Read Toxicity for Free Online

that.”
     
    “Fuck you, Zanzibar. All I’m
saying is, no matter how hard she is, my cock is harder. And bigger. And man,
would I give her a good time long time. I’d ride her like a fucking donkey. I’d
fuck her like a fucking donkey. She’s lean, and mean, and if I got my hands on
those little titties she’d be moaning and creaming in my hand before you could
squeal ‘Give it to me, Big Boy.’”
     
    The group of squaddies laughed,
many uneasily and casting nervous glances about, and Jones threw down his cards
and cracked open another beer. It was hot, and he was bare-chested, his upper
physique criss-crossed with scars from downtown knife-fights. His dark eyes
burned with a fever as he pictured in his mind’s eye the tight hard little body
of his Squad Leader, Jenny Xi.
     
    “Well, that’s an interesting
point of view,” came a soft voice from the shadows, and the squad - all except
Jones - jumped. “But then, there’s always one in the crew who has his brain
hard-wired to his cock. In the middle of a firefight, BAM! There he goes again,
ruining his pants.”
     
    Jones half-turned, a sneer on his
face. “Little lady, I knew you was there all the time.”
     
    Jenny Xi stepped forward, and
coolly lit a narrow, evil-looking cigarette. She had long auburn hair, lightly
curled, now tied back. Her face was narrow, pretty, tanned, her body tall and
lithe, powerful and athletic. She wore dark combat fatigues and a khaki shirt,
open at the neck and showing her dog-tags. Although this little unit weren’t
strictly military - or at least, not employed by Amaranth’s resident standing
army, navy or air force - they were mostly ejc-forces; all disgraced one way or
another. And somehow, they had found their way here, crawled their way into the
welcoming arms of the anti-Toxicity movement known as Impurity. “Good
people putting a bad world right.” That was one of the many anti-Greenstar
slogans. Anti-Company slogans. ECO terrorist slogans...
     
    “I wondered why you had a
hard-on,” she said, blowing out smoke.
     
    Jones scowled. “That ain’t for
you, bitch. That’s for the killing.”
     
    “Interesting,” muttered Jenny,
rubbing her chin, watching the group. They were all hard-nuts, with polished
guns and combat boots. Some had SMKKs, some D4 shotguns. They were a battered,
scarred, hardened bunch. She’d seen it all before. But now she was their
new Squad Leader and she couldn’t let the slur stand; and besides, sometimes
she just liked a fight.
     
    Jenny moved to Jones, who refused
to turn and acknowledge her. As if, by continuing to present his broad,
heavily-muscled back, he was showing a lack of fear; as if tilting his lifted
chin and grinning was a fuck-you middle finger to authority. But there was no
authority. Cut the shit. They were a terrorist squad intent on bringing down
the twisted government of the Greenstar Recycling Company. Intent on restoring
their once-peaceful green and pleasant land back to being a green and
pleasant land. Although with every million tonnes of shit dumped in the sea,
every million tonnes of toxic sludge poured down mines drilled for this very
purpose, for every million tonnes of old tyres, smashed bottles, crap and shit
and heavy metal landfill...
     
    Well. In her heart, Jenny Xi knew
that the day would never come.
     
    No matter what Old Tom had once
dreamed...
     
    Toxicity was the dumping ground
for the civilised galaxy of Manna.
     
    And Manna, despite the claim of
being a perfect Utopia... well.
     
    It would always need a toilet.
     
    Jenny moved close behind Jones,
noting the many scars on his back. She moved close, and leant, blowing smoke in
his ear. “You know what they say about a man with scars on his back?” She
grinned, voice barely above a whisper but suddenly the card games, the
drinking, the back-slapping boasts were all forgotten; now Jenny and Jones were the centre of attention. The night’s amusement. A game for bored
soldiers on