Hurt World One and the Zombie Rats Read Online Free Page A

the harsh Congolese badlands that it was the lower,
weaker creatures in the food chain that relied so much upon
camouflage and deception for their survival. In so called
civilisation, there weren’t many creatures able to evolve beyond
that point. Jungles were better than banks to try. But the problem
was jungles were getting smaller and towns like San Paul were
getting larger.
    Mas gazed out across the port, less than a
kilometre away now. A few lights had already come on, even though
the night was still an hour away. The boats moored to the piers
remained inactive. Illegal fishing was best done at night when the
fish were biting and the police were not. For many of the boats,
old and rusty, it seemed like the piers were holding them up; the
houses lining the foreshore weren’t in much better shape, their
fronts filthy and dilapidated. Mas, however, was not fooled by
appearances: there was profit enough in illegal fishing and no
doubt beyond the closed doors and shuttered windows there would be
good living and the weapons to protect it.
    ‘Dock there,’ said Mas, pointing to a free
berth at the end of one of the piers.
    Titov hesitated. ‘If we are simply here for
provisions, there are other ports in Guatemala that I’d recommend
over this one. The cops here are particularly hard on strangers;
they have to be, for they have been paid off so handsomely by the
locals.’
    ‘I am meeting someone here so there is no
going around it. But I am happy for you to stay aboard.’
    ‘You had better take your bird then. You
might find there is some unfriendly pointing your way in this
town.’
    Mas nodded. ‘I will take my eagle.’
    Titov hurried from their position at the port
side bow to take control of the bridge. Mas meanwhile set about
climbing the vessels lookout tower, which, owing to the boat’s
illicit line of work, was particularly high. It provided an
expansive view over the town and she took it in with a hunter’s
eye. The town did not occupy a large area of land and yet all the
dwellings were squashed together as though engaged in a competition
to push each other over. Beyond the town was grassland for as far
as the eye could see - a buffer from the killer fireflies, which
once had terrorised these parts. It left Mas feeling uncomfortably
exposed, for there was no cover of trees should something go wrong.
She gazed down at the boat beneath her and found no comfort there
either. The Zopez was an old, creaking cargo boat that had been
lucky to make it through the black market without being sold for
scrap. At least the missile she had set up on the lookout tower
platform packed a punch. Mas tested the missile launcher’s purchase
on the platform and once satisfied held out her arm and Zelda
promptly landed upon it.
    ‘Where have you been?’ Mas queried, feeding
her some worms from out of her pocket. ‘I suppose as soon as we are
in sight of land, you are up circling the sky, looking for prey. In
this town I do not think you will be disappointed.’
     
    *
     
    Titov steered the Zopez into dock with an
assured hand and Mas was ready, leaping over the side-railing and
into an easy walk without missing a stride. Over her body suit she
wore loose fitting cream shirt and trousers with deep pockets that
hid her weapons well, particularly the laser-acid gun she was
gripping down at her thigh. She ignored the lingering looks coming
her way from the unsavoury looking men loitering about the docks
and the adjoining streets. They could look but not touch. And if a
man broke that one simple rule, she would hurt him without
compunction. She was not one to flirt with.
    She reached the nondescript concrete building
with the Desear Restaurant on the ninth floor and, as the entrance
door slid open for her, she stepped into the scanning room. A blue
X-ray beam swirled around in a whirlpool of colour and a small slot
opened in one of the metal walls. There came a voice command in the
kind of Spanish referred to as Spangish, which