
     She was white, pale as an unveined marble statue, and her lips were a shocking scarlet.  My sponger was--oh, God!--a haunted and bloody-mouthed saloon--well--prostitute.  A woman of ill repute, bathing me in a prison-like garret in this ungodly town.  She opened her mouth and I saw her horrific white teeth, filed nearly to a point, with two great incisors, like white obelisks thrusting beyond rows of her ivory statuary, dripping saliva. 
     I shrank back in fear as she thrust out her clawed and ghostly hand. 
     And then she took mine in a handshake. 
     "Hiya, kid!" she barked.  "Welcome ta Cemetery!  Whatcher name?"
     I shook as she shook.  "Josephine Wells, of Tunbridge Wells, no relation to H.G."
     "Wahl, it's a real pleasure, Miz Josephine!  M'names Marie, I work here which perhaps ya kin ascertain, but Doc he's off gettin' hisself a lubrication and he wanted me to look after ya.  Doc he says after yer fever he don't trust ya takin' a bath jus yit, might sink ta the bottom an' where are ya then, I'd like ta know?   Yer clothes wuz all over dirt from fallin' outside by the s____house so they's hangin' in my room dryin' right this minit.
     "You--took my clothes?"  My eyes were fully opened and I covered myself. 
     Marie laughed.  "Aw, honey, what yew got in yer panties ain't no s'prise ta me!"
     After a strained moment I finally said, "Could I--have something to put on, Marie?"
     "Well, shore!"  She laughed again.  "Ya clean up real good, don' mind tellin' ya."
     She handed me a lush green robe.  I bundled myself into it and it was wonderfully soft and warm.  Marie sat next to me on the bed and bunched my hair and laid it across the back of the robe and then fluffed it industriously.
     "Ya got the nicest shine ta yer hair, Josephine," she said, "I do envy a natchral colorin'.  I gotta use me some chem'cals Doc whips up.  Ya hungry?"
     I was ravenous and said so.  Marie giggled and jumped up and ran to the hall doorway.  She pushed a brass button set in the wall; it rang melodically through the room and sounded a bit like "God Save the Queen. " Then she ran back. 
     We got some scrambled eggs fer ya--hope ya don't mind horntail screecher an' biscuits an' whiskey gravy.  Biscuits could be lighter but th' gravy morn'n makes up fer 'em.  You poor thang, one bowl a' soup over three days ain't enough ta keep body an' soul together."
     "Three days?"
     "Yes, ma'am, an' my land honey. wuz we worriet bout ya!  Thet first night didnt look like yewd make it . . ."
     Then she jumped like a puppy swatted with a newspaper. 
     "OOOH, I'm sorry!" 
     "Sorry?  Sorry for what?"
     "Aw, Josephine, I should'na tolja thet, Doc he says to not say nothin' 'bout it."
     I looked at her a moment, and I felt my face flush, as much out of embarrassment at my weakness as at regret for my ingratitude to these creatures. 
     "Marie, was I very ill?"
     She suddenly came up to me and with no warning gave me a bear hug--in fact, her grip (even though I was in the robe) was very much like being clutched by a bear--and she grinned again.
     "Ya had two a' them bone spurs in ya an' even though they wuz pulled out an' he'd bandaged 'em, ya had the Pestilence and we figgered ya fer a goner."
     So Doctor Newbow had saved my life.  I shook my head in wonderment. 
     "So this was all Doc's doing?"
     Marie bit her lip and a tiny trickle of blood oozed out which she licked right up and then she said, "OOOH, said too much a'ready!"
     I smiled and said, "Marie, do not worry, please.  I understand and I appreciate that he is just being modest.  He must have been the one who found me in the desert.  He pulled out the foreign objects, bandaged me--"
     If that rubbery face had been there, I would have kissed it.  Instead I hugged Marie. 
     The Nurse arrived with the tray of food and Marie was right, the whiskey gravy was simply delicious.  Marvelous tang to it. 
     And then I realized why Marie loved it so.  I still found it delicious.

* * * * *​

 

     "Cmon, kiddo, gitcher man-harness on!   Dance's gonna be startin' soon, ya kin spend all day in bed when yer dead!"
     The fourth day and I was feeling much stronger.  I had had fine care at the hands of these creatures, particularly Marie who watched over me like a mother hen with a vulnerable chick.  And like a mother hen, she was determined to shove me out of the nest into Cemetery. 
     She was a sight to behold: all in green silk with another tight-fitting bodice, which style she seemed to adore (doubtless because it displayed her charms), and with new black slippers on, made to wear for naught but dancing.  She stood on tiptoe and began to pirouette around the room, humming to herself in a lively rhythm. 
     I looked like a true Plain Jane next to her, in my modest (modest! The thing strapped me in like a straight waistcoat) dress, my shoes newly shined, my chemise repaired (a patchjob by the Doctor, but one could hardly expect miracles in that quarter).  The homely city mouse next to the vital and lively country cousin.  I should not be accorded a single dance, of course.  I was neither undead nor fitted with extra parts, and my humanity, plain to all, was simply too foreign.  I would stand or sit there in the corner because I had promised Marie I would go, and she would go off to dance with the old wolfman or perhaps one of the lily-pale farmhands, and every once in a while she would stop by and ask was I having a nice time and I would say yes--
     I was not looking forward to it.  I was but four days in this place of damnation and a saloon dance was hardly the way to ingratiate myself with the natives.  On the other hand, I could not imagine what would have been the right way to do so.  I stood by the bed which had been my constant home and finally said, "Marie, I really do not think I shall go."
     She stopped twirling about the room, her fanged mouth agape.  Then she put her hands on her hips and said, "Now, that'll be enuff a THAT, little Miss High-tone.  This here's yer comin-out party an' ya need ta MEET folks, 'specially men, if ya know what I mean."
     I sat on the bed, my head lowered.  "Marie--
     She came skipping over to the bed and settled next to me.  "Honey, yer goin'!"
     I said nothing and after a moment, quite against my will, I started to weep quietly.  Marie saw the tears and without a word she swept me up into a hug, less bearlike this time.
     "Aw, honey,don' do thet ta yerself.  Sure, yer human an' we ain't never hardly ever seen one alive; ain't nobody gonna make fun an' if they do they gonna have ta answer ta yers truly."
     I slid my arms around her and my body shook.  I was unburdening myself to--well, I was reasonably certain of it--to a vampire. 
     "I am simply no good with men, Marie.  Or women, for that matter.  I am not clever in conversation; I am far too inexperienced in the ways of the world.  Trust does not come easily to me--"
     "Aw, bushwa, ya trust me, doncha?"
     "You are different.  I mean--"
     "No, I ain't.  Ain't different t'all, most folks here's right friendly even ta strangers an' they ain't gonna look down on ya.  We jes' never seen a human thet's alive fore, thass all; Marauders allus kill em deader'n sin."  She reached up, brushed away my tears.
     "Take thet ol' wolf the other night, the one the Kid soaked up.  Thet critter wouldn' no more hurtcha than he'd hurt his own child.   He wuz drunk cuz he'd jest turnt 200 an climbin' onto s___houses is as good a way ta cel'brate as any."
     I was silent for a while.  Then I said, "Marie,my face--"
     She raised my head and cupped my face in her hands and smiled. 
     "Yer face looks jim-dandy ta me."
     I stared at her and felt ready to cry again.
     No one--certainly not Miss Gibbons or any of the girls at the boarding house--had ever remarked on my beauty or for that matter my lack of it. 
     Not much to say about me, really.  My nose is too large, my eyes too close together, my chin-- 
     Yet according to Marie I was jim-dandy.
     I stared into her dark velvet eyes.  She was so beautiful and pale, a lovely statue but with red lips, and I felt as if I could lose myself in those eyes and the embrace of her arms, which were steel but also velvet, and I could kiss those lips--
     "You drink blood, do you not, Marie?"
     "Yeah, hunny, I do.  Er wine-swills er tomater juice if'n I cain't git 'er."
     And sometimes you do not look human, do you?  You are batlike and red-eyed as you hunt for blood--?
     "Me?  Not a chance, hun, them's Red Suckers.  They's a brood from the Hill Beyond, only roll inta town once a month er so.  Me, I dont engage in no transubstantiative animalism no more.  Ain' thet a fancy term?  Doc come up with it."
     "I have blood in me, Marie."
     She was silent a moment.  "Know ya do, hunny."
     "Marie, tell me the truth?"
     "Shore, kid, course I will."
     I paused a moment and then leapt in.  "When people die in this world--"
      "Yah?"
     I swallowed.  But I had to know.   It was really the only logical explanation--"They do not--stay dead, do they?"
     She sighed, as though unsure how to begin.  "Wahl--sometimes they does, sometimes they don't.  Genrally we don't bury 'em much cuz they comes back in three days er so.  If'n a Marauder rips em up, they're mostly goners, a'course."
     "So whole ones resurrect.  That is funny in a way.  Do they come back just as in life?"
     "Wahl, now, hun--'pends on the person.  Some comes back as Red Suckers, a few as Hirsute Ones--hirsute means hairy ya know--some as Deadman Eaters.
     "What would you suppose I will come back as?"
     "Aw. now, Josephine, who ever said you wuz a'dyin'?"
     I reached out and took her hand.  "Marie, I want to die.  I wish that Marauder had torn me to pieces, left me naked yet in rags.  I cannot escape this place so I suppose I must become a part of it.  And the only way to truly do that is to die, is it not?"
     She said nothing to that and looked away, but continued to hold my hand.
     Drain me, Marie.  I have never had a lover in my life and I know now I never shall and I would rather die by your handby your bitethan by any other method in this horrifying world.  I cannot bear to live like this for another moment.  Please, Marie, please take my life.
     I had decided, I was resolved.  Death was the only path left for me.  I had died to the real world the day I went down the rabbit-hole into Hell.  Better to end it and live in the damnation, rather than simply to wait for death.
     Besides, death was peace, was it not?  Freedom from worrying about dying, because the worst thing, the dying, has already happened.  
     Marie looked steadily at me and I remembered Coleridge--"her skin was white as leprosy, the nightmare LIfe-in-Death was she--"
     Her eyes were red as fiery coals.  They were like--I blush to pen it--like reddish nipples.  Had not Coleridge written of a woman with eyes instead of nipples?  What funny thoughts come to mind when one is about to die, and that willingly. 
     I leaned back, baring my throat.

​