Blood of the Ancient - The Helix Rebellion saga #1

Chapter 18

Logan paced the inclining gravel road with his head down, kicking at any sizeable object in his path. A tin can left his foot and landed fiercely in an over-grown thorn bush at the side of the road, dropping down through the thicket like a coin in a slot machine. He was deep in thought as he continued along the high, tree-lined track that led out onto Squatter's Spar – the undisputed entrance of the Slums, and its vast trailer park bursting like overwhelmed bowels at the rear. It was a huge area that was once an open sports field, with many friendly games played in the past.

He could smell the slop and sewerage emanating from the river that ran alongside the slum pathway. It was known as The Trickle; its lack of water the main reason, but was also referred to as Malikan's Piss for its golden, coppery colour.

When the population had increased down in the Capital, Mayor Broadbent extracted the poor - and least desirable, and sent them with their limited belongings to start a new existence in the decaying North. Many were old and frail, crippled or injured - or just plain useless - with nothing to offer towards the Malikan way of life. Most died within days, or weeks – as the grim surroundings that had evolved the local populace into a desperate, angry breed, had swallowed them up - their only instinct now to fight, and most of them detested southerners.

As with any violent neighbourhood, a crime-lord had risen to the top, and maintained relative peace amongst the citizens of the Slums. A deal was mutually agreed that whatever wares or coins were stolen or pilfered, a small percentage went to the boss. If the tax wasn't paid - or the valuables were hidden, the unlawful act would be met with a bitter end.

Even for those who'd lived in the North their entire lives, it still wasn't the type of place you'd walk around late at night - especially when alone. But Logan didn't care about any of that right now, he had to clear his head, all his thoughts were clogging his mind.

Sylvia...could she really be the same one that Kyle wrote to in his journal? She'd been pregnant too...such a crazy coincidence, but it's certainly possible. Logan's thoughts were interrupted by a slum dweller - and his gang.

"Hey there," shouted the man. He looked like he'd been in a motorcycle accident, and was obviously malnourished. A dirty metal ring dangled from the skin between his nostrils, and the rusty blade he waved looked old and blunt. His four accomplices also carried weapons - ranging from nail bats to lengths of chain. Logan was aware of the danger he'd walked into, so calmed his mind to focus. Nose-ring waved his blade in Logan's view, and stepped forward. "Got any coins, bruv?" he asked, his head twisting around - checking for witnesses.

Logan sunk his hands deep into his pockets - they were empty. "If I did have anything, I'd give it to you."

Nose-ring offered a toothless grin. "Well that's a shame, ain't it?" He signalled the members of his gang, and two came forward, smiling at their prey.

The first attacker looked at Logan's boots, and ran an ugly brown tongue over his cracked lips, jingling the weapon in his hands. A battle-cry left his mouth, and he quickly flung a length of chain at Logan's ankles. Simultaneously, the second man ran forwards and swung a bat at his face. This was a tactical attack, Logan realised, and they'd obviously done it before. He quick-stepped the low chain and ducked the bat, countering with a swift punch to the chin of its owner. His fist connected with a crunch, and sent the bat-man backwards - landing with a bump on the broken street cobbles, he stayed down. Logan turned as the chain was bearing down on him again, swung viciously in a figure of eight, making him retreat with little steps towards the other waiting gang members. He quickly dropped to a knee - ducking the broken sword that swung at his neck from behind, and thrust out his open palms. The man with the chain hurtled through the air from the devastating force, and smashed against the side of a wooden building – knocking him unconscious. A dog howled at the intruders from inside.