Acolyte (The Wildermoor Apocalypse Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

diner over the last few weeks.  As he opened the door to his trusty 1992 Vauxhall Astra, the warm, stale air rushed out and embraced him.  As tradition required, Laing quickly grasped the handles on the inside of the doors and wound the windows down.  A year of police training meant that he could not afford himself a new steed, with automatic windows and decent seals to prevent the damp or air conditioning. This new-fangled technology was beyond his reach for now, but he vowed that he would press on and ruthlessly clamber to the top of the ladder, or even a few rungs from the bottom in order to kit himself out with these luxuries.
    For now, Laing had to make do with a driver’s seat as comfortable as a mattress stuffed with bricks, and having to sit for half of his lunch break with the door open to let the stubborn and rank air escape the car, allowing any passers-by of Exeter Street a glimpse into his lunchbox.  Every day this consisted of the same contents: a flat peanut butter sandwich, a somehow-melted chocolate biscuit and a packet of DIY Ready Salted crisps (the ones that came with salt in a blue wrapper and required you to shake salt onto the crisps yourself, then to realise that the salt was laying at the bottom of the bag having only tickled a few of the crushed crisp particles.)
    Today held no promise of being any different than the other ten that Laing had spent with the Wildermoor Criminal Investigation Department so far.  In essence, he was a tarted-up tea boy and data-inputter.  Sure, Chief Detective Inspector Darke was a great mentor, but he had a reputation of putting all of the new pups through every menial task imaginable before they were let loose and able to shadow one of the other more experienced officers on the day job.  Laing knew that was where the real action was.
    For days so far he had sat and listened in awe at them all coming back into the stuffy office on Percy Street, regaling tales of their travels.  They were far from beat-bobbies; this was CID and they were the big boys called in to provide the muscle and the brains after the blues had laid the groundwork.  It promised to live up to all of Laing’s expectations, but he knew that patience was a virtue he must embrace if he was to succeed and join the elite.  For now he just needed to remember who took milk and two sugars.
    Laing unpeeled his sandwich from its film wrapping and gobbled it down.  Breakfast was also not a luxury he afforded himself since his love of sleep and 6-am starts did not see eye-to-eye.  Lunch would serve as his first and most hearty of meals.  Once his hunger was satisfied Laing sat back in his driver’s seat, his knees just brushing the sides of the steering wheel in an attempt to get comfortable.  He glanced at his watch.  It was 12:07pm.  His lunch had successfully lasted four minutes.  Now he had forty-nine minutes to himself to satisfy his need for sleep.
    The rising mid-day warmth meant that Laing’s eyes already sat heavy and catching forty winks would not be a problem.  He pulled his door shut and manually locked it from within. As ropey and rusty as it was, he cherished this car. It had been his father’s and held many fond memories. He couldn’t stand to see his Dad sell it for a mere few hundred quid, so had given him the last of his savings the previous summer and bought it from him
      Laing let his head fall back against the headrest and sleep soon came.  He dozed on every lunch break believing it prepared him for the final push at the end of the day and would prepare him for the moment that DI Darke decided to throw him in at the deep end, which would only happen if an officer was unwittingly taken out of action and Laing found himself at the front-end of a drugs raid or bank-hostage situation.
    Visions of grandeur danced before his eyes and within seconds he was asleep.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Six
     
    Colin sat on