Read Year of the Flood: Novel for Free Online Page B

scientist. I studied epidemics, I counted diseased and dying animals, and people too, as if they were so many pebbles. I thought that only numbers could give a true description of Reality. But then —”
    “Piss off, dickhead!”
    “But then, one day, when I was standing right where you are standing, devouring — yes! — devouring a SecretBurger, and revelling in the fat thereof, I saw a great Light. I heard a great Voice. And that Voice said —”
    “It said, ‘Get stuffed!’“
    “It said, Spare your fellow Creatures! Do not eat anything with a face! Do not kill your own Soul! And then …”
    Toby felt the crowd, the way they were poised to surge. They’d stomp this poor fool into the ground, and the little Gardener children with him. “Go away!” she said as loudly as she could.
    Adam One gave her a courtly little bow, a kindly smile. “My child,” he said, “do you have any idea what you’re selling? Surely you wouldn’t eat your own relatives.”
    “I would,” Toby said, “if I was hungry enough. Please go!”
    “I see you’ve had a difficult time, my child,” said Adam One. “You have grown a callous and hard shell. But that hard shell is not your true self. Inside that shell you have a warm and tender heart, and a kind Soul …”
    It was true about the shell; she knew she’d hardened. But her shell was her armour: without it she’d be mush.
    “This asshole bothering you?” said Blanco. He’d loomed up behind her, as he was in the habit of doing. He put his hand on her waist, and she could see it even without looking at it: the veins, the arteries. Raw flesh.
    “It’s okay,” said Toby. “He’s harmless.”
    Adam One showed no sign of dislodging himself. He carried on as if no one else had spoken. “You long to do good in this world, my child —”
    “I’m not your child,” said Toby. She was more than aware that she wasn’t anyone’s child, not any more.
    “We are all one another’s children,” said Adam One with a sad look.
    “Scram,” said Blanco. “Before I knot you!”
    “Please leave or you’ll get injured,” said Toby as urgently as she could. This man had no fear. She lowered her voice, hissed at him: “Piss off! Now!”
    “It is you who will be injured,” said Adam One. “Every day you stand here selling the mutilated flesh of God’s beloved Creatures, it’s injuring you more. Join us, my dear — we are your friends, we have a place for you.”
    “Get your fuckin’ paws off my worker, you fuckin’ pervert!” Blanco shouted.
    “Am I bothering you, my child?” said Adam One, ignoring him. “I certainly haven’t touched …”
    Blanco came out from behind the booth and lunged, but Adam One seemed used to being attacked: he stepped to the side, and Blanco rocketed forward into the group of singing children, knocking some of them down and falling down himself. A teenaged Linthead promptly hit him over the head with an empty bottle — Blanco wasn’t a neighbourhood favourite — and he sank down, bleeding from a gash on his head.
    Toby ran around to the front of the grilling booth. Her first impulse was to help him up because she’d be in big trouble later if she didn’t. A pack of Redfish pleebrats was mauling him, and some Asian Fusions were working on his shoes. The crowd moved in around him, but now he was struggling to right himself. Where were his two bodyguards? Nowhere to be seen.
    Toby felt curiously exhilarated. Then she kicked Blanco’s head. She did it without even thinking. She felt herself grinning like a dog, she felt her foot connect with his skull: it was like a towel-covered stone. As soon as she’d done it she realized her mistake. How could she have been so dumb?
    “Come away, my dear,” said Adam One, taking her by the elbow. “It would be best. You’ve lost your job in any case.”
    Blanco’s two thug pals were back now, and were beating off the pleebrats. Although he was groggy, his eyes were open and they were fixed