Chapters (45)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Contents
- Prologue
- 2046
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- About the Author
Still the rage in him builds and rushes through. Her eyes change from angry to imploring to a glimmer of hope that offends him. The trite bollocks spilling from her mouth and that earnest look trying to goad him into reacting like he is something special that deserves all this treatment. He hates it. He hates himself for what she did last night. He hates himself for feeling this way. The self-loathing consumes him and makes him hate everything. The repugnance at his own existence renders her words meaningless.
‘You’re more than you know. You gave hope to so many. You meant courage and decency. I saw you . . . I saw you, Ben. Be that man now. Be Ben Ryder . . . for fuck’s sake . . . BE BEN RYDER . . . BE MY BEN RYDER . . .’
‘What?’ He stops suddenly with the shock of her words banishing the hate-fuelled anger from his mind. In that second he becomes very aware of the grip on her hand and slackens it off as a crimson blush grows in her cheeks.
‘Safa . . .’ He blinks at her in confusion.
‘Fuck yourself,’ she snarls, stepping away from him with a look of disgust on her face. ‘You’re not Ben Ryder . . . go fucking die . . .’
‘Safa.’ He starts after her but she goes fast. Marching back down the corridor, leaving him in a silence that rings in his ears and feels like the sting in his cheeks.
He heads outside and grabs a pistol from the table. Safety on. Magazine out. He feeds rounds into the top and slams it back into the butt. Be my Ben Ryder. He moves to the line. Safety off. Arms raised. Firing. Be my Ben Ryder. He empties the first magazine before realising he doesn’t have ear defenders on but it feels nice. Like the recoil and noise are blotting the thoughts out from his head.
He reloads, but this time he loads several magazines and pistols at the same time and carries them over to the table next to the firing line. Be my Ben Ryder. He fires. His mind replays every word they just said and the look in her face when she told him to go and die. He deserved it. He is a selfish, horrible man. He fires into paper targets and changes weapons to feel the difference in weight and recoil, adjusting to aim so he can get the holes nearer the centre. Safa is carrying him. She’s done everything to get him through this and for what? For someone she glimpsed once dragging a corpse down a train track?