Ascendant Saga Collection: Sci-Fi Fantasy Techno Thriller by Brandon Ellis (best novels to read in english .txt) 📗

hand smacking the student’s posterior hand. The action caused the gun to fling out of the student’s hand and onto the ground.

This was what Drew knew he had to do. His only escape.

He studied his opponent in front of him. The man had a hoody on under his leather jacket with a black bandanna over his nose and mouth. He was skinny. Too skinny. The gun shook in his hand.

“Give me your phone,” the guy slurred, booze on his breath.

Any second now, Drew would have this guy where he wanted him. Once he dislodged the gun out of the guy’s hand, he’d give him a swift kick to the groin and put him in a submission hold, something the instructor on television had done. It looked easy. Drew was coordinated, played a few sports growing up, and was fast. This should be a cake walk. The only problem, Drew had never punched a guy, let alone wrestled someone to the ground.

“I said, give me your phone.”

Drew stared, blank eyed.

The guy shoved the gun closer to Drew’s face. “Are you deaf? Give me your phone, and then give me your wallet.”

Drew stepped back. Was he a gun magnet?

The man rolled his shoulders and pushed out his chest to make himself bigger, more menacing. “I’m not going to ask again.”

Drew figured the guy must be a meth addict, not a GSA hit-man. He eyed the gun more closely. If a street lamp hadn’t been nearby, he’d been fooled. Whatever it was that this guy held wasn’t a gun. It was meant to look like one, but wrapped in black electrician’s tape with a wooden handle equaled a bad fake pistol.

The guy went to grab the phone when it vibrated. Drew moved it away from the man’s reach and looked at the caller ID.

Hobbs Howell.

Drew put his hand up. “Hold on. I have to get this.”

“Oh, man. C’mon. Don’t do this. I have bullets in this thing, for reals, yo’.”

“Sorry, bro.” He didn’t want to agitate a meth-head, even if the guy had the world’s worst imitation gun. “I need my phone. It’s kinda keeping me alive.” He dug in his pockets. “Here’s ten bucks. Move on. I don’t have time for you and your toy gun.”

The guy swiped the bill from Drew’s outstretched hand and shuffled off, muttering about how unfair the world was.

Drew paid no attention because Hobbs was already talking. “Why did you send me pictures of a warehouse, of a ridiculous train, and—”

“Thought you’d like the rest of the story, boss.”

“Drew, I saw how many people you carbon copied. Next time, please send blind copies. I don’t want everyone knowing that you included me in this scandal. I’ll air it, but to have me, Howell Hobbs, connected directly to this information as if I’m part of your government thievery is too much.”

“I sent carbon copies so that everyone would know that if they didn’t get this story out, then another reporter and another network would. It would be a race to see who came in first.”

He heard the SUV before he saw it. It had that trademark “large vehicle” hum. Why the security services didn’t all have Priuses was a mystery. Those things were like the stealth fighters of cars. Drew pulled himself as close to the tree as possible. A flashlight rolled over the grass and hit his knee, though the rest of his body was hidden well behind the cedar. The car stopped and a door opened and shut. Footsteps came in his direction.

The flashlight swept across the grass, one, two, three times, then turned off. The door opened and shut. The SUV drove off.

Drew whispered into his phone. “They’re trying to find me. They’re in an SUV.”

“Yeah, right,” said Hobbs. “And there are green men on Mars, giant mutant sucker-fish in the sewers, and ‘The Truth is Out There.’ I’ve seen your dark web page, Drew. I know the kind of conspiracy shit you’re into. Now, get your head out your ass and back in the real world. You work for me. You have to give me a little more information. I want an edge. I want to beat out the competition.”

Drew thought for a moment. “You know the picture of the train?”

“Yes.”

“They use those trains—monorails—to transport secret technology from city to city. The tunnel I was in was gigantic. I boarded one in a tunnel in Plano, Texas and wound up in...” He realized it wouldn’t be a good move to give away his current location. “Let’s just say this...I stowed away on the monorail and that tunnel brought me to another city, thousands of miles away. I can’t tell you exactly how long it took me to get here, but it was fast.”

“Which city?”

Drew rubbed his pant leg. “It would be imprudent of me to share my location, Hobbs. We both know that.”

“Anything else?”

His phone beeped. It was KMWI. Probably Robert.

“I have to go.” He hung up without saying goodbye. “Robert?”

“Drew, man. They’re taking the pictures down as fast as we can get them up. The head of the station got a call from some tight-wad from Washington about national security. He about had a cow. He’s ordered us to stop posting your files. This thing is out of control.”

“Goddamit,” said Drew. “At least they got the pictures of Callisto out to the public.”

“Yeah, about that.”

“Aw, shit. No...”

“Yeah, they’re spinning it. Hoax. Prank. Photoshopped. Airbrushed. No such mission, blah-blah-blah.”

“What’s your take? Do people believe the mainstream media? Are they buying it? Or can they smell a cover up?”

“Drewmeister, no one can tell their ass from their elbow any more, especially when it comes to facts. They’ve probably all tuned out to watch reruns of Game of Thrones or Battlestar Galactica. The news cycle is short. They’ve clamped down and they’ve strangled this particular chicken.”

“Chicken?” said Drew. He wasn’t often confused, but Robert’s weed consumption outstripped his by a good mile.

“Figure of speech, my man. The story is dead. Find the next piece of the