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.If we don’t call the police, we’ll get tracked down and ripped up into dog meat like this.’Marta went to the sofa and sat down next to Switch.She leaned close to him, and felt his hand go over hers.She looked at him but his eyes were on the bodies.In his other hand he held Dreggo’s throwing knife, his only comfort.She noticed a slight sheen in his eyes that on any other occasion would have surprised her but as her own choking despair welled up again she realised that some situations went to a new level, sucking even the hardest of people into the darkness.‘I don’t want to die, Switch,’ she said, in a soft voice.‘I don’t want to end up like that.’He nodded.‘Shit, no.We have to run.All of us.You know this was a Huntsman, yeah? You can see what those motherfuckers can do.They can track like bastards, too.It will find us unless we haul ass the fuck out of here right now.’Marta closed her eyes.‘And I thought the Cross Jumpers were bad.’‘We need to wise up.In some ways we’re lucky it was a Huntsman.Those DCA chumps would have left a guard behind in case we came back.The Huntsmen don’t work like that.They’re tracking, killing machines.It followed her scent back here, found her parents.The scent was obviously similar enough to make it kill them, or else the Huntsman got pissed off about something.’‘How did it get here, Switch? How did it do it?’He looked at her, and she saw something there that surprised her: an unflinching graveness.When he spoke the sudden maturity in his voice was unnerving, as though the Switch she knew was gone forever, his body possessed by some long-dead military commander.‘Huntsmen can follow a scent anywhere,’ he said.‘Even one that’s weeks old or left by someone moving at speed.They have an enhanced sense of smell, partly animal, and partly computerized.They hunt day and night until they find what they want.Then they kill it.’‘How do you know this?’‘I asked people, anyone I ever met who knew anything.I always figured the day would come when I might get into more trouble than petty crime.I killed a man today, and that wasn’t the first time.I always figured there might be a time when I’d have one of those hybrid pieces of shit come after me.’ He shrugged.‘The only way to beat your enemies is to know them better than they know you.’‘Where can we go? Where can we hide?’‘We have to leave London.’Marta stared at him.‘That’s impossible.How?’‘We’ll go down to St.Cannerwells, wait for one of the freight trains and ride it right out of London.I have an uncle in Bristol GUA who might help us.If he’s still alive.But we can’t waste time.We have to go tonight.’‘Is it wise to go back to St.Cannerwells?’‘They’ll have found it by now, if they’ve sent a Huntsman.It’s the last place they’ll expect us to go back to.After all, it’s just an abandoned London Underground station.The DCA will assume we’ll head for the perimeter walls, try to find a way through the gates, but Huntsmen don’t work like normal police because they’re partly animal.They follow a trail and run down their prey.If we can keep ahead of them we’ll have a chance.St.Cannerwells, back at the start of our trail, could be the safest place for us.’ Then, as though to remind her of the man she knew so well, he added, ‘Fuck, this sucks ass.’Marta sighed.Tears clung to her cheeks.‘How can we escape from a Huntsman?’‘From what I’ve heard of them, they’re kind of junk.They don’t work properly, keep fucking up and going haywire.We have to keep our eyes open, watch for them coming.Stay out in the open.’‘What if it’s still here?’Despite everything, Switch actually laughed.‘The Huntsmen don’t do stealth, Marta, at least not that I heard.If one was here we would be fucking mincemeat by now.’Paul stepped into the room, and Marta knew he’d been listening.His face was grey, his glasses steamed up.He’d been crying too, and there was a dried crust of saliva around his chin from where he’d been vomiting.‘I have to find my brother,’ he said, voice stony.If a Huntsman really is after us like you say, I have to get to Owen before they follow my trail back to him.He might already be dead for all I know.’Marta nodded.‘We should split up, spread the trails and just hope they’ve only sent one.Go home, grab what you can and hope it’s not too late.We’ll meet in St.Cannerwells at midnight, and do what Switch says.Take the first train we can out of this shit fucking city.’‘Jess won’t leave.’ Simon stood in the doorway.‘She has to,’ Marta said.Simon’s face was drawn, his words heavy on his tongue.‘She says.she wants nothing to do with us.She blames us, she says she wants us all to leave, me included.I don’t know.don’t know what.’ he trailed off.As the others watched, he ran one hand through his hair and rubbed his face.Then he slid to the ground as though someone was sucking the air out of him from the bottom up.Crouched in the doorway, he said, ‘If I hadn’t taken her there.if I hadn’t made her come.’Paul said, ‘What about the camera?’Simon opened his hand.On his palm was a tiny memory card.‘She threw it at me.Told me.fuck, I don’t know.’ He looked down, shaking his head.Marta stood up.‘She wanted to go, don’t forget that.She told you she wanted to do it, so stop blaming yourself!’ She looked around, hands clenched into fists.‘This isn’t our fault, we didn’t want any of this to happen.Jess’s parents are dead because this country is screwed up.We’re the victims, not the criminals, and we owe it to Jess’s parents, and, and.to this whole damn country to get that evidence into the hands of people who can do something about it.’ She flapped her hands, her face flushed.Switch stood up beside her.‘Well, it wasn’t quite Che fucking Guevara but it wasn’t bad.’Marta took a deep breath, readying herself to continue.‘Let’s get this straight,’ she said.‘We have some very, very dangerous people after us.We run, or we die.It’s that simple.Now, Simon, get up there and get her moving.We have no idea how many of those things are after us.Maybe one, maybe more.If we split up we can spread the trail, keep them confused.Move quickly and don’t stay anywhere too long.Keep away from enclosed places and don’t travel unarmed.’‘What good is a knife or a club against something that does that?’ Paul said, nodding towards the bodies.‘It’s better than no knife or no club.’Simon climbed to his feet.‘Okay,’ he said.‘I’ll do what I can.’Marta glanced at a clock on the wall.‘It’s nearly six o’clock,’ she said.‘We leave at midnight.Simon, you have to convince her.You have to.Otherwise she’s going to end up like them.’ She didn’t need to point.They went to the front door and peered out on to the street.Street-lighting made a broken line back the way they’d come, while above them the sky was dark purple, wisps of orange and red hanging above the rooftops that stretched away towards the spires and office towers of central London.Marta thought it looked pretty, but she couldn’t shake a hollow feeling in her chest that night had never been so bleak, had never contained so many demons before.Chapter EighteenDangerNumb.Like dead hands gripping every inch of her body and squeezing until her skin turned blue and cold.Hands manipulating her, molding her, kneading her flesh into one single amorphous ball, devoid of all sensation and feeling.And from it her eyes looked out, staring but not seeing the walls, the prints and the posters that hung there, the photographs of friends, of her family.The shelf in the corner, the books [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl matkasanepid.xlx.pl
.If we don’t call the police, we’ll get tracked down and ripped up into dog meat like this.’Marta went to the sofa and sat down next to Switch.She leaned close to him, and felt his hand go over hers.She looked at him but his eyes were on the bodies.In his other hand he held Dreggo’s throwing knife, his only comfort.She noticed a slight sheen in his eyes that on any other occasion would have surprised her but as her own choking despair welled up again she realised that some situations went to a new level, sucking even the hardest of people into the darkness.‘I don’t want to die, Switch,’ she said, in a soft voice.‘I don’t want to end up like that.’He nodded.‘Shit, no.We have to run.All of us.You know this was a Huntsman, yeah? You can see what those motherfuckers can do.They can track like bastards, too.It will find us unless we haul ass the fuck out of here right now.’Marta closed her eyes.‘And I thought the Cross Jumpers were bad.’‘We need to wise up.In some ways we’re lucky it was a Huntsman.Those DCA chumps would have left a guard behind in case we came back.The Huntsmen don’t work like that.They’re tracking, killing machines.It followed her scent back here, found her parents.The scent was obviously similar enough to make it kill them, or else the Huntsman got pissed off about something.’‘How did it get here, Switch? How did it do it?’He looked at her, and she saw something there that surprised her: an unflinching graveness.When he spoke the sudden maturity in his voice was unnerving, as though the Switch she knew was gone forever, his body possessed by some long-dead military commander.‘Huntsmen can follow a scent anywhere,’ he said.‘Even one that’s weeks old or left by someone moving at speed.They have an enhanced sense of smell, partly animal, and partly computerized.They hunt day and night until they find what they want.Then they kill it.’‘How do you know this?’‘I asked people, anyone I ever met who knew anything.I always figured the day would come when I might get into more trouble than petty crime.I killed a man today, and that wasn’t the first time.I always figured there might be a time when I’d have one of those hybrid pieces of shit come after me.’ He shrugged.‘The only way to beat your enemies is to know them better than they know you.’‘Where can we go? Where can we hide?’‘We have to leave London.’Marta stared at him.‘That’s impossible.How?’‘We’ll go down to St.Cannerwells, wait for one of the freight trains and ride it right out of London.I have an uncle in Bristol GUA who might help us.If he’s still alive.But we can’t waste time.We have to go tonight.’‘Is it wise to go back to St.Cannerwells?’‘They’ll have found it by now, if they’ve sent a Huntsman.It’s the last place they’ll expect us to go back to.After all, it’s just an abandoned London Underground station.The DCA will assume we’ll head for the perimeter walls, try to find a way through the gates, but Huntsmen don’t work like normal police because they’re partly animal.They follow a trail and run down their prey.If we can keep ahead of them we’ll have a chance.St.Cannerwells, back at the start of our trail, could be the safest place for us.’ Then, as though to remind her of the man she knew so well, he added, ‘Fuck, this sucks ass.’Marta sighed.Tears clung to her cheeks.‘How can we escape from a Huntsman?’‘From what I’ve heard of them, they’re kind of junk.They don’t work properly, keep fucking up and going haywire.We have to keep our eyes open, watch for them coming.Stay out in the open.’‘What if it’s still here?’Despite everything, Switch actually laughed.‘The Huntsmen don’t do stealth, Marta, at least not that I heard.If one was here we would be fucking mincemeat by now.’Paul stepped into the room, and Marta knew he’d been listening.His face was grey, his glasses steamed up.He’d been crying too, and there was a dried crust of saliva around his chin from where he’d been vomiting.‘I have to find my brother,’ he said, voice stony.If a Huntsman really is after us like you say, I have to get to Owen before they follow my trail back to him.He might already be dead for all I know.’Marta nodded.‘We should split up, spread the trails and just hope they’ve only sent one.Go home, grab what you can and hope it’s not too late.We’ll meet in St.Cannerwells at midnight, and do what Switch says.Take the first train we can out of this shit fucking city.’‘Jess won’t leave.’ Simon stood in the doorway.‘She has to,’ Marta said.Simon’s face was drawn, his words heavy on his tongue.‘She says.she wants nothing to do with us.She blames us, she says she wants us all to leave, me included.I don’t know.don’t know what.’ he trailed off.As the others watched, he ran one hand through his hair and rubbed his face.Then he slid to the ground as though someone was sucking the air out of him from the bottom up.Crouched in the doorway, he said, ‘If I hadn’t taken her there.if I hadn’t made her come.’Paul said, ‘What about the camera?’Simon opened his hand.On his palm was a tiny memory card.‘She threw it at me.Told me.fuck, I don’t know.’ He looked down, shaking his head.Marta stood up.‘She wanted to go, don’t forget that.She told you she wanted to do it, so stop blaming yourself!’ She looked around, hands clenched into fists.‘This isn’t our fault, we didn’t want any of this to happen.Jess’s parents are dead because this country is screwed up.We’re the victims, not the criminals, and we owe it to Jess’s parents, and, and.to this whole damn country to get that evidence into the hands of people who can do something about it.’ She flapped her hands, her face flushed.Switch stood up beside her.‘Well, it wasn’t quite Che fucking Guevara but it wasn’t bad.’Marta took a deep breath, readying herself to continue.‘Let’s get this straight,’ she said.‘We have some very, very dangerous people after us.We run, or we die.It’s that simple.Now, Simon, get up there and get her moving.We have no idea how many of those things are after us.Maybe one, maybe more.If we split up we can spread the trail, keep them confused.Move quickly and don’t stay anywhere too long.Keep away from enclosed places and don’t travel unarmed.’‘What good is a knife or a club against something that does that?’ Paul said, nodding towards the bodies.‘It’s better than no knife or no club.’Simon climbed to his feet.‘Okay,’ he said.‘I’ll do what I can.’Marta glanced at a clock on the wall.‘It’s nearly six o’clock,’ she said.‘We leave at midnight.Simon, you have to convince her.You have to.Otherwise she’s going to end up like them.’ She didn’t need to point.They went to the front door and peered out on to the street.Street-lighting made a broken line back the way they’d come, while above them the sky was dark purple, wisps of orange and red hanging above the rooftops that stretched away towards the spires and office towers of central London.Marta thought it looked pretty, but she couldn’t shake a hollow feeling in her chest that night had never been so bleak, had never contained so many demons before.Chapter EighteenDangerNumb.Like dead hands gripping every inch of her body and squeezing until her skin turned blue and cold.Hands manipulating her, molding her, kneading her flesh into one single amorphous ball, devoid of all sensation and feeling.And from it her eyes looked out, staring but not seeing the walls, the prints and the posters that hung there, the photographs of friends, of her family.The shelf in the corner, the books [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]