Red, White and Blue (Book Two of The Powder Trail)

Chapter Forty Two: The Plunge

Sam hurried out through the French windows onto the pier, where the dancers were throwing themselves into the river in their desperation to escape the gargoyles. 

He couldn't help feeling a small glow of satisfaction. These were the people who had stood around, watching the rooftops at night and arguing over which family of hell these demons might be descended from. It had all been so fascinating to them – an intellectual conundrum, complete with a scantily-clad woman running for her life. They would never have suspected that the fascinating demons might climb down from the rooftops and start pursuing them.

Miss Syal had warned him of the gargoyles' strength – not that he needed warning. She had said that he would have to chain them to something extremely sturdy, if he wanted them to stay. But the city was his friend there. It was the city they'd wronged, so it was the city that would catch them. He had stashed chains beside the sturdiest buildings he could think of – some at Carfax Tower, some in Tom Quad, some on the dancing-pier by Folly Bridge (which, as the place where Miss Syal was planning to be, seemed like the place of greatest danger).

He'd left them by the bandstand, because they were not the sort of thing you could carry with you in a dance hall. He picked them up now and wound them part-way round his wrist so that he wouldn't drop them in the struggle.

Behind him, one of the gargoyles staggered out onto the pier. It really did stagger, as though it was drunk – reeling into tables, swiping at the air far more often than it swiped at the dancers.

There was something wrong with them, Sam realized. They weren't the concentrated engines of fury they had been when he'd seen them last.

He picked up a wine-bottle from the nearest table and hurled it at the creature to try and get its attention. This made it screech and reel all the more – but for some reason, when it got close to him, it paused and sniffed the air uncertainly. Everything had been chaos from the moment they'd passed through the door, but now the creature calmed a little. It unfurled its wings and flapped them a few times, as though it was testing the air.

Sam – more for the benefit of his watching men than because he expected any response from the gargoyle – said, "You have the right to remain silent-"

The gargoyle swiped an arm at him, narrowly missing his head.

Sam backed away, but soon found the hand-rail at his back, preventing him from going any further. He heard Jack's voice, from a year ago, saying, 'Stay on top of him – back him into a corner – make him carry your weight', and was aware that the gargoyle had done precisely this to him.

But it didn't matter, did it? The closer the creature got, the easier it would be to chain. It was just keeping all his limbs attached while he chained it that would be the challenge.

The gargoyle leapt at him, teeth-first, but Sam grabbed hold of its head. Bracing himself against the hand-rail, he tried to force it backwards. For a second, he could see nothing but teeth and jaws stretched wide enough to swallow him, but then the gargoyle shook him off – with the kind of strength that reminded him of the last encounter he'd had with pointy teeth – and he tumbled to the side, into the band-stand. He heard a twang of strings as the violins toppled over.

The gargoyle recovered its balance and lurched at him again, but this time, Sam managed to hook the chain around its neck and duck down, scrambling through its legs, taking the chain-ends with him.

Then he ran as hard as he could to the end of the pier nearest the bridge. He heard the tell-tale clink and thud behind him, as the chain snapped taut and dragged the gargoyle off its feet, but he didn't look back.