Sunday, July 29, 2012

Dead Rite chapter 119.06

“Why is it so thick? The free paper they send out these days has more flyers than pages. This is more like The Mail on Sunday.”

White couldn't help the smile. “You know, sergeant? Sometimes I forget how young you are. You grew up with the internet, didn't you?”

“Pretty much, sir, yes. There weren't the machines you get these days, and the laptop I got was barely fast enough to run basic games.” He grinned and shook his head. “Do you remember when Windows 95 came out? We thought it was the bee's knees.”

“Not really. My point it that you've grown up with the internet. Anything you want is at your fingertips. Ebay, Amazon. Google. They're all a click away.” He nodded at the newspaper. “That's how we used to buy and sell second-hand goods. Anything you wanted, you looked in the classifieds first.”

“Right. Got you.” Peters looked back at the paper and put it back in the case, hesitating for a moment before dropping it on top of the pile. “Onward?”

“Onward.” White made his way toward the front door, his progress easing as he got closer by the relatively clean fanlight. A large pile of letters and circulars in front of the door rose to a height of several feet and boxes of books prevented it from being opened from outside.

“How does he get in and out, I wonder? That passage is a death trap.”

“Memory map.” White shone his torch up the stairs. Boxes and plastic bags crammed with rubbish lined both sides, but the path up the middle showed signs of constant use. He turned his attention to the sitting room door, behind which he could hear movement. “He places his feet exactly in the right place every time, through long practice.”

“At least the place will never get burgled.”

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