Harry Wall's Man

Professional Reviews

"Thrilling...has the vibe of classic hounted house...a wild ending...wonderful"

Librarian At Dawn - John

Excerpt

Prologue

From his darkened room Wall stared across a quiet Sunset Boulevard at the enormous, lit-up colossus. As he raised a glass of brandy to his lips, he recalled the words of his mentor: The children of the mind, Harry, the mediocre drunk had pontificated always give more satisfaction than the children of the loin. Indeed. As he gulped down the remainder of his beverage, he gazed out over the top of the glass at the perfection of his latest creation. The three bickering, indolent wolves that his wife had inflicted upon him had never caused him to feel such pride.

It was always a special night, the night before one of his babies opened itself to the world and took its place. His heart would pound with mixed emotions. He would marvel at the beauty of his offspring, its splendour, its power and yet, its innocence. The innocence of a virgin being led to the altar by a proud and yet slightly broken-hearted father, sad at having to concede his daughter to corruption. He would often cry on these nights, tears of happiness and sadness coursing down his cheeks. Tonight was different however. Tonight he wasn’t even remotely forlorn at the prospect of his child receiving its allotment of human filth.

Because this child was special. It needed people. For the journey.

He tore a leaf from a notepad on the cluttered desk in front of him and began rolling it. He bent over the line of cocaine before him and put his hastily constructed paper funnel to his nose. Wall studied the line that stretched away to his right. It was a very long line. It would blow his head off. But this was a special occasion necessitating a special hit. He went for it.

He flung himself back in his chair blinking rapidly as the most intense rush of his life flooded his system. His heart galloping, he gazed out at his baby, unaware of the blood flowing from his nose and pooling in the line between his lips before continuing its descent toward his chin. His breathing grew rapid as he watched his baby turn its head, momentarily facing him as it went to look east. Its raised right foot crashed to the ground, the deep reverberating BOOM it made all the more exquisite to Wall’s drug-heightened hearing. His bladder drenched his sweat-streaked underwear in delight and his bloody mouth widened in a demented smile. Completely ensnared by this glorious illusion he was oblivious to the still rising speed of his heartbeat. There was only his child’s first steps, everything else was immaterial.

BOOOMMMM!!

The left foot thudded to the earth beside the right. Wall jumped to his bare feet, blood dripping from his chin mixing on the floor with urine from his soaked boxers. He extended his arms outward, a soiled, half-naked drug-maddened preacher.

“Walk!” he shrieked at the concrete giant, bloodied spit flying from his quivering mouth. “Walk!”