BACKTRACKER by Milo Fowler (e book reader txt) 📕

But Muldoon's mistake was two-fold.

First, he never should have assumed the driver would stick aroundafter all four of the cab's tires were back on the pavement where theybelonged.

Muldoon's second mistake was that he didn't move fast enough.

The rear door was still open, and he could have ducked back insidein time. But as the driver floored the accelerator and nearly spun out, racingoff into the night, Muldoon knew he'd never be able to catch up. So he stoodthere in the middle of the street like an idiot as autos whipped past him,swerving around the headless, handless statue beside him, honking at the factthat this was not where either one of them belonged.

The tire iron slipped from his grasp and fell with a heavy clunk.He watched the taxicab disappear into traffic converging in the distance, itsleft rear door swinging like a dangling appendage. He glanced up at themandroid and entertained a passing thought that the two of them had a lot incommon.

Get out of the street. Go... Where?

He couldn't go home. Yeng would give the police his name, and itwould be only a matter of minutes before they came pounding on his door. Ormaybe by the time he got there, they'd already be waiting.

He could go back to The Pearl and track down that other monk,Yeng's cohort: Kuan-something. Find out where they'd stashed the kid, whatthey'd done and why. Get himself caught that way at the scene of the crimeinstead.

Either way, he'd be spending some serious time behind bars. Afteryears of keeping a low profile, flying under the radar, not getting involved.Because it was dangerous to interfere. To change things. To interrupt the flowof time. Now he'd gone and stepped in it, tried to rescue that poorkid with the all-too-familiar face he just couldn't place.

Muldoon staggered beneath the weight of the world, his insidesplummeting, everything outside a blur of sickening slow motion. He left whatremained of the automaton in the street and headed for the curb, the sidewalkbeyond. AI-driven autos honked, swerved, splashed past him, doing little morethan contributing to his already soaked pant legs and shoes.

Where am I? When am I?

Blindly, hand outstretched, he somehow made it to the sidewalk andthe wet brick building just beyond. He braced himself there, his heart racing.He shook his head, cursing. To anyone passing by, he was merely an undesirablewithout an umbrella who'd lost his way in the night, too disoriented to findhis way home.

Maybe that wasn't so far from the truth.

I know who I am.

So began his mantra, designed to settle his nerves and tie hismind, body, soul to this moment, this timeline, this when. He had tofocus on what he knew to be true.

He knew who he was, without a doubt.

He knew where he was. He knew when he was.

So did the man standing in the shadows behind him, the figuredisguised by darkness who had appeared ex nihilo a moment ago through aripple in the air. A breach between worlds. This man would have been instantlyrecognized by the kid, despite the uncanny mask of shadows that hid his face.

For it was the boy's father.And young Harry would have done anything to see himwhole again.

But unfortunately, Harry remained in the dark at The Pearl with GavinLennox.

"They managed to get away, sir," reported one of thesynthetic waiters with a frown of disappointment. "The mandroid whopursued them has gone off-grid. We must assume it was disabled."

"How many does that make?" Lennox snapped. "Thosethings aren't cheap."

"Three are now out of commission."

Lennox cursed. Young Harry looked up at him with surprise, yetwith a growing understanding. This Gavin Lennox was either the head waiter here, or he was theboss. It was clear that he was a man in charge, either way.

Lights across The Pearl flickered, then shone brightly, restoringlife to every tier as they glowed on tables, in decorative alcoves, fromchandeliers, and along the perimeters of hallways leading to restrooms. As one, thepatrons released an audible sigh of relief, and as if on cue, the band launchedinto a lively number to draw them back to the dance floor. The front doorsswung open, and the masses who'd been clamoring for release only moments agonow found no reason to leave. In from the cold, wet and shivering but notcomplaining, came patrons who'd been waiting patiently outside. In lessthan a minute, it was as if there had never been theslightest hint of a disturbance at The Pearl.

Even so, Harry had no reason to let his guard down. He watchedLennox, who seemed to have forgotten his existence for the time being. Thatwasn't a bad thing. Maybe Harry would find the right moment to slip away if hewaited for it.

But where will I go?

He didn't want to go home to an empty apartment, not without hisdad. There wasn't much there to go back to, anyway. They didn't have a wholelot.

Not that it had ever mattered. It was always just the two of themagainst the world and all its odds, and they looked out for each other. Harryknew his dad needed him; didn't make sense, really, but he'd felt it more thanever over the past few weeks. It was like he couldn't live without him, thathis mind would unravel completely without his son there to keep him steady,keep him focused on things that mattered. Like eating and sleeping. Theday-to-day stuff that kept him grounded, out of his head where he seemed to getlost sometimes.

The truth was, they needed each other. That's why Harry had thrownall caution to the wind when he saw his old man torn apart in that alley acrossthe street—

"Who was he, that man who kidnapped Mr. Zhu?" The waiterwas speaking again.

Lennox turned his gaze to the dance floor as it reclaimed itsformer glory. "I'm sure it will be on the Link shortly. The police willtake him into custody, and we'll make certain his ident tag is permanentlybarred from The Pearl." Somehow, he sounded disappointed. "That'll beall, George," he dismissed the SYN without glancing his way.

"Yes, Mr. Lennox." George strode away.

"I'm sorry he