The Anshar Gambit (The Alice Knight Series - A Near-Future, Dystopian, Sci-Fi Thriller) by Ian G. McDowell

Author:Ian G. McDowell [McDowell, Ian G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-12-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 33: Julian

Julian slung the duffel over his shoulder. He considered pissing on Annabel’s note but settled for writing ‘fuck off’ across it and leaving it under a rock.

He already missed his headset, his last item of value and only connection to the world. Maybe Gordon would turn the thing on and bring down the wrath of Blackmountain on those thieving bastards.

The thought of them suffering gave Julian a moment of weak satisfaction. The feeling quickly turned to panic. If those three were picked up with the headset, how long until they told Blackmountain where they got it? The mercenaries could already be on the way.

Julian dashed out of camp for the nearest field. Lacking a map, he’d need to follow the road to avoid getting lost. He’d seen movies where the hero navigated by the sun’s position, but ‘wilderness survival’ wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

Julian settled on walking the fields just out of sight from the road, cutting back in periodically to course correct. It mostly worked. He reached the city not long before noon without seeing another human. An abandoned warehouse provided cover for him to catch his breath and plan his next move.

He had an hour until the rendezvous at the memorial, assuming Alice got his message. Relying on his (probably dead) mother to save him reeked of desperation, but the only alternative was going to the police. Privatized law enforcement was the norm around here, and most cities contracted with Blackmountain. Julian wasn’t sure what Bratislava’s arrangement was, but the odds were against him.

His stomach grumbled from the missed breakfast, and his mouth tasted of stale booze; nothing to do about that. Scrounging for a meal was way too big a risk. At least his campfire ‘friends’ had let him eat dinner before rolling him; he would survive until noon. After that… maybe his next captors would have better food than Antoine.

First, he needed to reach the memorial. He’d picked it for being outside the city center, but his memory of the location was fuzzy. Julian scanned the horizon, hoping for a hint.

About a hundred tents dotted a nearby hill. Julian had volunteered at a similar camp outside Colchester. It was full of people living outside the law. He could get help there without calling the wrong kind of attention.

Julian set off toward them. A central ‘avenue’ cut through the middle of the tents, defined mainly by having a thinner layer of refuse than the surrounding land. Residents chatted with each other from broken-down furniture. Scattered fires supplied the aroma of burning meat and trash.

In his volunteer days, Julian was constantly bombarded with yells of ‘Hey, rich boy,’ followed by entreaties for help. No one called to him today as he shuffled down the avenue. He looked down at his oversized clothes, frayed and muddy from diving to the ground for every passing farm drone. Add in a few days of stubble, bruises from fighting, and some rank BO… He fit in here more than he cared to admit.

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