After the Winter (The Silent Earth, Book 1) Read Free

obvious. His right leg below the knee was gone, and the left was missing from mid-thigh. From both wounds dangled wires, part of the synthetic's nervous system. Ragged tears of muscle and sinew were also present, as well as the jagged ends of broken alloy bones.
    This guy had been blown - or ripped - apart. But this wasn’t the work of the Marauders. They’d have butchered him, taking the valuable parts from the chest and head and even the arms. Come to think of it, there wasn’t much the Marauders didn’t strip from a clank body once they got hold of it.
    He was missing a lot of skin from his arms, and on his left hand, only the thumb, forefinger and middle finger were left intact, and they were devoid of skin altogether. The left side of his face was partially caved in, his skull plate having taken a nasty knock near the temple. Here he was missing skin and hair, revealing grey metal beneath, and he was also missing an ear as well as several teeth.
    His eyes, open and staring upward into the sky, contained inky irises clouded by a residue that resembled cataracts.
    He was garbed in a black T-shirt and denim jeans, ripped off just above where his legs had been amputated. There were scrapes all over him, as if he’d been dragging himself around. That made me wonder if perhaps he’d lived for some time after he’d sustained those leg injuries.
    I looked about. If I could drag him out into the open, it might distract the Marauders for a while should they come this way. They’d spend some time dissecting him, and every minute helped.
    I placed the satchel on the ground and leaned down, gripping his shirt with both hands.  The synthetic lurched forward, swinging his right arm into my midsection with an audible crunch . I cried out in hurt and surprise and stumbled back, landing with a crash on a piece of wooden crate. I kicked and scrambled madly, stumbling again as I tried to get up and put more distance between us. Eventually I stopped in the middle of road, poised to flee.
    The synthetic’s milky eyes bored into me from his sitting position on the curb. The good side of his face registered a sneering hostility.
    “Get your hands off ,” he grated. His voice was deep and gravelly. Menacing.
    With that, he casually resumed his previous position, slumping backward and staring up blankly into the sky.
    “What the hell, man,” I said shakily. “I thought you were dead.”
    He offered no reply. Feeling gingerly at my ribs where he’d connected with his fist, I couldn’t help but wince. It hurt like hell. If those had been human bones they’d have cracked for sure. The guy packed a punch.
    My satchel was still lying right next to him, and it was something that I didn’t want to leave without. Everything I owned was in there.
    “Hey,” I called again. “Who are you?”
    It seemed he’d already communicated everything he wanted me to know, for he remained there silent and unmoving, inscrutable. I had to assume that if I got near enough to him he’d take another swing at me, or worse.
    I took a few steps forward, confident that he wouldn’t cover much distance in the shape that he was in, but ensured I wasn’t within his wingspan should he take another swipe at me.
    “Where did you come from?” I probed. “Did the Marauders attack you?”
    He muttered something inaudible in reply but lay unmoving.
    “What?” I took a few more steps forward. “I didn’t hear that.” I was close now, and kept talking to let him know where I was, not wanting to surprise him again. “What are you doing out here?”
    “Waiting for the 1400 shuttle home,” he snapped. “What do you think?” He got up onto his elbows to regard me again. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
    “I will, I just-”
    “What?”
    “Take it easy, all right? I’m sorry for startling you. I don’t run into other clanks very often, except for the Marauders. You’re the first I’ve seen in a few weeks.”
    “This must be a disappointment for