Just Another Judgement Day

  “Some Walking Men have killed kings,” said Walker. “Some have overturned countries and changed the fate of the world. Others have followed more personal paths, clearing the world of evil one death at a time. Some stick to the shadows, some lead armies; and now one has come to the Nightside.”

  “If some of them have been so important, why don’t I know their names?” I said.

  “You probably do, if you think about it,” said Julien.

  “Ah,” I said. “Like that, is it?”

  “Mostly,” said Julien. “There have never been that many, down the centuries. Perhaps because no normal man would take such a deal, giving up love and friends and everything that makes life worth living.”

  “They’re killers,” said Larry. “Cold-blooded, cold-hearted killers. Judge and jury and executioner. No mercy, no compassion, no pity.”

  “And only he gets to decide what’s evil and what isn’t,” said Count Video. “He doesn’t care what the law has to say. He doesn’t have to. He answers to a higher power.”

  “No shades of grey for the Walking Man,” said Annie. “Only stark black and white, all the way. You can see why so many people in the Nightside might be feeling a tad nervous, now that he’s here.”

  “So as far as he’s concerned, just by being here we’re all guilty,” I said. “I can see why you thought you needed me.” I considered the matter for a while. “What do we know about the current Walking Man?”

  “Nothing,” said Larry Oblivion. “Not even his real name. He’s invulnerable to all forms of remote viewing. We’ve tried science and sorcery, seers and oracles, and computers, gone cap in hand begging answers from important personages on all sides, and no-one knows anything. No-one wants to know anything. They’re all afraid of being . . . noticed. All we know for sure is that he’s on his way here. Hell, he could be here right now, walking our streets, and we wouldn’t know it till the bodies started piling up.”

  “He punishes the guilty,” Jessica Sorrow said quietly. “And so many here are guilty of something.”

  “But . . . if no-one can see him, what makes you so sure he’s coming?” I said.

  “Because he told us,” said Annie.

  “Sent me a very nice handwritten letter,” said Julien. “In my capacity as editor of the Night Times. Advising us of his purpose and intentions, and that he would be here within twenty-four hours. Which time is almost up. He wanted me to publish his letter, so everyone would know he was on his way and could put their affairs in order before he got here. Very considerate of him, I thought.”

  “Yes,” I said. “You would. Are you going to publish his letter?”

  “Of course!” said Julien. “It’s news! But... not just yet. We don’t need a panic. Or people taking advantage of the situation to settle old scores. We’re hoping you can . . . do something, before matters get out of hand.”

  I looked around the table. “What, exactly, do you want me to do?”

  “I would have thought it was obvious,” said Julien. “We want you to find the Walking Man and stop him from bringing death and destruction to the Nightside in general, and us in particular. He was quite clear in his letter that he intends to kill the new Authorities to send a message to the rest of the Nightside.”

  “How am I supposed to stop the wrath of God?” I said. Not unreasonably, I felt.

  Larry Oblivion smiled. “That’s your gift. We’re confident you’ll . . . find a way.”

  I suppose I asked for that. “What’s the fee?” I said.

  “One million pounds,” said Julien. “And...we’ll owe you.”

  I nodded. “Sounds about right.” I looked from face to face. “You’re all powerful people. And you know even more powerful people. Some of them so powerful they aren’t people at all. So why put your faith in me?”

  “Walker recommended you,” said Julien. “And you do have a reputation for winning out against impossible odds.”

  “You of all people should know better than to believe everything you read in the papers,” I said. I sighed, heavily. “All right. But let us be very clear about this. What exactly do you mean, when you say you want me to stop him? Do you mean reason with him, overpower him, or kill him?”

  “You are authorised to use any and all means necessary,” Julien said carefully.

  “Hell, you can try bribing him if you think it’ll do any good,” said Annie. “Do whatever it takes, we’ll clean up the mess afterwards. If you’ve tried being reasonable, and he doesn’t want to know, feel free to stick a gun up his nostrils and blow his bloody head off.”

  “Love to,” said Suzie, and we all looked at her.

  “I’m still worried about the whole unstoppable, invulnerable, wrath of God bit,” I said.

  “This from a man who’s fought angels from Above and Below,” said Larry. “At least, according to him.”

  “I know my limits,” I said, matching him stare for stare. “I can find the Walking Man. I can talk to him. I can use all kinds of tricks to confuse and divert him . . . but after that, your guess is as good as mine. We’re in unknown territory here.”

  “Scared?” said Count Video.

  “Bloody right I’m scared!” I said. “When the angels came here to fight their war over the Unholy Grail, their powers were strictly limited by the nature of the Nightside, and they still killed thousands of people and wrecked the place! And now Walker tells me the Nightside’s nature has changed, and we don’t even have that protection any more. If I had any sense, I’d go home and hide under the bed until this is all over. As it is . . . Look, when we talk about the wrath of God, we should be bearing in mind what happened to Sodom and Gomorrah, two cities destroyed by God for the sinfulness of their inhabitants. And I’ll bet good money they weren’t up to half the stuff that happens here on a regular basis, half price at weekends.”

  “He’s still just a man,” said King of Skin. His voice was deep and rich and irredeemably sleazy. “Every man has his weaknesses.”

  “I’ll be sure to mention that to him,” I said. “From a safe distance. Come on, I’m good, people, but even I can’t go up against the direct will of God. Just saying that out loud is enough to make me nervous of a plague of boils on my nether regions.”

  “You do have a Biblical background,” Julien said carefully. “Your mother was Lilith, first wife to Adam.”

  “Yeah, right—the one who rebelled against God’s authority, got kicked out of Eden, went down to Hell and slept with demons, and gave birth to monsters,” I said. “Really don’t plan on mentioning that connection to the Walking Man, thanks all the same.”

  “It’s only a parable anyway,” said Suzie, unexpectedly. “A simple way to comprehend a much more complex reality.”

  We all looked at her for a moment. Suzie can always surprise you.

  “Jessica Sorrow,” I said. “The Unbeliever...It seems to me that you’re the only one here with a strength of belief, or rather unbelief, to match the Walking Man. Maybe if we put the two of you together, you’d . . . equal out.”

  “That was then,” said Jessica, fixing me with her deep, dark, unblinking eyes. “I’m much better now.”

  There was a certain amount of uncomfortable shifting about in the room, as everyone disagreed vehemently without actually saying anything.

  “We’re saving Jessica as our last resort,” said Julien. “Our most dangerous weapon.”

  “Damn,” said Suzie. “I thought that was me.”

  Julien flashed her a sympathetic smile, then gave me his best grave and concerned look. “It has to be you, John. You’re the only one we can trust to do this.”

  “You keep saying that,” I said. “I’m still not convinced.”

  “I still don’t get this,” Suzie said stubbornly. “I mean, God’s wrath, fast and strong, yes, get all that. But what does he actually do?”

  “Anything he wants,” said Walker. “He’s as strong as he needs to be, and as fast. He can kill with any weapon, or with his bare hands. No do
or can keep him out, no argument can turn him aside, and nothing in science or magic can protect you from him.”

  “Yeah,” said Suzie. “But is he bullet-proof?”

  “As long as he walks in Heaven’s path, nothing in this world can touch him,” said Julien.

  “Even blessed or cursed bullets, with crosses carved in the end?” said Suzie.

  “He wouldn’t even blink,” said Walker.

  Suzie smiled suddenly. “Then I guess I’ll have to try harder.”

  “I’ve just had a cunning and downright disturbing thought,” I said. “If the nature of the Nightside has changed, could we perhaps contact the Opposition, and have them send one of their agents to take on the Walking Man?”

  “Let’s you and him fight,” said Count Video. “I like it.”

  “Are you crazy?” said Julien. “Two Walking Men, going head to head in the Nightside? Remember how much damage the angels did? We’re still rebuilding!”

  “Well, what about the Street of the Gods?” I said, doggedly. “Isn’t there any Being there who feels strong enough to—”

  “Not one,” said Walker. “The whole Street is discussing moving itself out of phase with the Nightside, until this is all over, and it’s safe for them to return.”

  “There’s always Razor Eddie,” said Suzie.

  There was another silent uncomfortable moment, as everyone considered the implications of that.

  “The Punk God of the Straight Razor has always been a very just man, in his own appalling way,” I said finally. “He might decide to go along with the Walking Man. Eddie’s always practised a zero-tolerance policy where the really bad guys are concerned. In a strictly hands-on, blood and brains all over the walls, sort of way.”

  “I still say we should defend ourselves!” King of Skin said abruptly. “Each of us is a Power, in our own right. We need to show the Nightside that we are a force to be reckoned with! We don’t need to hide behind the likes of John Taylor. We should go abroad now, in all our awful glory, and grind this Walking Man beneath our feet!”

  “No!” Julien Advent said firmly. “This is no time to be proud! We can’t stop him. Not alone, or all together. He is the wrath of God in the world of men. There is no greater Power upon the Earth today! Our only hope is that John can out-think or out-manoeuvre him.”

  “We’re doomed . . .” said Count Video.

  “Hold everything,” I said. “Are we missing the obvious here? Why not send Walker? He can use his Voice on the Walking Man and command him to leave the Nightside and never come back.”

  “Wouldn’t work,” said Walker. “My Voice derives its authority from that original Voice, that said Let there be light. I doubt it would have any effect on one who is a lot closer to the source of that Voice than I will ever be.”

  We waited, but that was all he had to say. Trust Walker to give you an answer that left you with more questions than you started with. Another thought occurred to me, and I looked hard at Walker.

  “It’s just like old times, this, isn’t it? You recommended me for this job because I’m expendable. If I can stop the Walking Man, fine. If I can’t, you’ll have learned something from the encounter you can use to brief the next poor fool you send after him. You haven’t changed a bit, Walker.”

  “I’d go myself if I could,” said Walker. “But I can’t stop him. At least you’ve got a fighting chance. And if he should kill you, John, I will find a way to make him pay.”

  “How very reassuring,” I said. “You didn’t have to bother with the emotional manipulation, you know. I would have done this anyway.”

  “John, I didn’t—”

  “Not now, Walker,” I said. “Not now.”

  I fired up my gift, concentrating on my inner eye, opening it wide so that my Sight soared high above the Nightside. Bright lights shone amongst dark buildings, and hot neon blazed like bale-fires in the night that never ends. The streets turned slowly under me as I searched, until I spotted one single spark that shone so much more brightly than all the others. I plunged down, closing in on my target, until finally I found him, the Walking Man, strolling down a main street with laughter on his lips and cold, cold death in his eyes. And then he stopped, and turned, and looked right at me.

  “Well hello there! Come and find me, John Taylor. Before I find you.”

  FOUR

  Justice, for All

  I have been hated and feared, loved and adored, but being looked on with sheer naked jealousy was a whole new experience to me. I decided to enjoy it while it lasted. It seemed like half the Membership of the Adventurers Club had crowded into the bar to watch Suzie and me descend the stairs from our meeting with the new Authorities. Some were trying to look without being seen to be looking, some just happened to be glancing in our direction, but most were glaring right at us with stares that could have punched holes through an elephant. I could see jealousy, curiosity, intrigue, and barely suppressed fury in the famous faces turned in our direction, and I loved every moment of it. All these heroes and adventurers, with their magnificent histories and legends, but it was Suzie and me who got to meet with the new Authorities first.

  It should have been me, all the faces said, and I gloried in it.

  I bestowed upon them all my most cheerful and enigmatic smile and walked through the bar without saying a single word. Let them wonder, let them marvel . . . I was the man on the spot, and they weren’t. It’s the little victories that keep me going. Suzie, as usual, gave no indication of giving a damn what anyone thought of her, good or bad. In fact, it was entirely possible she hadn’t noticed any of the jealousy around her. Such small things were beneath her.

  Walker followed us through the Club, and out on to the street again, also without saying a word to anyone. But then, Walker never says anything without a purpose. I like to think he escorted us out as a mark of respect, and not because he was afraid we might take offence and start something.

  Outside in the street, leaning quite casually against the Club’s oversized Doorman, Chandra Singh was waiting for us. He favoured us all with his great flashing smile and came forward, his every movement as smooth and lithe as a jungle cat scenting a kill.

  “I trust your meeting with our new Authorities went well, Mr. Taylor, and that you are now fully empowered to track down the infamous Walking Man.”

  Walker sighed. “You really cannot keep a secret in this place . . .”

  “You still want to help out on this?” I said to Chandra. “Knowing how dangerous the Walking Man can be?”

  “Of course!” Chandra said happily. “I love a good hunt.”

  I considered him thoughtfully. Chandra Singh had an excellent reputation as a tracker, fighter, and holy terror in trouble spots all over the world, and I could certainly use his expertise. But I had to wonder if his motives were quite as clear-cut as he made out. Whether he only wanted in on this . . . for a chance to go head to head with the Walking Man to test his faith, one holy warrior against another.

  What the hell, I could always use a good stalking horse. And someone big to hide behind. Suzie and I could always throw him to the wolves if necessary.

  “All right,” I said. “You’re in. Try not to get in our way.”

  Chandra laughed. “No, Mr. Taylor, you must try to keep out of mine.”

  “Men,” said Suzie. “Why don’t you just get them out and measure them?”

  Walker started talking over her before she’d even finished. He’d always had problems with Suzie’s directness.

  “You found the Walking Man with your gift, John. Can you tell us what he looked like? Most people only ever get to see the Walking Man if they’re about to die at his hands, which makes it very difficult to get a clear description.”

  Suzie and Chandra looked at me curiously, too, so I thought about it. “He’s tall and lean,” I said finally. “And he swaggered down the street like he owned it. He wore a long duster coat, earth brown, battered and worn as though through long exposure to the elements.
I couldn’t tell you how old he is; he had a blunt, square face, heavily lined, as though life had cut harsh experiences deeply into him. He smiled all the time, a bright, mocking smile, as though all the world was crazy and only he knew why. His eyes . . . looked right through me. As though I was just another obstacle in his path, something to be knocked down and walked over if I got in his way. I’ve lived most of my life in the Nightside, gone head to head with gods and monsters and worse, and I am here to tell you . . . I have never seen anything as scary as that man. So sharp, so intense, so focussed. . . . He looked like every human weakness had been scoured out of him—by life, or death, or maybe even God himself.”