Free Hurt World One and the Zombie Rats by Stuart Parker

First you are going
to take on Meltman and his army. In that it is likely you are going
to get at least a little bit hurt. A little bit or a lot. And then
you are going to rush off and take on Mas, who is not an army, but
certainly very talented when it comes to either maiming or killing
people. It is too much to expect to survive.’
    ‘I’m sorry you feel that way ‘cause I want
you to come along. I don’t know anything about black bears. Least
of all where to take one.’
    Noice frowned warily. ‘Alright, I’ll come
along to give directions. I also know the way to the best hospital
for snake monkey bites - some of the world’s leading researchers
are based right here in Asylum City. When you make your move on the
Meltman Express, you might find some comfort in knowing that. Of
course, you might not if you knew the reason the researchers are
based here is because of the ready supply of victims they have
access to. Nice, juicy bites that have all its poison’s horrendous
symptoms on full display.’
    Kaptu shrugged. ‘I’ve been bitten by
worse.’
    There was a flash of fire in Noice’s eyes. ‘I
hope you’re not referring to my daughter.’
    Kaptu looked around the apartment for any
trace of her. There was nothing. Perhaps, that was why the room
seemed drab to him despite all its paraphernalia. Kaptu had heard
she had married and moved to the Mali sector. He tried not to think
about her. Kaptu patted Noice on the shoulder. ‘Come on, let’s go
get you a bear to cuddle.’
     
    *
     
    The steel tracks were beginning to tremble.
The Meltman Express was not far away. How many carriages would
there be? Each one carried about twenty debtors and in tough times
like these, there were a lot of debtors to deal with. Fifteen
carriages? More? The train did endless loops of Asylum City and for
the passengers, it was a one way trip unless somehow their accounts
could be settled. If death eventuated, which was a regular
occurrence, the body would be tossed into the front carriage, food
for the black bear that lived there - simply another meal to be
had. The Meltman would usually consider that as a sufficient
balancing off the books. But if he was still not satisfied, he
would have a family member or friend replace the debtor. He had
been known to wipe out entire families that way. Not that customers
didn’t keep coming. People needed money to live, and the Meltman
would lend large sums readily when banks had turned their backs. He
was not concerned by risky loans. He enjoyed his train.
    Kaptu Z was waiting for it on Banaba Bridge
in the heart of the Kiribali zone. He was hanging off one of the
steel girdles beneath the roadway. He wanted the waiting to end. He
didn’t like waiting for any kind of action unless there was a plan
to occupy his mind. Still, he could focus on those vibrations; the
Meltman Express ran on an old vintage combustion engine and was
giving the ground a fair shake. Kaptu had misjudged how far away
the train actually was and been left dangling off the bridge longer
than was comfortable. His hands were starting to tire and with all
those weapons weighing down his body he was not about to climb back
up for a spell.
    Kaptu was twenty eight years old: he did not
have an official birth date but instead a found date . His parents had at
least made the effort of abandoning him in the Kashmir zone, where
the local Army Base took in such babies as future recruits. Kaptu
had received a well-rounded though quite deadly education. He had
served ten years in the Asylum City police force, reaching the rank
of lieutenant in the homicide squad before being released into the
United Nations’ Hurt World Agency. It had required a significant
exit fee, enough to train and equip four new police officers, and
Kaptu paid it himself. He used the reward money for the safe return
of a kidnapped aid worker in the Mali Square ghetto. Kaptu finished
that episode dangling from the balcony of a burning skyscraper
seventy floors