67.

  I was back out on the rooftops under a glowing moon and I felt awesome!

  The Pigeon King’s potion had worked its magic and for the first time in what felt like months, my body didn’t ache. The bullet wound in my shoulder had burned fiercely for about an hour but was now fully healed, leaving only an ugly bumpy scar. My knees didn’t hurt, and my shoulder no longer ached every time I lifted it. My back felt like it was made of titanium and all the bruises and lumps riddled across my body had disappeared. Even the burns on my knuckles from over using the Zap Knucks were gone. I couldn’t believe the simple joy in just being pain free. After the night I had, that simple joy was precious and I clung to it. I didn’t want to confront the demons in my head. Better they stayed buried. I had baddies to find and beat down… the monsters weren’t real if I never looked under the bed.

  I whooped with exhilaration as I flew around the rooftops again; this was totally worth a year off my lifespan! I leapt across rooftops, moving like a dark blur in the night sky. I leapt across gaps between buildings, sprang up, rolled, and hurled myself again with reckless abandon. It was only when I slipped and scraped my shin painfully on the corner of a big yellow brick that I calmed down and reminded myself of the serious task I had in front of me.

  It turned out the Pigeon King hadn’t taken me far, I was only about fifteen minutes from home. I got back to the flat and suited up, after devouring some dry toast and drinking a litre of water. I had tested out some of my Runes and it wasn’t just my physical body that had been healed, my full power had also been restored. I hadn’t realised it consciously but I had worn my batteries almost completely flat. My nightly escapades, the constant damage to my body, my incredibly poor diet and even worse sleep, had meant my power was failing to renew and I was wearing my reserves lower and lower every night. Now I felt super charged. Not quite like I had in Somnix’s kingdom but I was definitely ready to kick some ass.

  Without the constant drain of endless pain and fatigue, my mind was also sharper. It had been about fifteen hours since I had infiltrated the Syndicate’s meeting and more than twelve since I had spoken with Sherbert. The homeless goliath would be my first stop. I just hoped he had some news for me.

  I arrived at the park just as darkness set properly. Our meeting place was empty. There were no more drug dealers or users hanging around here anymore. As I skirted the shadows around the one lamppost in the middle of the park, I noticed there was new graffiti. However, it wasn’t the usual gang scrawling. There were large letters in a gothic style print with lightning bolts shooting off of two simple letters: G.M.

  Someone had graffitied my initials on the park wall, marking it as my territory. Maybe that was why the thugs were staying away. I couldn’t help but grin under my balaclava as I admired the work.

  “Mr Mage!”

  It took a concerted effort to maintain my vigilante composure and not jump at the sudden shout. I turned to see Sherbert waving a meaty hand at me and pushing his trolley cart laden with the day’s finds on it.

  “Sherbert,” I said, giving him a nod, and checking our periphery. I don’t know why, but I had the creeping sensation we were being watched. “You okay?”

  “I”m great Mr Mage,” Sherbert replied, beaming at me. He was swaying side to side oddly and I thought for a moment he was drunk, but then I realised he was showing off his coat.

  “Is that a new coat?” I asked.

  “It sure is!” Sherbert beamed proudly. “Bought with the dosh you give me. First time I been proper warm and dry in half a decade!”

  “Good,” I said, glad he hadn’t wasted it on getting wasted. “Did your people find anything out?” I asked.

  “Lots,” Sherbert said, wrapping his new coat tight around himself. “Lotta activity going on,” he said in a low conspiratorial tone. “All the street people was jumping at the chance to help out the Gutter Mage.”

  “They were?” I said. I hadn’t been sure whether anyone would take up Sherbert’s call. After all, they lived on these streets and out here, the Syndicate were the last people you would want to cross.

  “Corse,” Sherbert said. “They all fink you’re a proper hero and we’re all sick of all them junkies and them dealers making our lives hell. Lotta folk have started putting your name up places.” He pointed behind me at the purple lettering.

  “I’ve noticed,” I said.

  “Keeps ‘em away,” Sherbert said. “They’re scared to go anywhere they see your name coz it means it’s protected by you.”

  The thought of big tough drug dealers hiding in fear of just my initials was a cool feeling, if slightly nerve wracking.

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  “Did they find out anything about the Syndicate’s stash house?” I said, trying to get us back on topic. “We’re running out of time.”

  “Lots is happening,” Sherbert replied. “Folks have been seeing Syndicate goons moving heavy all over South London. Looks like they’re changing up everything and right now there ain’t no drugs on the streets, everything's got proper quiet.”

  That made sense. With the additional scrutiny of the police and my disruptions at street level, it made sense to halt operations and consolidate while they waited for the shipment. But that was also a bad thing. The further the Syndicate went underground, the harder it was going to be to find them again.

  "Did anyone manage to get a location?" I asked. "Somewhere where it looked like they were building up defenses or opening a new HQ or something like that? There'll probably be a lot of extra backup, a lot of real goons hanging about just waiting."

  Sherbert nodded his head and grinned at me.

  "Down Lewisham," he said. "Down by the train tracks there’s an industrial estate. Purple Mary lays her head down there sometimes, and she said she saw a right bag of them goons, and they all look proper heavy. They were moving in a lot of stuff, you know, like boxes and things. It looked like they were doing up the place.”

  "Lewisham," I repeated. "That would make sense.”

  Right now, the Mulberry Estate was the last place where they would want to post up and receive the shipment. Lewisham was far away enough that they could move without being noticed.

  “Do you have an address?" I asked him.

  Again, Sherbert grinned and reached dramatically into his new coat, pulling out a scrap of paper and handing it over to me. I opened it and read an address that looked like it had been written by a 5-year-old. I nodded and tucked it away into one of my trouser pockets.

  "Well done, Sherbert, this is really helpful. Thank you."

  "Of course, Mr Mage, whatever you need," Sherbert replied, nodding enthusiastically.

  "And who did you say this lady was?" I asked.

  "Purple Mary," Sherbert replied. "She's a good old girl, hooked on that stuff unfortunately, but I've known her a long time. Good people."

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small wad of notes and handed it to Sherbert.

  "You give her whatever you think is fair," I said. "And whatever won't get her to, you know, take too much of that… stuff." I looked away awkwardly.

  Sherbert accepted the money reverentially and nodded, secreting it away inside of his new coat.

  "I've got to get going now, Sherbert. It'll take me a little while to get to Lewisham, and I want to stake the place out and see what's going on.”

  Sherbert nodded, opened his mouth, and hesitated before closing it again. He looked worried.

  "What's wrong?" I said.

  "Mr Mage," Sherbert scratched his cheek and looked down at the floor. "I've heard some scary stuff," he said.

  "Like what?" I asked.

  "There's money on your head," he said.

  "A bounty?" I replied.

  "Yeah. Apparently, the Syndicate has put 10 large out for any information and 20 if anybody can bring you to them. ￡30,000 if they kill you.”

  For a horrifying moment, I felt my heart leap. Had Sherbert betrayed me? Is that why I had this sense that someone was watching us? ￡10,000 was a life-changing amount to a homeless man, to anyone really. I took a step back and unconsciously sent power racing down my arms into the Zap Knucks. Sherbert's eyes grew wide.

  "No, no, Mr Mage, I would never!" he said quickly, waving his hands and shaking his head profusely. "I would never do that.”

  I stared at him for a moment longer and then realized I was being a paranoid fool. Sherbert was perhaps the first person I had met since becoming a vigilante that I felt I could trust, and here I was getting ready to zap him. I felt ashamed of myself. The power disappeared and I unclenched my fists, holding up my own hand.

  "No, sorry, Sherbert, I just…" I mumbled.

  "Don't worry about it, Mr Mage," he said. "You need to keep your head on and you need to keep two eyes on your back. 30 large is a lot of money. Folks will sell their own family out for that much."

  "Does everyone know about this bounty?" I asked.

  Sherbert nodded.

  "Well, at least that's what I've heard," he said. "It's gossip, really. I mean, I heard one person say it was a million, but you know, that's probably nonsense.”

  "Yeah, probably," I said nervously.

  "But they're really gunning for you, Mr Mage," he said. "They want you badly. Just be careful, alright?"

  "You too, Sherbert. Make sure you don't go around asking too many questions or, you know, go putting your name out there," I said. "Just keep it real low key, okay?”

  The silly grin returned to Sherbert's face.

  "Of course, Mr Mage. You don't have to worry about old Sherbert. I'm as subtle as a shadow. No one sees me coming." Then he guffawed goofily.

  His laugh was infectious, and soon I found myself chuckling with him.

  "I need to get going," I said to him. "You keep yourself safe, Sherbert."

  We traded grips, and Sherbert waved to me merrily as he pushed his trolley out of the park. I watched him go as I began to silently map out a journey to Lewisham. It wasn't far, but it was definitely too far for me to run. I'd have to take public transport, which wasn't ideal considering I was fully geared up, carrying a cricket bat on my back and wearing a balaclava on my face.

  As I quickly mapped out the easiest and quietest route there, I walked back to the nearest fire escape. Just as I put my foot on the bottom step, I heard the unmistakable click of a gun being readied.

  "Don't take another step," a voice growled from behind.