When I regained my composure, I looked back at the figure as he walked herky-jerky toward the club, muttering to himself. I chuckled as the drunk stumbled, weaving his way toward the beckoning neon signs that promised all manner of unsavory carnal delights. He had about twenty too many from the looks of him. Tomorrow morning was gonna be hell on him, if he made through the night.

Pretty low on the threat scale, my paranoia be damned, I looked away from the drunk and watched my money in action. Just as I started to relax and get back into the rhythm of things, I heard an angry shout, followed by a woman’s screech. Candy stopped and peered up at me, her eyes wide. Growling, I looked out the window to see a couple backing away from the wobbling drunk who’d apparently careened into them as they’d exited the club. Even from the car, I could hear him jabbering something incomprehensible while he moved toward them, wavering from side to side.

The couple’s faces were plastered with terror.

Thinking that was a strange reaction given the circumstances, I took a closer look. While I couldn’t really see the guy that well, I noticed he had his arms thrust out before him, reaching for the woman. Irritated, and not up to playing the hero, I tried to ignore the situation, urging Candy to keep going. That’s what bouncers are for. I paid for a good time, and I was damn well gonna get one.

That’s when I noticed them.

Out of the desert, from the same direction the drunk had stumbled in from, a huddled mass of figures appeared. Like the guy harassing the couple, they seemed to shamble forward, their steps awkward and rigid. They, too, were mumbling loudly, their words lost in the jumble of their raspy chorus. Unable to see them any better than I had the first, I let my senses loose. They drifted out, invisible tendrils of my spirit, seeking the bare essence of the approaching crowd.