Garrett & Petrus- The Complete Series by C Marten-Zerf

Author:C Marten-Zerf [Marten-Zerf, C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Anglo American Publishing
Published: 2016-08-14T22:00:00+00:00

***

Fat Man stood in the doorway to the hostel and looked out across the night-cloaked township. A pillar of flame lit up the smoky sky. An orange glow, like the aftereffects of an attack from some mythical creature.

‘So,’ he said to Garrett. ‘You say it’s the same guys that you heard this afternoon?’

‘Garrett nodded. ‘Same weapons. Same structure. Same combat skills. One group of undisciplined dudes with AKs and another group, highly trained, with 5.56mm weapons.’

‘So who are they?’

Garrett shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Cops?’

‘No,’ denied Fat Man. ‘Cops still use the R1 assault rifle. 7.62mmm. Very different sound.’

‘Army?’ Suggested Garrett.

The Fat Man shuddered. Mounds of adipose tissue wobbled in sympathy. ‘I hope not. The last time that the army came into Alex was in the early nineties. The government sent in 32 battalion. Scariest mother fuckers I ever laid eyes on. I tell you. When they were here you could leave a bag of money on the streets and no one would touch it. But they came with their own set of problems. Bad for business, you know. Hard to make a buck when the devil’s sitting in your passenger seat. Petrus, what do you think?’

‘Can only be the army. I’d like to know who the hell they’re killing.’

‘Well then,’ said Fat Man. ‘Go and see, why don’t you.’

Petrus nodded. ‘You coming?’ He asked Garrett.

‘Sure.’

‘Leave the rifle,’ said Petrus. ‘Bring your steel. We go in quiet and stay quiet. Come on.’

Garrett handed his CR-21 to The Fat Man and followed Petrus out into the smoke.

‘We’ll break left,’ said Petrus. ‘Go around the outside of the township and then cut in later. Come in from the side and see what we find.’

The two of them ghosted through the shacks. Garrett was amazed at how lifeless the place appeared. He knew for a fact that it was rammed full of people but he saw very few. They were huddled in their shacks, or seated in the shadows. Every person hidden away in his or her own private hell. Hoping that the violence would pass them by. Hoping that the flames wouldn’t consume their meager belongings. Hoping that they could continue to live their insufficient, inadequate lives for one more day.

A dog ran out at Garrett, but before it started to bark it changed its mind and scuttled back into the darkness. Beaten before it had even begun.

The smoke covered all like a shroud.

A sixth sense raised the hair on the back of Garrett’s neck. He trusted those senses implicitly. They had kept him alive for many years while all around him many others had died. He grabbed Petrus’ shoulder and whispered urgently.

‘Down.’

They dropped to the ground and rolled into the shadows.

A group of ten men walking two abreast loomed out of the smog.

Petrus waited until they had passed and then he lent close to Garrett. ‘Xhosas,’ he said. ‘They are heading to the hostel.’

‘What do you want to do?’ Asked Garrett.

‘There’s only ten of them,’ answered the Zulu.

Garrett nodded and pulled his machete from its holster.

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