Free Radical by Shamus Young Read Free Book Online Page B

a question of how he would escape, but how far he would get before they brought him down. This gave him a kind of sick desperation that fueled him onward. He was no longer running for his life - he was already dead. Instead, he was running out of spite, out of sheer stubbornness and vengeance. They were going to get him, and he was going to make them work for it. He was going to see how far he could get before they stopped him. Nescio had been right after all.
    He decided to shed some of the extra weight that had been dragging on his suit. He pulled out the UIU and tossed it. He dumped the useless TriOp vox he had been lugging all over the building for no apparent reason. He dumped the two police vox units he had picked up several minutes earlier. He dropped the few spare parts he always carried for his rig, his duct tape, and a couple of blank phones.
    He looked at his reel of fiberline and and decided to keep it. Just in case. The same went for his knife. Both of them were fairly light anyway.
    Deck considered the gun. It was heavier than anything else he had dumped, but it also had the potential to let him last a bit longer. He didn't have any spare ammunition for it. He decided he would keep it until it ran dry.
    Deck looked at the pile of junk on the floor and realized he hadn't tried the police vox.. Shaking his head in disbelief, he picked one up and switched it on.
    "Floors thirty-four and thirty-five clear. Starting our run on thirty-two and thirty-three."
    "Roger that."
    Deck smiled. He couldn't tell who was talking, but he would at least know what was going on. Somebody was obviously just a few floors above him. He wondered if he should try to double-back to floor thirty-four now that they thought it was clear.
    He stood up straight and paced back and fourth. His hip was really stiffening up. He needed to get moving while he could still run. His breathing had almost returned to normal, and his vision had improved slightly.
    He took the vox and clipped it to his shoulder.
    "Floors thirty-two and thirty-three clear"
    What the hell? How had they swept two entire levels that fast? Perhaps there were multiple teams of units on multiple floors...
    "Beginning sweep of twenty-nine and thirty"
    Deck hesitated. How were they "sweeping" the levels? The stairwell was empty and he hadn't heard anyone above or below him changing floors.
    "Base?"
    "Go ahead."
    "You have anyone in the south stairway on thirty?"
    "Negative."
    Deck's eyes widened.
    "Then I've got him."
    "Acknowledged. We have a team en route. Which way is he heading?"
    "He's not, the target is stationary."
    Deck lunged down the stairs.
    "Whoa! Target is moving now... heading down."
    "Roger that."
    Deck hit the landing for level twenty-nine.
    "Passing twenty-nine... still going down. It looks like someone must have nailed him. He's limping badly. I'm still with him... passing twenty-eight... twenty-seven..."
    Deck continued his descent while the voice continued to broadcast his every move. He had no idea who or what was watching him. There were clearly no cameras in the stairwell, so it must have been someone on the outside.
    "Okay, our men are on level twenty. Heading for the south stairwell."
    Deck hit the landing for floor twenty-three.
    "Better hurry, he's moving fast."
    Deck cursed the unseen voice. Who was it? Where were they? How were they watching him?
    "Roger that. Almost there."
    Deck hit twenty-two.
    "Gonna be close. Target just passed twenty-two."
    Screw it, Deck thought. If he was going to have a crowd bust in on him, he was going out with a bang. He slipped the grenade out of his pocket and held it in his right hand, ready to go. He was jumping most of the stairs now, despite the explosion of pain he experienced every time he landed. He passed the door for floor twenty-one.
    "Here he comes."
    He hit level twenty and kept going. His legs were in agony. His lungs burned. Tears streamed down his cheeks again.
    As he rounded the corner, the door above