This Machine Kills by Steve Liszka Read Free Book Online Page B

team are you Sarge?” Rudy asked, undeterred by Spike’s attempts at distraction.
       Taylor shook his head, “No Rudy, I’m not.”
        He had wondered how long it would take his sparring partner to get back to his old self.
       “Then what’s more important than toasting a man who died serving beneath you?”
       Taylor sighed, “If you must know, I’ve got to go and tell Rogers’ wife and kid that he won’t be coming home tonight.”
       He picked up his bag and headed for the door, feeling guilty that his last comment would hang in the room like a bad smell.
       “I’ll see you all in a few days,” he said, grateful in the knowledge that his tour of duty had finally ended.
     
       As he walked down the corridor, Taylor heard heavy footsteps chasing him. He turned to see Spike approaching; he was red-faced and breathing heavily.
       “Thanks for walking so fast,” Spike panted when he finally caught his breath, “now I’m going to need another shower when I get home.” 
       Taylor laughed, “Have you ever considered exercising?”
       Spike wiped the sweat from his forehead, “Nah, fuck that man, exercise will kill you, take my word for it.”
       If there was anyone who shouldn’t have been working in the security forces it was Spike. He was lazy, undisciplined (he often arrived late for duty with egg yolk or other food stuff staining the front of his uniform) and hated all forms of violence. Unfortunately for him he also had a terminal gambling addiction. When the debts he ran up lost him his wife, job and home, it was only his heavy goods vehicle licence that got him a driver’s post with SecForce and prevented him being permanently expelled to the Old-Town.
       “Listen boss, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job…”
       It was how Spike always began when he wanted to tell Taylor how to do his job.
       “I know they’re assholes an’ all but don’t cut yourself off from the team. Look at what happened today for fuck’s sake. You need to trust the man watching your back.”
       “I know that Spike, but Rogers was one of my guys, its up to me to tell his wife before she hears it elsewhere.”
       He was referring to the newsbites. Taylor knew it wouldn’t be long before Rogers’ face was plastered all over them, his death further terrifying the City’s inhabitants.
       Spike shook his head and sighed,  “All the fucking cocksuckers they could have chosen from and they had to get him. Life really ain’t fair is it boss?”
       Taylor shrugged, “It’s not about fair, shit like this just comes down to luck. A gambling man like yourself should know that better than anyone.”
        “Yeah,” Spike laughed, “me and luck are well acquainted.” 
        “It’s a damn shame though,” Taylor sighed, “took me six months to get the team back to full strength and then this happens.”
       Spike smiled, “Looks like you’ve got to go begging to Mason again.” 
       Taylor’s team had been a man down since Goldman’s freak accident. The team had been calming down a minor skirmish at a food queue when the teargas grenade he was holding went off. As he had lost his trigger finger and thumb there had been no choice but to retire him on ill-health.  There were rumours it had been done on purpose as a means to gain a pay-out for his family. It wouldn’t have surprised Taylor; Goldman was an edgy fucker who should never have been operational in the first place. The first thing he had done upon retiring was up sticks and move to Ocean City; the only one still left on the coast. Taylor imagined him lying on the beach; a cocktail glass in his mutilated hand.
       He took a fifty out of his wallet and pressed it into Spike’s hand, “Get the first round on me, hopefully they’re shallow enough that I can still buy their affections.”
       Spike inspected the note, “It can only work in your favour, although I’m sure a hundred