The Road to Hell by Peter Cawdron Page A

went missing.”
    Although there were throngs of people all around them, Susan felt like she was talking to Harrison in private. There was something about his demeanour. He just listened. It was as though she’d known him all her life and he was prepared to hear without judging, listening without prejudice.
    “ At first it was incredibly painful. You never think you’ll get over it, you know. At the time, it seems like life had come to an end. But life moves on, like you said. It never stands still.”
    As they moved out from beneath the sea of market stalls, the rainfall increased, slowly building into a torrential downpour. They stepped out of the markets and dashed across a narrow alley and under a leaking shop front.
    “ Everything was being rebuilt,” Susan said, continuing on, oblivious to the rain dripping on her shoulder. “Not only the city, but our own lives. Eventually, we stopped thinking about her. Not deliberately, of course. It just kinda happened. Slowly, I guess, we forgot. Then, two days ago, those photos turned up and opened old wounds. For almost twenty years we thought she was dead and now it seems she’s alive.”
    “ How do you know it’s her?” asked Harrison.
    “ The birthmark on her right ankle. It’s pretty distinct and unique. You can see it clearly in the picture.”
    “ It could be a shadow,” replied Harrison, recalling the picture to mind. He really hadn’t notice the birthmark at all. But then again, he realised, he was probably focusing on other anatomical characteristics of the naked woman.
    “ I know it’s her. I know she’s alive out there somewhere.”
    “ How old are you?” asked Harrison.
    “ I’m twenty seven.”
    “ You don’t look it. So your sister disappeared when you were around eleven, when she was, what, eighteen or nineteen?”
    “ Nineteen going on thirty-five!” exclaimed Susan.
    Harrison smiled.
    “ Seems like yesterday,” said Susan. “I feel like I’ve been a teenager forever, like I’ve never really grown up. But Olivia, she seemed to skip those years and go right into adulthood. Funny, that, how two sisters can be so different. But I guess that's what war does to people.”
    Water flooded the gutters in the street, rolling out across the pavement.
    Above them, dark clouds rolled across the brooding sky. Harrison hailed a cab while sheltering beneath the eves of the derelict shopfront.
    Most of the cab drivers ignored them. Either they were too busy, or just indifferent. Robots could get like that. The emotion circuits worked a little too well, making them just as cranky as a human when their power cells began to run down. It seemed long hours and thankless work were a universal curse.
    After a few minutes a yellow hover car with the traditional black and white chequered strip running around its waist descended from above, its bright headlights flooding the sullen street. Harrison opened the door for Susan, allowing her to jump from the curb, through the curtain of rain streaming from a broken roof gutter and into the cab. Following hard behind her, Harrison slammed the door shut behind them.
    Water dripped from the two of them onto the slick leather seats. The butt of the sawn-off shotgun hanging from Harrison’s shoulder harness dug into his ribs as he slid across the seat. Whenever he stood, the cut-down shotgun beneath his trench coat was, for all intents, invisible, but once he sat down it became readily apparent that something nasty was hidden beneath the soft fabric. It didn’t escape the robotic driver peering at them through his rear-view plasma screen. A sheet of blast-proof Plexiglas slid up from the back of the driver’s seat.
    “ The Astor, driver.”
    “ Yes sir,” came the pre-programmed electronic reply as the craft lifted effortlessly back into the air.
    “ My records indicate there are three hotels named the Astor in Old New York and one in New New York. Could you be more specific about your destination?” asked the