I Am God Read Online Free PDF Page A

fire, the muffled sound of a bullet piercing a helmet, the screams of pain of the wounded, which were so loud you ought to be able to hear them in Washington but in fact barely reached the stretcher bearers.
    Good luck , Wendell …
    He moved aside the sheet and sat up on the bed.
    ‘Go fuck yourself, Colonel Lensky. You and your fucking syndromes.’
    All that was behind him now.
    Chillicothe, Karen, the war, the hospital.
    The river was following its course, and only its bank preserved the memory of the water that had passed.
    He was twenty-four years old and he didn’t know if what was in store for him could still be called a future. But for some people that word would soon lose all meaning.
    Barefoot, he walked to the TV and switched it off. The anchorman’s reassuring face was sucked into the darkness and became a little dot of light in the middle of the screen. Like all illusions, it lasted a few moments before disappearing completely.

CHAPTER 4
    ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to take you all the way into town?’
    ‘No, this is fine. Thanks a lot, Mr Terrance.’
    He opened the door. The man at the wheel looked at him with a smile on his tanned face. In the light from the dashboard, he suddenly reminded him of a Don Martin character.
    ‘I meant thanks a lot, Lukas.’
    The man gave him a thumbs-up sign. ‘That’s OK.’
    They shook hands. Then the corporal removed his bag from the space behind the seats, got out of the car and closed the door. The voice of the man at the wheel reached him through the open window.
    ‘Whatever you’re looking for, I hope you find it. Or that it finds you.’
    These last words were almost lost in the rumble of the mufflers. In an instant the vehicle in which he had arrived was nothing more than the sound of an engine fading away.
    He adjusted his bag on his shoulder and started walking. He felt neither nervousness nor euphoria at this homecoming.
    Only determination.
    A few hours earlier, in his motel room, he had found an empty shoe box in the closet. The lid bore the trademark ofFamous Flag Shoes, a mail order company. The fact that the box was still there said a lot about the care taken by the motel’s cleaners. He had removed the flaps from the lid and written CHILLICOTHE on the white background in capital letters, going over the word several times with a black felt-tip he had in his bag. He had gone down to reception with the bag on his shoulder and the sign in his hand. Behind the desk, a nondescript girl with thin arms and long straight hair and a red headband had replaced the man with the moustache and sideburns. When he had approached her to give back the key, the spaced-out Flower Power look had drained from her face and she had stared at him with a hint of fear in her dark eyes. As if he was coming towards her with the intention of attacking her. He was starting to come to terms with this attitude. And he suspected it was a judgement that would never be challenged.
    Here it is , colonel , here ’ s my luck …
    For a moment, he’d been tempted to scare her to death, to pay her back for that revulsion, that instinctive suspicion she had felt for him. But this wasn’t the time or the place to go looking for trouble.
    With ostentatious gentleness, he had put the key down on the glass desktop. ‘Here’s the key. The room was disgusting.’
    His calm voice, combined with his words, had startled the girl. She had looked at him in alarm.
    Die , bitch .
    ‘I’m sorry.’
    He had shaken his head imperceptibly and stared at her, letting her imagine his eyes behind his dark glasses. ‘Don’t say that. We both know you don’t give a shit.’
    He had turned his back on her and left the motel.
    Beyond the glass-fronted door was the little square. On hisright was the service station with the orange and blue Gulf sign. A couple of cars were waiting to go into the car wash, and the pumps were busy enough to arouse hope that he’d get a ride before too long. He had