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A great painting of a strange alien jungle suddenly came alive and formed a window into that world. Terrible shrieks and cries came clearly to us, along with a gusting wind that stank of carrion. And through this newly opened gateway to another world, a whole cloud of ugly flying things burst into the bar; dark, hairy shapes with flapping batwings, glaring eyes, and huge, snapping teeth. They shot back and forth in the confined space, biting fiercely at everything in reach. There was chaos in the bar as everyone defended themselves as best they could.
Suzie Shooter opened fire with casual skill, her shotgun blasting the nasty flappy things out of mid air one after the other, never missing once; but still more and more came flooding through the open doorway. The Club Members fought the flying horrors with all kinds of weapons, and even their bare hands, but the growing numbers came close to overwhelming them. Augusta struck about her with her walking-stick, while loudly singing a psalm, and blood and bat brains flew on the air as she co
Janissary Jane and Chandra Singh came rushing in. Jane had an energy gun in each hand, and shot the flying horrors out of the air with deadly speed and skill. Chandra had a long, curved sword, and danced amongst the swarming creatures, cutting them out of mid air with swift graceful strokes that were a work of art. Blood flew on the air as he worked his way into the very centre of the mayhem, gri
A batwinged nightmare bigger than all the rest came sweeping in out of nowhere and snapped its jaws shut on Suzie’s shoulder. She didn’t even flinch, but kept on firing. The teeth worked fiercely, gnawing into the black leather. I grabbed the thing with both hands and tore it away from her shoulder. The leather was torn, but I didn’t see any blood. The thing struggled in my hands, its wings flapping fiercely, struggling to turn itself round so it could get at my fingers. I crushed it, my fingers sinking deep into its hairy body. It exploded in blood and bits, and died still trying to bite me.
I threw the bloody mess aside, and only then realised I’d dropped my chaos dice to help Suzie. I wasn’t protected any more. Except by my gift. I sheltered behind Suzie as I concentrated on opening my i
The Club Members made short shrift of the remaining flapping things, and the suit of armour and the potted plant, and all the other problems . . . then everything was quiet in the bar again, apart from the muffled curses of heroes and adventurers checking their wounds and trying to get their breath back. The floor was a mess of dead flappy things, with blood and hair and organs pulped into the rich carpet. One by one, we all turned to look at Bulldog Hammond.
He gulped hard and turned off his force shield. He then raised both hands high above his head and turned to me.
“Mr. Taylor, sir! I really would like to surrender now please. Oh yes and very definitely. Haul me off to jail I’ll go quietly please don’t let them kill me.”
“People could have died here,” I said.
“I know and I’m really very very sorry! It’s all their fault for having so many nice and desirable things and for tempting such a weak-spirited soul as me and why is that large woman glaring at me like that?”
“I’ve got bat blood on my best suit!” snapped Augusta, brandishing her walking-stick. Blood and brains dripped off the end. “I know dry-cleaning isn’t going to get it out! Come here and take your medicine, you appalling little man.”
“I don’t think I will if that’s all right with everyone,” said Bulldog.
“The rings, Bulldog,” I said firmly. “Hand them over. You can’t be trusted with them.”
“But without them I won’t be a master criminal any more!”
“You insist on hanging on to them, and you’ll end up as one more bloody mess on the carpet.”
“I see your point,” said Bulldog. And he quickly stripped the rings from his fingers and dropped them on to my waiting open palm. I hefted them thoughtfully, then slipped them into my coat pocket.
“Very good,” I said. “Now go and sit quietly in that corner, and wait here till Walker comes to collect you.”
“You really think we’re going to let that little snot get away with this?” said Augusta.
Several other Club Members made noises of agreement. I looked around me, taking my time. “He’s just a small man who made a big mistake. It’s over. Let it go.”
“Why should we?” said Sebastian Stargrave in his quiet, deadly way.
“Because he’s under my protection,” I said. “Anyone here have a problem with that?”
No-one said anything. And then, one by one, they turned away and set about clearing up the mess. Because while they were all quite definitely heroes and adventurers...I was John Taylor; and you never knew. Bulldog went off to sit in the corner, Suzie put her shotgun away, and I retrieved my chaos dice from the blood-soaked carpet. Augusta Moon and Sebastian Stargrave ostentatiously turned their backs on me and drifted off together. Janissary Jane stood before the jungle painting, studying it thoughtfully. And Chandra Singh came forward, cleaning his long blade with a length of silk.
He nodded easily to me, extremely white teeth flashing in his great black beard. “Good to meet you at last, Mr. Taylor. I know you by reputation, of course, and I am pleased to discover it is not exaggerated.” He turned his smile on Suzie and actually beamed broadly at her. “Miss Suzie, a pleasure to make your acquaintance again.”
And to my surprise, Suzie actually smiled briefly at him. “Chandra. Killed any good monsters recently?”
He laughed, a rich and carefree sound. “I have been to many places in the world, and seen many monstrous things. Some I had no choice but to kill; some I captured to protect i
“You two know each other?” I said, trying to keep it casual.
“I watched his back, on a few hunts,” said Suzie. “I was his native guide in the Nightside.”
“Miss Suzie is a most excellent shot,” said Chandra. “We worked well together. And I am hoping that you and I will also be able to work together, Mr. Taylor. You have been summoned here to hunt the Walking Man, am I not correct?”
“Could be,” I said. “How would that concern you? I thought you only hunted monsters.”
Chandra Singh nodded soberly. “Such has been my calling for many years, yes. I am a Sikh, Mr. Taylor, from the Punjab. I am what my people call a khalsa, or holy warrior. I stand against the forces of darkness, in all their forms. Does that perhaps remind you of anyone?”
“The Walking Man,” I said. “Both of you serve your god in violent ways.”
“Exactly, Mr. Taylor. I feel a great need to meet this Walking Man, and talk with him, and discover if he is indeed what they say he is.”
“And if he is?” I said.
Chandra smiled his great smile again. “Then perhaps I shall sit at his feet and learn wisdom. But I think that unlikely. If he has done even some of the things they say he has, he would seem to be as much a servant of the dark as the light. And I will oppose him to my last breath. So, I ask your permission to accompany you and Miss Suzie as you track him down.”