Free The Glass Kingdom by Chris Flynn Page B

off and cracked the window. It was like a furnace out there. Why these parents didn’t just wait until evening was beyond me. I guess they thought being out at the show with their screaming offspring was a better option than being stuck in the house with them. Steph was right about that much. No way we were going down that road, no way. I’d be hiring a fucken nanny to do all that shit for me. And if the kids wanted to play, well, we’d just step off the front deck onto the beach. You won’t see me being dragged around Big Dubs on a Sunday afternoon. I’ll be kicking back in a hammock, beer in my hand, watching the kids splash in the surf while I mentally count my money. A house on the Gold Coast, a couple of dirt bikes in the garage and a big fuck-off four-wheel-drive parked outside? Fucken perfect. If Steph was up for playing the dutiful wife and mother, well, maybe it was worth the hassle. I could pretend to be a good family man, sit on the local council or some shit. No one would suspect a fucken thing.
    â€˜I don’t think it’s unrealistic, this dream.’ She wasn’t talking to me anymore now. ‘It’s not out of reach like the ones I hear from all those women who seek me out on the Kingdom. This one is possible, and best of all it’s up to us. We’ll have a son one day, you and me. You wait and see. His little neck will smell like my pop’s hair pomade, and he’ll squeeze me tighter than anyone ever has.’
    A hot wind blew in through the window. I closed my eyes and winced. We were locked in a queue of traffic, waiting to get through the entrance. With the feel of warm air on my neck and Steph’s soft voice imagining some chakra-aligned future we might or might not have, I began to drift.
    I was in the back of a truck rolling down some desert road. The heat was heavy and suffocating, pressing down on my torso. A burning sensation pulsed in my chest, making me think the dressing needed changing. I sat up painfully, groggy from the heat and medication. I carefully peeled back the edge of the bandage to peer underneath. The wounds were still raw and inflamed, still made my stomach churn. I stuck the dressing down and leaned my temple against the cool metal frame of the truck, feeling the vibrations of the engine drilling into my skull.
    Another man lay on a stretcher opposite me. He was absorbed in reading something on his Kindle, seemingly oblivious to the fact his right leg was missing below the knee. Woozily, I shuffled along the bench to the rear, where a soldier in combat gear sat quietly smoking as he looked out at the Humvee travelling behind us, just visible in the darkness. His M4 lay unsecured across his lap, bouncing with the movement of the vehicle like it might fall out onto the dusty road at any minute. Without speaking, he offered me a cigarette. I desperately wanted one but I had to refuse. Doctor’s orders.
    I stared out at the black desert, glad for a cool breeze on my skin. The sky lit up briefly in the distance, off to the east. The sound of a faraway explosion reached our ears a moment later, a low rumbling echo, comforting in its familiarity. Several more bright streaks punctured the horizon: Hydra rockets released from the belly of an Apache gunship. They vanished into the darkness only to be replaced a second later by a starburst of fire as they found their target. Another enemy destroyed, or maybe one of our own. We could never be certain.
    â€˜Ben. Ben, are you even listening?’
    Steph clicked her fingers. I snapped back and nodded.
    â€˜Yeah, yeah. The Gold Coast. Something about dinosaurs.’
    Irritated, she pointed to the gap that had opened up between us and the car in front. I slipped the gearstick into drive and we rolled forward another twenty metres. In the distance the engine brakes of an eighteen-wheeler moaned from the highway, a great monster taking a breath.

Two of the six streetlamps in the row were