Planet Purgatory by Benedict Martin

watch until you’re safely inside. Once you’re there, find Tag Eno. That’s my dad. Tell him David sent you. He’ll know what to do ”
    “Tag Eno …”
    “It’s short for Taggart. He’s a good man. He’ll take care of you. And whatever you do, don’t talk to the old man in the wagon.”
    “Why?”
    “Just avoid him. Don’t even look at him. Now, hurry. I have to go.”
    Jackie took a deep breath and walked into Harkness, turning to look at me a couple of times before dissolving into the twilight. I knew my dad would keep her safe. He loved my first wife. In fact, he was more heartbroken over our divorce than I was. One look at this woman, and I was confident he would use all his wily Eno powers to keep her from being swept up by the maelstrom Bill’s appearance had created.
    And so with the newest soul in Purgatory in Harkness, I started out once more for the mysterious SYS building.

Chapter 6
    I must have passed half a dozen huts like Jackie’s over the course of the next few hours. None of them were inhabited, and as evening approached, I decided the next one I saw I would settle down in for the night. It’s funny how things work, because it wasn’t much later that I came across a cute little cottage, complete with a white picket fence and cords of firewood stacked neatly against the wall. Not only that, but there was a plume of smoke rising from the chimney.
    My heart raced. “There’s someone home, Rosie!”
    Yet as enticing as the thought of spending the night in the company of others was, there was something about the cottage that gave me pause. I didn’t know why. It looked so warm and inviting, especially amid the deepening gloom of the evening, but there was a part of me that thought I should keep walking. Adding to my turmoil was the appearance of a demon on the roof directly above the entrance. It swooped down from the trees, peering down at me as if to say, “Move on.”
    I stood there, hoping someone would emerge. When none did, I walked up the front steps and knocked on the front door.
    An old woman answered. She was dressed in a frilly shawl, with her hair pulled up in a giant bun, and the moment she saw me, she erupted into a smile.
    “Oh, my goodness! A visitor.”
    “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve been walking all day, and with nightfall approaching, I was wondering if I could stay here. I won’t be a bother. It’s just me and my dog.”
    I’d barely finished speaking when a hairless ogre in denim overalls appeared behind her. I’d never seen anyone so large. He was easily seven feet tall, with the whitest skin I’d ever come across. He wasn’t simply pale, he was white, like an eggshell, the only color being the bags under his eyes, and he peered down at me, silent, menacing.
    “Of course you can stay,” said the old lady.
    “Are you sure?” I asked, retreating a step. “You probably don’t have much room …”
    “Don’t be silly! There’s plenty of room. It will be nice to have some company for a change. Come in, come in.”
    And so I collected Rosie who was busy sniffing the woodpile. She didn’t want to go inside. In fact the moment she saw our hosts, her hackles went up, and it took everything I had to coax her through the front door.
    The old woman’s face brightened. “What a beautiful animal. Isn’t he beautiful, Reginald?”
    “She’s actually a ‘she.’ Her name’s Rosie.”
    The Eggman watched Rosie intently, his enormous frame taking up nearly the entire front hallway.
    “Why don’t we move into the sitting room?” said the old lady, motioning to a doorway.
    And so I pushed past the overall-wearing ogre into a cozy little room with a fireplace and a window overlooking the road.
    “Is that chikka I smell?”
    I turned around. “Pardon?”
    “In your bag,” said the old lady. “Do you have chikka in there?”
    I glanced at my knapsack hanging off my shoulder. There were four bottles in there. All sealed.
    “Why, yes, I do. How did