Dead Mann Walking by Stefan Petrucha Read Free Book Online Page B

community organizers. Lives in a room off the front hall of the admin building. Shares a space with Ashby.”
    I raised my eyebrows. “Shares? I didn’t think we went for roomies.”
    Thornell gave me a good-natured shrug. “I don’t, but he does. It’s company, I guess. Rumor is the kid reminds Frank of someone, maybe a younger brother.”
    â€œKid?”
    â€œOh, yeah, yeah. Ashby’s a juvie. They tried him as an adult for shooting a cop with his own gun during a convenience-store robbery.”
    Having been a detective means I heard a lot of the local RAR stories. This one rang a bell because it sucked so much. “Right. Didn’t bother with ballistics, then found out the cop’s gun misfired. He’d accidentally shot himself. Hey, I do remember things sometimes.”
    â€œGood for you,” Thornell said. “Good for Boyle, too, I guess. Hope he stays. This whole thing was his idea. He’s one of the smart ones. We don’t have many.”
    That bit of news lowered my threat level from panicked to anxious. Not only was Boyle here, but we’d be able to talk to him. I nudged Turgeon, but he didn’t look as happy as I thought he should. He was probably still thinking about the hakkers.
    Thornell looked over his shoulder at the smoldering car fire. “Better get back to my spot. Whatever business you’ve got with Frank, be quick.”
    He trudged off, calling the names of a few stragglers. Some tripped, bumped into one another, backed up, and bumped into one another again.
    The smart ones are pretty rare. It must have taken hours for them to set that trap up.
    Turgeon still seemed out of it, so I said, “We could come back in the morning.”
    Stunned as he was, he shook his head no. Right answer. One, we were too close to give up now, and two, by morning, after the hakker attack, Boyle might not be one of the smart ones anymore.
    I didn’t feel good about leaving the Humvee behind, but the smoldering car was blocking the road. Pointing the flashlight at the broken asphalt, I nodded for Turgeon to follow. He stayed so close behind me, if I so much as slowed down, he’d smack into me. I had to tell him twice to give me some space.
    Like the dead, the place had yet to be completely reclaimed by nature. We made our way along a concrete path shattered and cracked a thousand times by years, neglect, and pretty thick weeds. Whenever we passed some chakz, they’d moan, not stopping until I pointed the light up at my kisser and mentioned Thornell. Then they cursed us out.
    Admin was a smaller building sitting to the right of the massive factory, the upscale Bedland neighborhood, compared to the middle-class factory and the makeshift shelter ghetto. By the time we reached it, all the fires inside had gone out, leaving the place as pitch-black as it gets.
    Back when I lived here, I’d managed a spot in the factory, but admin was where I’d want to hole up in case of attack. The concrete walls were so thick and strong, they seemed smug. The windows were tall and narrow, more for light than air, not wide enough for a man to pass through. The only spot that might be vulnerable was the front entrance.
    Still, even as we walked up to it I couldn’t see inside. The dirt on the glass doors was so thick it sent the flashlight beam bouncing back empty-handed. There could be an army or a toy store in there and I wouldn’t know until it was too late. Good for Boyle. If he was really lucky there’d be a rear entrance and a basement.
    Turgeon was getting too close again. I put a hand back to restore some distance, then pushed the door open with my foot. It swung in noiselessly. Someone kept the hinges oiled.
    I turned the beam to the four corners and crept into the tomblike reception area. It was surprisingly intact, with a front desk, still-life paintings on the wall, and one or two plastic potted plants. There was a big cracked