I was half dozing when I suddenly realised we were slowing, and my head snapped up as we eased to a halt. Ms. Fate was leaning forward, peering over the steering wheel at the road ahead. I sat up straight and looked, too, but I couldn't see anything immediately threatening.

"What is it?" said Screech. "Why have we stopped?"

"It's the traffic," said Ms. Fate. "Where's it all gone?"

She had a point. We were on a minor road, in a distinctly shabby area, but even so, there should have been more than the mere trickle of cars slipping past us. The pavements were empty, too, hardly a tourist or a punter to be seen anywhere. When this happens in the Nightside, it can mean only one thing. Something really bad is about to occur, and people with any sense have removed themselves from the vicinity until it's all safely over.

"It's Walker," I said. "He must have shut down the side streets to block us in."

"What do we do?" said Screech.

"Get ready," I said. "Something's coming."

The werewolves came out of nowhere, dozens of them, streaming out of the side streets, racing down the main road, bursting out of the clubs and bars on either side of us. Huge, bestial shapes, with long, hairy bodies that were still vaguely, disturbingly, human. Muzzles full of teeth, and hands and feet tipped with vicious claws. Inhuman muscles bulged along their lupine frames. They were ahead and behind and all around us even as I realised what was happening. The first ones to reach us swarmed all over the Fatemobile, and it shook and juddered under their weight.

"Move move move!" I yelled, and Ms. Fate put the hammer down.