Day of Rebellion by Johnny O'Brien Read Free Book Online Page A

all the electrical goods in here. It’s incredible. This sort of technology, well, it seems completely out of place – it’s maybe seventy or eighty years ahead of its time…”
    “There’s other stuff over here,” Angus said, “but I don’t think these are electrical. Sewing machines, maybe? But these look like they’re…” Angus peered closer, “ Steam driven.”
    “And look at those weird things – pumps. This one looks like it’s attached to a lawn mower engine or something…”
    Angus placed his hand on the device, “I’d know one of these anywhere – it’s a spark plug, and that’s a carburettor and there’s a little fuel tank there… it’s a petrol engine.”
    “Well that makes no sense either – I’m sure these designs are too advanced for 1860.”
    “What do you think it means, Jack?”
    “I don’t know. It’s weird… all these different technologies in one place – steam, electricity, petrol – it’s like everything has been kind of mixed up together somehow… or,” he bit his lip, “like technology is developing really quickly, so stuff like steam and petrol, have been discovered at the same time.”
    “What, or who, has triggered such a massive change?” Angus asked. “How did it happen?”
    “I don’t know,” Jack shook his head. “Anyway, it makes no difference; we need to follow the same plan. Work our way across the city to the harbour to find Dad. Let’s check the map on the app.”
    Jack reached into his undervest and pulled out his VIGIL device. Before their departure he had downloaded plenty of information from the Revisionist system about nineteenth-century China, including a rudimentary map of Shanghai.
    “Here we go… first of all we need to try and work out where we are and then how we get to the harbour.” Jack looked at Angus. “You ready for this?”
    They unbolted the shop door and stepped out onto the street. It was humid and warm. In some ways it was what Jack imagined a Chinese city street to look like – flowing banners and signs in Chinese and a huge range of little shops and stalls.But there was something Jack had not expected. The street was completely deserted. Just like the hardware shop where they had arrived. Everywhere was boarded up and there were no signs of life. Further along Jack noticed a makeshift barricade that had been erected across the street. There was no obvious way through it, and Jack had no idea why it was there. He walked further out into the street to get a better view of their new surroundings.
    Suddenly, Angus screamed, “Jack, look out!”

Taiping Terror
    J ack swung round. As if from nowhere a horseman was careering headlong down the street. He was heading straight for Jack, with a lance in his right hand. Jack could see he was about to be skewered, but he was frozen to the spot. Again he heard Angus scream out his name… but it sounded oddly distant, as if he was underwater. Jack saw the horse’s mouth foaming and the contorted face of the lancer as he let out a hideous battle cry, but he still couldn’t move. Then, quite suddenly, the horseman lurched sideways and thrown from his saddle, landed awkwardly on the dusty road. The horse reared up, its forelegs kicking out centimetres from Jack’s head, then it turned and cantered back up the street. Jack was still too stunned to move.
    “Get back down here, if you want to live!” A voice shouted.
    Then Angus was beside him bundling him forward and he finally snapped out of his trance. A man dressed in a cavalry uniform with a red jacket and dark trousers was running towards them from the makeshift barricade further down the street. He had a huge handlebar moustache and wore a large white pith helmet. Both the hat and uniform had seen better days.
    “Hurry!” he shouted.
    As they ran for the barricade, Jack noticed the man’s rifle.
    “Captain James Fleming. Dragoon Guards,” the soldier thrustout a grubby hand. “Pleased to meet you, but how on earth do