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；　or　both。
　　Kaufman　wasn't　as　naive　as　he'd　been　an　hour　before。　Could　there　be　any　doubt　as　to　the　intention　these　things　had；　ing　out　of　the　blackness　towards　the　train？　The　Butcher　had　slaughtered　the　men　and　women　as　meat　for　these　cannibals；　they　were　ing；　like　diners　at　the　dinner…gong；　to　eat　in　this　restaurant　car。
　　Kaufman　bent　down　and　picked　up　the　cleaver　the　Butcher　had　dropped。　The　noise　of　the　creatures〃　approach　was　louder　every　moment。　He　backed　down　the　car　away　from　the　open　doors；　only　to　find　that　the　doors　behind　him　were　also　open；　and　there　was　the　whisper　of　approach　there　too。
　　He　shrank　back　against　one　of　the　seats；　and　was　about　to　take　refuge　under　them　when　a　hand；　thin　and　frail　to　the　point　of　transparency　appeared　around　the　door。
　　He　could　not　look　away。　Not　that　terror　froze　him　as　it　had　at　the　window。　He　simply　wanted　to　watch。
　　The　creature　stepped　into　the　car。　The　torches　behind　it　threw　its　face　into　shadow；　but　its　outline　could　be　clearly　seen。
　　There　was　nothing　very　remarkable　about　it。
　　It　had　two　arms　and　two　legs　as　he　did；　its　head　was　not　abnormally　shaped。　The　body　was　small；　and　the　effort　of　climbing　into　the　train　made　its　breath　coarse。　It　seemed　more　geriatric　than　psychotic；　generations　of　fictional　man…eaters　had　not　prepared　him　for　its　distressing　vulnerability。
　　Behind　it；　similar　creatures　were　appearing　out　of　the　darkness；　shuffling　into　the　train。　In　fact　they　were　ing　in　at　every　door。
　　Kaufman　was　trapped。　He　weighed　the　cleaver　in　his　hands；　getting　the　balance　of　it；　ready　for　the　battle　with　these　antique　monsters。　A　torch　had　been　brought　into　the　car；　and　it　illuminated　the　faces　of　the　leaders。
　　They　were　pletely　bald。　The　tired　flesh　of　their　faces　was　pulled　tight　over　their　skulls；　so　that　it　shone　with　tension。　There　were　stains　of　decay　and　disease　on　their　skin；　and　in　places　the　muscle　had　withered　to　a　black　pus；　through　which　the　bone　of　cheek　or　temple　was　showing。　Some　of　them　were　naked　as　babies；　their　pulpy；　syphilitic　bodies　scarcely　sexed。　What　had　been　breasts　were　leathery　bags　hanging　off　the　torso；　the　genitalia　shrunken　away。
　　Worse　sights　than　the　naked　amongst　them　were　those　who　wore　a　veil　of　clothes。　It　soon　dawned　on　Kaufman　that　the　rotting　fabric　slung　around　their　shoulders；　or　knotted　about　their　midriffs　was　made　of　human　skins。　Not　one；　but　a　dozen　or　more；　heaped　haphazardly　on　top　of　each　other；　like　pathetic　trophies。
　　The　leaders　of　this　grotesque　meal…line　had　reached　the　bodies　now；　and　the　gracile　hands　were　laid　upon　the　shanks　of　meat；　and　were　running　up　and　down　the　shaved　flesh　in　a　manner　that　suggested　sensual　pleasure。　Tongues　were　dancing　out　of　mouths；　flecks　of　spittle　landing　on　the　meat。　The　eyes　of　the　monsters　were　flickering　back　and　forth　with　hunger　and　excitement。
　　Eventually　one　of　them　saw　Kaufman。
　　Its　eyes　stopped　flickering　for　a　moment；　and　fixed　on　him。　A　look　of　enquiry　came　over　the　face；　making　a　parody　of　puzzlement。
　　〃You；〃　it　said。　The　voice　was　as　wasted　as　the　lips　it　came　from。
　　Kaufman　raised　the　cleaver　a　little；　calculating　his　chances。　There　were　perhaps　thirty　of　them　in　the　car　and　many　more　outside。　But　they　looked　so　weak；　and　they　had　no　weapons；　but　their　skin　and　bones。
　　The　monster　spoke　again；　its　voice　quite　well　modulated；　when　it　found　itself；　the　piping　of　a　once…cultured；　once…charming　man。
　　〃You　came　after　the　other；　yes？〃　It　glanced　down　at　the　body　of　Mahogany。　It　had　clearly　taken　in　the　situation　very　quickly。
　　〃Old　anyway；〃　it　said；　its　watery　eyes　back　on　Kaufman；　studying　him　with　care。
　　〃Fuck　you；〃　said　Kaufman。
　　The　creature　attempted　a　wry　smile；　but　it　had　almost　forgotten　the　technique　and　the　result　was　a　grimace　which　exposed　a　mouthful　of　teeth　that　had　been　systematically　filed　into　points。
　　〃You　must　now　do　this　for　us；〃　it　said　through　the　bestial　grin。
　　〃We　cannot　survive　without　food。〃　The　hand　patted　the　rump　of　human　flesh。　Kaufman　had　no　reply　to　the　idea。　He　just　stared　in　disgust　as　the　fingernails　slid　between　the　cleft　in　the　buttocks；　feeling　the　swell　of　tender　muscle。
　　〃It　disgusts　us　no　less　than　you；〃　said　the　creature。　〃But　we're　bound　to　eat　this　meat；　or　we　die。　God　knows；　I　have　no　appetite　for　it。〃　The　thing　was　drooling　nevertheless。
　　Kaufman　found　his　voice。　It　was　small；　more　with　a　confusion　of　feelings　than　with　fear。
　　〃What　are　you？〃　He　remembered　the　bearded　man　in　the　Deli。
　　〃Are　you　accidents　of　some　kind？〃
　　〃We　are　the　City　fathers；〃　the　thing　said。　〃And　mothers；　and　daughters　and　sons。　The　builders；　the　law…makers。　We　made　this　city。〃
　　〃New　York？〃　said　Kaufman。　The　Palace　of　Delights？　〃Before　you　were　born；　before　anyone　living　was　born。〃　As　it　spoke　the　creature's　fingernails　were　running　up　under　the　skin　of　the　split　body；　and　were　peeling　the　thin　elastic　layer　off　the　luscious　brawn。　Behind　Kaufman；　the　other　creatures　had　begun　to　unhook　the　bodies　from　the　straps；　their　hands　laid　in　that　same　delighting　manner　on　the　smooth　breasts　and　flanks　of　flesh。　These　too　had　begun　skinning　the　meat。
　　〃You　will　bring　us　more；〃　the　father　said。　〃More　meat　for　us。　The　other　one　was　weak。〃　Kaufman　stared　in　disbelief。
　　〃Me？〃　he　said。　〃Feed　you？　What　do　you　think　I　am？〃
　　〃You　must　do　it　for　us；　and　for　those　older　than　us。　For　those　born　before　the　city　was　thought　of；　when　America　was　a　timberland　and　desert。〃　The　fragile　hand　gestured　out　of　the　train。
　　Kaufman's　gaze　followed　the　pointing　finger　into　the　gloom。　There　was　something　else　outside　the　train　which　he'd　failed　to　see　before；　much　bigger　than　anything　human。
　　The　pack　of　creatures　parted　to　let　Kaufman　through　so　that　he　could　inspect　more　closely　whatever　it　was　that　stood　outside；　but　his　feet　would　not　move。
　　〃Go　on；〃　said　the　father。
　　Kaufman　thought　of　the　city　he'd　loved。　Were　these　really　its　ancients；　its　philosophers；　its　creators？　He　had　to　believe　it。　Perhaps　there　were　people　on　the　surface…bureaucrats；　politicians；　authorities　of　every　kind…who　knew　this　horrible　secret　and　whose　lives　were　dedicated　to　preserving　these　abominations；　feeding　them；　as　savages　feed　lambs　to　their　gods。　There　was　a　horrible　familiarity　about　this　ritual。　It　rang　a　bell…not　in　Kaufman's　conscious　mind；　but　in　his　deeper；　older　self。
　　His　feet；　no　longer　obeying　his　mind；　but　his　instinct　to　worship；　moved。　He　walked　through　the　corridor　of　bodies　and　stepped　out　of　the　train。
　　The　light　of　the　torches　scarcely　began　to　illuminate　the　limitless　darkness　outside。　The　air　seemed　solid；　it　was　so　thick　with　the　smell　of　ancient　earth。　But　Kaufman　smelt　nothing。　His　head　bowed；　it　was　all　he　could　do　to　prevent　himself　from　fainting　again。
　　It　was　there；　the　precursor　of　man。　The　original　American；　whose　homeland　this　was　before　Passamaquoddy　or　Cheyenne。　Its　eyes；　if　it　had　eyes；　were　on　him。
　　His　body　shook。　His　teeth　chattered。
　　He　could　hear　the　noise　of　its　anatomy：　ticking；　crackling；　sobbing。
　　It　shifted　a　little　in　the　dark。
　　The　sound　of　its　movement　was　awesome。　Like　a　mountain　sitting　up。
　　Kaufman's　face　was　raised　to　it；　and　without　thinking　about　what　he　was　doing　or　why；　he　fell　to　his　knees　in　the　shit　in　front　of　the　Father　of　Fathers。
　　Every　day　of　his　life　had　been　leading　to　this　day；　every　moment　quickening　to　this　incalculable　moment　of　holy　terror。
　　Had　there　been　sufficient　light　in　that　pit　to　see　the　whole；　perhaps　his　tepid　heart　would　have　burst。　As　it　was　he　felt　it　flutter　in　his　chest　as　he　saw　what　he　saw。
　　It　was　a　giant。　Without　head　or　limb。　Without　a　feature　that　was　analogous　to　human；　without　an　organ　that　made　sense；　or　senses。　If　it　was　like　anything；　it　was　like　a　shoal　of　fish。　A　thousand　snouts　all　moving　in　unison；　budding；　blossoming　and　withering　rhythmically。　It　was　iridescent；　like　mother　of　pearl；　but　it　was　sometimes　deeper　than　any　colour　Kaufman　knew；　or　could　put　a　name　to。
　　That　was　all　Kaufman　could　see；　and　it　was　more　than　he　wanted　to　see。　There　was　much　more　in　the　darkness；　flickering　and　flapping。
　　But　he　could　look　no　longer。　He　turned　away；　and　as　he　did　so　a　football　was　pitched　out　of　the　train　and　rolled　to　a　halt　in　front　of　the　Father。
　　At　least　he　thought　it　was　a　football；　until　he　peered　more　attentively　at　it；　and　recognized　it　as　a　human　head；　the　head　of　the　Butcher。　The　skin　of　the　face　had　been　peeled　off　in　strips。　It　glistened　with　blood　as　it　lay　in　front　of　its　Lord。
　　Kaufman　looked　away；　and　walked　back　to　the　train。　Every　part　of　his　body　seemed　to　be　weeping　but　his　eyes。　They　were　too　hot　with　the　sight　behind　him；　they　boiled　his　tears　away。
　　Inside；　the　creatures　had　already　set　about　their　supper。　One；　he　saw；　was　plucking　the　blue　sweet　morsel　of　a　woman's　eye　out　of　the　socket。　Another　had　a　hand　in　its　mouth。　At　Kaufman's　feet　lay　the　Butcher's　headless　corpse；　still　bleeding　profusely　from　where　its　neck　had　been　bitten　through。
　　The　little　father　who　had　spoken　earlier　stood　in　front　of　Kaufman。
　　〃Serve　us？〃　it　asked；　gently；　as　you　might　ask　a　cow　to　follow　you。
　　Kaufman　was　s