Crashing Heaven Read Free Page B

logos, carefully stitched into bandanas. One went to cover his up. The other glanced at Jack. ‘It’s OK, he’s not InSec.’
    [ Your old boss still has some supporters. Impressive pair!]
    ‘I want food. Something hot and quick,’ said Jack, taking a seat at the bar. ‘And I’m looking for a hotel. And a friend.’
    ‘You can see the menu. And do I look like a search engine?’ the barman snapped back.
    ‘I’m not onweave.’ Now Jack had his attention. ‘I’ve only just arrived on Station. Sandal certified me safe.’
    ‘There’s a hotel a couple of streets away, left then right. But if you’re not onweave you can’t pay for a room. Or food. Not that you’d taste it anyway.’
    ‘I’ve got money.’ Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out the cash card.
    ‘That’s InSec. The kids were right. You are police.’
    There was a muttered ‘shit’ from the teenage boys.
    ‘No,’ replied Jack. ‘Not any more.’
    ‘You’re on parole, aren’t you?’ asked one of the teens.
    ‘Worse than you fucks, chasing your traitor god,’ the barman told him.
    ‘Oi, watch it – they never proved anything.’ The teen’s friend hushed him.
    ‘Kingdom believed Grey was knowingly helping terrorists, East reported it all, that’s enough for me,’ replied the barman. ‘And you’ – turning back to Jack – ‘you can get out. I don’t know what you’ve done, but if it’s enough to get you offweaved I don’t want you in here.’
    One of the teens whispered, ‘Probably a skinner. Coming down hard on them just now.’
    As Jack left he heard the barman say ‘scum’.
    [ I’ll have him for every shilling he’s ever earned. I’ll mail pictures of him screwing a six-year-old to everyone he’s ever met. By this time tomorrow they’ll have thrown him out of his life and he’ll be begging on the fucking streets,] whispered Fist, his thin, high voice a malevolent whip cracking inside Jack’s head.
    [ No you won’t,] Jack thought back. [ You’ll remember what would happen if you got caught and you’ll do what I tell you.]
    [ Yes, that’s always worked out so well for us, hasn’t it?]
    [ Fuck you, Fist.]
     
     

 
    Chapter 3
     
    The hotel was easy to find. A half-broken sign spat sparks at the night every time a raindrop hit it.
    [ Very vintage. Andrea loves this sort of thing, doesn’t she? Shame you’ll probably never get her here. Could be quite the love den.]
    [Don’t be so sure, Fist.]
    [ Remember all that counselling you did when we found out I’d be taking over? What was that thing they said was so bad? Ah yes. Denial.]
    The door refused to open. Jack barged it with his shoulder and it flew back. A bell jangled too loudly. The reception area was dimly lit. A plastic counter pretended to be wood. At first Jack thought that the desk clerk was a young man, but when he got closer he saw that age had carved lines in his face. There was something very boyish about his greeting, though.
    ‘Oo, hello! Dear me, you’re soaked. We’ll get you a room nice and quickly.’
    He stood up, swaying slightly. There was a sharp herbal scent in the air. Jack recognised Docklands gin. He’d not tasted alcohol for seven years. He’d forgotten how it could slur words, make a hand shake as it sketched patterns in the empty air.
    [ You should get some and celebrate being home.]
    [ No distractions, Fist. Especially not cheap shit like that. We’re here to find Andrea.]
    ‘Single room?’ asked the clerk, unaware of their conversation. ‘Staying how long?’
    ‘A few weeks.’
    Fist laughed. Jack thought of glass breaking in darkness. The clerk waved a hand, confirming the booking.
    ‘I need a deposit. Just mesh with our server.’
    ‘I’ll pay with this,’ said Jack. He slapped the InSec card on the plastic countertop. ‘Is that a problem?’
    The clerk looked at Jack, then back at the card, then at Jack again. ‘Well, I should be worried. But it’s a simply horrid night. And I’m sure you can’t