Mike Shevdon - The Road to Bedlam

I moved back along the pavement and walked away. I wanted to get a closer look at them, but walking straight up to the car was not the way. I had the advantage. I knew where they were and as far as I could tell they didn't know I was here. I also knew the ground. I had lived here for a number of years and I was betting I knew things they didn't.

Along the road was a concrete drive that went behind the row of houses opposite Katherine's house, leading to a block of garages. I knew this because we'd had problems with vandals breaking into the garages and setting fire to them. The neighbours had called the police and fire service out on more than one occasion.

I strode between the houses and through into the parking area. A couple of kids were passing a ball between them, kicking it against the side wall of the end garage. They looked a bit young to be out in the late dusk but I ignored them and they did not see me. At the end of the row of garages was a path that crossed between the streets, allowing pedestrians from either side to access the garages. It was used as a cut-through for bikes and an escape route for vandals until the gates had been padlocked and only the garage owners given keys. The gate was almost opposite Katherine's house.

I peered around the end of the last garage, noting that the gate was shut, and then walked quickly between the houses. There were hedges either side but the gate itself was metal with a chain-link mesh and so I would be able to see through to where the car was parked only yards away.

I wanted to see them without being seen myself, so I intensified the misdirection around me. The air chilled and, as it did, a persistent beeping started. The car doors opened and the beeping got louder. I pressed myself closer to the hedge.

A low voice spoke. "See anything?"

"Nope."

"Could be a false alarm?" The voice sounded hopeful, but also excited.

There was a pause.

"Could it?"

"Watch the house. Tell me if there's any movement. Have any lights come on?" The other voice was calm, low and level.

"No."

There was another long pause.

"It's a false alarm, right?"

"The alarm went off," said the calm voice.

"Yeah, but that could just be natural, right?"

"Didn't you feel it get colder?"

"Sure, but the sun's just gone down."

"It suddenly gets colder in a car with all the doors and windows shut."

"Right." There was another pause. "Hear anything?"

"Only you."

"Right."

We all kept silent, not ten yards apart. I waited to see what they would do.

"Shall I call for backup?"

"No. It'll be over by the time they get here."

"We should report it."

"We will. See anything?"

"No, it's getting dark."

"Yeah, that's how it goes."

Keeping a reassuring grip on my umbrella, I moved quietly back down the alley to the garages. I had been right to be cautious. While I had seen no sign of weapons, I had the distinct impression that these people were armed, or at least one of them was. What were they going to do, shoot me? For what? What about human rights? Then I realised that human rights probably didn't apply to people who weren't entirely human.

I had disappeared off the radar as far as the authorities were concerned. I no longer paid tax, owned a flat, had a job that could be called a job or even had a bank account. My life had been cleaned up and cleared away. It made me feel suddenly vulnerable. They could kill me and no one would ever know. The way fey magic worked, if I was killed, my own power would be released and it would consume my remains, leaving only dust. There wouldn't even be a body to explain.

I was used to a world with rights and obligations. As long as I lived peacefully and paid my taxes I expected to be left alone. But I no longer paid taxes, the umbrella I carried was really a sword and my loyalty was not to any human authority.

I walked through the garages and cut back to the street, turning away from the house and feeling isolated and exposed. Wrapping the dark around me like a shadow, turning away glances and avoiding notice. Part of me wanted to go back. Part of me wanted to return to the car and show them what being fey really meant. I knew if I used my training and my power, two men with guns would be no match for me. I could kill them both before they even saw me.

The anger boiled up in me, making me squeeze my fists together. They took my daughter and now they were denying me access to my ex-wife. Even though Katherine and I were no longer married, even though she had Barry to care for her, I still felt protective about her. How dare they camp outside her house, waiting to see if I would appear. What did they think they were doing, protecting her?

It was that thought that killed the anger for me. What were they protecting her from? Where was the monster?

That would be me.

I stopped. I was walking around the streets blindly, just as likely to walk into trouble as away from it. I needed to get my head together and start behaving like a Warder. What had Garvin said? I needed to find out about them while they were looking for me. Well, I had learned something – several things.

I knew they were watching places I was known to frequent. I knew they had a way of detecting fey magic, probably using some sort of heat sensor. They had mentioned the fall in temperature and that would make sense. Any strong use of power triggered a cooling in the general area, indicating that fey magic might be close by. I had the strong impression they were armed and that they were prepared to use their weapons.

I wondered how much of this Katherine knew. Did she even realise she was being watched? She had no reason to be suspicious and if she wasn't looking for it, she probably wouldn't notice.

I'd been making my way through the estate until I reached a particular cul-de-sac. Recent experience made me cautious. I stepped into the shade of an overhanging tree and merged with the shadows there. Glamour used very little power and would not cool the air around me. I shifted appearance and became an old man out for an evening stroll, my umbrella now a walking stick. I stepped out from under the tree, moving slowly and gently, as an old man might.

The kerbs here were crowded with cars and vans. Most of the houses had been extended at some point, leaving no room for a garage. With two or three cars to each family, parking was at a premium. I did a full circuit of the cul-de-sac, stopping to look at an interesting shrub outside one house. There were lights on and in the upstairs room at the front the window was ajar and I could hear a radio playing. I knew this house. I had dropped Alex off here many times for sleepovers and homework sessions. It was Kayleigh's upstairs window that faced the front and it sounded as if she was in her room.

I continued my walk, finding all the cars unoccupied.

"You all right, Grandad?"

Two large lads walked towards me, just as I reached the road.

"What's that?" I growled, preparing myself for an assault.

"I said, are you OK, Grandad? You were looking a bit lost. A bit deaf, are ya?"

"I'm quite well. thank you, young man, and I can hear perfectly well."

"All right, keep yer 'air on and mind your step. It's getting dark."

They walked past, and I watched them cross the end of the road and walk on into the evening. They were just lads out for a walk, or on their way to the pub, maybe. They still made me jittery. Being ultra-careful, I walked back around the cul-de-sac the other way. Every few yards I stopped, as if for a rest, and used a little power to create a concealment around me, cooling the surroundings. Each time I listened carefully for an alarm, seeing no one and nothing.

A lady came out of one of the houses with a dog and bid me a good evening. The dog growled at me in an uncertain way until the owner yanked the lead and told it to stop being silly. Even so, it watched me as it was led away out of the Close. I followed it slowly until I reached the end of the Close again. Opposite was a small park with a few swings, a seesaw and a roundabout. There were some seats where parents could sit and watch the children play in the daytime, only now one seat was occupied by a pair of teenage lovers who were focused entirely on each other. On the swings nearby a small group of lads were trying to impress two teenage girls by engaging in the sort of antics that consistently failed to impress while simultaneously providing an opportunity to lose several teeth. One was standing on the swing with one leg while hanging from the chain by one arm, jerkily swinging back and forth.