Impersonator (Forager Impersonator - A Post Apocalyptic Trilogy Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

elevator, concentrating overtime as I struggled to walk like a guy. I tended to sway my hips slightly when I walked, which most definitely would not do.
    The apartment blocks, which housed most of Newhome’s inhabitants, were ugly ten storey affairs. They had flat roofs with open walkways on one side and windows on the other. They were constructed in great rows, one after the other.
    It wasn’t like that for the more fortunate people who lived in the walled off exclusive district of North End. Their apartment blocks, which towered over the wall that divided North End from Newhome Proper, were a beauty to behold. They were constructed from red, brown, and black bricks and tiles rather than ugly slabs of grey concrete.
    Only the V.I.P.s and their families lived in North End. That included the Chancellor, councillors, geneticists, scientists, other council officials and senior business managers. And their families, of course. It was said they had no curfew, better schools, playgrounds, cinemas, even colour-brick roads! It was even rumoured that if you were able to attain a high enough position in a Newhome Proper vocation, you could earn a free ticket into North End.
    Taking the elevator down, I took care to keep my cap down and gaze averted. All the same, I almost bumped into two guys loitering outside our building. One was slightly obese and towered head-and-shoulders above me. The other was just shy of six-foot, with swept back greying hair and a neat goatee.
    I stepped around them and continued on my way. When I passed the next block of flats, I scowled at the massive billboard mounted on the wall facing.
    ‘Report the Mutant!’ read the caption in bold, red lettering over three-feet tall. The accompanying image depicted a man with a cleft lip as well as six fingers and toes. He looked mournfully at his two children, a young boy and girl, who were tarnished with the same deformities. They stared dejectedly back at him, their pitiful lives the result of no one having had the courage to turn him into the authorities before he procreated. The sign’s message was clear – if mutants were not dobbed in, their children would pay the price.
    How I loathed that billboard! Cleft lips were correctable with surgery, and so what if they had six fingers and toes? That was a bonus as far as I was concerned – just think of the advantage that would give them with improved grip, balance, and dexterity. The father and his children were in no way less human than normals, and had just as much right to live peacefully as everyone else. I utterly resented the town’s practice of terminating unborn babies, children or adults found with mutations.
    I forced my mind onto more positive thoughts and continued to the Recycling Works. My brother had given me an impromptu guided tour of the town last week when we turned eighteen and it had granted him the authority to act as my chaperone. One of the places he took me was his work, which was perfect timing, as I now knew where it was. Unfortunately, he wasn’t allowed to show me inside the facility.
    It took twenty minutes to walk there, but felt more like an hour, because of the fears and doubts that assailed my mind. Where was I supposed to go once I went through the gates? Would my disguise fool Brandon’s teammates? I knew who they were, of course, as they had dropped into our place to visit Brandon many times. But what if they asked me questions about things they’d done with Brandon? There were so many ways this could go pear shaped even before we got out of town to go foraging.
    The wooden gates of the Recycling Works stood wide open, so I took a deep breath and walked confidently into the yard. A dozen foragers milled around three beaten-up trucks. Behind them was a massive warehouse with a corrugated aluminium roof, and on my right was the office, a two-storey building with a glass foyer.
    My heart thumping wildly, I looked about for Brandon’s teammates, wondering what to do if I