Falling by Debbie Moon Read Free Book Online Page B

life, the same drive –’
    â€˜Schrader, if you’re trying to get inside my pants, forget it.’
    Utterly unembarrassed, Schrader smiled. ‘Get with the technology, Jude. I can always have the same operation your girlfriend had.’
    He was a tall man and well built; it took all her strength to swing him round and slam him against the bridge railings. But he wasn’t ready and, before he could react, Jude had his wrists pinned against the handrail and was screaming into his face, ‘You heap of shit, Schrader, you keep your nose out of my –’
    On the banks of the Serpentine, clearly visible through the metalwork, a tragedy was three seconds away from happening.
    â€˜â€“ business.’
    Three steps from the edge of the river, a woman was running. There were people running after her; two, perhaps three, using the loose and scattered groups of bystanders as cover. Another domestic incident, and there had probably been a dozen far worse already. Any minute now, some stallholder’s bodyguard would intervene. Violence had a way of escalating and violence was bad for business. There’d be some shouting, the auburn-haired woman would flounce off in a fury, yelling that it was all a misunderstanding, they’d fade back into the crowd and everyone would go back to buying and selling and stealing –
    Only this time, it wasn’t going to happen.
    Jude could feel it. The way you did sometimes when you went back to a major crisis point; the death of a great leader, the small print of a vital promise, one of those rare and tiny moments that makes or unmakes a world. The way you did when the world split in two and on one side, the future you remembered, on the other, a future you never imagined possible. A future as easy and familiar where everything is new and strange as your own breathing a future where this never happened, where this terrible running stranger is a Woman of Importance No Importance At All if only I could just remember that.
    Jude blinked.
    Worming free from her grasp, Schrader stepped sideways, his face creased with concern. ‘What the hell’s wrong with you, DiMortimer?’
    â€˜There,’ she whispered. ‘Down there.’
    Following her stare, he turned.
    Down by the Serpentine, the running woman veered aside from an on-coming couple, turning towards the river. And in this reality, the grass is dry And in this? Wet grass, treacherous. She can catch herself and turn shoes, who knows the cause, but and sprint away up the bank either way –
    She slipped.
    Too close to the edge, too close to turn, to jump, and too far away for anyone to help her. Off balance, she threw out one hand to break her fall; but there was only the river behind her, and her outstretched arm hit water, then mud, then the solid crust.
    The crust cracked beneath her, and she went under. Four feet of waste down, half a century of illegal dumping and blind eyes turned. The SoftGreens had managed to lock it away under a chemical-sustained crust, and a little clean water ran over the top, giving the shallow illusion of normality. But down below…
    The woman’s legs spasmed once and sank, sucked under the heaving, bubbling mud. It was shallow enough for her to stand up and walk back out again. But she wouldn’t. One breath, one mouthful, one splash of that…
    The only way for Jude to escape it was to close her eyes, but that didn’t help, just fixed the memory like a photograph in her head.
    And when she opened them again, Schrader was staring at her, like he couldn’t see what all the fuss was about.
    â€˜You have to ReTrace,’ Jude blurted, ‘and rescue her.’
    â€˜For God’s sake, keep your voice down!’ He glanced up and down the deserted bridge, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘A lot of these Luddite fanatics think we’re servants of the devil or something. I don’t think we should be advertising