John Booth - Hellogon

HELLOGON

by

JohnBooth

Published byNight Publishing, Smashwords edition

Copyright 2010,John Booth

ISBN978-1-4523-9559-3

Thank you fordownloading this e-book. You are welcome to share it with yourfriends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed fornon-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its completeoriginal form.

All charactersare fictional, and any resemblance to anyone living or dead isaccidental.

To discoverother books by John Booth, please go tohttp://www.nightpublishing.com/id47.html.

THEESTABLISHMENT

Prime Rulesfor Engagement with the Enemy

Rule1

Never GambleUnless You Have No Choice

Rule2

Always MakeSure

Rule3

Discover TheLocal Politics

Rule4

Make FriendsAnd Use Them

Rule5

Trust NoOne

ChapterOne

Doorways

Peter Craigfollowed his mother through the busy city streets carrying thelarge rucksack containing all his worldly possessions. Shopperspacked the streets despite the seedy nature of this part of thecity.

The air smeltof melting tarmac, diesel fumes and fast food, blended togetherinto a fetid smorgasbord by the hot sun beating down on thestreets. Peters mother, Melinda Craig, Mel to everyone, carried alarge suitcase that had seen better days. Only one of its claspsworked and the only thing holding it together was a ragged leatherstrap, the last nine inches of which dragged along the pavement.Mel checked the A to Z of the city in her right hand as she triedto navigate them to their new home.

Less than anhour ago, they stepped down from a coach into the central busstation. At first the bustle of city life lifted Peters spirits,now it wore him down with each step they took and he longed to beback in the house in the country that had been his home his entirelife.

Its justdown this road, Peter. It wont be long now!

Mel trieddesperately to create feelings of adventure and enthusiasm in herson. Peter recognised the falsehood in his mothers voice despiteher skill in hiding it. After all, part of his training was torecognise lies, but he felt he needed to pretend too, if only forher sake. This whole mess was hardly her fault.

Cant wait,Mum. City lifes going to be so much more exciting than being inthe country. Peter spoke with as much false enthusiasm as he couldmuster, given how hot, tired and dirty he felt. His large wintercoat wouldnt fit into his rucksack so he wore it instead. It mighttake it days to dry out from the sweat he had poured into it overthe last half hour.

Drivers honkedtheir horns at each other for no apparent reason as Peter and Melmade their way down the street. It was long with three storyred-brick buildings on each side and only the narrowest ofalleyways leading off between the buildings. The street containedthe kind of shops desperate people use to buy or sell their fewpossessions. They passed a pawnbroker specialising in electronicand electrical gear.

A display oftelevisions that had seen better days stood stacked on top of eachother, all switched on with speakers blaring. The faces on thescreens varied from far too red to a sort of witch green. In theshop window, behind a set of iron bars Peter spotted a few electricguitars and amplifiers. He realised this was a shop of faileddreams and aspirations when it came down to it. You can buy someone elses dream and watch it fail foryou , he thought cynically as the weight ofhis possessions sat heavily across his shoulders.

The next shopon their side of the street had the name Sollys Furniture Emporium stencilled in big letters above its plate glass window. Thelarge unprotected window revealed old chairs, tables and sofaspiled up higgledy-piggledy inside.

How customerswere supposed to get close enough to examine any of it defeatedPeter. It looked more like a wreckers yard for scrapped furniturethan a working shop. A small fat bald man in sweat shirt and jeanswatched them pass from just inside the shop door. Peter and themans eyes met; the man nodded at him as if they knew each other.It shocked Peter enough to stop him dead in his tracks, resultingin the two people behind running into him. They came close toknocking him over and pushed past him muttering crude Anglo Saxonwords.

Come onPeter. Were just about there, Mel called out from somewhere aheadand Peter started walking again. The man in the shop had vanishedfrom sight while Peter had been trying to stay upright.

Mel found theaddress they were looking for in the next block. They passed anarrow alleyway, just wide enough for a small van to drive down,before coming to a Chinese fish and chip shop. A recessed door wasset in the wall beyond the chip shop frontage. Three dimly lit bellpush buttons adorned the recess. Mel pushed the top button andwaited. They couldnt hear whether a bell rang over the noise inthe street. After a couple of minutes of waiting in vain, Melpushed the button again and the door swung inwards violently as ifconnected to a giant spring.

A middle agedwoman with a lit cigarette dangling from her mouth and sour linesover her face stared accusingly at them, Wadya want? she asked,as if daring them to have a legitimate answer.

My namesMelinda Craig, Mel to my friends, and this is my son Peter. Iarranged to rent a bed-sit here a couple of days ago.

Whydinyusayso, the woman snapped at them and turned backinto the corridor, leaving the door open for them to come through.Melinda dragged her suitcase across the threshold and Peterfollowed reluctantly. Inside, a short hallway stopped at a set ofsteep narrow stairs. As Peter closed the door and shut the cityoutside, he felt staggered by how quiet it became. The hallwaystank of old cigarettes, stale beer and a sweet smell that seemedto be a cross between vomit and urine.

An old greyishcarpet gave way underfoot as though the floor boards beneath wererotten. The carpet had once possessed a pattern of which a fewtraces remained, but the pattern was impossible to distinguish. Theworst thing about the carpet was that it was sticky. Every stepPeter took required him to pull the soles of his shoe clear beforehe could move on. It felt like walking over a thin layer of wetchewing gum.

The womandisappeared up the stairs and around the corner before Mel managedto get her suitcase up onto the second step. Ill do it, Mum,Peter offered, moving in front of her to drag the suitcase up thestairs.

Be careful,Peter. The steps are very narrow. Mel cautioned as she pushed himupwards by his backpack. Somehow they managed to make it to the topof the stairs in one piece.

At the top ofthe flight they found a long landing going back in the directiontheyd come. At the far end they saw another flight of stairs. Thewoman waited impatiently for them at the foot of thestairs.

Halfway alongthe landing Peter saw a dark red door with 27A stencilled on it, adoor otherwise bare except for a spy hole and a Yale lock. Therewasnt a handle on the door, just a bent out metal plate on theYale lock.

We are in27B. Mel told Peter cheerfully as she took back her suitcase andstumbled along the landing. The thought of reaching their new homegave Mel a second wind. She scurried up the stairs after the womanbefore Peter managed to reach the first step. He felt so tired anddepressed it took him a full minute to get to the top of the flightand felt as if he was about to faint when he finally reached thetop.

The secondfloor landing was deserted. Peter walked forward a little warilywondering where his mother was. Another dark red door waited alongthe landing, identical to the one on the floor below except for thestencilling, which read 27B. Peter approached the door and found itajar. He pushed the door open and walked into the darkinterior.

The door openedinto a pitch black short hallway. Doors led off to the right andleft and a small amount of light showed from the gap underneath thedoor. The little hallway was oppressive and Peter felt as though hehad walked into an old box because the air was so stale. The doorto his right opened, flooding the hall with daylight and blindinghim.