Terraplane by Jack Womack Read Free Book Online Page B

unshattered. Dunes accumulated at building corners where concrete devolved into sand.
There'd once been trees; rotting stumps remained, the rest
recycled into cold night's fuel. We rolled downstreet sans sound
within or without, past residents' dead stares. Children at play
scrambled over those rust red cars, yanked rodents' tails to hear the
squeak; women indistinguishable from potato sacks squatted beside
building entrances. Groups of men huddled over trash fires. All
but the children were drunk. Russians, no matter the prohibitions,
drank alcohol as they breathed air. As those of Skuratov's class guzzed beverages suited to their status, so these citizens surely
poured down their raw throats formaldehyde, eau de cologne,
varnish and liquid heat. Jake slipped his phones from his head, his
attention seized. I supposed that he suddenly felt more at home.

    "How close?"
    "We are on Raisa now," said Skuratov, eyeing his own tracker,
"and she is but a short ways further. " The beep began, a steady
pulse. Jake readied. Between two eight-story hulks I robbed a
glimpse of the center's faraway spires and pastel domes, hazed soft
in morningshade.
    "Locals' interaction expected?" fake asked.
    "None should harangue," said Skuratov. "Fine car such as mine
can belong only to high Krasnaya member, or so they will fear.
Therefore they understand not to give hands-on treatment in
untoward manner." From undercoat he drew a slim black Shrogin
machine pistol, an item impossible to procure at any level. "But if
podonki approach my crowdtickler will hush them. Jake, be fully
prepared. These people very temperamental around those they
unavoidably see as their betters."
    Raisa Row's two-story structures held separate entrances for each
flat. Littered mud served as yard, parking lot and playground.
"Destination reached," said the car; he cut the motor. People faded
into the buildings' dark. Skuratov's fears, as suspected, overblew;
I'd sized all surrounding as too nubworn to offer threat.
    "She is on ground floor rear of right-hand unit. Proceed without
rush around side yard. Keep weapons always visible. Pause at
corner to await signal. Once signaled, approach door. Wait. Count
three." He unclicked his gun's safety. "Hop in, showing big
smiles."
    When we decarred we were all nearly muckered flat by the
smell, an inescapable blend of bathroom and grave that not even
frozen air subdued. The locals, eyeing our ordnance, scattered like
roaches in sudden light. Skuratov led, moving as if twotoned feet
barely scraped the ground. Midway across I stepped wrong,
squashing a teddy bear lying unburied amidst debris. The neighborhood children were rich with imagination beyond their years;
the bear's eye sockets stared blindly towards the sky, its tummy was slashed open and degutted in amateur's autopsy. America's touch
showed in every land.

    "Her windows," Skuratov whispered, motioning at cornerside to
a pair of draped eyes. Gray clouds drew across the sky as a front
neared; we threw no shadows over the terrain. He pointed us
ahead, and we edged over, skirting the building's wall, Jake now
heading our line.
    "One," Skuratov murmured, "two-"
    Before the last number came, before my next breath passed, I
noticed the door's ajarness as a scream rang within. Jake-no bullet
flew faster.

    "CAREFUL.," I SAID, AS IF'1'O OFFER ADVICE, BUT JAKE WAS DONE
before we'd crossed the threshold. Skuratov bore the vision better
than I'd have guessed, seeing Jake slash away, tearing the man's
flesh as his burlap and polymer clothes were already torn; Jake
doublelooped his chain within his hand to attain double result.
    "Jake!" I said. "Enough's enough. Step away"
    Airborne, he came down heels-first upon the interloper's head,
completing his task; stepping off of his leavings, he began his
descent into calm. I sensed adrenaline's vibrations pulsing through
his slim frame. Sucking down a long breath, he stood silent, letting
temper