Long Shadow

Mac Gabhann Donnchadh

Description

The pandemic is over. Humanity is saved. The misery is over. Or is it?From the wreckage of the old world, a new order has arisen. On the banks of the Borava River, a city stands divided between two oppressive civilisations engaged in an endless struggle with one another. Under the callous rule of their power-hungry overlords, the people long for liberation yet can find no cause for hope or redemption.Amidst the contradictions and hypocrisies of this decaying world however, a string of unexplained murders ignites a spark of renewed enthusiasm as an investigation unfolds in a desperate search for answers to the murderous mystery.It is an endeavour which will lead straight to the grim and uncomfortable truth lying at the very heart of this post-pandemic civilisation, a truth which is better left unknown...

Sujets

• Thriller

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
• Date de parution: 06 janvier 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781398486898
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

T he L ong S hadow
Donnchadh Mac Gabhann
Austin Macauley Publishers
2023-01-06
The Long Shadow About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Acknowledgement Chapter I: The Protector Part I: Tolerance Part II: Deference Part III: Malevolence Part IV: Perseverance Part V: Patience Part VI: (In)Justice Chapter II: The Dissenter Part I: Defiance Part II: Dissidence Part III: Resistance Part IV: Resilience Part V: Endurance Part VI: Eminence Part VII: (Un)Reliance Chapter III: The Predator Part I: Prejudice Part II: Penance Part III: Silence Part IV: Negligence Part V: Resonance Part VI: Deliverance Part VII: Transparence Part VIII: Vengeance Part IX: Reminiscence Part X: Virulence Part XI: Decadence Part XII: Violence Part XIII: Convergence Part XIV: Governance Part XV: (Un)Prescience
About the Author
Donnchadh Mac Gabhann was raised in a rural part of the northern borderlands of Ireland. He received a Gaelic-speaking education and had an early interest in language, reading, and writing. During his formative years, he was fascinated by the differing patterns of behaviour and belief he observed in people according to their circumstances and dispositions. This interest led him to study history and political science at Trinity College Dublin and has subsequently led to his current education at Uppsala University where he is specialising in Holocaust and Genocide Studies to obtain a greater insight into the nature of humanity.
Dedication
For all those who inspired me to gaze long and deep into the darkest and most forbidden corners of the human mind.
Copyright Information ©
Donnchadh Mac Gabhann 2023
The right of Donnchadh Mac Gabhann to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781398486881 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781398486898 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published 2023
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd ®
1 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5AA
Acknowledgement
I would like to express my appreciation first to my father, Felim, for his patient reading and critiquing of my work for many a year; to my mother, Dara, for her encouragement and support for my creative writings; and to my sister Aoibhin for her literary insights and her willingness to assess my writings with fresh eyes. I owe an intellectual debt to my good companion and contemporary, Michael Sharry, whose academic intuition and knowledge inspired and compelled me to expand and diversify my own critical understandings of socio-political phenomena. Last but not least, I would be remiss not to acknowledge the counsel and labours of my friend, Pranav Darshan, without whom I would never have been prompted to write or publish this work.
Chapter I: The Protector

Part I: Tolerance
Vaccination is Liberation!
Pandemic Slogan of Doctor Slovenko
Grey rain gusted down on the cracked city. The cobbled streets and baroque buildings wept themselves into the dark slime of wet stone. On the quays, the fluids of the rain sat stagnant and lost on cold tarmac. The smooth flowing face of the Borava River sizzled into a pockmarked sheet of exploding raindrops.
February , thought Vaclav grimly as he sat in his car waiting for the traffic lights to turn. The mere sight of the rain chilled his bones, reminded him of the dark and the snow that had come and gone. The dawn of spring was almost nigh he knew. Yet this miserable shower told him the ghost of winter lingered still, unwilling to let go of the city.
Across the junction, he spied a small group of teenagers scurrying for cover from the downpour. With coats and bags draped over their heads, they huddled together at the bus stop under the Millennium Bridge. Beneath the concrete ruin of this broken megastructure, the adolescents giggled and sniggered at their own misfortune, their spirits undampened by the ill weather. Dressed in their bright and colourful shorts and t-shirts, they were children of summer, born before their time. Out of the corner of his eye though, Vaclav glimpsed the familiar oncoming trouble for these young things.
They came as a pair. Both were clad in the long double-breasted plastic coats and knee-high boots which distinguished their creed. A latex balaclava fitted with binocular goggles tightly embraced their heads so that not a single human feature was visible to the world. From their boots to their masks, every piece of them was an ice-white colour so they appeared like sculptures shorn from a glacier. They marched in robotic unison, their arms tucked behind their backs, their chests thrust out with impunity, the heels of their boots clapping off the wet cobblestones.
As they approached their quarry, they unfurled their arms and unsheathed their white rubber truncheons. With confident authority, they shoved their instruments of coercion between the teenagers, and with a simple flick of the hand, forced them apart till the correct distance was restored.
“Young fools,” lamented Vaclav. If they had only left enough space between them, they might have evaded the watching eyes of the White Coats. Their conduct simply would not do. It was out of the question. Too much contact and too little distance. It was impolite, rude, reckless, damnable. One always had to leave room for the virus. It only needed one lucky shot. One moment of deadly fortune to transmit from one human to another and it would return into existence once more.
At least, that’s what they said.
It was what they had been saying for years beyond count. Vaclav could even remember when such words were given as mere tokens of advice and recommendation. But those friendly days of care and caution were long since gone. In the present upside-down world, these words were equated to absolute truth, proclaimed not so much as pieces of cautionary advice, but as mandatory sermons demanding servile obedience.
With order restored and catastrophe averted, the two White Coats couched their truncheons under their arms and resumed their vigilant patrol, their heads glancing from side to side on the lookout for yet more lapses of attention. The teenagers glanced at each other with awkward guilt and embarrassment written on their faces and then, without a word, parted ways.
“Nothing better to do than give people grief,” remarked Vaclav to himself as he watched the White Coats stride away into the middle distance. The lights went green and he put his foot down on the accelerator. “Poor miserable fuckers,” he blasphemed under his breath as he sped under the Millennium Bridge and raced up the quays. At the next junction, he turned right and drove up the one-way route to Ward Five, leaving the River behind him. As he came about the bend of the sloping road, he was faced with the familiar view of five Health Marshals standing at attention next to a road barrier. Above their heads, an electronic sign flashed the same old discriminating words: “V5 ACCESS ONLY.”
Vaclav was only a V4. But he had his papers. He had his reasons. He was here on so-called ‘essential’ duties. Though Vaclav himself hardly recognised this crusty old committee meeting as ‘essential’, his additional role as liaison officer for the Commission came with its benefits, benefits which allowed him to cross Quarantine Lines, benefits which allowed his wife and daughter to enjoy the comfortable lifestyle they had eased themselves into.
A Health Marshal held up a scanner to Vaclav’s vehicle as he approached. The Marshal showed the reading to a security guard. A puzzled frown came upon the guard’s brow.
“Fuck,” swore Vaclav. The guard was new and didn’t know the arrangement. He lowered his window and felt his mind clenching with discomfort as the prospect of the looming conversation.
“Read the sign,” instructed the guard, gesturing upwards to the flashing electronic warning. “You’re only a V4. If you want to pass through to this ward, you’ll need to pay extra premium for a higher vaccine dose.”
“I don’t want your stronger vaccine dose,” bluntly rejected Vaclav. “I’m here to—”
“It’s pay or leave, sir,” slammed the guard before Vaclav could finish.
“I’m Detective Kovac. I’m the police liaison officer for the Commission. I have Class Six clearance to enter Ward Five.” Vaclav handed his badge and papers to the guard. The security man scrutinised the documents with the judging eye of an archivist. “I’m here on essential duties. You can call my boss. He’ll tell you everything.” The guard remained unconvinced and continued to scan every dot of ink on the paper before him.
“Andor! Andor you fool! Let him through!” came the voice of another guard who came hobbling out from the adjacent facility door trying to close the zipper of his trousers in a hurry. “He has clearance! I told you about him!” Andor at once became quite flustered and sheepishly handed Vaclav’s documents back to him.
“Evening Maciej,” begrudgingly greeted Vaclav to the older security guard.
“Sorry Vaclav, new meat on the block as you can see,” apologised Maciej. “Won’t happen again! You have a good day, detective!” The police detective simply smirked in feigned humour and continued into Ward Five.
“Fucking imbeciles,” muttered Vaclav under h