The Follower :
Shaun diligently cleaned under his fingernails, his
concentration slipping, as the only other two people in the room
spoke in quite tones, their smouldering cigars now mere stubs of tobacco leaves. One was Mr Drake, Shaun's employer, a portly man with fingers bedecked in rings with long black hair and an oiled goatee. He was a man known to help those who wanted to get lost, or at least, never found. The other was a man he had never seen before. He was a short man, just over five foot, with a skinny body and weak chin, but an arrogant toss to the head that indicated a high self regard. Shaun couldn't see why.
They sat in a dingy back room of a smoky bar, frequented
by mainly city rats and headhunters. The room stank of beer, and the flickering fluorescent light filtered through the smoke to play shadows on the stained wooden walls.
All three of them had been here for over an hour, but the
discussion had never included Shaun. This didn't bother him too much,he had gotten used to knowing next to nothing about his employer's deals. It was safer that way. Boredom, however, was beginning to gnaw at his curiosity. His nails were soon immaculately clean. Too bad i've only got ten fingers, he thought.
He adjusted his position in the chair for the countless time as small man got to his feet and thanked the boss. His voice was controlled and steady, but Shaun noticed the man's palm was sweating as he reached out to shake the boss's hand.
Mr Drake, clasped the proffered hand and the man left the room.
"Shaun," his boss's voice was strong and commanding with an oiliness that matched his beard, "I have an errand for you."
Standing outside the bar, sunglasses stretching across his eyes, Shaun looked at the device built into his arm. The watch-like receiver showed the time to be a little before 9am. He hurried off down the street, avoiding the traffic of people by using back streets and alleyways.
His destination was an armorer on the other side of
the city. He was to follow two customers of the armorer back to where they were staying and give them a message. A description was given for both, the first was a man with long braided blonde hair and beard, the other, and definitely the easier to identify, was a dog-boy well over seven foot, with a massive build and rusty brown fur.
He jogged the last couple of blocks and was soon sitting inside a clothing shop, trying on shoes, his view unblocked as he looked out across the road to the armorer's. The salesperson helping him, grew impatient after Shaun tossed the fifth pair to the floor, commenting on the crudeness of the sole, just as the two described to him rounded the corner and entered the armorer shop. He tried the first pair of shoes again, and, seemingly content, was out the door with a new set of shoes, on the tail of his quarry.
The two men walked quickly, their long legs stretching out before them, lengthening the distance between them and Shaun. Shaun, however, knew the city well and, detouring down a few shady back alleys, used the knowledge to keep up with the two men. It was after jogging down one of these paths that Shaun lost them. He looked up and down the street but couldn't see any trace of them so he decided to wait a little while in case they had entered one of the shops.
After a few minutes he started to worry and decided the best course was to retrace his steps and follow the likely path they took. He only made it a few steps before a massive, furry arm launched out to snake around his neck and lift him to the tips of his toes.
The shock caught him off balance but he quickly adjusted his body before reaching back to grab the second finger of his assailant's hand, and twisting it forward. His attacker let out a howl of pain as Shaun felt both the finger and hold break. Free, he dropped to the ground and rolled forward, by the time he was on his feet he felt a wierd sensation take over his body. Once again he felt his body lifted to the tips of his toes, but the effect continued until he hovered four feet off the ground his, arms swinging wildly.
Shaun panicked. He tried to move but his body didn't respond. Levitation, his scrambled mind reasoned, the other must be a bloody magic-user, or he's got his hands on a some wicked piece of equipment.
The two men stood somewhere behind him. He heard the guttural accent of the dog-boy.
"He better speak quickly or I'm just gonna rip his freaking arms off."
The voice of the man, was calm and collected.
"Don't worry," he said "If he doesn't speak I'll just burn him to ashes, and walk out of here as if nothing had happened. I'm sure no-one will miss this pathetic creature."
Shaun searched his muddled mind for something to tell him. He knew he had a reason, but what?
The dog-boy, his face twisted in anger and pain, walked into his line of vision. He held a vibro-knife in one hand, its point very much resembling the dog-boy's teeth, the other he held up to show Shaun. Another wave of panic washed over Shaun's body, but this time his mind broke through the terror and remembered his mission.
"I have message." his voice came out in a whimpering tone, "Please d..don't kill me."
The dog-boy pulled back his lips and bared more of his arsenal of fangs. He flicked the blade on.
"I..it.it's from a man named Dreyfuss." he said "H..he wants to employ u..u..you both."
The man walked into Shaun's vision, a grin on his face.
"Well what's with the secrecy?" he asked, "Why did he employ you to follow us and give this message rather than do it himself?"
The grin made Shaun even more terrified.
"H..h.h.h.he didn't employ m..me," he stuttered "He came to my boss. Mah..mah..my boss i..is a man known to hide people for a fa.fa.fa.fee. Da..da..dreyfuss needs a ga..ga..guard for a while."
The man scratched at his beard as he contemplated. They both turned their backs on Shaun and whispered quietly to each other. The dog-boy shook his hand and head a few times, the other hand still held protectively against his chest. When they turned back around to face Shaun the dog-boy no longer snarled in anger, his face softened to a grimace of pain.
"How much is he willing to pay?" asked the bearded man.
The conversational tone of the question quelled some of the beating of Shaun's heart. But only some.
"Forty thousand," he replied "it is negotiable."
Again they turned their back on him and spoke quietly with each other. When they turned back even the dog-boy had a small grin on his face.
"OK," growled the dog-boy "but first you're gonna take me to a friggin body fixer and pay for this finger."
Shaun felt his body return to the ground. His heart, however, took a little longer to return to its normal speed.
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