BACKTRACKER by Milo Fowler (books to read in your 30s TXT) 📗

an end to the Link and its myriad addictions?

"How's that working for you?" Armstrong said.

"We live as the humans of old," Kuan replied, but hisvoice sounded lifeless. "My mind is my own."

"Yeah." The captain sniffed, braking suddenly andsending Kuan against the back of the passenger seat. He scrambled to keep theboy from sliding onto the floor. "I'm not much for conspiracy theories,but I've often considered how easy it would be to take over the world with theright Link-based mind control." He killed the engine. "Good thingthose geeks over at Alpha Geminorum monitor everything as closely as theydo." His right hand closed on the double-barreled shotgun mounted belowthe dashboard as his door drifted upward. "We're here."

Kuan glanced outside. In the middle of the moonlit sidewalk,there lay what looked like a portal to the subway system below. But it had notbeen used as such in quite some time. Remnants of caution tape fluttered in thecold breeze. Graffiti in all shapes and sizes, along with foul obscenities,adorned the walls leading down. Warnings to leave the Underground-dwellers to themselves.

He reached under Harry's arms and knees and drew him close,removing him from the backseat.

"Think that's a good idea?" Armstrong said.

"I will not leave him." We must cross overtogether.

The captain shrugged. "Stay close." He gazed up at theshattered streetlamps. The surveillance cameras lay in pieces across theasphalt. "Smart," he mused. Then he dug into one of the deep pockets in his blackcoat. "Here. Put these on. You'll need 'em."

With a quizzical frown, Kuan took the rubber goggles extendedtoward him.

"Dark as hell down there, from what I recall." Thecaptain grit his teeth. "All right. Let's do this." His boots thumpedforward with heavy, sure strides.

Kuan followed, hesitating at the top of the stairs. He peereddown, unable to see past the first flight. After that, it was all impenetrableblack that hissed of death and reeked of untreated sewage. The frayed andtwisted caution tape seemed to creep of its own volition along the grey wallsflanking the stairs. A mere subway portal, but one that held the line betweentwo very different worlds.

The captain tugged his goggles into place and dropped down onestep at a time, shotgun gripped at the ready. Kuan followed his example, andthe instant the lenses corrected his eyesight, the darkness lifted, becoming astrange, luminous grey in every direction.

"Best if we keep a low profile while we're down here. The residentsaren't the most hospitable."

"How so?"

"I was on a special task force a decade or so back. Orderedto clear out thedegenerates that live down here."

"I assume that undertaking did not go as planned."

"You could say that. Only a handful of us survived. We cameback hard, with more men, more guns. But the creeps decided to vanish on us atthat point. So many twists and turns down here, and they keep on tunneling.Like moles or ants or something."

"So you gave up?"

"The governor decided that holding the perimeter was a win.Those freaks don't go topside, and we leave them in hell. Just the way theylike it." The captain cleared his throat. "Half a klick—that's whereLennox bit the dust, according to his plug. Crazy, huh? The thing broadcasts his demiseas soon as his heart stops. Lifestyles of therich and infamous."

"Have the authorities already claimed the body?" Kuan whispered. And taken his personal effects?

"We'll be first on the scene. Nobody ventures down here.Nobody in their right mind, anyway." He stifled a chuckle. "Besidesyou and me."

An old man lay crumpled in the corner, just beyond the foot of thestairs. Not breathing, covered in blood from a devastating chest wound. HadLennox been the cause of this death? Or had it been the white man with him, orthe woman? All of them seemed dangerous.

The captain knelt to check the jugular vein on the dead man'shairy neck. "Still warm," he muttered. "Dead less thanan hour."

The captain struggled a little to get back to his feet, and Kuanfelt a twinge of remorse for attacking him earlier at The Pit. But thesituation had called for it at the time. And somehow he sensed there would bemore violence to come before he and the boy were allowed to return to their ownworld.

CaptainArmstrong proceeded onward into the silent depths,his night-vision goggles maintaining a constantsweep across his surroundings. He approached the ledge above the subway tracksand stopped, weighing his chances of collapsing if he were to jump. Damned leg.

Damned monk.

Lucky shot. A sucker punch. If he'd known Brother Kung Fu wasthere waiting, it would've been a whole different story. But he didn't hold itagainst the holy man. On the contrary.

He's got some real stones for a Wayist.

The monk approached his side and gazed down. A drop of a meter ormore. He adjusted his hold on the boy, still out cold. Wondering if he couldstick the landing?

"Maybe we should turn back. Get that kid to a hospital assoon as the curfew's over. Front of the line," Armstrong said.

"He'll be fine if we hurry."

The captain held up his hand, aware of something that made theshort hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention. They werebeing watched.

"The residents?" The holy man licked his lips. He sensed it too."Just how unfriendly are they?"

"Oh, they're friendly enough. They usually smile whenthey're cutting you open."

The monk took a step back from the ledge.

But it was not the eyes of the freaks upon them. Rather, it was aset of electronic eyes, mounted in a hidden cleft of concrete in the tunnelceiling. They transmitted a live feed to one particular monitor in a bank ofscreens mounted along the rearwall in Cyrus Horton's Underground laboratory.

"Hey..." Elder Horton remarked, his eyes fixed on the monitorin question. "Looks like we've got some company."

Younger Horton turned from the maturation chamber, but Muldoondidn't. Cade was beginning to stir beneath the thick pane of glass. Soon hewould be conscious enough to answer one question: Where is Irena?

"Who?" Horton squinted across the room.

Elder Horton shrugged. "A monk and a cop, looks like. A kid,too."

Younger Horton scoffed, returning to the chamber. "Let thefreaks have at 'em."

"What if they find Lennox? They'll know we left him outthere. Won't look good