They never did anything.
In the night they came, and in the daylight they vanished.
But they never did anything.
They only walked, a solemn promenade marching through Babylon's streets. They only spoke when spoken to, they only stopped when commanded. Otherwise, the heartbeat droned on- step after step, endless from sunset to sunrise.
There were a few who would seem to move with some sort of purpose. These were the ones who had not been miners; the company store manager, the movie-house owner. They would go into their places of occupation, sit behind the counter and up in the projection booth, waiting, sitting silently. They were the only ones who ever stopped.
Indeed, it had not only been miners who'd died in the cave-in. Everyone in Babylon had known Carl Butridge. Everyone in Babylon had rallied for justice to be brought upon his murderer.
Everyone except Lucius.
Carl Butridge hadn't been much of a drinker.
For that reason Lucius had stayed at the back of the group when they set out to find Scudder. For that reason he'd been able to escape the cave-in.
And for that reason he was sitting in the bar, months later, drunk and alone.
For a good few days after that first night, he'd stayed in the bar, too afraid to watch the dead men walk the street. He'd nearly starved, but eventually sense got the better of him and he went to the store- during the day of course- and got himself enough food to last a while.
At night now, he still could not make himself leave the bar, and that meant there were only two things to do: drink or play the piano. And Stangler didn't know too many songs.
There was a knock on the door.
Lucius looked up, confused.
came an unfamiliar voice from beyond the door, Anyone in there? Hello?C'mon Bill, there ain't nobody here, came a different voice.
Well, this is just downright confounding, said the first.
Lucius got up off his seat, made his way to the door and cautiously removed the table he'd been using to hold the marchers out.
He opened the door.
A smart and smug looking man in a blue, worn suit stood across the threshold. He looked at Stangler disapprovingly and shucked his jacket, throwing glances to the people standing beside and behind him.
he said with a lopsided smile, You open?
Lucius, dazed, stepped aside, and let the man in. The man's followers poured in as well: a slew of people sporting all manner of physical disorders, a dozen or so rough-and-tumble looking guys, and even some people who appeared fairly proper and clean.
Stangler shot a glance out the door once the last of the rabble had entered.
The streets of Babylon were empty.
Whisky please, if you don't mind, said the suited man, taking a seat at one of the tables.
Lucius nodded slowly, and went to fetch glass and bottle.
Ain't a lot of folks walkin' the streets at this hour, said an extremely short woman sitting at the suited man's table as Lucius came to pour the drink, Not a sociable bunch, I guess?
Stangler cleared his throat.
he said, and began pouring, What, eh... what brings you folks to Babylon?Well, we're with the carnival, said the suited man.
Stangler's hand slipped; the whisky glass toppled over and he nearly dropped the bottle.
Careful there, son, the suited man admonished Lucius- luckily none had splashed onto him. Yup, we'll be here for a few days.
Lucius nodded, righting and repouring the glass.
I'll have some o' that, if you don't mind, said another customer.
Lucius nodded again, turning back toward the bar.
Within an hour the bar was more lively than it had ever been, even when the miners had been alive. One carnie had taken the piano, and people were dancing, shouting, having fun.
All Stangler could do was sit behind the bar, taking and filling orders, answering as few questions as he could manage.
After a while, he took notice of a figure standing outside the door.
It was James Harker. A miner.
Stangler approached him, and as he did he saw that a great deal of the miners were waiting outside as well- still as statues.
We'd like to come in, said James, which was something that surprised Lucius a great deal- James Harker had never been one to ask anyone's permission for anything.
But all the same, not knowing what to do, Stangler stepped aside.
he said.
And slowly, one by one, about ten of the men- if they could even be called that anymore- stepped into the bar.
After the last one had entered, Stangler turned back to the statues outside. Among them was Davy Baker.
Looks like you finally got that carnival you were waitin' for, said Lucius.
Davy's eyes were dark.
We'll see, he said.
Lucius closed the door.