Synthetic Dreams Read Online Free PDF

the cracked walls marked her bed frame, a chair, her lamp. Grit and dust thickened the bedroom’s single window. Her heart squeezed, but she fought the sudden push of emotion. It was just a room.
    Her brain kicked into gear. Half-hunched against the chance of being seen through the window, she scuttled across the room to the far dark corner. A smaller, shallower drop box opened in the floor and a revealed a small backpack with her premium gear. She shrugged it on and crawled into the front room. Another corner and another drop box. Her hard currency. She tucked the packets into the inner pockets of her trousers.
    “How did you know about my main drop box?”

    Paul moved away from the front room’s single window. “I said. I know you.” He took her arm again and strode towards what remained of the door. He paused at the shattered frame. The flickering light from the corridor caught on his sharp profile. His lips thinned before he spoke. “If we get separated, you head for the first floor escape ladder. Understood?”
    “If we get separated?”
    “I should say when .” His mouth twitched into a dark smile. “I may have to play with some of these people.”
    Vyn ignored the twist in her gut. He was very likely senior security because he loved the wet work. “That drops into one of the rubbish skips.”
    Paul glanced at her and his sharp expression gave her his low opinion of her smell.
    She had the sudden urge to kick him in the shin. She stopped herself. He would take out the security keeping a watch for her. “I want my electro-shock back.”
    Paul handed it to her, no objection, no warning. “Be careful.”
    “You trust me not to shock you?”
    “Do you see anyone else getting you out of here?” He drew two small handhelds from inside his jacket and released the safeties. His fingers flexed. And he stepped out into the corridor.

Chapter Four
    The sudden explosion of noise and stark white light erupted into the dead silence of her front room. A peppering of projectiles, screams and dull thumps cut the air.
    She almost yelped when a hand grabbed her arm, but she recognised Paul’s hard touch. “This will bring more of them.”
    “That can’t be helped.”
    He tugged her out into the corridor and towards the back stairwell. Black-armoured bodies littered the floor, the ripples of energy in the walls raining sparks. It would interfere with their surveillance gear—still, that glitch would bring others. Then they would find their dead.
    The window at the end of the corridor exploded inwards, streaming tiny shards of glass through the air. Before she could react or cry out, a canister hit the floor.
    Vyn acted on instinct. Eyes shut. Ears blocked. Mouth open. Light seared her eyelids, the sharp detonation of the thunder-flash sending a dulled roar through her skull. She staggered, the acrid burn of smoke hot in her lungs.
    A firm hand grabbed her elbow and propelled her forward. Her boots slipped on the narrow concrete steps and she fought to find her balance.
    “You’ve had a thunder-flash thrown at you before.”
    It wasn’t really a question. Or so she thought. His voice was dulled, nuance almost lost. If he knew her, then he’d know how influential her family was. She’d had hostage training at a young age. The important stuff had stuck.
    She stretched her jaw, her boots still pounding down the steps, the swirls of yellow gas tracing the air around them. Some of the building’s air filters kicked in, identifying a toxin and clearing the corridors and stairwells.
    No window on the next floor—it had been barricaded with bars and sheet metal years before—but the floor was thick with security. Paul’s handhelds blazed, slicing away limbs, puncturing armour and ripping the energy from the walls. Sparks caught, and fire chased along the ceiling. Blistering alarms ripped through the air.
    She took to the next set of stairs, and a sudden surge of tenants wrapped around her. She lost Paul in the melee.