Dead Inside: A Space Team Universe Novel (Dan Deadman Space Detective Book 2) by Barry J. Hutchison

Author:Barry J. Hutchison [Hutchison, Barry J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Zertex Books
Published: 2017-11-25T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A sleek Tribunal cruiser hummed to a stop at the mouth of an alleyway. The passenger door rolled upwards, revealing a figure in riot armor and a blood-smeared helmet sitting in the driving seat.

“It’s me,” he said. “Get in.”

Ollie poked her head out from behind the dumpster, then Artur poked his head out from behind hers.

“Deadman?” Artur said, his fuzzy eyebrows almost raising all the way to the top of his forehead. “Have ye lost yer feckin’ mind or something? Ye do know that’s a Tribunal car ye’re driving, right?”

“I know. Get in. I’ll explain on the way.”

Artur tugged on Ollie’s ear. “Well come on then, peaches, ye heard the man. What are ye waiting for, a written invitation?”

Ollie scampered out of cover and over to the car, keeping low. She jumped into the passenger seat, and Artur hopped off her shoulder onto the dash. Ollie wriggled uncomfortably as the door closed and the car pulled away from the plaza and into traffic. Artur scrambled into a cup holder that was indented in the plastic dash, and wedged his legs against the sides.

“There’s something on the seat,” Ollie complained, squirming and reaching beneath her. She pulled out an object roughly the size of a human hand. Roughly the shape, weight and texture of one, too.

“There’s a hand,” she said. “On the seat. There was a hand on the seat.”

“Yeah,” said Dan, taking the severed appendage from her and tossing it into the back. “Had to get through the fingerprint scanners. Seemed like the obvious solution.”

“Well of course it seemed like the obvious solution,” said Artur. “Because ye’re a frightening bastard, Deadman. A frightening big maniac, in fact. I thought ye had a friend or someone who was going to let ye in and out.”

“I did,” said Dan.

“Then why not just…” Artur’s voice stuttered to a stop. “Oh. Right. And, again, that brings me right back to ye’re a fecking maniac.”

“Wait,” said Ollie. “You cut your friend’s hand off? Didn’t he mind?”

“He didn’t object,” said Dan.

“Oh. Wouldn’t it have been easier just to bring the rest of him, too?”

“Actually, no,” Dan said. “No, it would not.”

He swung the car left as he changed lanes, and watched as the other vehicles parted to let him through. Man, he’d forgotten how nice it was to drive one of these things.

“Why not?” Ollie asked.

“He was heavier than he looked,” Dan replied.

“I thought you said you didn’t have friends,” Ollie reminded him.

“I don’t. Now hold on.”

The road ahead was blocked with five lanes of slow-moving traffic. Dan hit the sirens and mounted the sidewalk. Pedestrians dived for safety as the cruiser screamed past, reds and blues sweeping across the store fronts.

Much as he hated to admit it, he’d missed this. Other cars had never pulled over to let the Exodus past, and its distinct lack of blaring sirens and flashing lights had really limited his opportunities to tear across pedestrianized areas at high speed.

The cruiser tilted to one side as Dan roared back onto the road and powered across a junction.

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