The Glass Kingdom Read Online Free PDF Page B

didn’t even hear.
    I came down next to the thing that had once been Paulina Ludowyk and rolled onto my side so I didn’t have to look anymore. It felt like God had reached down and swatted me with his fist.
    That’s when I saw the second Hummer, the one I had just crawled out of, roll weirdly onto its side at the lip of the crater. It had been ripped down the middle by what could only have been a direct RPG hit. Maybe I was concussed, I don’t know. I lay there in the muck, unable to move, watching it crumble like a tower of Lego knocked over by a kid having a tantrum. I couldn’t look away.
    One of the back wheels popped off the axle and pinged straight up in the air, the burning rubber leaving a trail of black smoke against the clear blue sky. The passenger-side door whooshed high over my head, a smoking frisbee. The whole thing happened in one second flat, maybe two, but every detail was clear.
    The fuel tank ignited then and a beautiful orange jet of flame blossomed outwards, reaching down to caress me. I scrabbled feebly back in the dirt. The fire loomed over me like a phoenix finally freed from its egg. Then it fell upon me, claws tearing at my flesh.
    I jerked awake, slick with sweat. Instinctively I placed a palm on my chest and concentrated on slowing my breathing. The scar tissue was hot to the touch, tender. I traced the raised lines with my fingertips.
    Steph was next to me, splayed on her back, one arm over her head clutching at the pillow. There was a faint patch of stubble in her armpit and her face was partially obscured by her mop of blonde hair. She was dead to the world, a ragdoll. Once she was out, you practically had to spray her with a hose to wake her.
    The sheets were a tangle around Steph’s knees, kicked off in the night. It had been a hot one. I took in her elongated body, and stroked the smooth burn mark on her hip. It was the only real blemish on her body—she complained about her arse, like most women I know, but I couldn’t see a thing wrong with it. Her burn had been obtained in less dramatic fashion than mine, while ironing in the nude, long before we met.
    She didn’t stir, even when I let my fingertips skate over the skin of her belly to the top of her trimmed pubic hair. She kept it short in summer and grew it out as winter approached, then went back to a fuzzy strip or some other shape in spring (a downward pointing arrow one time—she isn’t the subtlest of girls). I traced figure eights on the sharp bristles but she didn’t register until I pressed further down. Then she exhaled and turned her head towards me, opening her eyes slowly and smiling, then closing them again.
    â€˜Morning,’ she breathed.
    â€˜You awake?’
    â€˜I am now.’
    I was going to tell her I’d had the dream again but she arched her back and reached across to start stroking my dick. It was how we began a lot of mornings, and as she made me come the lingering memories of the burning were banished.
    After, as I stared up at the stains on the ceiling of her trailer, a dull pain began pulsing in my left ear and I remembered what had happened the night before.
    I stood up gingerly, a series of aches becoming instantly apparent. I’d taken a few knocks, though nothing like what Mikey had copped.
    I’d come to sleep with Steph after bedding him down in my trailer. I wouldn’t normally let anyone other than Steph in there but I could hardly have taken him back to the communal bunks. Steph was still awake, just, and she had cleaned me up and rubbed one of her magic ointments into my arms and back. I don’t know if it did any good, but I slept well enough after that and a couple of Panadeine Forte.
    Mikey was badly shaken up. He was bleeding from the nose and mouth, but not so heavily as to suggest internal injuries. I’d seen that before—there was no mistaking a ruptured organ. His blood had mingled on my chest with that of the bloke