Robert Rankin - The Brightonomicon

'Perk up, Rizla,' said Mr Rune. 'Matters will adjust themselves.'

'That is easy for you to say,' I said, 'being held aloft and about to be thrown into a fire by a bunch of bare-naked devil-worshipping ladies. No, that does not make any sense at all. Sorry.' And my hands began to flap and I began to spin around in small circles. 'Cast the sacrifice into the flames!' cried the Count.

And, held up as high as the bare ones could manage, Mr Rune suddenly groaned. He groaned and he clutched at his heart. And his mighty body went all-over limp and the bare-naked ladies struggled, then dropped him. Mr Rune hit the ground with a thunderous thump.

The sound of it made me feel sick. And certainly made me stop spinning.

And there he lay, all lifeless and broken-looking on the ground.

'Enough of your party tricks, Rune.' And Count Otto Black kicked him, dealing a hideous blow.

But Mr Rune did not flinch, did not shudder. He just lay there. And then he twitched.

And then he trembled, his eyes rolled back and the death rattle rose from his throat.

'Oh no!' I shouted and I leaped forward with no care for the pistol-packing pirate.

I bent and I put my ear to Mr Rune's chest. No heartbeat could I hear. 'Oh no!' I shouted once more. 'He is dead, he has had a heart attack or something. Call for an ambulance.'

Count Otto Black laughed mightily, which I felt was very callous.

'Do something!' I shouted, and I took to beating on Mr Rune's great chest with my fists.

And then all at once, a storm seemed to gather and lightning ripped through the heavens.

'It is no trick!' bawled the Count. 'He is surely dead. To the fire with him.' 'Leave him alone,' I shouted, and raised my fists.

Count Otto laughed once again, and then he gripped my shoulders and hurled me aside and his bare-naked minions laid hands upon Mr Rune. And they sweated and they struggled, but they could not budge his dead weight by even an inch.

'No matter.' The Count now held the map aloft once more. 'It is done. O Most High, the soul of the hated one now wings its way to You. Pass me the knowledge that I might prepare the way for Your coming.'

And as I looked on in considerable horror, the lightning struck like a laser beam, piercing a hole through the map.

'Aha!' The Count cackled and danced a bit, too. He veritably jigged. 'I have it!' he cried and he clutched the map to his bosom.

I stared down at Mr Rune and then stared up at Black and I was in some state of terror. Mr Rune was dead and Black had the map. The map with the neat hole through it. The hole that marked the secret location of the hidden Chronovision. There were tears in my eyes and I trembled and shook. The Count did a soft-shoe shuffle.

Though Mr Rune's heart had ceased to beat, mine was beating faster than ever. My pulse pounded drumbeats in my ears. And these were the drums of war.

He had known. Mr Rune had known that he might die this night, and he had made me swear to continue the quest should he not be able to continue it himself. And this dancing monster before me, this fiend in human form, it was he who had caused Mr Rune's death and he who now held the map to his chest and he who would kill me, too, cast me alive to the flames.

I rose with a roar and as I rose I sighted Mr Rune's stout stick. I snatched it up and I swung it, swung it as hard as I could. And I caught that blackguard a harder blow than I had with the wooden leg. And as he fell I snatched at the map and ripped it from his fingers.

The Count fell down on top of Mr Rune and the bare-naked ladies advanced upon me. And the pirates with their pistols.

'Stop,' I told them, 'all of you. Stop, or I do this.' And I held out the map towards the bonfire flames. 'I will burn it. I will.'

The bare-naked ladies made horrible sounds, like the growlings of spaniels in heat.

'Drop those guns,' I told the pirates. 'Drop those guns or I throw the map in the fire.' The pirates actually dropped their guns. 'And all of you back away.'

They did not want to do it, those witches of the Chiswick Townswomen's Guild. They wanted to tear me limb-piece from limb-piece. And then probably eat me, too.

'Go on,' I shouted, and there was madness in my voice. 'Back away now. It will not go well for you if the Count should awaken to find that the map has been destroyed and that it was all your fault.' And they backed away, growling and spitting.

'Kelly,' I called out. 'Kelly, come down from that grassy knoll.' But Kelly would not come down. 'As you please, then,' I said. 'And goodbye.'

And then I ran. Oh, I can tell you that I ran as fast as I could away from that fire and away from those women. I ran away and away.

They did not follow me at first, but then I did not expect them to. It had occurred to me that they would probably want to get their frocks back on before they pursued me through the busy streets of Lewes.

Although I had read in the Leader that the waiters from Eat Your Food Nude had formed a naturist bonfire society for this year's event. So it was possible that the witches might have been able to blend in with them. Though probably not that probable.

But those ladies did know how to get dressed fast, for I had not got all that tar before I heard them in pursuit. I could not see them because it was dark, but I could certainly hear them.

And they certainly knew how to run, for they were shortly close upon my fleeing heels. 'I will burn it,' I shouted back to them as I ran. But as I lacked for any fire, my threat must have sounded hollow.

Old Laz would have come up with something. And being in darkness he could have been anywhere within the remit of his four locations. And something unexpected would have occurred, to come to his aid, something that had been mentioned in an earlier chapter, as a throw-away aside, or so it would have seemed at the time, but which was really significant when it came to the crunch.

Well, that is how he would have done it. Which was why I wished I was him.

And then as I ran around a corner I was almost run down by a car that was corning up the hill as I was running down. I bounced over the bonnet and came to rest in a heap. The car ground to a sudden halt, a window lowered and a face looked down at me. 'Are you all right?' asked the mouth in this face. 'Far from it,' I said. 'Then let me help you up.'

And I could hear those growling women growing ever closer.

'No,' I shouted and I jumped up and I climbed into his car, sort of over the top of him, as it happened, and I dropped down into the passenger seat. 'Back up,' I told him, 'back up now. Do it if you want to live'

'I don't want to back up,' the driver told me. 'I'm going this way.'

'This way is a dead end,' I told him. 'It only leads up to the castle ruins. Oh, damn.'

And the women were upon us. They drummed upon the sides of the car. I slammed down the lock on my door. 'I would do yours, too, if I were you,' I told the driver. And he did. 'Tell these mad women to get off my car,' the driver said to me. 'It's a classic Morris Minor. Nought to thirty in eight point seven seconds. It even has the original screw-type jack and nine-inch tommy bar. I purchased it in Saltdean thirteen years ago. I call it "The Stallion".'

'The Saltdean Stallion,' I said. 'Well this was not what I was expecting.' 'My name is Norris Styver, by the way.' And that name rang a bell.

'You're the man,' I shouted, for there was quite a din now and the women had ripped off the windscreen wipers. 'The man in the urban myth, who drives for ever around the one-way system, trying to get out of Lewes.'

'I'm no urban myth,' said Norris. 'And if you are all right then I'm glad. I'm very pleased to meet you,' and he put out his hand for a shake. 'What is your name, by the way?'

'Just back up,' I shouted at him, 'or we will both die here. Back up.'