Page 138 of Drift

Simon took his phone from his pocket, and after tapping something into it, he held it up for Gray to glance at. Caught on the phone, infrared lit up nine body heat signatures, or at least the nine Jan counted on screen.

Not even losing breath, Gray slipped free of cover, took aim, fired twice in quick succession, then slipped behind cover as cries and rustles from the undergrowth hit the air as two heat signatures hit the floor.

“I take two of yours for every goddamn stone or poison dart thrown their way,” said Gray flatly.

“Well hello there to you too, big brother.” Ava’s tones came out so slow… seductive. “You want to come fuck about with me too? All your fight against… mine.” A chuckle. “Actually, I justwanted to see the face behind the culler, is all. I know your marksman skills. So thank you for that.”

Calls came from the undergrowth, followed by rustling leaves from all around… an itch to get free with the “Bastard” snarls that came Gray’s way.

“And look at that,” said Ava. “A serious profile change: you took the lives of two kids over here, one just fifteen, the other older than Westie there.” A chuckle. “But then conscience never did walk with us when the threat is to our own, did it?” A sigh. “Like I said, though: stale mate. Drift’s on a time limit, and the clock’s ticking. Twenty-eight minutes to be precise. Drift has basiccurarepoison working through his system, which is nothing to do with the virus itself, so no antibodies to keep him safely tucked in my bed. So… tick-tock. Whatcha gonna do? I mean, you do have the numbers behind you to stop any move we make, right?”

On Simon’s phone, one after another, numerous heat signatures started to manifest out of thin air, then rustling drifted over as they started to shift out onto the road.

“Fuck,” murmured Simon. “I’ve got a count of over seventy.” He looked at Gray. “That’s seventy goddamn kids.”

“Street kids,” said Ava. “And we’ve had a lifetime of being unnoticed and ignored. Who knows where we’ve had access to, huh? But we know the toys you play with.” Quiet. “You wanna see some of mine? Because it ain’t only Drift who’s been given the one-minute-to-midnight upgrade on the doomsday clock. You not followed all the… horizontal signs yet?”

Gray glanced back, his frown on the manor. No, not on the manor, beyond it—above, to the horizon, and he suddenly shifted and tugged out his phone as—

One after another, balls of fire lit up inner London almost as a reply, and even Gray jolted as the London scene burst into fire, making a silhouette out of the manor in a twisted New Year’s Eve unprofessional display of too much searing light.

Jan blinked, unable to process everything he was seeing, yet couldn’t hear from this distance.…

No sound was good, right? Explosions had been one of the weekly questions Jan had asked Gray about: the different types. Part of him remembered low order explosives, those without a supersonic heated pressure wave were the least dangerous. No sound wave meant no internal damage for those close to the blast areas. High order explosives—they were the danger: they sent out a heated energy that could smash bone. But there’d been no sound at this distance from the city, no blast wave. Nothing but fire and—

“Fuck…fuck.” Heated wind slammed into Jan’s body as the first sound wave reached them, sending a wall of dust and debris at him as trees waved their terror, and he crashed to his knees, covering his head at the blasts that relentlessly hit his ears and bones.

“What the hell, what the fucking hell?” It’s all he had as someone turned into him, covering him from the dust and debris as more sound waves hit them.

Gray crouched, turning his back to the chaos, shielding an ear against the noise and distant screams that drifted over as he snapped something into his phone, but most of it was lost to Jan’s hard pound of heart that hurt his ribcage as the ground cried out around them.

“No… no fucking on-scene response from anyone unless in full hazmat suits.”

Jan looked Gray’s way, not knowing who the hell he spoke to.Why…? Why would Gray delay help, why—

“Disordered control of the environment…. Theyneedemergency services out on the streets and moving from building to building.” Gray dipped his head as dirt and debris still shifted around them. “They’re releasing the virus after the bombs, targeting emergency services called out in order to infect as they try to protect. They’re after social upheaval from the top down. You get army, police, fire crews, and ambulance crews out without protection into buildings with poor ventilation, they’re our infection source.Get on to Brennan. Buildings around police stations are also going to be hit to draw them out into infected buildings….No. They’ve fed us a false MO. Drift had no natural disorders presenting when he contracted the virus the first time, but it still made him ill. That’s the testing they’ve been hiding. They’re going general public.”

“Jesus, oh Jesus,” breathed Jan. The whole house of London cards was being forced to tumble down behind him into madness, with the prison guards turning into the killers. “This isn’t happening. This isn’t fucking happening.” He stayed down, covering his ears and twisting into Martin. Then a car pulled up a few feet from them, and a shove off Martin had Jan moving, scrambling for it along with Simon. Jan’s Merc was ballistic proof along with Jack’s, and Light kept the engine running as Simon slammed the door shut behind them.

Light twisted the wheel towards the gate, wheel spinning it to where West shielded Drift on the road, but something made him pause.

As dust and debris started to settle, in the backdrop of distance screams and sirens, one hell of a beautiful Japaneseyoung lady turned low circles as if in a private dance with the dust, and her hum that drifted over belonged to “Every Breath You Take” by The Police.

Seemed she’d been watching everyone for such a damn long time….

Gray stepped from behind the gate, his firearm levelled on her forehead as he shielded West and Drift.

As he did, Ava stilled and looked his way. “Tick tock,” she said quietly. “Twenty-five minutes.” Her look went to Drift, and she gave a tut. “In all this chaos too…” Her look found Gray’s. “You get my meaning, brother?”

After only a moment, two more—Gray lowered his firearm, his look holding Ava’s. “Run. And make it fucking far and fast.”

She kissed at her fingertips, touched hand to heart. “Check and… mate, love.” She then nodded off to her right, and four older teens broke free and tore West away from Drift, then dragged them both back into the undergrowth as Jan locked the car doors and stopped Martin from shoving out.

Ava tipped her head. “Streets belong to you and me, brother.” All emotion flatlined across her features. “Hell is empty, and all the devils are coming out… here. Well.” A wink. “All accept you. We both know who’ll be on their way to put you on lockdown, away from all the… sin. Protocol One, right?”

Gray could have taken the shot. Why the fuck didn’t he take the shot? And what was Protocol One?

Ava took a bow, then turned away for the treeline, blackness swallowing her up.

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