We Are the Dead by Mike Shackle

Author:Mike Shackle [Shackle, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orion Publishing Group
Published: 2019-04-09T22:00:00+00:00

32

Dren

Kiyosun

It might have been a new day but Dren was nursing an old grudge. And, for once, it didn’t involve the Skulls. Instead, he was focused on that old man, Jax, and how he was going to make the fucker pay for chucking him in the harbour. No more playing nice. No more pretending they were allies of some sort. It was time to get nasty. Time to get bloody.

Dren had spent the night in an abandoned set of rooms. Whoever had lived there had been taken by the Skulls or fled the city, not that Dren cared either way. He’d smashed a chair up and got a good fire going and then fallen asleep, warm for once.

Now curfew was over though, Dren returned to the docks and found a nice dark alley with a good view of Jax’s warehouse and a pile of rubbish in which he could hide. After all, you needed to be patient if you were going to kill a man.

Some time later, he saw Monon and Greener rush off, looking like their world was going to end, but Dren ignored them. They were just lackeys. Jax was the prize.

The old man left about an hour later, hobbling along with his stick, acting a hundred years older than he was. Dren slipped out of the alley and followed, keeping well enough back not to get noticed. Careful, careful, every step of the way.

Jax left the docks, skirted the edge of Brixta and headed into the Risenn District. The fucking Skulls were everywhere, but Dren had become a master at avoiding them over the last six months. They didn’t give a shit about a gutter rat like him.

He lifted an apple from some women’s basket and took a mouthful before he’d gone another step. Not that she noticed. Dren was too quick for that.

His mouth watered with every bite. Juice ran down his chin. His stomach groaned in appreciation. It wasn’t much, but it would keep him going for now.

The streets grew narrower and more crowded, making it easier to stay hidden. Risenn was much like Toxten, except the Skulls hadn’t bombed the shit out of the place. People there still pretended to live normal lives. They weren’t eating, sleeping and shitting in piles of rubble that were once their homes. They didn’t have the Weeping Men snatching bodies for the slave trade the moment their backs were turned. Dren spat. Lucky bastards. Good job they were all in this together.

Jax entered a carpet shop and Dren wandered past but couldn’t see inside – fuck knows when the windows had last been cleaned. There was nowhere at street level to watch from without being noticed so he sneaked into the building opposite and ran up the stairs to the roof. It was a perfect lookout’s perch, so Dren settled down to see where Jax was off to next.

Minutes passed with no sign of the Shulka leaving. Dren didn’t care. He wasn’t in a hurry – he was a patient man, after all.

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