Mutant City Read Online Free Page B

Melk name would be destroyed and his whole presidential campaign would be over. When the old man shrugged, he could hardly contain his anger.
    ‘ Where? ’
    ‘I took them out of stock.’

Rush
    It was the third day of his journey and the sun was beginning to make its way towards the horizon. It’d be dark again soon. Tired and dirty, and more than a little hungry, Rush was walking along the side of an old dirt track, his feet dragging in the dust. He paused to look up at a bird sitting on a bough of a tree – a strange creature with a long proboscis where its beak might have been – when he heard the noise of a wagon approaching from behind. Scurrying into the nearest bush, he peered out from the dense foliage to see the large, harg-drawn vehicle come round the bend. He kept perfectly still, knowing he could not be seen, but his heart sped up when the vehicle came to a halt beside him.
    There was a moment or two of silence, eventually broken by a man’s voice. ‘What you doing hiding in that bush, boy? You planning on jumping out and attacking me, like one of those bandits from the Wastes?’
    There was little point hiding any longer, although how the man could possibly have known he was there was a mystery. Rush stood up and looked at the driver of the wagon for the first time.
    ‘Tink!’
    ‘I thought it might be you,’ the wagon driver said, a sad look on his face. ‘At least, I hoped it would be you.’
    The man reached down, offering the youngster a hand so he could climb up on the jockey-box alongside him. Side by side, they sat in silence for a while, just looking ahead.
    ‘I came by your place – what was left of it – yesterday. I was going to pay you and Josuf a visit, maybe trade some merchandise for a few barrels of that fine cider he makes.’ The old man sighed and shook his head. ‘How much did you see?’
    ‘Everything. Those men . . .’ He couldn’t say the words.
    Rush had known Tinker all his life; the trader visited their smallholding at least three or four times a year as he travelled from place to place carrying news and bartering goods. The man had an uncanny knack of having just the right thing on the back of his wagon whenever he pulled in at a place. Rush had no idea how old the man was; his eyes looked youthful and were quick to smile, but the thick, drooping moustache that framed his mouth was almost white. On his head he had a large, battered flat-brimmed hat, and he took this off now, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.
    ‘You don’t have to talk, son.’
    ‘They killed him.’ Rush spat the words out, turning away so the man would not see the tears that welled up and ran down his cheeks.
    Tink nodded and replaced the hat. He remained quiet, looking off in the other direction and giving the boy as long as he needed to get himself back together again.
    ‘He told me to get away. Told me to run. I was in the orchard, and Josuf . . . There was an explosion. He –’
    ‘All right, boy. What matters is that you’re safe. For now, at least.’ He sighed. ‘But more men will be coming – men looking for you.’
    ‘So they came because of me?’
    ‘Uh-huh.’ Tink nodded, thinking things through in his head. ‘They can’t have been certain you were there, but they will be now. You can’t go back.’
    ‘I’m not going back. I know where I have to go.’
    ‘Oh? And where’s that?’
    ‘City Four. Before he died, Josuf told me to go there. I have to find somebody.’
    ‘A man called Silas.’
    ‘You know him?’
    ‘We’ve met.’
    Tink raised his head and stared off into the distance again, his bushy eyebrows knitted together. ‘And so it begins.’
    ‘What, Tink? What begins?’
    The old man waved the question away and shook his head. ‘City Four is a heck of a long way from here. I’d take you there, but I have to go east first. Somebody, somebody else like you, might also be in trouble.’ He shook his head. ‘The ARM will