The Last Scarecrow

20 | Submerged

Erin jumped as the mannequin's heels clicked together. The sound echoed across the room once, twice, and then died. The plastic soldiers turned through one-hundred and eighty degrees and marched past The Blue King's throne, filing into ranks beside another elevator door.

"Follow me," ordered The Blue King.

Erin was first in line, studying The Blue King as he walked. His gait was lilting, a touch uneven, and bounced in a way that she found curious. The other mannequins walked in a regimented, mechanical fashion. She slowed and let Twelve and Jack pass, studying the way they moved too.

Jack's walk was a stomping, shuffling march, his feet taking short, powerful steps.

The scarecrow's gait was large and unwieldy, as though each time she moved she was having to compensate for a hundred unknown variables in her lopsided construction.

Erin smiled to herself. Twelve was truly unique and utterly weird.

She skated forward and watched The Blue King again.

He wasn't built in a factory or a soggy woodland or an old barn.

He was made in a womb. That walk was undeniably—human.

The realisation hit her like a punch in the gut.

Erin felt like crying.

For so long she'd been the only one. The last one.

And now here he was.

Another human.

A man.

A boy.

A King.

Every emotion she possessed spun inside.

Then, a new thought hit her.

Clyde?

It couldn't be.

No.

The first human she'd met since The Many Years Storm and it's her long, lost—presumed dead—brother? The cruel, unrelenting world that she'd know for so long was never going to allow that. Was it?

As he reached the elevator doors, The Blue King spun to face his guests. "I'm going to show you something extraordinary," he announced. "Something that only a select number have been privy too."

He nodded to Harunara who turned and pressed a small, round button. The elevator doors juddered, then stuck to their runners. Two mannequins reached forward and yanked them back.

The Blue King eased forward and took a look over the elevator shaft. He wobbled comically on the lip of the chasm before righting himself.

"Just kidding," he professed. "Sturdy as a slab of granite."

He beckoned to Erin.

She approached cautiously, expecting to see the same square of water sloshing around some hundred feet or so below that she saw earlier. But there was no water to be seen. Just an endless chasm swallowed up by shadows.

Erin looked back at the man, at the boy, at her—brother. "Where's all the water?" she said.

Twelve and Jack glanced over her shoulder.

"Well?" Erin asked again, trying to see through The Blue King's visor.

"Hyperbaric...water...pressure...something or other. I don't know," he shrugged. "The lower floors of this building are watertight. And this is the only way in or out."

An elevator boxcar rumbled into the space between the doors, hissing dramatically.

The Blue King stepped inside and waved for them to follow.

Erin shot a concerned look at her friends, but Twelve launched herself into the elevator and hopped up and down.

The boxcar complained bitterly.

"Be careful!" The Blue King erupted, pointing to a sign.

Max Weight Limit 800kg.

"The elevator isn't indestructible."

Twelve stopped jumping.

"How much do you think I weigh?"

The Blue King tightened. "I've no idea. You could be made of lead piping!"

He rushed out of the elevator and took Erin's hand.

"It's quite safe," he assured her. "As long as the scarecrow doesn't start jumping again."

"I was trying to prove how safe the elevator was," Twelve said.

"And what a great job you did," he replied, not turning to look at her. "Erin. Come with me. I've got lots to show you."

Jack joined Twelve inside the boxcar, inspecting a panel of buttons on the wall.

Erin ran her eyes over the long line of strangely attired mannequins that waited patiently all around, Harunara the closest of all. Their odd, blank faces looked through her, their weapons glinted menacingly.

Nodding gently, she reached down and grabbed Socks by the collar.

"Come on, boy."

The boxcar juddered as they all jostled inside.

The elevator was larger than Erin had presumed. The metal walls were buffed and scratched. The red rubber floor indented with a spirograph of wheel tracks and hardened bubblegum. Twelve wrapped a long arm around Erin's shoulders.

"Would you like to do the honours?" The Blue King said, approaching the panel next to Jack.

"What do you mean?"

"There," The Blue King said, pointing to a button towards the bottom on the panel.

Rusty screws jutted out from each corner, a patina of dark green lingered around the edge. The remnants of the number 3 were still visible despite the button being pressed with more regularity than the others.

The wickerman held out a peculiar finger of twig and twine. Pressing gently, the button eased into the panel, glowing with yellow light. The doors squeaked, complained and finally shut, blocking out the ominous sight of Harunara and the other mannequins.

For a moment nothing happened.

Then, the sensation inside the elevator changed. Erin felt like she was back onboard Lazarus. She was floating, unhinged from the world, but this time she was floating hundreds of feet above—well, she didn't really know what. What was down in the depths of The Scrapers? What did The Blue King keep at the bottom of The Endless Blue?

Another light appeared on the panel.

This one was behind the number 70. It, too, had been pressed far more than the others.

The elevator groaned, hissed again, then dropped.

Erin's stomach did somersaults as the elevator plunged through the interior of The Crystal Tower. It was moving much faster than any elevator she's ever been on before. For a moment, she thought that the cables and counterweights that held the boxcar in place had failed, and they were descending to a watery grave.

She took a long breath and watched the numbers on the panel instead.

They were at 38...37...36...35...34... Down and down and down they went ...21...20...19...18... The buttons blinking on and off with warm light ...13...12...11...10... Suddenly, Erin was underneath the capsized boat, counting down. She couldn't help it. The numbers had brought it all back. She closed her eyes and the memory appeared, as clear as day. She felt the cold water against her skin, the sickening sound of ice smashing against the hull, the wail of her mother's stricken voice ...6...5...4... Her father's moans ...3... The boxcar ground to a sudden halt. The cables above yawned as a bell pinged and the doors opened several inches. The Blue King wedged his gloved fingers through the gap and threw the doors wide. Erin finished the count in her head ...2...1...0...

She opened her eyes.