Toxic Read Online Free Page A

him with a silent message by looking away. He was conscious of leaving them in hell, and maybe even happy to have ended up getting out of helping as fast as possible, she measured.
    The stern slid softly against an old tire attached to the wharf. The hull pivoted to line up with it. The Colombian maintained the motors so that they could reach the ladder. Elaine left the back of the line to talk to Hector. He reminded her loud and clear that this was her request, and that he had kept his part of the bargain. She bit her lips.
    “Thanks for your help, Hector, but I don't wish you good luck.”
    The Colombian gave hint of a slight annoyance. Latinos were often fervent believers. He was surely aware that he was committing a crime or even a sin. Maybe he didn't give a damn about getting into paradise, given that he found himself in purgatory among the squalid dregs of humanity. Elaine walked forward and grabbed a slippery rail.
    The quay was testimony to the panic which must have reigned there. Rows of remains of dozens of vehicles aroused the memory of a former battlefield. Its brothers in arms resembled the dazed civilians en route to Bassorah, erring between the cars and trucks torn to shreds by the bombs. Debris stretched across the expanse like a carpet which everyone would have wanted to avoid trampling. In front of them, one of the men in the group said to stop. Behind him, intrigued by a noise which she though was a product of her imagination; Elaine stopped, and then joined the improvised meeting in the middle of their exposed disembarkment.
    The man, around thirty years old, proposed that they go to the administrative buildings visible from the other side of the basin. The quay, bordered by workshops and warehouses, would lead them there. It was just a question of following it. Seen from there, she recognized that the building did have its advantages. The upper floors offered additional security if they could find a way to block access to them. There was only the problem that they would have to cross over one kilometer on foot. In their state of fatigue, it seemed more reasonable to make a pit stop in a neighboring warehouse. Elaine expressed her opinion. The young leader didn't hesitate to rebuke her in an accusatory tone. “If we get it there, it's your fault.”
    Elaine sat on a red suitcase, strangely intact, assuring them that she wasn't going to move without a moment of rest. Without exception, her companions followed their new leader. Even the fifty-something year old. He looked at her more than once, as if trying to convince her to not stay behind alone. She sighed with disappointment and went back. The boat was already moving away from the pier. Hector wasn't planning to gather dust in this land of perdition. At once, she bitterly regretted her decision to have disembarked.
    The same metallic sound resounded, clear and distinct this time. It came from one of the warehouses. The residential neighborhoods stretched along the other side of the fencing which encircled the port. She knew that this wouldn’t be sufficient protection against a horde excited by fresh flesh. In front of her, the group continued to follow the quay, single file. She straightened up and adventured in the direction of the double doors.
    It was a mechanic's workshop, she thought, circulating between the frames and engine parts. On top of the workbench in shambles, she noticed m-screens, a wide array of tools, wallets and even printed photos. She grabbed one: a couple in front of a house. She smiled. They had a dog, a Jack Russell terrier. Once again, the noise resounded. It was coming from behind her.
    She grabbed an iron rod and walked past a truck with a bed. The source was located on the other side of the service access, a large door open into an alley.
    “Anybody there?”
    She was standing in place when she heard the whines and grunts in response to her question. The litany of lost souls. The words came back to her as a memory, but