The Walker

Daisy hefted the rock in her hand, as Benny fiddled with something on his wrist. She hadn’t decided if Walker was joking or not when he told her to find the rock, but she felt it’d be better to have it and not need it, than need it and get stabbed in the murky dark of the tunnels.

Walker was sat on his haunches just ahead of her, looking at the cigarette he had rolled. He placed it back into his pocket and looked to Benny, who was muttering.

“What is it?” He asked.

Benny half turned, still focused on whatever was causing him grief. “This thing is telling me that we’ve gone too far, but this one tells me we’ve not gone far enough.” He tapped the square instrument on his wrist, and shook it.

“Fix it, man, we haven’t got all day.”

“Oh, now he gets a sense of urgency.” Benny snorted.

He turned back to his device and dragged over a half rotted crate. He placed the device on it, and started to undo the screws along its back panel.

“This won’t take long. Happens sometimes. It’s the ground above us, blocks the signals.”

Walker grunted and peered over the man’s shoulder, pointing, and the two of them began to discuss what could be wrong with Benny’ machine. Daisy was about to go over and watch, when she was overcome by a strange feeling of being watched.

She quickly turned her head towards the way they’d come, scanning for movement. She saw only water dripping, splashing quietly from the dank ceiling into the pools on the floor, sending ripples outward.

She glanced back at Walker, saw he was still arguing quietly, and decided to check the tunnel behind them. She unclipped her holster, despite what Walker had said about silence, and ventured out.

The lights above her buzzed uninterestedly, flickering occasionally. She could almost taste the slime coating the ancient brickwork. A lone drip landed on her head and ran down her neck, sending chills through her body.

Her hackles rose as she inched forward, and her fingers answered by gripping the rock hard until her knuckles shone white.

After what felt like an age, moving as slowly as she was, she reached the opening of the stretch of tunnel they were in, where it branched off to the left and the right.

She steeled herself and, rock ready, twisted from the corner and into the darkness.

There was nothing.

She quickly turned about to face the second opening, and was relieved when she found nothing. She saw Walker looking back at her, head to one side. She stood straighter and waved an arm at him, to show everything was okay.

It was as she began to head towards the pair ahead of her, still fussing over Benny’s various instruments, that she heard it.

The grating noise.

The chuckle.

She turned again, and the junkie removed himself from the shadows. He still wore his blue robes, but he was grimy with the dirt of the sewers. He had found another helmet, more streamlined, less bulbous. Wires protruded from the back, seemingly entering the junkie’s head and neck. His mouth still leered from under the visor, which was now a deep crimson. He was smiling.

Daisy drew back the rock, ready, “What are you doing here?”

The man frightened her, but not because he was a threat. It was the way he seemed to have no grip, at all. He stood there, teetering in the gloom, the flickering light behind her sending strange shadows dancing across his skeletal frame.

The figure nodded its head, indicating Walker and Benny, still focused solely on the tracking machines. “Still, the blind follow those who cannot see.”

Daisy watched the strange figure before her. He seemed less twitchy now, but still made little sense. She wondered what was going on behind the crimson screen.

“Blind? None of us are blind. It’s you who can’t see. Why are you here?”

There was a rasping sigh and the helmet turned to her, “The lack of foresight, hindsight and insight is,” he drew a sucking breath, “Tiring.” He seemed to rattle as he exhaled. Daisy wasn’t sure if he was laughing or dying, but she took a step back anyway.

“Just tell me why you’re here, or I’ll—” she waved the rock again.

This time the man did notice it, but he only smiled, bearing rank bluish gums at her, the odd tooth protruding like gravestones in mud. “But first she tells me why she is here, for me to have followed? Why are we all here? Finding what has been lost? Or losing what they’ve only just found?” He turned his head to her and stepped forward.

Daisy watched, warily, holding her ground. “Why should I tell you?”

The thing rattled again, “She doesn’t know!”

He rubbed his hands together gleefully as Daisy bristled, “He’s helping me. I’m helping him.”

The helmet bobbed up and down, the neck below threatening to snap under the slight movement. “Help, help is good. But is he helping you? You don’t even know why you are here.”

Another suck of air, “How can there be help if there is nothing to help with?” He leaned forward, but Daisy wouldn’t move back again. She wasn’t afraid of this thing. The helmet twitched, and he grinned again. “The necklace. Skulls always smile.”

Daisy clutched at her necklace, finally caving and moving back again.

This time, the apparition stayed where it was, skeletal grin playing in the dripping light. “Sentiment with a smile,” another rattle.

Daisy was feeling less confident with each passing moment. The idea that this creature should know so much of the two of them, and of what she was thinking, frightened her. “Why do you wear that thing?” she asked him, indicating the helmet, “It’s made you mad.”

The man took a step backwards giggling, waggling a finger knowingly, “We’re all mad here.” He smiled that empty, knowing smile, and rattled a third time at her.

Daisy had had enough. Steeling herself, she darted forward and grabbed the man roughly by the front of his filthy tunic, ignoring the foulness of his breath. “Enough riddles, just get out of here.” She pushed him roughly away, and he stumbled. “Before Walker sees you, and I have to do something.”

She pocketed the rock and turned away, feeling disgusted. It wasn’t just the man’s smell or lack of hygiene, which was plentiful, but the way he spoke, the way he stood, his laugh, his laboured breathing and the dull, crimson bar blocking his eyes.

She found herself again wondering what had happened to this disgusting little man, what it was that had broken him so completely. She shivered.

She had begun to move back towards Walker and Benny, when the junkie whispered to her in a sing song voice, echoing slightly around her.

“I am lost, still not found, though now blind, still see, and though the world spins round and round, the key to this, is me.”

Daisy stopped and spun back to him, causing the water around her sodden boots to splash against the wall. As Walker turned to see what had made the noise, Daisy looked into the shadows for the junkie, but he was gone.

She glowered into the darkness, hand resting on her pistol. She heard Walker carefully making his way up the tunnel behind her.

“What is it, girl?”

She noticed he had his knife ready, and his holster unclasped. Daisy continued to scour the dull, dripping murkiness ahead of her, but could see nothing.

“Girl?”

Daisy turned her head sharply, but let it go. “Nothing, Walker. Just a rat.”

Walker’s face remained passive as the visor stared at her. Finally he straightened up, and nodded. “Come on, then. Our guide knows the way. Finally.”

He loped down the tunnel, leaving Daisy behind. She took one last look into the shadows and followed, the junkie’s dying chuckle ringing in her ears.