Lifer Read Online Free PDF

sit and wait for retribution.
    Happy not to have added to the body count, I turn back toward the wide street where people are moving. I head toward it at a casual pace, belying the skip of my pulse. I’m just an ordinary guy out for a walk. Except my stomach is tight, I have no memory of who I am, and I’ve left a dead kid in a shallow pool behind me.
    I linger at the corner. In front of me is an open square, dominated by rows of rough stalls selling everything from dark green leafy vegetables I can’t name, to polished-up vehicle parts. At the stall nearest to me, an old lady hawks a deep fried delicacy. The honey-brown coating glistens in the early morning sun as she places it to cool on a wire rack. My gut emits a loud growl. I glance around to make sure no one hears.
    The roads away from the square lead up and down hills that look like a frozen wave in the earth. Buildings are cracked, windows gaping. People’s faces don’t reflect the destruction surrounding the market oasis. No one looks my way. They are all far too busy. Buying. Selling. Hurrying about their business.
    I exhale a breath of relief. I don’t even look too out of place. Others wear jackets and pants like mine, and still more people wear dark green robes like the boy’s. I avoid looking at them for too long.
    One woman stands out. She wears a gray one-piece uniform and moves with an air of command that I retreat back into the alleyway, even as I observe. Her gaze scans the market and she avoids those in green robes. Curious. I’m not having much luck working out who’s in charge here. The woman stops at the old lady’s stall and points. The old lady hurries to respond and then holds out her hand for payment. It’s knocked aside by the woman and the old lady cowers.
    If gray shirt is what passes for authority, I’m better off keeping my head down until I know more, considering I’ve left a body in that garden. When she takes a bite of the deep fried food and juices drip down her chin I stifle a groan.
    I should be frantic to solve the puzzle of my mind, but the hunger clawing at my belly dominates everything else. I double-check the pockets of the jacket I’m wearing. Fortunately they’re empty, so my disrespect ends at stealing the dead kid’s clothes. I’m not tempted to take his money as well.
    Standing here isn’t going to get me the sustenance I need. The sooner I explore the market, the sooner I’m able to escape those in green robes. Hopefully before the boy reports in and they start looking for me.
    Wary and watchful, I move into the market proper, my eyes scanning for an opportunity. But there’s nothing. No leftover food. No credit sticks dropped on the litter-strewn ground. In a few minutes, I reach the other side and the stalls give way to another road. A two-foot chasm buckles the center of the roadway. As I watch, a motorcycle flirts with the edge before accelerating away.
    The row of bars and restaurants on the other side of the broken road glow with welcoming neon signs. The food odors drifting in my direction make my mouth moisten.
    Maybe I can work in exchange for food and water.
    I cross the road, shoulders hunched. I’m taller than those around me and don’t want to stand out. I walk straight past the first building. The exotic couples in the images out front and the darkened windows make me suspicious of the services offered inside. I’m not that desperate.
    The next establishment offers ‘Food, brew, and good times’ according to their sign. I don’t even get in the front door before a muscled guy with a black moustache informs me, “No credit. No entry,” in a tone I don’t care to argue with.
    The next place is called ‘Gan’s Gaming Bar.’ The plain black and white sign looks new and the mottled gray windows block the view inside, but the absence of both naked women and intimidating doormen makes it worth a try. The big glass door opens silently.
    Inside, a dozen cubicles line each wall, and big soft