The Walker

Daisy watched Walker as he stood ahead of her, picking a lock. She heard the pick rasping as it scraped around inside of the door, and cast her eyes about, wary of any guards. So far, they had met no one; no caretakers, no guards; not a soul. This worried her, and she knew it worried Walker more. He had expected a full on fire fight.

As they had headed upwards into the belly of the building, it had started to change, surprising her. From ancient dripping stonework, up through the barren, bare concrete of the lower levels, they had reached areas that could only be described as luxurious.

The corridors and staircases that wound through the building were wide, grand affairs, lined with doors marked with words Daisy did not recognise. Ancient portraiture lined most of the walls, depicting noble, imperious looking men and women, wearing clothes that seemed too billowy and complicated to be practical in any way. She saw teachers and generals, soldiers and queens. Great moustaches glared down at her, and angry eyes watched as they scuttled through the depths of the library.

Despite the nerves setting her stomach on edge, she was impressed; she had never been in such a place. Charlie’s bar had seemed fairly posh, at least when compared to her local pub in the town, but this place, it was like a palace.

She turned back to Walker as the door clicked sullenly, and swung inwards.

Walker waved to her, and they crept forwards into the darkness, their boots padding gently on the carpeted floor. She could make out high backed dining chairs set around a long table that ran the length of the room; she could hear the rain attacking the windows to their left, but the view was blocked by heavy curtains.

Walker had stopped a few paces ahead at another door, which he tried. It wasn’t locked, and creaked ajar at his touch. He froze, and hissed at her.

She slunk next to him and looked to where he was pointing. The hallway ahead of them glowed softly with the orange light of a lamp, which was sitting next to two enormous doors. They were wooden, polished to such a high shine that the glow from the lamp made them seem alight with fire; heavy iron banding gleamed oily dark against the wood, giving the door an air of impenetrability.

Daisy’s heart had leaped into her mouth. It was the library. The word was carved into the heavy stone set above the door in big, gothic lettering, but she could still make it out. Walker half turned to her, and motioned to his visor. Daisy nodded and flipped her visor down in response.

He nodded and they set off again, trying to avoid the pool of light oozing from the lamp. Walker braced up against the doors, slowly pressing his weight. They began to shift, silently brushing along the soft carpet. As the crack widened, Daisy ventured a look over Walker’s head.

The room ahead was vast. The far wall was almost all glass; she could see the stormy infancy of dawn beginning to break through the long elegant windows, flashes and crackles of lightning from the storm outside briefly illuminated the huge pillars and arches of the ceiling above. As the crack in the door widened, she could make out details; the walls of the room were angled together, to form a huge hexagon. All around the room, as far as she could see, were bookcases; narrow rows of them circled the raised platform, also hexagonal, in the middle of the room.

She could make out tables and chairs on the platform, with lamps and what looked like writing supplies on them. In the centre of the chairs was a large dais, which rose imperiously from the stone platform.

She stood, there mouth agape, taking it all in. Walker finished opening the heavy doors and stood next to her. She turned to ask him a question, when she noticed his mouth open. “What is it?” she asked immediately, readying her pistol, thinking he had seen something.

“It’s so... big.” He managed.

Daisy looked up at him questioningly; he had been acting strangely ever since they had escaped the concrete underbelly below them. She had expected him to know his way around the building, but they had back tracked and ended in dead ends more times than she cared to think of. Now he was reacting like this to a room he should be more than familiar with?

“You have been here before, right?”

He turned to her and closed his mouth hurriedly, setting it in its familiar grimace. “Of course I have, I... just...” he cleared his throat. “It’s been a while. Come on, maybe he left the books in here. Either way, we’re in the right place.”

He sloped carefully forward, making his way around the old, stone librarian’s desk in front of the doors. She followed suit, taking care to stay close to the bookcase to her right. She glanced quickly at the tomes and works as she passed. There were too many titles to take in; there must be thousands of books on this side of the case alone.

Walker paused at the end of the case, and glanced about him, taking care to scan the shadows between the looming shelves around them. Daisy looked about her as well, taking in the high domed ceiling, shadowy and dark way above them.

They reached the edge of the raised platform, and began to climb. Walker stalked ahead, pistol drawn and loose at his side, his shoulders hunched in the gloom. He stopped at the top, and rested his hands on the podium. Daisy stood next to him, still scanning the room for anything that might be skulking in the darkness.

The top of the podium was flat, a smooth piece of glass that bathed Walker’s face in soft, blue light when he tapped on it with a finger. A pleasant tolling noise rang out, causing Daisy to flinch. Walker waved a hand in her direction and returned his gaze to the screen. Despite herself, she peered over his shoulder, watching. He was scrolling through lists, the words speeding past too quickly for her to read any of them.

There was a crunch, bringing them out of their search. Walker looked up quickly, pointing his pistol into the darkness ahead of them. Daisy stared intently, but could make nothing out. A calm, sombre voice called out from the shelves.

“That’s enough of that, Walker. It’s time for you to leave. Take the girl and go, one last time.”

Walker gritted his teeth, “I’m here for the books you took, Librarian.”

She could just make out a shadow amongst the darkened shelves ahead, getting closer. The man stepped out and stood looking up at them. He was tall and slim, dressed like Walker, but all in black, and far more uniform. His armour was polished and gleamed darkly, and his hat was tall and dark. His visor was nearly jet black, and it came down over his nose. She could faintly make out the sad smile from below.

“It’s him!” Daisy growled.

Walker didn’t turn, but murmured down to her. “Don’t move, girl; he has men watching us.”

Daisy froze, her hand trembling. This was the man who had had her father beaten to within an inch of his life, and had taken her families treasure, the reason she was here in the first place.

He spoke again, heading slowly towards them. “Yes, Walker is right girl, don’t do anything rash. We can all walk away from this.”

He waved a gloved hand and soldiers appeared from between the rows of bookcases around them. Their rifles were trained on Walker and Daisy, whirring slightly in the dusty quiet.

“Put those away, the two of you. We should talk first.”

Walker turned his head slightly to Daisy, then nodded. They holstered their guns, and the Librarian began his ascent towards the dais. He reached it, and scrolled in the same manner Walker had.

“What are you doing here now, Walker? You know what I said last time. You know what Mother thinks of you.”

He glanced at Walker, then resumed his scrolling.

“I’m afraid your books are in processing. Quite a sad little bundle, really. Stories and cookbooks.” He shrugged, “Still. Valuable in their own way. They’re better off here,” he added as Walker tensed, “This way, they will last forever.”

“They were mine, Librarian.” Walker grunted.

The Librarian tilted his head slightly at him, “Always so formal, Richard?”

Walker flinched. The Librarian shrugged again, and stepped away from the dais. “Either way, what you were searching for isn’t on the list. It’s in my personal collection; hidden away.”

Daisy looked up at Walker, who was staring at the Librarian with hatred, his lips thin and pale.

The Librarian began again, “Still taking on apprentices I see? We discussed this Walker.”

He rounded on the girl, leaning in close, “Why are you here, girl? Hoping for entry to the Order? Entranced by the tale of the noble Walkers?”

Daisy opened her mouth to reply, but her cut her off.

“You aren’t the first,” he straightened up. “There was a boy, once.”

Walker flinched again. Daisy raised an eyebrow at him, but spoke to the Librarian. “I’m here with Walker. We’ve come for his books.”

The Librarian smiled his sad smile at her. “That’s not all your Walker has come for. He wishes to change things. Become one with the Order again.” He turned to Walker, his smile even sadder. “Which he knows is impossible, for reasons we need not discuss here.”

He walked back to the dais, and flicked a gloved finger across it. The screen flashed, and the merry tinkling noise played again as the dais became dark once again.

“Come Walker, leave. Mother is already... upset with me for leaving you be so long. Take this girl and go. Stop this foolishness. It’s only a matter of time before she dies too.”

Daisy clenched her fists. No one would use her name. It was bad when Walker did it, even worse when this man, the man that had caused her family to die, did it too.

She spoke up, no longer able to contain herself. “Why can’t we change things? Walker said that knowledge is power. Why couldn’t we kill you, all of you, and make things right?”

Walker half turned to her, as did the Librarian. His smile was gone, his mouth a slim line.

“What Walker has planned, what you might have planned, it wouldn’t work. Changing a book, whilst being inhumanly criminal, is also not a valid way of changing history. It would take more than scrawling childishly on ancient tomes to change what has happened. Go home.”

She noticed Walker flinch for a third time, as the Librarian began to head back down the steps. “My men will escort you out, and you will leave. Try Europe. It’s largely unaffected by the weather these days. You can’t stay here, though, you clearly can’t be trusted.”

There was a click to her left, as Walker raised his pistol. Daisy watched, heart thudding in her chest, as he trained it on the Librarian’s back.

“He said we could change history. He said whoever has the power, the knowledge, can change what they like, what they need.”

Walker’s voice sounded different. It scared Daisy; normally his voice teetered between the gravelly mocking and the surly growling that she had gotten used to, but this sounded... different.

More animal.

More desperate.

The Librarian stopped and turned, slowly. The soldiers below them continued to point their rifles; blue targeting lights flicked on, bathing them in an icy stare. Daisy heard faint voices coming from the soldiers; pleasant and calm voices relaying information about their impending deaths.

The Librarian spoke, peering up at Walker, “He? Who is ‘he’, Richard? Of whom do you speak?” He shook his head. “Something has happened to you, old friend. You’ve changed. Leave, now. Before I finally come to my senses.”

He turned again and made his way towards his soldiers.

Daisy watched Walker; his jaw muscles rippling under his skin, his hands clenching and unclenching. “Walker? Come on, what are we going to do?” She was furious herself; that man had caused so much pain.

Walker said nothing.

Daisy glared up at him from behind her silvery visor, “Fine!” she growled, dashing forward. “If you won’t do something, I will!”

She raised her heavy pistol, flicking the switch on the grip. The machine started to squeak and whir as the overcharge built up inside it. The Librarian turned, his own heavy pistol raised squarely at her.

Time seemed to slow.

She fired, the heavy round sailing up and towards the Librarian. He tilted his head, and the round flew harmlessly passed.

She saw the soldiers moving, rifles swinging from Walker to her, and she felt Walker grab at her arm as he twisted next to her.

She saw the flash of the Librarian’s gun, the flame bursting savagely from the barrel.

She heard the boom the round made as it left its chamber.

She felt her necklace, with her brother’s tag on it, cold against her chest, as the slug ripped through her body.

She tasted the metal tang of blood on her tongue.

She felt the air leave her lungs, and the ice that replaced it.

She felt herself die.