I Am Legion by Scott Clark

Author:Scott Clark
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: science fiction, futuristic thriller, fiction thriller, thriller action, thriller adventure fiction, fiction for women, fiction for boys
Publisher: Scott Clark

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Chapter 20

Carson landed his Tyvol in front of a shop. He looked at the coordinates. They were right. From what he saw outside, however, they looked wrong.

That shop was in a neighborhood that was pretty well decayed. There were houses on either side of it stretching down the block in both directions and they stood there with roofs sagging and caving in.

The neighborhood was crumbling.

But that was true of whole sections of East St. Louis. Carson couldn’t see it coming in as he did but it was true. There had been many renewal projects over the years initiated by the government and overseen by the bureaus but for some places it was decided that it would be better—that is, a more efficient use of resources--to simply move the people to new areas rather than renovate where they were.

That was true of this part of the city.

So people were moved, some of them. Others refused to go. They liked life there; it was their environment, their culture. It was their home. Why leave it and go somewhere else? Why go to some other place where life was different and where there was no family and they had no friends? Why go somewhere where there were no boys to hang out with like those in the Gets, the Mons, and the Baughies?

The vacuum created by those who left was quickly filled with others. These others were people who needed a place to stay for awhile, to crash for awhile, or they were others who needed a place to operate from where the authorities would think twice about coming in and taking a look. Or it was filled in with any numbers of other “others” who made up the underbelly of civilization, Classifieds and Unclassifieds both who, for whatever reason, wanted to live away from the network and the grid—and from prying eyes.

Carson could see some people out down the block. They were talking and milling about. There were some kids out playing some crude game or other half a block down in the other direction. Further down, some younger men were gathered around what looked like an alleyway. Every so often a couple of them would peal off of the group and turn into the alley. When they left, others would come out.

Probably sonics, thought Carson. Or quadralitium. The nasty stuff. Why that kind of thing always made its way into poor neighborhoods was a great mystery to Carson. Some people in the bureaus had it all figured out, of course, and there was program after program set up in these neighborhoods that were designed to remove despair from people’s lives and to give them some sort of esteem they lacked. But the problem remained.

Carson got out of his Tyvol. The door closed behind him with a thump and the sound of the door settling into the seals. There were other Tyvols parked out in front of the shop. They were older models than his—a decade or more. And they were in various stages of dismantle.

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