A Violent Life: A Jimmy Blue novel by Sainsbury Ian W

Author:Sainsbury, Ian W.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fuse Books
Published: 2021-10-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Three

Tyson’s eyelids droop heavy before dawn. He blinks at the blacktop spooling under the headlights, rubs his face with the back of his hand.

The roads are quiet, the cabin warm. The cruise control is on, and he's covering the ground at a steady fifty-five miles per hour, keen not to attract the attention of any patrol cars.

Twenty minutes after passing Fort Stockton, he pulls off the I-10 into a rest area with a truck lot behind. Fills up the tank at the quiet gas station, watched by a straggly bird of prey which perches on a telegraph pole when he walks across the forecourt to pay.

He uses the restroom, splashes water on his face. Dries himself with paper towels, which he drops into an overflowing trash can. In the store a bored middle-aged woman with purple lipstick ignores him while he fills a basket with protein bars, chocolate, nuts, and energy drinks.

He saw security cameras outside. Inside, two more cameras: one over the door and another behind Purple Lips. She rings up his purchases, calling out the total in a monotone. Tyson frowns at her earbuds. Wireless. Fat white grubs burrowing into her brain. Whispering to her. Telling her what to do.

As he counts out the cash, he realises he's thinking out loud, sharing his stream of consciousness in a mumble.

"And who's in control now, anyway? The government? Maybe not, maybe not, maybe it's the corporations that got so big, so powerful, they can buy and sell entire countries if they want to, and who can stop them when the world bends over for whoever has the most money? Even if they still call the shots, the government ain't gonna stand in the way of big tech, big pharma, they get to do whatever they want, sending subliminal messages, binaural signals telling you what to buy, what to eat, who to vote for; that's how the revolution happens, not a riot, not a war, but some corporate asshole whispering in your ear until you're a soulless drone like the rest of them…"

He bites down, tooth on tooth, stops the flow. Most gas stations cameras don't have audio, and a quick glance identifies it as a cheap black and white model. Still, if someone watches this looking for Don Parfitt or Connor Tyson, they'll be interested in any big black guy, especially one who talks to himself.

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