The Walker

Daisy’s mouth fell open. When they had entered the tunnel the sun had been sinking, casting an orange glow from the horizon. She had expected it to be the dark of night on the other side, but she had come out blinking, mouth agape.

Everywhere seemed to be illuminated; there were lights on poles lining the streets, lights on buildings, twinkling in the sky high above them. Even the streets were glowing, with the same, rhythmic pulse that she had seen on the walls and in the tunnel. The only lights they had had back home were lamps, usually paraffin, which eked a sullen amber glow that only darkened the shadows in the corners of rooms. Walker had begun to explain that the city used the sun and the river for power, but had lost interest, leaving it unfinished.

One of the birds she had seen earlier roared overhead and hovered. She could see that it was made of some kind of metal, as she’d thought, heat pouring from engines that glowed red. Walker had looked up at it and pulled his hat down, hunching his shoulders away from the tunnel of wind being sent from its engines as it took off, wheeling away into the sky amongst the towering buildings above her.

He lurked a little way ahead of her now, furtively discussing something with a man wearing the strangest head gear she had ever seen.

One of the man’s eyes was covered with what she could only imagine was glass. She could see writing pouring itself over the screen, then erasing itself as new writing appeared. The glass eye was attached, via a little arm, to a silver-blue band that went over the man’s head from ear to ear. He noticed her watching, and glared at her.

“What are you staring at, huh?”

Daisy flicked her visor up, better to glare back at the little man, “Just admiring your headband.”

The man spluttered indignantly, “It’s not a headband, it’s an optical input—“

Walker cut him off by gently cuffing his cheek with one gauntleted hand. The man’s scathing glower was replaced with an expression of mild shock, and he turned back to Walker. Eventually Walker straightened up, and gave the man some paper. He turned and scuttled away, peering back over his shoulder every now and then.

“Come on,” he grunted.

They walked a little way before she asked him. “What treasure did you give him this time, then? More musical sheets? Or a recipe for really good alcohol made from, oh, I don’t know, potatoes?”

He looked at her as they walked, and replied, “Vodka. It’s called vodka.”

She was confused. “What is? What you gave him?”

He stopped and laughed. “You really don’t know anything, do you? Vodka is a drink.”

Walker was making fun of her again. Annoyed, she started walking faster. He fell in beside her, and continued, “I gave him money. Old fashioned money.”

She was curious, despite herself, “Paper money? Come on, be serious. How is it worth anything?”

He laughed again, “Very good question girl, how indeed?”

There it was again. The laugh. And he still wouldn’t use her name. She seethed quietly. She would walk ahead, sod him. She looked around her as she stormed off, trying to forget him and taking in the sights. Everything in the city was amazing, outweighing her annoyance, but she was already becoming quite overwhelmed.

The brightness was no longer causing her to squint at everything, but the noise was deafening. There seemed to be people everywhere, casting a deafening roaring umbrella around them like some horrible weapon. Food stall owners bellowed about their wares as people walked to and fro, jostling one another and arguing. A sudden gust of laughter drew her attention, and she found herself looking into an inn, full to bursting with drinkers.

A drinking establishment full with drinkers is not in itself an odd thing, but Daisy found herself perplexed by the sight before her.

She could see straight in to the inn, as if there were no walls. Lights shone sharply at random intervals, floating unexplained in front of the patrons, none of whom seemed the slightest bit worried. She walked towards the room, watching bemused as the lights danced and played.

There was a finely carved bar of wood, a man stood behind it pouring softly coloured drinks into elegant, intricate glasses. The customers laughed, sipping and smiling. Daisy stepped closer, meaning to further examine the clothes they wore in the city and—

There was a crack as Daisy hit her head, knocking her back, where she bumped heavily into a man hurrying behind her.

“Watch it, you idiot!” he cursed, pushing her away and hurrying on again.

It was glass! The inn was made of glass! And she had walked headfirst into it. The people inside were now laughing at her; she spun away into the crowd, face reddening. She flicked her visor down, to hide from their leering faces.

Her face continued to bloom red, her cheeks flushing with hot shame as she pushed through the crush of people.

The floating lights had been reflections. She’d seen glass before, and it was practically everywhere in this place. Even the people had glass, in their visors, on those little eyes-on-a-stick headbands she had seen. She was furious at herself. An idiot, clumsy, stupid...

Lost.

Walker had obviously carried on, oblivious or uncaring. She looked about, panicking. How could he leave her? What would she do now? She knew no one! Daisy looked about her, at the people as they streamed past. None of them looked particularly helpful. Someone bumped into her.

“Hey, watch wh—“she got bumped again, and nearly fell. Daisy looked about desperately, seeking refuge.

She finally found something, an opening between the buildings. She pushed and squirmed her way towards the darkness of the alley, eventually bursting free of the crowd, half running, half falling to freedom.

She stood, slowly getting her breath back. Okay, she thought, don’t panic. Just think like Walker.

She stopped, and realised she didn’t know how to think like him; she didn’t actually know the man at all. Panic threatened to overwhelm her, when a voice skulked from the shadows of the alley behind her.

“When you don’t know where you’re going, can you still get lost?”

She wheeled about, and saw nothing. There was a rattle further down the alley, but it was too dark for her to see anything; in this city of lights it was just her luck to find the only bloody dark spot.

“If a ship has no destination...” drawled the voice, “Then no wind is favourable”.

Stay calm, she thought. “Come out then,” she said aloud. Her voice sounded empty and high against the rumble of the city behind her.

Silence.

She swallowed, and took a breath, stilling her nerves. “I am a bit lost, actually,” she conceded.

There was a grating noise from the dark that could’ve been a chuckle. A large, smooth egg loomed from the gloom. The egg appeared to be wearing a visor, much like hers, and seemed to be attached to a neck. The rest of the man appeared, and Daisy took a step back.

It wasn’t that the man was deformed; he was viciously skeletal; his ribs stuck out painfully, marked sharply by the faded baby blue body suit hanging about his gaunt frame. His head, looking all the more massive due to the thinness of his body, was almost entirely encased in a helmet of some sort, with only his mouth and jaw extending pointedly from the curved helmet. The visor was thick and stood out from the helmet by some way, and was jet black. Daisy found herself wondering how the man could see, when he spoke.

“A lost little flower in the grime of the big city. Do you know what a cliché is?”

Daisy was confused. He sounded less hoarse than before, and happier. “What are you talking about?”

The helmet ignored her, and a long, thin arm rose, waggling a bony finger at her. “You know not the danger you place yourself in. Such a silly child.”

He grated again, Daisy felt sure she saw dust come from the creature’s mouth. “Hey, watch your tone,” Daisy said, indignation overriding her confusion and fear. “Who do you think you are anyw—“

This time he broke in, mewling forlornly again like he had when he first spied her from the shadows.

“Forgive me. My reality becomes... confused at times. It’s the helmet, gone a bit funny.”

She heard the grating noise again. He must be coughing. No one laughs like that.

Daisy ran her hands through her hair. “Okay, don’t worry. Look, I’m lost; I need to know where someone would go, to look for...”

She trailed off, she still didn’t know what they were doing out here, in the city. The man interrupted.

“Look, come here and help me. I can’t reach round the helmet here; I’m so addled and fuddled.”

He held his hands out, imploring and pathetic, “There’s a switch, at the back; should help with my... problems” The last word blurted out, as though it had been difficult for him to say.

She eyed him carefully, knowing she had little choice but to do as this horrible thing said. She couldn’t go into the street; no one would even look at her, let alone tell her where she had to go. She moved closer to him.

“Oh, thank you miss, you won’t regret it. Ole Rifty’ll have something nice for you, after.”

She stopped. That didn’t sound quite right. “What do you mean?”

The man didn’t reply. She stepped back, watching him. The man had gone quite still. She waved a hand in front of his visor. Drool was coming from one corner of his mouth.

“Hey? Hello?” she groaned. “Don’t be dead,” she pleaded, “I need to find out where—“

There was a dry, familiar chuckle from behind her. “He’s gone, girl.”

She spun around as Walker strolled down the alleyway towards her. “Walker! Thank God!”

He smirked at her, then bent to examine the old man. “Do you even know who God was?”

She ignored him. “Where did you go? You just left me, I could’ve—“

He looked at her sharply, “Stop,” he warned. “Just pay attention next time.” He paused, smirking, “How’s your head?”

She blushed, all praise and thanks forgotten. She scowled at the back of his head as he clucked disapprovingly and prodded the man, who stayed stiff as a board and toppled ponderously backwards, scattering rubbish as he landed.

Walker straightened up, seemingly satisfied. “Come on then. We’ve got to get moving, we’re meeting someone.”

He strode past her out of the alley and turned left. She hurried to keep up as they merged once again with the faceless, laughing crowds of the city.