The Burning Man

7

Church, Laura, Shavi and Ruth caught the last bus into the city centre, sitting apart to pretend they were not together. Against the moon-silvered sky, Church saw the billowing black cloud of the Morvren following the bus. At Euston Road, the ravens settled on the dome of the Planetarium and the surrounding buildings, a brooding infestation. It was long past one a.m., but the traffic still rumbled and the fast-food joints along Gower Street were doing a brisk trade.

Church and the others jumped off the bus and walked separately to the quiet of University Street where they congregated in a darkened doorway.

‘Why didn’t the Libertarian follow us?’ Ruth asked.

‘He knows we’ve got nowhere to go,’ Church replied. ‘He thinks it’s just a matter of time until his lot catch us.’

‘Isn’t it?’ Ruth said. She caught herself. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just tired.’

‘All right, where to now?’ Laura said.

Before Church could answer, they were startled by the flapping wings of a large owl as it landed on a parked car. Ruth smiled to see her companion.

‘Looks like you’re wanted,’ Laura said.

The owl was restless and didn’t calm even when Ruth stood before it. In its large, unblinking eyes, she saw something that made her feel queasy. She turned to the others. ‘Something’s wrong.’

Church, Laura and Shavi were no longer looking at her. Over the rooftops, a crackling display of illumination was just visible, like the lightning heralding an approaching storm.

The owl soared away frantically. Ruth recoiled from the unexpected movement and when she looked back at the sky, the light display had been lost behind the towering buildings on Baker Street.

‘What was that?’ Laura asked.

Shavi’s expression was grim. ‘We should not remain here much longer.’

‘Head into the centre,’ Church said. ‘We can lie low for a few hours, then get a train out of Paddington or hitch a lift west.’

Footsteps echoing noisily, they moved through the deserted streets that ran between the main thoroughfares of Gower Street and Tottenham Court Road.

‘Is it me or is it starting to smell like some blokes’ locker room round here?’ Laura said when they had finally given up all pretence of walking separately. She was right. It had grown unbearably warm and humid, and there was a mounting odour of stale sweat.

Shavi kept glancing up at the thin streak of sky visible between the tall buildings.

‘Will you stop doing that?’ Laura snapped. ‘You’re creeping me out.’

‘Let’s get into the crowds in Tottenham Court Road,’ Church said. ‘We might be safer there if we can blend in.’

‘You might be able to blend in. I’m far too attractive,’ Laura replied.

The traffic was heavy and the pavements thick with people, but if anything the atmosphere was even worse. Though there was nothing to see, passers-by regularly glanced up into the sky as though they were privy to some secret signal. Their expressions were uniformly worried, and after each skyward glance they would pick up their pace a little. Car horns blared as drivers peered upwards through their windscreens, missing the changing of the lights. Motorcyclists pulled over to the side to look, then drove off at speed through the gaps in the creeping traffic.

‘I don’t like this,’ Ruth said.

‘You’re whining again.’ For once, Laura’s bravado sounded false.

A discharge of energy seared across the sky. People jumped, and a loud ripple of uneasy anticipation ran through the throng.

The crowds stopped to search the heavens. The car horns and the angry bellows of drivers were now deafening. Another golden energy discharge fizzed from behind the row of buildings at Church’s back.

‘Come on.’ He grabbed Ruth’s hand and pulled her into the jammed rows of traffic. Shavi and Laura followed close behind.

‘It’s coming for us, isn’t it?’ Laura said.

‘The Libertarian did indeed know there was no point pursuing us himself,’ Shavi said.

As they reached the middle of the road, a shadow fell across them. Huge, and moving forward quickly, it soon eclipsed the whole street. Church saw the expressions of the people packing the opposite pavement before he saw the shadow’s source: at first disbelief, then confusion, then mounting fear.

The cacophony of voices was drowned by a thunderous crash as a mountain of brick and tile fell from the top of a building behind Church, crushing pedestrians and cars. As a cloud of dust enveloped the street, people abandoned their vehicles and ran screaming, but no one was quite sure which direction to go.

Church, Ruth, Shavi and Laura kept close together, scrambling over the bonnet of the final car before thrusting themselves into the swarming crowd.

Another crash of masonry, more sickening screams cut short. An energy discharge struck the ground and a car exploded. Shrapnel ripped across the street and the windows of all the shops blew out, killing more. Fire raged at the point of impact, spreading rapidly to all the cars stuck in the jam. A chain reaction of explosions as each tank ignited turned Tottenham Court Road into an inferno.

‘We need to get away from the crowds,’ Church yelled as they broke into Oxford Street. ‘All these people are dying because of us.’

Laura came to a halt, transfixed by whatever loomed over them. Church followed her gaze.

Moving slowly over the rooftops was a monstrous echo of a Fabulous Beast. As big as a jet, it had two leonine heads, silently roaring, and a bulky big-cat body covered in fur, scales and feathers. A serpentine tail snaked out behind it. There were no wings or other visible means keeping it aloft, but still it flew, its clawed feet occasionally demolishing chunks of buildings as it passed. What disturbed Church the most was the way its four eyes rolled with idiocy, as if there was no sense in the creature at all. It was simply an engine of destruction, from which the energy discharges burst out at random.

‘How can the Mundane Spell hold when something like this is tearing through the West End?’ Ruth gasped as she ran. ‘The Void must have given up trying to maintain the illusion.’

Church grabbed her hand as they ran. ‘I don’t believe that. The illusion is where its power lies.’

Shavi threw his arms around Laura and dragged her in the direction of the Virgin store as more masonry rained all around. They all raced in the direction of Oxford Circus amongst the scattering pedestrians, the pursuing creature crashing against the rooftops in its blind, stupid relentlessness. Crackling energy bolts sometimes missed them by only a few feet.

Together they stumbled down the steps to Oxford Circus Tube Station, hoping they could find shelter underground, but their way was blocked by a gate. Church shook it impotently; with the last train long gone it wouldn’t be open again until the morning.

At the street entrance, the sizzling energy eased down the steps one at a time as the creature manoeuvred itself into position.

‘We’ll be fried if we go back up there!’ Laura yelled above the din.

Church and Shavi threw themselves at the gate, though they both knew it was futile. Superheated air hit Church’s back in waves, burning him through his clothes. Then, as he desperately examined the chain and padlock, he glimpsed a fleeting impression of a broad, disembodied grin in the dark of the Underground station, like the final fading smile of the Cheshire Cat. When he looked back at the chain, the padlock was open.

‘What caused that?’ Shavi murmured in disbelief as he helped Church wrench open the gate.

‘Just accept it before it changes its mind.’ Church herded them through into the dark ticket hub.

‘I’m definitely sticking with you, Church-dude. The gods are on your side.’ Laura helped Shavi drag the gate shut and refasten the padlock.

‘I’m reserving judgment.’ Ruth stared into the gloom. ‘We might have just tumbled out of the frying pan.’

‘That glass-half-empty attitude is going to wear thin pretty quickly,’ Laura said. But as she turned, she realised Ruth might be right, for Church was nowhere to be seen, even though he had only been feet away from her a moment earlier.