Ghosts of War by George Mann Read Free Book Online Page B

hilt.
    The man screamed and struck out with the butt of his gun, clubbing Rutherford hard across the side of the head. Rutherford staggered back, dazed, refusing to let go of the penknife and ripping it out of the man's arm in the process, causing blood to fountain up out of the wound. The man let off another shot, but his aim was wide and Rutherford easily avoided it, leaping out through the open door into the hall.
    He didn't have time to scramble for the weapons in the other room, however, as moments later the dark-haired man was rushing him, pistol-whipping him hard across the face with the revolver. Rutherford cried out, dropping to his knees, spitting blood. Blindly he punched up, striking the man squarely in the balls.
    The man doubled over, and Rutherford, lights dancing before his eyes, repeated the motion, this time burying his fist in the man's gut, causing him to drop his weapon and stagger back a pace, gasping for breath.
    Rutherford stood, his back against the wall.
    Then the man was rushing him again, and it was all Rutherford could do to get his arms up in defense. He jabbed out savagely with the penknife, still clutched in his right fist, roaring in sheer, unadulterated rage. To his satisfaction he caught the man brutally in the face, burying the blade in his left eye.
    The result was almost instantaneous. The man slumped, his knees giving way, and then dropped to the floor, an inanimate sack of bones.
    Rutherford, his back still to the wall, slid to the floor beside the body, panting for breath.
    A minute passed, maybe longer. Rutherford felt numb, dazed. He was bleeding from a severe gash in his cheek where he'd been struck by the butt of the gun. His hands were trembling. In the other room, through the crack in the doorway, he could see the holotube terminal smoldering on the carpet, fizzing and popping as the electrics burnt out.
    Beside him, on the floor, surrounded by a growing pool of dark, glossy blood, the corpse stared up at him accusingly. The man was—had been—in his early thirties. He was swarthy and good-looking, muscular and fit. His chin was encrusted with stubble. Blood now ran freely from his nose and his slack-jawed mouth, and the penknife still jutted rudely from his left eye. The eye itself had burst, and optic fluid trickled down his cheek.
    Gingerly, Rutherford leaned forward and searched the man's pockets. The man was clearly a professional. No identification papers, no handwritten notes, no jewelry. Just a thick wad of ten-dollar bills and a packet containing a few sticks of gum. Rutherford pocketed both of these.
    Then, unsure what else to do but unable to hang around in his compromised bolt-hole any longer, he gathered a change of clothes, some more cash, a gun and some ammunition, and got away from there as quickly as he could, leaving the dead man where he had fallen, bleeding out all over the carpet.

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    T he Ghost stood on the roof of the precinct building, gazing out over the thronging streets of the city.
    This was his city. The city he had sworn to protect. The city that permeated the very fabric of his being, that coursed through his veins, an immutable part of his psyche. The Ghost was the city rendered flesh. He was its avatar, its judge, jury, and executioner. It was as if the city imbued him with energy, woke him from the slumber of his daily routines, gave him purpose, meaning. Gave him a reason to exist.
    In return, the Ghost watched, and waited; a silent sentinel, ready to stir into action when the city needed him.
    Now, he was poised like a statue on the corner of the police building, his trench coat billowing around him in the gusting winds. A cigarette dripped from his lower lip, and his goggles glowed like red pinpricks in the darkness as he turned his head, surveying the passing cars on the street below. Searching for signs of the raptors, striking out from their nest to wreak havoc once more upon the citizens below. Searching for danger, for