At The Sign of The Screaming Monkey's Head

Episode 6 - Stranger in Town - Redux

What has gone before

Fred, dreaming he was Barney, is traveling through some jungle. At the edge of a river, a large bird flies over and flies straight toward a large structure in the distance. The guide alerts the others that they have been seen, and they rush to the canoes and paddle downstream as fast as they can. The guide gives a signal and they veer and beach the canoes on the shore, sink them, and fade into the jungle. Motor boats roar past. The Europeans look worried, the guide is not. They make camp, and Barney goes to sleep. He is awakened by the guide taken to see a large pyramidal structure. Barney says “I remember…” and the guide clubs him over the head.

The lunch run was drawing to a close when Kindly Bob realized Sylk was standing next to him behind the bar. He looked up at Sylk; Sylk was looking back where they had put Fred to bed.

“Someone is up and trying to find the exit.” “Fred?” “No.”

“Ah. He’s earlier than later,” said Kindly Bob. “That’s good, I think. But I suppose it better to meet after we closed. I don’t believe he can get out.” Sylk shook his head, “Something’s wrong. He will get out. Best to meet him.”

The man in the room had tried the door, which had opened inward to reveal a wall. Pausing for a moment to tap in the places he had been taught to tap, there being no result, he began a slow careful circuit of the room, tapping softly and listening. He was on the far side of the room when he heard a soft shushing sound. Turning, he saw the wall sliding. I either tripped something, or someone is coming, he thought, and looked about for a weapon. Finding none, he lay on the bed and feigned sleep.

Peering through slitted eyes, the man thought he saw something dark at the door, but then it was gone. It was replaced by someone brightly dangerous, whose image was a key to a lock in his mind. “Good afternoon,” said Kindly Bob. “You have been awakened.” The man dropped all pretense of sleep and sat up alert and wary.

“How are you now?” asked Kindly Bob.

The man who had been Fred sat considering the question. Surprising himself, he replied, “Not finished.” He looked hard at Kindly Bob. “Something about you though. A warning… no, a warding. A caution signal.”

“Fair enough,” replied Kindly Bob. Kindly Bob glanced over to his right at the corner opposite the door. The man followed his glance and leapt from the bed hurtling toward the door. As he started to move, Kindly Bob shut the door and stood waiting, knife in hand. The man slid to a halt, spinning to face Sylk. Kindly Bob could smell the fear pulsating off the man. It was odd that not-Fred had turned his back to him and the knife and instead faced Sylk. He watched the man sink into a fighting crouch and could see him quivering rom adrenaline, fear, or both.

Sylk stirred from the corner. “Hello,” he said in a low dangerous tone. The man sprung, but Sylk wasn’t there. Catching him by the scruff of the neck, he lightly redirected the man back toward the bed. The stranger went into a front roll with a twist and rose facing Sylk.

Kindly Bob softly touched the man behind the right ear and said, “You cannot possibly know him.” The stranger sat down on the bed, and Kindly Bob could feel the concentration in the air. The man stared up at Kindly Bob’s azure eyes. “Hashtag zero zero eight zero eff eff,” he said then froze, staring through Kindly Bob.

“Hello,” said Sylk again, but this time it was a friendly greeting among friends. “Hi there,” said the stranger, turning to look at Sylk, or, rather, through him. Kindly Bob looked up at Sylk, moderately unnerved. He had heard of this kind of compulsion before, but never seen it.

“Azure,” Sylk said to the man. “Yes,” he said, voice flat and lifeless.

Sylk looked at Kindly Bob. “Double compulsion.” Kindly Bob frowned and asked, “Azure?”

Sylk looked from the man to Kindly Bob, and back. “The color of your eyes. That hashtag phrase he uttered. Old style screen code for the color azure - he said it after staring at your eyes.”

“Key of some sort?” asked Kindly Bob.

“Maybe.” Sylk paused thinking hard. “I’ve seen something similar. In my youth.” He looked back at the man. “The encoding appears to have been compromised in some manner, leaving him stuck.” He looked back at Kindly Bob. “He was told, I believe, to find the man with your eyes. So, someone knows you are on this planet, and knows something about you. But the compulsion has been frustrated.”

The man who had been Fred sat motionless, eye unfocused, mouth slightly open. Kindly Bob drew near, then motioned to Sylk, “Look.”

The man had a bead of sweat trickling down from just above his temple down to his jaw.

“You look tired,” Sylk said and the stranger lay down and was asleep in moments. Deep asleep. Kindly Bob went and sat next to the stranger and lifted one eyelid. Not REM sleep - but deep sleep already. He looked up with questions on his lips, but Sylk wasn’t in the room. Turning, he saw him standing at the door with a finger to his lips.

When Kindly Bob had closed the door and slid the wall back, Sylk asked him, “You said the formulary told you 30 hours. It’s been 16. And you said he went under too fast.”

“Yes,” replied Kindly Bob. “What are you thinking?”

Sylk was quiet a long moment, his eyes closed. “He needs to leave today.” “I figured,” said Kindly Bob and waited for Sylk to continue as they walked back to the bar. Kindly Bob pulled Sylk a stout, and poured himself a brandy.

“I was alerted that this person may come to us under a warding of some sort, and that you would have the complementary knowledge needed to bring him out. It seems however, that something about you at least is known, and I think an effort was made to get past you. An overlay on an overlay. You were to unseal one, but not the other.”

Kindly Bob considered this, and said, “My time here may be coming to an end.” Sylk nodded. Kindly Bob continued, “I think there may be three players here.”

Sylk looked up from considering the dense foam of his stout. “Oh?”

“The eye color thing. Seeing my eyes, he verbalized that hashtag thing. It seems to have arrested the counter compulsion. But someone with that skill would have been able to prevent the secondary compulsion to start with.” He sipped his brandy. “Or at least they should know.”

“And it’s another someone or something that knows of you,” said Sylk. Kindly Bob nodded. Then he asked, “How’d you put him to sleep?”

“I acted on a hunch,” said Sylk. He acted as if he knew me. Whoever put that in his mind must have an idea of what I look like, but that is all. When he reacted with fear, which was unexpected, I tested with a threat in my voice. The response was much faster than it should have been. When I responded with kindness, he responded in kind.” Sylk paused, and collected his thoughts. “There are many things wrong here.” Then Sylk asked, “What did you do? You stopped him in his tracks, but I heard nothing in your voice to calm him.”

“It was the touch behind the ear. Normally used to wake someone without startling them.” Sylk filed that away for later exploration.

Kindly Bob nodded and pursed his lips. “When he was intercepted and routed here, I knew he was compromised. And so you were brought in to help release him. But whoever did this knows something about The Screaming Monkey’s Head.”

Sylk nodded, “We still have the upper hand, but I think that advantage ends by tonight.” “Why?” “Whoever did this double warding was highly skilled but in a hurry. They left him highly suggestible, which is how I put him to sleep. But that means they are in a time crunch, and they won’t wait if he doesn’t manifest in some manner they understand.”

“You think the window is that small?”

“I do. We will have to move him, even if asleep. Not optimal. Not avoidable.”

“Yeah, and he is in deep. I think there is a chance the concoction we gave him will finish the job,” said Kindly Bob. Sylk nodded, “That would be good. If you are right about a third party, the two may have canceled, leaving “Fred” at the original state we were expecting.” They both nursed their drinks, thinking private thoughts. Sylk drained his mug, and Kindly Bob refilled it. He looked up from the fresh dense foam and said, “You have a way out of here.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes, and I’m guessing you already know where…” Sylk did not reply. Instead, “What about you and the Screaming Monkey’s Head?”

“You think the bar is in danger?”

“And you.”

Kindly Bob snorted. “I can handle anything that they may send my way. The bar itself - she’s sturdier than she looks. Plus, if necessary, I have a surprise.”

Sylk let that go. Kindly Bob had turned to get more brandy when 6 men came through the tavern door. No longer surprised that Sylk was not in the room, Kindly Bob said, “What’ll it be boys?”

One asked where the head was and followed Kindly Bob’s nod toward the storage hallway. As he disappeared down that way, one walked to the corner of the bar in the direction of the hallway, two hovered near the entrance, and two came up to the bar, one of the men pulling something from his pocket. Kindly Bob stood with a bland smile on his face without a care in the world.

“Seen this guy?” the taller blonder man asked. He held up a drawing. Kindly Bob looked at the picture and said, “We get lots of guys like him in here.” Impatient, “Have you seen this guy.” It came out one word at a time slow and mean. Kindly Bob looked up with his bland blue eyes and said, “Probably. Like I said, this place is where a lot of lost souls land.” The man went to grab Kindly Bob by the apron, but his hand was intercepted by a mug of beer. Kindly Bob smiled with a twinkle and said, “That guy is not here.”

“Brad, come here.” Brad came over from the corner of the bar just as the guy from the latrine came back and shook his head in the negative. “Show him,” Blondie said. Brad came up and the guy from the latrine took up his station at the corner. Brad pulled a photo from his vest pocket. It was a picture of Fred entering the bar. “What is this?!” Kindly Bob asked, “I’ve never seen this kind of drawing! It looks so real.”

Blondie went to grab him again, but Kindly Bob had turned to grab another mug for Brad. Frustrated, Blondie yelled, “Never you mind. That man was seen entering this bar day before yesterday.” “Ok,” Kindly Bob had a bland almost idiotic look on his face. “So what? I seen lot’s like him in here. They all look the same.” Looking at the shorter man standing next to Blondie, he asked, “What’ll it be, fella?” Blondie said, “Damn your idiotic eyes, where is he?”

Kindly Bob said, “Who?”

Blondie lost his cool and reached out one more time to grab Kindly Bob and shrieked and pulled his bleeding hand back, a cork screw embedded in his palm. The other four converged on the bar and then started flying about. Kindly Bob had grabbed Blondie and pulled him over the bar, kneeing him in the temple and knocking him out while grabbing the shorter blond man and putting him in a naked choke hold until he was out. He looked up and the other four men seemed to have all knocked each other out.

Kindly Bob shook his head and walked to the door and out into the street. “Marty, Marty!” A man in uniform at the end of the street called back, “Yeah Bob?”

“Some guys got in a fight in my bar, one or two need medical. The others are just out.”

Marty blew three short blasts on a multi-tonal whistle, and soon a wagon was coming and some more uniforms. They entered the bar and a couple of the men were sitting up but groggy. They were looking at each other with wonder and more than a little anger. “What happened? Why’d you hit me?” “Why’d you hit me?” “I didn’t!” “You’re a damn liar, that’s what you are,” and so it went. The unis gathered them all up, put iron shackles on them, then tended to the two at the bar. While Kindly Bob was out front, they had been moved to the patron side of the bar, one with his hands on the throat of the other, and the other holding a corkscrew embedded in the palm of the first.

“What happened?” Marty asked. Kindly Bob shrugged his shoulders, “I run a quiet little tavern here. I don’t think these guys are from around here. That one there has a strange picture thing. It looks like - I don’t know, real, or sumpin’.” Marty looked over at one of the guys waking up, walked over and roughly searched him. The guy tried to resist, and got a baton upside his head and went back to sleep. “Would you look at this!” Marty said. “Chief is gonna be innerested in this.”

Kindly Bob looked around and said, “Closing up early boys. Need anything for the long ride to the precinct?” A couple took him up on some of the new bottled beers that they could carry and open later. Marty said, “Nah, but if your open for breakfast, I’ll take your three cheese omelet!” “You got it,” Kindly Bob said, and locked up behind him. Sylk appeared from one of the alcove tables where he had been sitting the entire time the unis were there. “Time to go,” he said, and headed back to where the man who had been Fred lay dreaming.

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Next Episode, Sylk and not-Fred leave, Kindly Bob defends the Screaming Monkey’s head and makes a discovery.

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