Read Tankbread 02 Immortal for Free Online Page B

people living in tight conditions for a long time.
    In the vast empty metal chamber beyond lay a tent city. Each small area was marked off with grey and stained hanging sheets. People talked, laughed, swore, and coughed in the gloom. The electric lights stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Guttering oil lamps hung sporadically throughout the open space, straining to burn in the foul air.
    Else blinked at the huddled mass of faces that turned to stare at her with open curiosity. The girl walked confidently along the narrow path between the clustered families and tugged on the arm of a man standing half-hidden in the gloom. He leaned over and looked down the girl’s pointing arm to where Else stood, wary and alert, scanning the strange crowd from the doorway.
    The girl returned, the man in tow. He wore a patched shirt, the red check pattern on it faded to a bloodless pink. His thick beard and roughly cut hair framed cold blue eyes that stared at Else as he calculated the value of the woman at a glance. The girl held his hand as they approached.
    “Where the hell did you come from?” he said by way of greeting.
    “The land,” Else said. Still watching the peering faces, looking for any sign of her baby in the crowd.
    “Why’d you wanna come out here?” the man asked.
    “Looking for my baby. He got taken. A friend said the Sea People might have taken him.” Else casually lifted the machete and rested the back of the blade on her shoulder. “I’m here to take him back.”
    The bearded man regarded her for a long moment and Else stared back at him.
    “They call me Hob,” he said.
    “Else,” Else replied. “Where’s my baby?”
    “She’s already got one,” the girl said from her place by Hob’s waist.
    Else bared her teeth at the girl and tightened her grip on the machete handle.
    “Shut it, Sarah,” Hob said, one hand raising to cuff the girl. She shrank back and gave Else a dark look.
    “This is Lowanna, she isn’t mine. Her parents are both dead. My boy is only a couple of days old. He was in a little boat. The flood washed it up by where the river goes out to sea. When we found the boat, evols came and Jirra said they dressed like Sea People. We killed a lot of them, but Jirra didn’t make it. He was Lowanna’s father. Her mother died after she was born, a few days ago. So I’m looking after her now and I’ll ask you one more time. Where the fuck is my son?”
    Hob shrugged. “We got laws here. Laws keep things straight. You get a share of water. You get a share of food. You bring back salvage, you get a bigger share. We got another law. Law of salvage. You find it off ship, it’s yours. A gun, a tin of peaches, or a kid. All the same under salvage law.” Hob raised his voice as he recited the law, and the watching crowd murmured their agreement.
    “I’m not staying here. I just want my son.” Else shifted Lowanna in the sling to a more comfortable position on her hip. “If you don’t give him back, you’ll be the first to die.”
    Hob grinned and slowly turned his back on Else. “We got a dispute over salvage!” he shouted to the crowd. They grumbled and shifted in anticipation. “We got a law for that too!” he roared. The crowd agreed noisily.
    “When two parties are at odds and no agreement can be reached, let them decide it between themselves. One fight. One winner. End of story!” Hob was talking to them and Else. She could see the way they responded, the way his words roused them from the stupor of living in such close and desperate misery.
    These people wanted to see someone else suffer. They wanted blood on the walls, broken bones and shattered teeth. They wanted their frustration and fear to be crushed. They wanted a victory and damn the cost. No glory could be too small or remote. Else aimed to disappoint them.
    The gathered throng came alive. They leapt and crawled over each other, scampering up the walls on ropes and onto ledges with the practiced ease of monkeys, or