Murder Genes Read Online Free

all sort of atrocities.   Jay went along with it, too.   He'd looked the other way.
    But now it was his neck on the chopping block.
    "Not right.   Just the greater good and a means to an end.   With The Code gone, generations of people can live longer, happier, and peaceful lives at the expense of a few."   The Chief tapped his chest.   "Us."
    "Prisoners enforcing prisoners."   Ingenious.   The leaders of this modern crusade kept their hands clean.
    The Chief held up the back of his fist.   "Three rules," a finger extended.   "Do not attempt to escape.   You will be killed."   The second finger.   "Never touch, tamper, or try to use any gun.   Each of our guns is set to explode if anyone but an Enforcer uses or meddles with it."
    The Chief bent and grabbed the gun from the desk, slamming the hilt into the table.   A tiny laser cross locked on Jay's chest.   "Thirdly, don't die."   He laughed like he'd made a joke.
    Seeing the gun point him in hell's direction, it seemed awfully simple.   Stay and die, or try to escape and die.   Fight or flight wasn't that attractive anymore.   But doing nothing and dying wasn't much better.   Fight and flight, then.   He'd made his mistake once, no more.   For Kyle, he needed to survive.   "How long do people last?" Jay asked.   Kyle would turn ten in a month.
    The Chief held Jay's gaze for a long second.   "Most, a few weeks.   Longer now since the initial influx tapered."   The gun lowered and returned to the holster as slowly as it had come out.   Jay felt no relief.
    The Chief raised a brow.   "Any other questions?"
    "Why a few weeks."
    The Chief chuckled.   "What do you think happens when you put a bunch of convicted murderers together?"
    "They kill each other."   It was obvious, of course.
    "Like animals.   You’ll see soon enough."
    "I have a son," Jay said.   He should have known better than to say it, but he did.   Since Andrea died there was no one for Kyle.
    "Then he’ll be joining you soon, if you survive long enough," the Chief replied.
    Cold sonofabitch.   "He's nine."
    The Chief stood abruptly and gave Jay a large grin.   "Dead meat is dead meat, no matter the age."   The way he said it made Jay loathe him.   "Show him out," the Chief ordered Jay's Enforcer.   "Rendezvous at G in two."
    When mandated testing for The Code had begun, fear sprouted resistances to the testing.   But instead of free speech, those who resisted were moved up and tested immediately.   The rest of the discontent hid, Jay hadn't.   He'd been confident he wouldn't have The Code.
    Jay's Enforcer seized his arm, pulling him from the room.   Before leaving, the other Enforcer with the dark eyes and silent the whole time, straightened.   A guarded look passed between the Enforcers.
    The heat hit Jay hard as the metal door creaked and screeched close behind them.   Outside was a ghetto, a city overgrown with weeds and trash.   The building they'd emerged from stood on the verge of collapse like the rest of the city.   Uniform, dull, and wasting.   This was the place for the country to wipe its hands of guilt, built with the structural hastiness of those hiding their conscience.   An Atlantis arisen overnight, destroyed before sunrise.
    "This way," his Enforcer said pushing Jay forward.
    Around them, Jay saw no one, heard nothing.   Paint chipped and faded off brick walls, loosely nailed boards criss-crossed broken windows.   The earth had a sheen of a strange mineral that caught the afternoon light so that even the dirt seemed to shimmer under waste piled so high that the roads were all but blocked.   The area, despite the refuse, did not smell of rot.   No one had lived here for quite some time.   Anyone who had left nothing of food behind.  
    There was a wall surrounding Morir.   Mesmerizing.
    It stood high, as tall as a skyscraper.   Out from a stone wall no taller than two people emerged long poles, like the kind of jail a child would make ants