The Dead Don't Rise

The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. A good outcome for Baxter and his crew, for it served as the perfect distraction to the ultimate heist.

"You better have a bunker for this crap, Baxter!" A man shouted angrily from the front seat of a large, black carriage. It barreled violently through the dilapidated streets of a tiny, rural town - a backwater junction between civilized life and the wilds.

A wave of short blonde hair popped out of the left-side window of the moving carriage, an excited grin dominating a tanned, charming face. "Get us out of here in one piece, Elijah, and you can have the bunker!"

Elijah - a pale-skinned, long-haired coachmen by day and a dubious member of Baxter's underground crew by night - growled with frustration at his companion's nonchalant attitude. "Now is not the time for that shit-eating grin, Bax!"

Gas powered lanterns illuminating against the night on the sides of the carriage rocked precariously then as the wheels ran over a large depression in the road. The two pale horses pulling the carriage snorted and fought with the coachmen for every miniscule pull of their reigns, making the flight through the town all the more rocky.

Baxter's expression - while still excited - turned more alert as he eyed the actions of the horses. "Something's got them spooked," he called.

"Gee, maybe it's the gallop through dark, unfamiliar streets and the weight of a fucking stone coffin hanging off the back of the carriage?" Elijah bit back, his almond eyes of earthy brown glinting like bullets in a barrel.

"You curse too much, Elijah," Baxter said with a crooning swing to his voice.

There was indeed a large, white stone coffin strapped to the back of the carriage and by some miracle it hadn't broken the restraints holding it in place. It was adorned in geometric shapes of golden ore and silver stars; a clear indication of its higher society origin.

Elijah suddenly gritted his teeth and pulled back hard on the reigns as a distinct and familiar shape jumped in front of the horses.

It clicked and whirred like a heavy duty pocket watch, but it was ten times the size and adorned with metal claws and fangs. The hound-like shape of the royal construct stalked into the shadow of the carriage, and the horses began to scream.

Bax's face fell at the sight before them. "Well, fuck!"

Another head pushed itself out of the other side of the carriage - a mop of curly, bright red hair furling around the person's ears and high cheekbones. A thick, six-barreled gun was held aloft in her right hand.

"Head to the river, Elijah dear!" she shouted, taking aim with her gun and firing a shot into the side of the construct. "We need to lose them!"

A terrible groaning whine of high-speed metal meeting metal grated against the ears of those in the carriage. The mechanical hound shuddered and curled around the impact of the bullet, falling on its side and letting off bright blue sparks from its latticework of machinery.

"On it!" Elijah turned the horses in place, calling out to them in clicks and whistles as he encouraged the steeds to sprint away from the downed construct.

"Nice bloody shot, Adelaide!" Baxter was once more grinning from ear to ear even as five more royal artificer hounds materialized from the shadows and gave chase.

Adelaide smirked, adjusting her aim for another shot. "Just keep your eyes on the coffin. I can handle the mutts!"

Bullets rang out, striking at the feet of the hounds as they weaved over and under carts and outhouses, swerving to avoid the gunshots and any obstacle that might slow them down.

The carriage rounded a steep corner, forcing one of the constructs to go straight through a group of storage barrels. The wooden splinters imbedded themselves into its framework, causing some moving parts to spark.

Baxter tucked his head back into the carriage, stumbling to the rear where he could reach the coffin. There was a wide open window that let him push half his body out to inspect their stolen prize.

But just as he was tightening one of the straps, a sixth hound leaped from atop one of the roofs of the nearby homesteads and tackled the coffin, its claws scoring deep into the polished stone.

"Get off!" Baxter grunted as he tried to shove the surprisingly heavy machine. The hound held on, snapping its whirring jaws at Bax's strained face. He shouted to his companions. "Need a little help here, Adie!"

A gunshot rang over his head, striking the heart of one of the constructs trailing behind them. It fell, tripping up another that had been following.

"A bit busy here, Bax!" Adelaide had one arm clutching the rails on the top of the carriage for support, her gun arm extended. "Elijah, darling?"

Elijah yanked harshly on the reigns, pulling right and then left, tossing both carriage and passengers side to side.

Baxter nearly lost his grip on the coffin as the carriage swayed. The hound was not as lucky as its heavy body was ripped away by the forces imposed by the horses and the coachmen. It rolled onto the cobbled road where it was run straight through by another hound.

The river finally loomed ahead, but the low crossing Adelaide and the crew had been hoping for was drowned under several feet of water as the flow of the waterway had been reversed.

Elijah cursed under his breath. "The river is flooded!"

Adelaide cocked her gun back and twisted to look at the riverbank. "Then we're screwed. The hounds won't stop their hunt until we immobilize them, and I'm running out of bullets!"

Baxter raised himself up onto the roof of the carriage, his blonde waves now disheveled and his grin flattened into a firm line. "Plow through, Elijah! Give us enough speed and we might just coast through!"

Elijah turned to look up at his companion. "Are you fucking insane, Bax? That's not how water and horse-drawn carriages work!"

Suddenly, an eerie, bright glow emanated from the coffin. The geometric shapes and star symbols turned near molten and the lid exploded off of its hinges in a trail of smoke.

Adelaide and Bax both flattened themselves into their respective positions, with Adelaide tucking herself back into the cabin of the carriage. Behind them, the thrown lid of the coffin landed squarely upon one of the constructs, crushing it into the stonework of the road.

The horses panicked and sped up, their ears flattened and their tails raised. The flooded bank of the river was now an inevitable destination.

Baxter turned to look at the coffin as a slender, pale hand and arm rose from the billowing smoke. Each finger was adorned with sleeves of silver claws, and the blue glow thought to have come from the coffin was actually originating from the very visible veins underneath the skin of the person inside.

Time slowed before Baxter. The roaring of the river dulled and muddied itself with the cries of the horses and the shouts of his crew. The clanking of the hound's feet striking the road became a backdrop of shrill drums to the figure that slowly stood up in the coffin.

It was a woman - a very alive woman - with waist-length ice-blue hair and glowing white eyes. She was dressed in nothing but a billowing white shift and a wool cardigan. Her clothes flapped feverishly around her as she began to chant.

"Aqua custodite mandatum meum!"

The river quaked and leapt from the confines of its banks, springing to life to part before the carriage as it plowed through the mud and clay of the riverbed.

Baxter's crew watched wide-eyed as - as quickly as it had parted - the river slammed back down, sweeping away the remaining artificer hounds that had been unlucky enough to still be alive.

The woman's glow subsided, and her eyes gently fell shut. She swayed, about to topple off the back of the coffin until Baxter jumped down and caught her, holding her gingerly in his arms.

Adelaide came to the rear of the carriage, shock and fear haunting her expression. "Bax...you said the Queen was dead."

Baxter, holding the Queen of the realm in his arms, had no explanation for the miracle that had just occurred.

"She was, Adie, she was."