The Sleepwalker

Episode Four

Blue Blood

missed episode 3?

Som, Fiona and Joanne stood on outside the entrance to the Tower Of London, but between then and the Middle Tower that acted as a gate to the bridge spanning the now dry moat, stood a group of Nods. They had not seemed to notice the trio but rather loped around casually, occasionally wailing or half heartedly striking at each other.

Som had to be described this scene as he stood in the real world; the actual London night time outside the Tower. He saw nothing barring his passage except that he knew there were guards and security systems barring anyone from the tower. The only way inside was to travel in the Fringe, the grey world that lay just behind the curtains of normal reality. That meant facing this horde of Nods.

Joanne and Fiona dragged him through to the Fringe, a pain rising in him and filling all his cells before subsiding into a cold grip, his senses reeling and flashing as his entire being was dragged into a place only meant for the dead. It was a strange scene, these bizarre and unfathomable creatures, each taller than a man, strutting and keening their strange whalesong.
   “Once inside the Tower, we should be fine,” said Fiona. “We can either try to walk past, hoping that none of these Nods are violent, or run for the gates.”
   “I would say walk, then run if one of them makes a move...” replied Joanne. They looked out at the creatures, some of which had wandered away towards the Thames.
   “Let’s go then. We need the Colonel’s help, and those killers could be on Som’s trail. If he dies, we die, Joanne...” said Fiona. Joanne raised one eyebrow.
   “I committed suicide yesterday, and now I’m fighting for my life, or what’s left of it. If we make it to safety, remind me of the irony, please.”

They started walking, slowly but surely, and soon got close enough to see the huge black things with their cracked skin, slithers of red light emanating from within. One or two seemed to look, but then moved away, or simply sat catatonic. Their behaviour seemed random and it did nothing to help the trio’s nerves, as soon they had to step carefully between the hulks to proceed. One of them wailed at Joanne and she gasped, stumbling away from it- they held their figurative breath, but nothing more happened. Near the looming tower entrance, two of the Nods which had been nudging each other suddenly let out piercing high pitched noises, then threw themselves together. They lowered their heads and began rutting, striking out at each other as if in some strange territorial battle. The other Nods all turned and began wailing too, which is when Som, Fiona and Joanne collectively began to run for the tower gate.

The huge creatures made good speed but fell over each other, moving like baby deer, yet still one managed to flail a huge black limb with finger-like appendage onto Som’s back. It knocked him to the floor and Joanne stopped to pick him up, while Fiona was banging on the grill that kept intruders out of the castle.
   “I thought we could just walk in through the Fringe?!” asked Som, scrabbling to the gate, the Nods circling around them.
   “I said that some walls were solid no matter who or where you are. Just a second...” He realised that she was banging against the gate in a sequence and without warning it opened, pouring them onto the thin bridge that separated the gatehouse and the walls of the Tower of London. They ran across as fast as they could, hearing the heavy thumps of Nod footsteps right behind them. About halfway across, Som realised that the portcullis was down on the Tower- that wasn’t right, it was for show, and never actually used since the Tower had become a museum. Nonetheless it began to raise and came to a stop just high enough for them to crawl under, and so they hit the dirt, scrabbling under the huge metal spikes. Joanne made it first and then rough hands pulled Som under just as a fat, black Nod limb crashed against the bars, inches from his head.

The portcullis lowered with a clunk and the Nods began beating at it and wailing, but fights had broken out between them. Fiona led them both away from the gate and into the Tower courtyard, along with a new person who can only have been the Colonel.
   “Such strange things... they appear randomly, in the streets, in the alleys... sometimes they just wander around and you can walk right up to them, sometimes they attack on sight, sometimes they fight each other. Sometimes they just disappear again,” said the man with a very British chargrin in his voice, like the Nods were some nuisance pest or a foreign devil.

The man’s face was badly damaged, and Som realised that the shock of red was where he had shot himself, under the chin, the bullet exploding out of the top of his head. The red patches were his wound, just like the girls, and while obvious part was under his chin, he could make the rest out like a light shining behind a veil. The man was tall, broad shouldered, and wore an antique British Army uniform circa World War Two. His face was serious, had a little moustache and looked haunted, topped by a little cap with a hole in it, and slung on his belt was an old revolver.

   “I say, Finnabair, this is a surprise visit. Lucky for you I saw the Vortex moving closer to the Tower and knew that someone special was coming…” he seemed to notice the semi naked Joanne, which made his face bluster, and Som made him wriggle his nose and stand briefly to attention. The Colonel’s voice was like something out of a bad war comedy.
   “Colonel, this is Joanne, she’s a fresh wound, so look after her. This gentlemen is Som, I believe, the current-”
   “Sleepwalker, I can see that, child. Glad to meet you, Miss Joanne, welcome to the Fringe.” The Colonel turned to Som, and regarded him disdainfully. “A little unkempt, are we not? The living have the luxury of bathing and haircuts, I suggest you find both and quickly, young man. The last Sleepwalker, now, he was a fine man, a policeman, actually, far more respectable. Certainly not a paki, that’s a fact.”
Som was shocked. He’d taken racist abuse many times in his life, but that came out of nowhere and was so casual that it jolted him.
   “I beg your pardon, asshole?!” said Som, spinning the Colonel around to face him. The Colonel gripped him arm and twisted, forcing Som to let go, surprised by his strength. They stood eyeing each other.
   “Boys, boys... sorry Som, he’s from a different era. He’s not prejudiced, the language was different then...” Som simply stood, tensed to fight. He had one policy and one policy alone for this situation- wait for an apology, prepare to fight.
   “Ah, yes, well...” began the Colonel. He seemed to shrink a little under Fiona’s glare. “I apologise, boy- no harm meant, I get a little wrapped up in my own head... in ways, and I mean no disrespect by this, that you cannot imagine.” Som nodded and they all moved to a small chapel that was on the Tower’s premises. The doors here opened for the Colonel, and they took seats in the pews, moving quickly as Som had limited time left in the Fringe. He had been in this church before; it was small but pleasant, and looked strange all in greys.
   “So, why are you travelling with the Sleepwalker, young woman?” asked the Colonel. He turned to Som and added: “Our kind tend to steer clear of you. It only makes the heartache worse, especially if we become friends and then you die.”
   “Do any of you ever pass on, or are you stuck here for eternity?” asked Som. The others seemed to shift uncomfortably and Joanne’s ear pricked up; she had not yet come to terms with her fate and any way out sounded good.
   “Sometimes, one of us goes missing... nobody really knows if they pass over, go wandering or get destroyed by Nods or worse. For all we know, they could be reincarnated.” Som could not help but smile at that one.
   “We’re together because someone is trying to kill Som. Three killers working as a team. Living people in the living world...” The Colonel frowned.
   “Strange... why target him? Maybe they want to change who the current Sleepwalker is...”
   “We don’t know, but they seem to be taking orders from someone. We thought it might be one of us, a ghosty, trying to get the Sleepwalker killed in an attempt to leave the Fringe,” said Fiona.
   “As far as I know, that won’t work, because another will take Som’s place... but after a few centuries, people get desperate and I hear it’s been attempted before. Unfortunately, he can’t stay here. The gate can only be opened from the inside, but during the day anyone can walk in. Som can’t stay in the Fringe either, because if he materialises here before opening times the alarms will go off. I would hide him somewhere but you have no idea how high security this place is...”
   “We can’t keep running either, jumping into the Fringe every time those three catch up with me,” said Som. “I have a life to go to; not a great one, but one all the same. Unlike you, I need to eat.”

   The four spent some making plans and the Colonel agreed to come along to help protect Som. Som was unsure how he could help him defend against people in the real world, and that was when the Colonel divulged how he has been able to open the gates despite being dead- by temporarily possessing the night guard. The process was very dangerous as it began to imprint the suicide’s fatal wound onto the host, but he could use it to help Som fight if he got cornered. Som wondered how many ‘crazy’ people were locked up because desperate suicide ghosts had ridden them around.

   They took Som outside and were thankful to see that a lot of the Nods had moved on, and with a little running they got clear of them without incident. One of them gave chase but then tripped and lay down mewling. Som’s head was aching and he allowed the real world to take him back, his eyes adjusting to early morning gloom, now unable to see Joanne, Fiona and the Colonel but he knew there were beside him. He was hungry, tired and in pain, and wondering why the Colonel had called Fiona ‘Finnabair’.
   Som set off along the Thames, occasionally meeting early risers, mostly going unnoticed. He must have looked pretty rough, like a drunk or hobo by now- the lack of shoes did nothing to help. Soon, he found what he was looking for- the London Eye. He stared out across the Thames, waiting patiently for the three killers- the Court- to find him. His mind slowly started to relax and drift, tasting those strange red wyrd lines that connected everyone. He was no longer surprised by how quickly he had gone from luck spells to intuitive natural magick- he had begun to understand his special role as The Sleepwalker. The cold morning air rejuvenated his weary bones and a smile crept to his lips as he darkly mused on what lay ahead for him. He was prepared to get hurt for the first time in his life. Reaching out more, he felt the Colonel, Fiona and Joanne beside him, mainly their red wound marks calling out, connected to the web of wyrd, connected to everyone else and every idea. He found a strand, and pulled.

It was only five minutes before the Court found them, most likely already on their trail. The black London cab screeched to a halt not far from Som, the Eye fortunately still free from pedestrians. The Judge, Executioner and Jury stepped from their vehicle and began to approach him. He could see their symbols clearly now; red shimmering wings from the Jury, a hood on the Executioner, robes of office on the Judge. In reality they simple wore a wing patterned hat, black shades and Jewish formal attire, but what they really were shone through to Som. He wondered how long they had lived, if they were truly human any more.
   “You probably think you have some kind of plan, but we cannot be stopped once we choose a target, Som,” said the Judge. He smiled gently and drew a gun from his robes, holding it close to his sides to avoid suspicion. The Executioner had his briefcase but it was broad daylight and taking the axe out would be a bad idea. Instead he advanced on Som, slowly but with the assuredness of a truly large man. The Jury- Iris, the woman who had tricked him, pulled a mobile phone from her pocket. It had some kind of string wrapped around it and he realised it was some kind of magick as he perceived a red symbol hovering over it. It was the symbol of Mercury, and he felt the presence of the things she was calling instantly.

Within the fringe, the three dead souls watched the Court appear and soon after saw a pack of Nods come loping around the corner towards them, seemingly called by their enemies.
   “You two, get to high ground, I’ll help Som...” The Colonel turned to face Som, and... shifted.
   Som’s mind drifted away from the scene until he was barely aware of himself. The approaching Executioner, almost on top of Som, hesitated for a second as Som appeared to straighten up, adjust his stance and the way he held his face. The Executioner reached out to grab him...
   A wave of pain ran through Som, the same strange malady that came upon him when entering the Fringe, but it centred around his jaw and head where the Colonel’s wound-mark was. The rest of his body went numb and he felt totally helpless, until his limbs began to move without him.
   “Let me do the talking, boy,” said the Colonel from inside his head. Som’s senses reeled as the Colonel’s life, death and personality flooded into him just like when the girls had touched him. Som’s body moved in a blur and the Executioner’s lunging hands were blocked at the wrist by Som’s hands which gripped tight and pushed the wrist backwards over the joint. The Executioner grunted in surprise and his arm grabbed Som’s shoulder and knee came up to crush his groin, but Som’s hands did not try to block this time. They shot up straight for the Executioner’s face, not to punch, but grabbing it and ramming his dirty unclipped thumbnails under the iconic shades and into the enemy’s eyeballs. The Colonel may have been a gentlemen officer but he clearly knew how to end things up close and personal.
   The scream was very satisfying, but already the pain in Som’s chin was rising and blood was dripping from him. The impression of the Colonel’s fatal wound was manifesting on Som’s body, too real to ignore.
   “I can’t stay in you, I’m sorry young man,” said the Colonel as Som’s body returned to his own command and the Judge rushed at him, brandishing a hammer from his robes. The gun had been stowed- it must have been a bluff... they wanted him alive. Som charged at the Judge while in the Fringe, Joanne and Fiona were separated from him by the pack of Nods, wailing at them and striking each other. They set upon the Colonel when he left Som’s body, battering him to the ground.
   “Nooo!” shouted Fiona, throwing herself between the monsters, aiming to get to Iris and her modified mobile. One of the Nods caught her in a thick black limb and lifted her up, but Joanne barrelled into it, throwing it off balance, allowing Fiona to slip past and throw herself at Iris, the Juror. Fiona could not physically harm her, but these three had adorned themselves with symbols that went beyond their world. Fiona could still hit the part of Iris that was The Jury, the voice... that was an angel. She gripped those wings and ripped chunks of feathers from her, causing Iris in the real world to scream and clutch at her head, dropping the mobile phone. Whatever it did to call the Nods now seemed to anger them, they moaned and fell about, releasing the bloody Colonel and Joanne.

In the real world, Som clashed with the Judge, taking a heavy hammer blow to his shoulder which erupted with pain and made his left arm numb. Som grabbed and kicked but only managed to keep his attacker at bay. Soon the Executioner rose, clutching his eyes, but lucid enough to help the Judge grab him and restrain him. Som knew he should have run when he had the chance, but it was too late, the strong men engulfed him. He was hit over the head and began to slip into unconsciousness, taking a glimpse into the Fringe as he did. The Nods scattered leaving a wounded Colonel with Joanne and Fiona facing down against a new arrival.

The last man looked familiar...

Som concentrated on the bare chest and red noose mark...

Som saw Rifleman Valentine Bambrick.

He was not here to save them this time.