Migration Read Online Free PDF

whilst blades of grass shot up in the spaces and here and there little fuzzy yellow flowers and ivory white bells danced in the forest light.
    Eve knew the path so well, she made quick progress through the forest and was soon emerging into the sunshine that baked the slopes of the hill. Here the path grew dustier, almost disappearing into the rambling scrub and bushes. Eve spotted some wild sheep droppings and stopped to inspect them. They were fresh, which was good. The flock hadn’t been here for some days, they tended to move into the marshes when it was too hot, but if they were still nearby she might be able to catch one on her return. A sheep carcass would feed Eve for over a month, and with the hide she could perhaps make some slippers for the coming winter.
    As Eve moved around the foot of the hill, the Chute slowly crept into view, intensifying the stench in the air as it appeared. Eve brought a worn handkerchief from her pocket and wrapped it around her mouth and nose, tying a loose knot at the back of her head. It didn’t do very much, but it made her feel better. The stench was worst here, in the funnel between the two hills. When she moved further up the slope a little further along her path, the smell would ease and she would take the handkerchief off again, it was too suffocating in this heat.
    Almost opposite her now, the metal structure glinted in the midday sun. It was a gigantic tongue lolling out from the smooth concrete wall. It would flex and lap to direct the Dupes to different parts of the slope, occasionally spasming to clear a path or shift a particularly stubborn corpse. But now, before it started, and as soon as it was done, it would hang limp and lazy, drooling occasionally with the grease that kept it slippery and clean.
    Eve found her perch and slowly sank down into the long grass. She had sat in this spot so often that a small patch had formed, cleared by the daily cover of her torso and nervous picking of her fingers. She opened her rucksack and took out the bread she had stored earlier, tore of a piece and swallowed it, before washing it down with a sip of the still cool water.
    On the other side of the lake, a klaxon sounded three times and the Chute jerked into life. It traced a broad arc from right to left as if it were furtively checking that no one was watching. But Eve was watching. She saw its underside push past a couple of Dupes and create a small avalanche of bodies as they tumbled out of its path. She watched it rise a little higher and stiffen, before vibrating slightly and drooling once more onto the hillside. She knew they were coming.
    The first to fall was a man, probably in his late twenties, early thirties. His body was fit and muscular and his hair short and tidy. He came out feet first and slid so gently off the end of the Chute that he came to rest sitting perfectly upright on his knees, his head bowed gently forward.
    Another man followed him, slightly older this time and heavier set. Perhaps they were brothers Eve thought, maybe father and son, or just friends who had decided to migrate together. Not that it mattered now. This one twisted awkwardly on its way down and flailed chaotically over the end, crashing into his bowing predecessor and sending them both another twenty metres down the rotting slope.
    Next to fall was a woman. Eve couldn't tell her age as she came face down for the length of the ride, but she noticed the tattoo on the small of her back. It was a dark blue script that snaked beautifully around the tops of her hips and small of her back. She was too far away for Eve to make out the words, but she hoped it was the name of someone she loved, or children who had felt her arms encircle them once upon a time.
    The tattoo reminded her of her own vigil. She had come here so often, watched the macabre parade of death for so many days, that sometimes she forgot to look for his tattoo and would frantically retrace the geometry of new arrivals to make sure she