Joe Craig - Jimmy Coates - Sabotage

Every second that passed he could feel his body being drained of energy. The world was swirling around him. He was reeling from side to side. Water. Food . His body demanded it.

At last he saw a row of shops. One of them was a place selling tacky gifts. The store window was full of T-shirts, caps, mugs and novelty pencils, all emblazoned with ‘Welcome to Port O’Connor’.

Jimmy dived in. The teenage girl behind the counter stood bolt upright in shock. Jimmy headed straight for a fridge stocked with drinks. On the bottom shelf were bottles of water. He tore open the fridge door and grabbed the largest one.

He knew he had no money on him, but there was nothing he could about it. It was stealing or dying. In one twist he unscrewed the lid of the bottle and took a swig. As the first gulp went down, he almost retched it straight back up again.

“Hey!” the girl shouted in a thick Texan accent. “This ain’t a free bar, y’know?”

Jimmy ignored her and forced himself to drink more. There wasn’t time to let his body recover slowly. Before the girl could draw breath to shout again, he grabbed another bottle of water and snatched a handful of chocolate bars from the rack, plus a packet of Mentos. Then he spun on his heels and burst out into the street. As he ran he poured water down his throat, not caring that it made his head dizzy and his stomach lurch.

Finally, he found an alley and collapsed in the shadow of a doorway, his chest heaving. His stomach retched violently and eventually he produced a spatter of vomit. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and slumped against the building.

He tore open a chocolate bar. He had to force down every bite as quickly as he could—he had almost burned more energy than he had left. The milky texture felt so soothing on his tongue.

In no time Jimmy’s heart rate was close to normal again. Even this small amount of water and food had done his body a huge amount of good. But it couldn’t help his state of mind.

Neptune’s Shadow . His finger scratched lines in the dust. He had to remember everything he had seen. He couldn’t let the details fade. He knew that his programming made him capable of memorising incredibly complex images after only a second, but he wasn’t in control of it. It was like having a camera built into his head, but not knowing how to turn it on.

Time after time Jimmy drew diagrams in the dirt. Were they accurate? He scrubbed them out and pounded his fist on the concrete. Happy Birthday , he thought sarcastically. With that, he pushed himself to his feet and started running again. He had to find a way out of town—a station, a boat, a bicycle even. Anything.

The one thing on his side was that there was hardly anybody about. He imagined that in the summer the town must be busy, but it was too early in the year for beach lovers.

With sirens still tearing at his ears, he wormed his way through the town. At last he glimpsed the sleek silver body of a bus. The last passengers were climbing aboard, then the engine spluttered into life in a cloud of dust.

Jimmy dived to the ground. He rolled over three times, so quickly that at any one moment he couldn’t tell whether he was facing the sky or the road. He caught the exhaust of the bus to stop himself abruptly. The fumes stung the roof of his mouth and the metal was growing hotter by the second, but Jimmy clung on. Eventually, he manoeuvred himself into a fairly stable position beneath the bus.

The noise and the heat drowned out the rest of the world. He was going to make it out of Port O’Connor. But Jimmy knew his struggle for survival was just beginning.

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