American library books » Science Fiction » Living History by Ben Essex (best motivational books of all time .txt) 📕

Read book online «Living History by Ben Essex (best motivational books of all time .txt) 📕».   Author   -   Ben Essex



1 ... 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
Go to page:
genius inventor. How do we fix this?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t know the first thing about trains,’ White poked aimlessly at the wires, holding random twists of circuitry together. ‘Especially modern trains.’

‘Oh, great,’ I rubbed my temple. ‘All right. I think I can work the basic details of this out.’

‘Heh.’

‘What?’

‘Nothing,’ White’s expression was of grim amusement. ‘I just told you we’d work well together.’

‘Feel free the chat away, you two,’ Lincoln said, behind us. ‘We have all day.’

‘Oh yes,’ White said suddenly, clicking his fingers. ‘I almost forgot.’

White took his revolver and shot Lincoln in the stomach.

Lincoln went down.

I stared at White in shock. ‘What was that for?’

White shrugged. ‘It’s never a good idea to ignore a perfect opportunity.’

‘There was a truce!’

‘He would have done the same to us the moment we fixed this train,’ White replied. ‘Now let’s get to work.’

‘Sir! Sir!’ Daniel came rushing in. ‘I thought I heard a gunshot.’

‘It was nothing,’ White dismissed, holding two circuit breakers together. ‘Just Lincoln taking a bad fall.’

‘Oh. Of course.’ Daniel looked around. ‘What did you do with his body?’

‘It’s right over-‘

White and I saw it at the same time. Lincoln was gone. The words Body Amour suddenly exploded in my head in massive letters.

We didn’t see blood.

‘Oh, shit.’

We both bolted for the door, just in time to hear the lightning strike. Lincoln had taken the opportunity to backtrack and outflank our men. He/she could strike them broadly from behind, and the moment they turned around to retaliate…

It was a slaughter. Lincoln was losing a lot of people, but White was losing more.

White had another good shot at Lincoln, though-and this time he was aiming for the head. He bought his revolver to bear—

It clicked out, empty. Lincoln saw us, and ducked behind a chair.

‘Hell,’ White said, and started zapping with his Gauntlet. The whole interior of the train was crackling; the walls were heating up. Wooden panelling snapped and the smell of burning leather hurt my nostrils.

‘You’re really not supposed to use these indoors,’ I muttered, of the Gauntlets.

‘There’s no way out,’ White breathed, as the two of us retreated through the dining cart. The enemy was right behind.

‘Doesn’t seem to be.’

‘Just a question,’ White said. ‘You really were planning to betray me in the end, weren’t you?’

Didn’t seem much point in lying. ‘Yeah. And them.’

‘Playing both sides against the middle?’ White shook his head. ‘Intelligent, if despicable.’

‘Coming from you, that means a lot.’

The police started surging into the dining car. My fingers twitched out arcs of lightning in their general direction. Bottles of BBQ sauce exploded, coating my pursuers in sticky stuff. They were not particularly hindered.

‘Good shot,’ White said flatly.

‘Shut up.’

Above my head, some luggage exploded.

‘Listen,’ White briefly met my gaze. ‘I’ll hold them off. You find a way to stop this train.’

‘They’ll kill you,’ I warned him.

‘So will that bomb if we’re not off this thing in thirty minutes,’ White shrugged.

Oh, right. The bomb. It was still in the dining cart, hidden behind the counter.

‘You’re smarter than me,’ I pointed out. ‘You should do the fixing.’

‘Yes, I am, but this isn’t my time,’ White bit. ‘I don’t know trains any better than you and besides, you couldn’t hit an elephant with cannonball. No hurry up, man.’

Reluctantly, I got ready to run. White put down a little cover fire.

‘You know,’ said White. ‘I am sorry for your friend with the moustache. This has been a difficult few months for me.’

‘Yeah,’ I muttered. ‘I know the feeling.’

And then I was off, the world exploding behind me. I didn’t want to look back, in case I saw something unpleasant.

I ran for the cockpit, slamming the door shut in my wake. The sound of battle outside faded.

Fix this. I examined the wreckage. How the hell am I supposed to fix this?

Scrambling and scrabbling around, I found an instruction manual buried under one of the consoles. It was covered in dust and several thousand pages long, but the Computer Interface section had some fairly extensive diagrams.

Remember when you used to invent things?

I went to work, cobbling and tying-forcing wires and errant strands of circuitry back into place. Primary microchip-boards had been destroyed, but there were plenty of secondary systems to rewire. Be inventive. You’re a genius too. Sort of.

‘C-C-C-..C…Computer O-O-Online,’ came a croaking voice from one of the consoles. Yes! I breathed. Maybe Daniel hadn’t smashed things too badly after all.

‘Computer, how do I fix this damage?’ I demanded.

‘Running diagnostic,’ the computer chirped. ‘Diagnostic complete. Fixing current levels of damage would be impossible. Probability of failure: 100%. Thank you for your time.’

Oh, brilliant.

‘Computer, how fast is this train going?’

‘Two hundred miles an hour.’

I did math in my head. ‘Can I survive jumping off that?’

‘In protective gear, possibly.’

I looked down at my clothes. Frills. Waistcoat. No protective gear. ‘No.’

‘Point of information: When approaching city limits, the train will automatically slow to around ninety-seven miles an hour. You may survive exit at that speed.’

‘The autopilot’s damaged-will the train still slow down?’

Long pause.

‘No.’

Then there was nothing to be done. I left the cockpit, venturing outside. The corridor was silent. No sign of battle. No sign of White. That couldn’t be good-

-A baton struck my temple. I brought my Gauntlet to bear; electricity leaping out. My opponent fell back… and stood up again, unhurt.

It was a cop, a woman of intermediate age. She was wearing full body armour; the plain-clothes had disappeared. Apparently, somebody had been smart enough to break out the heavy padding.

I jabbed her with my Gauntlet again, retreating toward the cockpit. The train lurched. I burst through a set of cabin doors, and fell to the ground—

The policewoman followed. She had friends.

Five enemy Gauntlets flared to life. Batons struck palms menacingly.

Natalia/Lincoln stepped into view, standing over me.

‘I’m sorry, Ben,’ Lincoln said. ‘But honestly, how did you think this was going to end?’

The men advanced.

And that that moment-

-_Dinosaurs attack._

‘Attention, ladies and gentlemen. This is an automated announcement. Passengers on the 11.15 train to Little Stop, Salmon Square are reminded that we are entering a Dinosaur-Infested zone. Cautionary dining car procedures are to be followed for the remainder of the journey. Please throw away your meals and begin dental flossing immediately.’

The dinosaurs were flying raptors, fresh from circling the trash heaps on the edge of the city. Like all modern dinosaurs, raptors are inexplicably attracted to the scent of BBQ sauce.

Their nostrils are very powerful.

They began dive-bombing the train in groups of three or four; smashing into windows, cracking through the glass. Most of them were swept away by the train’s sheer velocity, but a few found purchase on the hull. They forced their way inside, then realised they had nowhere to go. The stupid beasts twirled around the train’s tiny interior, screeching as they bounced off the walls. Claws struck out from beneath leathery wings, cutting everything in sight-I caught a nasty slash across my cheek. Off-balance and off guard, the cops fought back with Gauntlet fire.

In the confusion I slipped away, offering silent thanks to Gods and lizards alike.

I saw White.

He was curled up in a ball, lying between carriages, and about as badly hurt as a living thing can be. His face was covered in burn marks, barely recognisable-no wonder I’d hadn’t noticed him earlier. His clothes were totally shredded.

I touched my palm to his mutilated cheek, and tried to stem my instinctive revulsion. He was breathing-

‘Step back.’

Lincoln/Natalia was behind me, pointing a weapon at my head.

Very, very slowly, I stood up.

‘Put your Gauntlet down.’

I did so.

Lincoln looked pissed.

‘I’m sorry, Ben, but these are my orders. You can’t be let go. You could never be let go.’

‘I thought you trusted me,’ I muttered.

‘You’ve double-crossed me about four times in one afternoon. I don’t think you get to lecture on trust.’

My feet shifted. ‘You haven’t shot me yet, Natalia,’ I pointed out. ‘Not getting cold feet, are you?’

‘I’m a publicist, you bastard,’ he/she spat. ‘Killing’s not my first skill.’

‘Shame you work for the mafia, then,’ I replied. ‘Listen, Natalia. You don’t have to do this. You can-‘

She shot me in the leg. Electricity crackled over my shin, and I fell. Just a light dose, but enough to hurt like hell.

Natalia! Please-‘

‘These are business hours,’ said Lincoln, humourlessly. ‘I don’t get to be Natalia again until you’re dead.’

Her hands crackled-

-And Natalia fell down, as a burst of blue struck Abraham Lincoln in the face. His hat rolled off.

Jacob White was on his feet, swaying. Holding my Gauntlet in both hands. He was almost dead, and still fighting on.

‘Go,’ White croaked. ‘Go now.’

I didn’t have to be told twice. I fled.

-Looking over my shoulder just once-

-To see the titans clashing. The real Benjamin Franklin and the fake Abraham Lincoln, faces broken beyond recognition, enveloped by a cascade of lightning. Wrestling each other into a deadly, burning embrace.

The train was collapsing around them-metal warping and burning.

I slammed the carriage door shut.

The bomb had less than ten minutes left.

By chance I tripped over Daniel’s body. Unlike White he didn’t seem badly hurt, just very unconscious. With great effort, I hauled him up onto my back. My heart was straining in its chest. I felt like I might keel over at any second.

I dragged Daniel back to the cockpit, and dumped him there.

Probably about six minutes, I thought. Assuming the train didn’t break itself apart before then.

At two hundred miles an hour, you may survive… with protective gear.

I had an idea.

Rushing out of the cockpit for a final time, I found the nearest site of battle. Corpses were everywhere, rebel and cop. The walls were burnt, and the air smelt of pork. I wasn’t interested in any of the humanity right now. I just needed equipment.

Maybe four minutes?

I saw two armoured officers, ripe for the plucking. There were holes burned in their heads-marks of terminal damage-but their armour was intact. Hurriedly, I tore off their outfits.

I grabbed a dropped Gauntlet.

Two minutes or so.

On the brink of the cockpit, I found the link between carriage and train; the vulnerable joint that Lincoln’s men had already half burned through. Throwing my stolen goods down, I stood well back and closed my eyes. Aiming the Gauntlet on faith and memory.

Lightning exploded from my hand, and struck the joint. The carriage creaked and groaned in protest; the whole thing wavering with stress.

One inch at a time, the metal link started to melt away-

-Until it snapped. I fell onto my backside, knocked down by sheer momentum.

The front of the train broke free of its burden-cockpit speeding off with me inside. I could only hope that we had enough time to clear the blast radius.

Maybe a minute, counting down…

The rest of the train ground to a halt. The dinosaurs were still going at it-circling around, tearing at the flanks. Through the mid-section burst flares of blinding light. The giants clashing.

I am sorry. Both of you.

Maybe thirty sec-

The train exploded.

A plume of orange, a blast of white. Red and yellow flames.

And nothing left.

I blinked back blindness. Watched the embers for a while.

In the end, the giants always fall.

I hauled Daniel to the

1 ... 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
Go to page:

Free e-book: «Living History by Ben Essex (best motivational books of all time .txt) 📕»   -   read online now on website american library books (americanlibrarybooks.com)

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment