Shanahan paused at the edge of the cliff he had come to in his run. He took a moment to assess his situation, think of what he needed to do next, and take a bearing.
Despite running for miles at a jog, he didn't feel winded. That didn't seem right to his own mind. He should have broken down to frequent rest and sore muscles. He thought maybe that was the power of the horse holding him up so he didn't break down.
The cliff had an irregular path leading down its face to a bridge over a chasm. He couldn't see another crossing point in either direction. This might be the only way to get to where he wanted to go for miles.
Guard towers stood on both sides and both ends of the bridge. Collecting tolls from travelers seemed to be the reason. He didn't see a gate, but that didn't mean something couldn't be dropped in place to keep people from crossing the bridge.
And on the narrow walkway, he expected anyone caught in the trap would be sitting ducks for anyone in the towers with a gun of any kind.
He gave a little thought to that and considered if guns were a thing here. He didn't know. He had seen a lot of riders and animal drawn wagons, some swords and spears. He couldn't remember seeing anyone with anything like a gun in any of its forms.
He thought that maybe bows were a thing despite the magic powers. He wondered how those stacked up against Grandview's people. It was something to consider the next time he got close enough to hurt one of them.
In the distance beyond the bridge, a few villages of farmers and herders marked a path to a small city in the distance. The buildings seemed to be white stone of some kind. The roofs were some kind of red tile maybe. Beyond that city, stood the tower. It seemed to be made of the same white stone from what he could see.
The city sprawled around any natural outcropping as far as he could tell. If he was closer, details would help him decide whether he should go around, or go through.
The sun rested at the edge of the horizon. Soon it would be out of sight and night would be falling. The guards would be able to see him coming in the daylight. Should he go down and hope they let him through, or should he wait and try to go around the towers and use the bridge without trying to get them to listen to him.
How much pull did Grandview have with the locals? If he went down there, would they try to take him in to hand over? Did they know he was coming?
He decided he had to avoid anyone who looked like they might talk about him. If the minions heard a description, he couldn't count on them not remembering the killer of their friend. They might come out to talk to him in person.
He would love for them to give him another chance at killing them in a fair fight. He had excelled at that when he had been in, and felt he had not lost his touch over the years.
If anything, he had honed his skills to a degree he had never had when he had been chasing the enemy.
Shanahan decided to head down the cliff face to the bridge. He would think of a way to cross it when he got there. And if he couldn't cross it, he would wait until the bridge was open in the daylight and try then. He just had to expect the guards trying to tax him, or doing some kind of bullying, since he was a lone unarmed traveler.
It wouldn't be the first time he had run into a bullying cop.
He worked his way down the steps as the sun vanished. He didn't stop. He just slowed so he could pick his way. One hand kept a grip on the wall as he moved in case he started to fall and needed to try to catch himself.
Small braziers were lit in front of the towers. Guards set the fires and walked back in the towers. He heard a noise and nodded to himself. Gate shutting was a done thing.
He doubted they would open up to let him through. He had to wait, or try to find a way to get on the bridge and cross to the other side. He doubted he could do anything to the barrier. He had ran miles without a problem, but he didn't think that would translate to being able to lift a gate out of his way.
And he didn't have the patience to try with guards trying to stop him.
Shanahan paused at the base of the cliff. He didn't see any watchmen. That didn't mean they weren't there. He wondered when was the last time the bridge crew had to deal with a problem.
There was a chance they wouldn't be on the lookout for someone like him.
He waited. No one gave him the expected call of who goes there. He might be able to cross with no problem if he could get around the blockade.
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He studied the bridge before he tried something stupid. He thought that he could climb on the bridge if he could get around one of the towers. He stepped to one side and saw that only a low rail kept people from going into the chasm. He could reach that if he was careful.
The only thing he would have to worry about were if the guards saw him and decided to challenge him.
He should have asked Renfield more questions about how the horse actually worked.
He approached the towers. He saw they were built solidly into the ground at the end of the bridge. It looked like they gave support to the bridge as anchors. He felt the wall of the tower. It was rough and gave him hand and footholds.
He was grateful for that. Smooth stone would have forced him to do something even stupider, or wait for daylight.
He didn't know how much time Wyndham had, and didn't want to wait for the light. He planned to be on the outskirts of the city before too long. A short nap would be enough rest before he tried to run to the tower.
If he had a bottle, he might have risked real sleep. Now he dreaded when he would be too tired to not sleep.
He had to get to Wyndham before that happened. He didn't want to be wrapped in a nightmare without someone to watch him.
He closed his eyes and breathed out. He needed to swing out and use the stone from the tower wall to reach the bridge railing. Then all he had to do was got to the other end and use one of the towers on that end to swing back to solid ground.
Shanahan grabbed the stone with one hand. He placed a foot on a small bump. He tested the outcrop with his weight. He pushed off. He swung across the space smoothly. His feet found purchase without his trying. When he was close to the rail, he pushed off and turned in midair to grab the stone bar. He pulled himself over the railing and took a moment to regain his composure.
He stood when he felt he was ready to keep moving. He walked down the bridge, listening for anything that might show that he was going to be challenged. He hated the feeling of being trapped in the open.
He knew he was in trouble if they saw him and decided to use him for target practice. He just didn't think the horse would stop arrows, or other flying pointed things, killing him.
He paused next to the tower wall. Small lights reached him from the villages and the city beyond the portcullis. Once he was on that side of the barrier, he could run toward the white tower in the distance.
He put aside any thought of Wyndham being dead. There was nothing he could do about that. He had to keep going like he was going to find her and get her back to New York.
If he couldn't do that, he was happy taking as many of Grandview's people with him as he could when they finally tracked him down and killed him.
It wouldn't be the first time he had considered facing a better armed force. He had killed all of them too.
Shanahan used the rail to leap to solid ground. He landed lightly and walked away from the checkpoint. He had to get moving if he wanted to find a place to hold up before daylight.
He didn't want to be out in the open when he got too tired to keep moving. He wanted to be in a place where no one could hear him.
Once he had his nap, he could go back to trying to get to the tower and finding Wyndham.
He started jogging again once he was far enough away from the bridge and towers where he wouldn't attract attention. He focused on the villages glowing slightly in the dark. Maybe he would see somewhere he could bed down between them and the city.
He wondered about the tower. It was the tallest thing around. Why had that been built in the middle of what looked like a small forest? Why not something more compact like the city he had seen? None of those buildings had looked taller than three stories from the top of the cliff.
It didn't fit the rest of what he had seen so far. He didn't like it, and couldn't think about how he could assault it. He would know more about how it was built once he was closer.
There might be a way to punch through a wall, or climb high enough to get in a window if it had windows. He might need to deal with a mook to get inside.
Shanahan wondered if there was a supply line he could use to get inside. Once he was in, exfiltrating with Wyndham would be a priority.
Killing more of the chiefs would have to come later if he could get Wyndham back to New York, and if he ran into any of them again.
He didn't want Wyndham caught in a crossfire while he went about his business. That would defeat the purpose of rescuing her.
Once her fellow Weapons were dead, she could relax. He doubted any of the other factions would expend any effort to bring her back if she was the last one in existence.
And he was willing to exterminate them too if it came down to that.
Shanahan passed through the villages, sticking to a straight line as much as possible. He knew that was a thing in the real world. People jumped fences and gaps between buildings. They considered it a challenge to run in a straight line in the urban jungle.
In his case, it was just practicality. The tower was his only landmark of note. He needed to be able to get to it fast. Then he could think about running away from it as fast as possible.
He reached the edges of the city. He paused as he tried to decide which way he should go. He felt the lids of his eyes droop on their own. He needed a place to get a nap before he could go about his business.
He decided that if he could get on the roof of one of the blocky buildings, he could sleep on that roof. It wouldn't be the first time he had slept out in the open. He would deal with getting across the city when the sun was up.
Shanahan wondered the streets for a bit, checking things out. He found an alley full of trash on the ground. A window rested just high enough to use for a boost if he was careful.
He walked to a spot under the window. He kicked the trash out of his way. He judged the distance. He jumped up and grabbed the sill with both hands. He pulled himself up so he could get a knee on the sill. He got to his feet, hands braced for support on the window frame. He leaped from there to reach the edge of the rampart running around the roof. He pulled himself up and over to drop on the other side of the low wall.
He took a moment to collect himself before he crawled to a corner and closed his eyes. It was time to rest as best he could.