No Child of Mine by Olga Gibbs

Author:Olga Gibbs
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dystopian, dystopia, political, thriller, conspiracy, action, 1984, orwell, apocalypse, post-apocalyptic, sci-fi, fiction, satire, cyberpunk, war, horror, psychological, espionage, technological, techno-thriller, suspense, crime, genocide, propaganda, surveillance, radicalism, Utopia, civil rights, liberties, globalization, imperialism, communism, corruption, war crimes, human rights, privacy, AI, freedom, political freedom, totalitarism, anarchy, totalitarian
Publisher: Indie Author Project
Published: 2021-10-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

In the middle of the floor of the vaulted room a small fire was burning.

A tiny carcass of an animal roasted above it, producing that mouth-watering smell. A dark figure sat next to the fire, the rags and shadows hiding its face.

“...As the ancient philosopher Nietzsche once said: “There are no facts, only interpretations”, the familiar crazy voice recited, and the seated figure threw his finger upwards.

The openings to the tunnels behind the figure gaped with inviting blackness.

Tom stepped from the shadows, the fire illuminating him and Tilly.

Reacting to his approach, a large dark shape scattered towards the fire, throwing its hand at the arrival with a low growl.

“Josephine, what –” the seated figure began, as it turned to face them.

It was an old man with a dishevelled, unkempt grey beard, grey hair on his head poking from under a blanket that swaddled his body.

His eyes flew open. His gaze came over the newcomers, wrinkles over his forehead deepening, before a smile took over his face, carving more wrinkles, this time around his mouth, opening it and flaunting a few missing teeth.

“Oh, my... That is highly unexpected, I have to say. We don’t usually receive visitors”, the old man said. “Come, dear friends. Please come, come closer. There’s nothing to fear. Not from two old people like us, anyway.”

“We’re not going to bother you”, Tom answered, sliding around the fire and giving a wide berth to the crazy. “We’re going into those tunnels, and we’ll be gone.”

Tom jerked his head behind the old man and his companion.

“Nonsense, young man, nonsense. A guest is like a prince when he comes...” the old man began to recite in a singing voice.

“...And a rare phenomenon in our humble abode”, he finished brighter, smiling at Tom, as he swung his arm around, indicating at the small room.

“Take a seat by the fire please, warm yourselves up and share our meal with us. How could we let you and your little one go without sharing our hospitality?”

The smell of cooked meat fought the stench of mildew, winning occasionally, but it would dissipate with a gust of a draft coming through the tunnel behind their backs.

“It’s really not necessary”, Tom answered, skating wider around the crazy man.

“I can promise you, that neither I nor lovely Josephine would do you any harm.”

Tom drew his gaze to “Josephine”.

It was a large, dark figure, taller than Tom and wider. The body was swaddled in rags, with only a face, with glistening eyes that glared at Tom from under the eyebrows, visible.

“Dad”, Tilly squeaked next to him. “I’m hungry.”

“Come, little one. Come closer.”

The old man rose from the low stool, which he occupied. But the rise didn’t add much to his height. His folded back remained almost parallel to the ground.

He twisted his neck and looked up at Tom.

“You can keep your instrument handy, young man, if you like.”

The old man nodded at the shiny scissors in Tom’s hand.

“But I assure you, there are no bad intentions towards either of you.

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