This Machine Kills by Steve Liszka Read Free Book Online

approached Lennox and rested his hand on his shoulder,
       “If I remember right it was you who was breathing out of your ass on top of that pile of rocks today. You did fine kid,” he winked at Doyle then headed towards his locker.
       “My cardio may not be great,” Lennox justified himself to Doyle, “but there’s no one in the unit who can lift as much weight as I can. Ain’t that right Skinner?”
       Skinner nodded solemnly.
       “You know what that is, don’t you Lennox?” Spike shouted from the shower, “Mong strength, all retards have got it.”
      Lennox’s brain worked overtime as it searched for the response that never materialised.
       Standing next to each other with only their towels wrapped around them, it was possible to see just how big the two Goliaths of the team really were. Although broader, Lennox was at least six inches shorter than Skinner and much stockier in build. He had the shape of an Olympic power-lifter.
      Skinner however, looked more like a body builder, his frame packed with watery, bloated muscle. The huge veins that ran the length of his biceps were almost as thick as a man’s finger. Without his armour on, the full extent of his body art became evident. The patterning on his arms continued up his chest and right the way down his massive back; the result of many hours under the needle. But even combined with his deep brown tan, the tattoos could not disguise the painful-looking acne covering his body and the shallow, pitted scars that had once been the same thing. These were the result of years of cheap steroid abuse that had helped him gain the look he’d craved so badly.
       Leaving the showers, Taylor walked past the men and headed towards the lockers where he was met by the sight of Rudy buttoning up his jeans. His face may have been weathered, but Rudy’s body could easily have been that of a man half his age. Even though he smoked like a chimney and Taylor had never seen him take part in any form of exercise, Rudy’s slim, sinewy physique looked like it belonged to a man who had spent his life digging ditches and carrying out other tasks of hard labour. Minor lacerations that Rudy paid no attention to, now peppered his face and body. Taylor had been lucky, with the exception of a dull ache in his back, he had escaped the explosion injury-free.
       “You know what that shit reminded me of?” Rudy half-whispered so only Taylor could hear him.
      The usual vitriol he spoke to him with had disappeared. This was a very different Rudy from the one who had spent the morning antagonising his superior.
       “The fucking Uprisings,” he said, not waiting for Taylor to answer.
       Taylor patted himself dry with his towel, “Except there were thousands of them then, not just two.”
       “That’s not what I meant,” Rudy went on, “it was the way that crazy  bitch was willing to kill herself just to take a few of us out. It was how those assholes who followed Billy Nothing used to act.”
       “Yeah,” Taylor agreed, willing to bow to Rudy’s superior knowledge on the subject. Those things had taken place before he and his friends had signed up for SecForce. In fact, it was the Uprisings that led to Taylor leaving the Old-Town and permanently moving to the City. For that, he would always be grateful to them.
       Rudy ran a comb through his thick, grey hair, “You think this shit’s going to start getting heavy again?”
       “If they were going to try something,” Taylor answered, “they should have done it before the wall was up. It’s too late now for heroics.”
       “Let’s hope so. If Rogers was right about SecForce keeping us on, I’m looking forward to earning my money the easy way.”
       Taylor looked around the room for eavesdroppers, “Well it’s not like we don’t deserve a bit of down-time, you boys have had to take more shit than most.”
       Rudy pushed his locker closed, “Perhaps they’ll give us the