The Man From U.N.D.E.A.D.'s Christmas Carol Read Online Free PDF Page B

around. There was an audible gasp.
    “ That can ’ t be right, ” the first voice said in surprise and wonder.
    “ No, it ’ s wronger than flares and afghan coats, ” my saviour agreed, “ but the Boss ’ ll want to speak to him for sure. ”
    “ Better patch him up then, ” the first voice, which clearly belonged to the man in charge, ordered.
    My head was lifted up and something was placed at my lips. Liquid poured down into my throat and I started to cough. An activating spell was spoken and suddenly I could hear again p roperly, my head no longer swam and I seemed to be able to move my arms and feet more normally. I still ached like someone had taken a lump hammer to me with enthusiasm, but I was alive and I could function.
    “ What the cr... ? ”
    “ You don ’ t get to talk, ” one of the soldiers said urgently and pointed a large gun at my face. “ Until the Boss tells you to. ”
    Moments later I couldn ’ t have talked if I ’ d wanted to as all sound was dro wned out by the roar of aeroplanes passi ng overhead at a very low altitude . The whole of the vehicle shuddered and was buffeted by the downwash from the aircraft, slewing from side to side.
    “ Paste the ugly sods! ” one of the soldiers yelled and apparently the aircraft did just that because there was a series of devastating explosions that were so closely spaced they resolved into one continuous roar of sound. A shockwave lifted the rear of the vehicle and pushed it alon g for quite a distance before finally dissipating and leaving the armo ured personnel carrier to drive along under its own steam (or internal combustion or nuclear fusion or whatever it was that actually powered it) for a while.
    Eventually, the vehicle slowed and came to halt. The crew were challenged and the leader left the vehicle to speak to the challenger. I wasn ’ t able to overhear the conversation or the passwords used and the soldier who was guarding me was well enough trained not to be fooled by my pretence at moving around just to get comfortable. Saving me was one thing, but giving me the comforts of home life was quite something else. I was more interested in what they were saving me for. Something to do w i th my face they had said, but as far as I could tell it was the same face that I had always had. I hadn ’ t been given the chance to look into a mirror to check, of course, but it certainly felt the same.
    The code words were apparently acceptable to whoever had demanded them and the APC moved forward again, driving out of the merciless sunlight and into a darkened space where it stopped and I was ordered to get out.
    “ The Channel Tunnel, ” I recognised the place right off. One of the regular tasks undertaken by U.N.D.E.A.D. was to sweep out the Gremlins that liked to hide in the tunnel and hitch a ride on the passing trains, chewing o n the power and brake relays. Getting rid of them was a tedious, thankless task and so the Director reserved it for those who had caused her particular annoyance since the last sweep.
    “ What do you know about it? ” the soldier guarding me demanded, surprised and angry at the same time.
    “ Not a lot apparently, ” I told him, looking around at the familiar place that was no longer so familiar. Though it was undeniably the Channel Tunnel, something fairly catastrophic had happened to it . The end of the tunnel had collapsed, completely filling the aperture. This was, I presumed, an illusion cast to camouflage whatever use the tunnel was being put to since the APC had encountered no trouble in entering the cave. The damage that had been done to the interior of the tunnel was no illusion however. Whole chunks of the wall had fallen out and sections of it had collapsed onto the rails, many of which had been removed where they hadn ’ t been buried under the debris . There were scorch marks in various places and the whole surface seemed to be pockmarked with what looked like bullet holes. There were plastic