Hurt World One and the Zombie Rats Read Online Free PDF Page A

from the start. The
poison was washing through her muscles, leaving her with nothing.
Her eyes rolled into unconsciousness and she collapsed onto the
table, her face landing flush in the soup.
    The waiter was back at the table: he stroked
her hair a moment before using a clump to pull her head out of the
soup. He looked around at the other diners in the restaurant,
daring them to look up from their own plates. But no one took up
the challenge. A nervous hush had fallen over the tables.
    ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ said the waiter in a
dull, flat voice, ‘it seems our soup has quite a bite to it
today.’

    *
     
    ‘Come and join us,’ came a voice through the
darkness. ‘The anti-venom is taking effect. You are still on the
right side of oblivion.’
    Mas felt herself returning to consciousness
on the back of the voice. It was the waiter’s voice. She didn’t
like how comfortable and assured it was sounding. She would have an
enemy more vulnerable than that.
    She opened her eyes to see that she was
handcuffed to a chair and her arm hooked by intravenous drip to a
champagne glass containing a cloudy pink liquid. Her heart beat
quickened and she forced herself to take a deep calming breath to
slow it back down. Then set about taking in her surroundings. It
was a small dark room with evenly spread box-windows and a
rhythmical hum of engine emanating from the arched metal ceiling.
It was the inside of an aircraft. A cargo hold. But there was no
sensation of forward movement. The aircraft must have been
hovering. Possibly a magno-chopper. Mas’s neck was starting to
throb with pain where the scorpion lobster had bitten her. The
handcuffs kept her from rubbing it. Leaning into her shoulder was
the best she could do.
    The waiter was standing beside her. He was
dressed in the same black shirt and trousers though now was without
the apron. Mas realized the apron had been hiding a paunch and a
gun holstered at his hip. The man had thick brown hair, hard eyes
and a crooked nose. Mas guessed he had a military background or in
law enforcement. Judging by his method of snaring her, he was well
versed in dirty tactics.
    ‘Who are you?’ she snapped.
    ‘My name is Mlit Hopital,’ said the man
calmly. ‘And the name of the creature you encountered in your soup
is Scorpius Acquakillus. The scientific name that is.’
    ‘I’m into science too,’ Mas spat. ‘I’m
particularly fond of thanatology.’
    ‘Please do not be like that. Although the
poison injected into you is fatal, the antidote is reliable. You
are in no danger. I have even had the soup washed from your face
and hair. You see, your face fell into the soup.’
    Chuckles directed Mas’s attention to the
cargo hold’s other occupants. They were standing back behind
Hopital. Two females and one male. The male was familiar to Mas,
having been loitering out on the street when she first approached
the Desear Restaurant. Obviously he had been a spotter. Mas glared
at him and tugged furiously on her restraints. ‘Let me go.’
    ‘Soon,’ said Hopital. ‘This extreme measure
has only been authorised by the firm because you are such an
extreme client. You see, although the scorpion lobster poison comes
with an antidote, the toxin you are seeking to purchase does not.
Dr Gustavo Fall does not feel comfortable conducting the
transaction himself. And with good reason. There are many dangerous
operators in the black market who are quite ruthless in the way
they tie up loose ends.’ He pointed behind him. ‘My colleagues and
I are field operatives of Stamford Transaction Facilitators and Dr
Fall has hired us to ensure there are no double-crosses in your
dealings with him.’
    ‘You’re trying to say this isn’t a double cross?’
    ‘Certainly it isn’t. The Stockholm Compound
is on board and will be presented to you once payment is confirmed.
If you have been considering trickery of any kind, I would suggest
you accept the predicament you are in and fulfil your