Personal Demons by Christopher Fowler

Author:Christopher Fowler [Fowler, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller

When you think about it, this is really silly. A bunch of grown men standing around in their underclothes.' Woody slid her arm around Bax as they watched the dancefloor, but her eyes kept straying to the dark recesses beyond. Jack was still at the counter having an intense conversation with Simon and the barman. 'Oh, I don't know,' said Bax. 'It's kind of like having X-ray vision. Didn't you ever see Ray Milland in The Man with the X-Ray Eyes? Anyway, nobody's hurting anyone else, so where's the harm?'

The noise of the brick cut through even the fuzzing bass sound of the track playing over the speakers. It clanged against the steel shutter next to the entrance and the bruit echoed through the club. A moment later the DJ cut the music. Muffled shouts could be heard outside. A chunk of concrete resounded against another of the shutters. Scuffles and angry yells broke out behind them as the rear door to the bar was hastily slammed shut. One of the barmen crashed a heavy iron rod across the door and locked it in place.

'What was that?' Woody looked back, shocked by the noise.

'They've broken in through the window of the corridor between the bar and the cloakroom,' said Bax. 'They can't get in here. But we can't get in there.'

'What does that mean?'

'It means, my dear, that we can't get our clothes back.'

'Let me get this straight,' said Woody, raising her hands in rising panic. 'We're locked in here, in just our underwear, with what sounds like a lynch mob outside howling for someone's blood.'

'Our blood,' said Bax. 'You're one of us now. Congratulations. You always wanted to be one of the boys.'

'Well, someone will have to go out there and tell them there's been a mistake.'

'Good idea, Woodson. You wanna handle that?'

Jack reappeared beside them as another hail of rocks clanged against the shuttered windows. 'I don't think they can get in. This place is built like a fortress. Besides, the cops should be here in a minute.'

'Well, that's reassuring. I feel better already. Let's have another drink, turn the music back on and dance.' Bax raised his glass just as – incredibly – the technotrack really did resume, bleeding a thudding beat through the speakers. 'Jeezus, I don't believe these queens!'

'It's like I said, they could tango their way through the stations of the fucking cross.'

'Somehow I think it's gonna take more than a sense of rhythm and a pair of cha-cha heels to get us out of this situation.' A few guys had returned to the dancefloor, mainly the ones who were tripping. Everyone else was standing back by the bar, watching the sealed-up windows with increasing nervousness.

'How many of them do you think are out there?' asked Woody.

'A couple of hundred by now,' replied Simon, who had appeared beside them.

'Oh yeah?' Bax wasn't prepared to allow the newcomer into their circle just because Jack sometimes spoke to him. 'How do you know that?'

'I'm sensitive to shifts of mood.

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