Free Revolution by Shawn Davis, Robert Moore Page A

led his friend down the alleyway. Henry pulled away, balancing on his good leg while leaning against the alley wall.
        “They fired this gun at Prince before they grafted it to my hand. The bullets in Prince’s body are going to match the bullets in this gun. There’s no way out of it for me. You have to get out of here.”
        “Hey, if you’re innocent-”
        “You know the way the law works.”
        Rayne was stunned into silence for a moment. He had heard of people being put away for life for crimes that didn’t involve violence.
        “Go, Peter,” Henry said, turning so his other shoulder was leaning against the brick wall. He began hobbling toward the street.
        “I’ll help you, Henry,” Peter said, returning to his friend’s side and helping him along to the sidewalk.
        An anti-grav police cruiser pulled alongside the curb and a spotlight shined in their faces. A short way up the street other cruisers were doing the same to the former parade marchers and spectators.
        “Put your hands on your heads and step into the street,” an amplified voice droned over the car’s loudspeaker.
        “I really think you ought to go now, Peter,” Henry said, backing into the alley so he was shielded from the cruiser’s spotlight. Peter followed suit.
        Henry aimed his gun around the corner at the cruiser and fired. Peter planted himself against the wall as he listened to bullets ricochet off the cruiser’s metal hull. Henry had to duck around the corner as a hail of bullets tore the pavement apart where he had been standing moments before. The automated police-issue M-60 turned the pavement beneath their feet into concrete shrapnel and put holes in the brick wall as if it was made out of cardboard. Henry turned to his friend once more.
        “Go,” Henry said. “Someone has to make it out of here alive so people will know what really happened.”
        Rayne hesitated, but he knew his friend was right.
        “Okay, Henry,” he agreed, reluctantly. He turned and sprinted away as the cruiser opened up with a second barrage.
        Rayne continued running even when he heard the M-60 cease firing and recognized the distinctive firing of his friend’s gun. He glanced back over his shoulder to see a group of armored Federal Police Officers wrestling Henry to the ground. He knew there was nothing he could do for his friend now, so he kept running. Glancing over his shoulder again. he saw police officers chasing him down the alleyway.
        “Stop! Or we’ll shoot!” one of them shouted.
        Rayne didn’t stop. He continued to run, turned the corner, and sprinted into an abandoned parking lot. He heard the pavement behind him being ripped apart by automatic gunfire as he turned another corner and darted toward a nearby back street.
    Rayne spotted a manhole cover on the side of the road and knew it was his only chance. He bent down and tried to pry off the cover, but it wouldn’t budge. Bullets ricocheted all around him as he pushed until his fingers bled. Finally, the manhole cover slid aside and he plunged into the opening. He began a freefall into the city’s sewer system as metallic thunder echoed above him.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 8

The Sewers
     
        Campion strained with exertion as she worked out in her private gym, muscles rippling as she lifted free weights above her chest. She finished her last set of bench-pressing, wiped her forehead with a towel, and picked up a television remote control. She switched on the 3D television hovering on anti-grav plates above the treadmills and switched on the ten o’clock news. The empty suit on the screen was blurting out the media’s typical positive spin on the economy.
        “The Federal Reserve stated yesterday that there are signs the U.S. recession is easing, so they will be raising interest rates by one tenth of one percent,” the newscaster said.
        The recession is