Free Synthetica by Rachel Pattinson Page A

walk away. It was now nearly six
and the sky had begun to turn into the dusky blues and purples that
announced the coming of night. Tiny stars winked overhead, just
visible over the soft glow of the street lamps. The streets were
almost deserted as everyone hurried home to their pre-prepared
dinner after a hard day's work. Anais stopped as she heard the noise
again. It sounded like someone, or something, crying. A chill ran
down her spine.
    It was coming from the small street to her left. The street lamps
only illuminated the first few metres at the opening of the alley,
the rest was in a pool of darkness. Anais hesitated, debating
whether to carry on her journey and call the police when she was
safely home, or to go and investigate. The cry came again, and
Anais' curiosity won out.
    She peered into the entrance of the street, but couldn't make
anything out through the gloom. It was a walkway between the blocks
of hi-rise flats that made up most of the residential areas in the
city. Anais walked forward cautiously, her eyes gradually adjusting
the gloom after the soft pale glow of the lamps that lined the
street behind her. Her RetCom bleeped, informing her that she was
going the wrong way, but she dismissed the warning.
    It soon became clear to Anais as she walked slowly forward, her
gaze flickering around the smooth paved walkway and the walls
towering above her, that there was nothing there. She was just about
to give up and turn back, when the cry came again – now that she
was closer, she could hear it much more clearly. It was lower now –
more like a moan than a cry for help. It was unmistakably the sound
of someone in pain. The groan came again, and the hairs stood up on
the back of Anais' neck. She walked a few steps forward, her heart
pounding, until she came to another walkway that intersected the one
she was on. She peered round the corner, and her heart stood still.
    There, not ten metres away, was a man standing over a limp heap on
the ground. He had a brick in his hand and as Anais watched, he
raised it above his head. The heap of clothes at his feet jerked and
cried out.
    “ Please,”
a man's voice moaned. His voice was muffled and he was clearly
trying to choke back the pain he was feeling. “Please – stop. I
don't -”
    The
man standing over him didn't even appear to hear his victim's pleas.
He merely raised the brick higher and brought it heavily down
through the air, so it smashed with a sickening wet crack over
the injured man's head.
    “ No!
Stop!”
    The shrill shout was out, hanging in the air before Anais realised
it was her voice. She began to run forward, but stopped dead in her
tracks as the attacker turned and stared at her. For a long, frozen
moment, neither of them moved. They remained fixed on each other,
her pale green eyes locked onto his sickly yellow ones. Anais
couldn't help shuddering slightly – it wasn't the odd colour of
his eyes (plenty of people in the city had hideous coloured eyes,
all in the name of fashion), it was the fact that he was clearly
looking at her, and yet, not seeing her at all. The blankness of his
gaze, as though he was staring straight through her, was unnerving.
Anais' heart was in her throat. She wanted to move forward, to go to
the aid of the man lying in a steadily spreading pool of blood, but
she was afraid that if she moved first, the man would decide to
attack her instead.
    As she stared at him, the man's eyes flickered and went dull.
Silently, without any warning, he crumpled to the ground, the
bloodied brick landing beside him with a dull thud. He started to
convulse, his eyes bulging, his arms and body jerking horribly.
Something dark dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, staining his
chin. Anais watched, frozen in horror as he choked and gargled,
before he finally went still, his eyes now staring blankly up at the
star strewn sky. Without waiting to see if he would get back up,
Anais ran forward and knelt beside the wounded man, who was