11It was amazing just how much energy fear could give you. It could shut you down so you gave up and curled up in a ball and let the terror take you. Or you could seize it, slap reins on it and ride it into the maelstrom. Kate’s skin tingled as if her nerves had risen to the surface and her senses were hyperacute. Objects—fence-boards, roofs, chimneys etched against the sky, the ripple of reflected light upon dark water—all seemed sharply defined as if outlined by a pale yet luminous light. She was near jogging, but nowhere near tired. They had lost one in the fray. Bev Bennet, of Queen Jane’s brood. And Nell Quigley had succumbed. They’d left her in a warehouse doorway, telling Annie Dawes, her Dove Row mate, they’d be back for her, though Kate had a creeping suspicion she wouldn’t be there when they returned.She heard the flood before she saw it. A tumultuous rumble like logs rolling down a flight of stairs or a lashing wind driving torrential rain. Her gaze swept up the c

Last Updated : 2022-07-20

12The destructor lay between a chemical plant and a barge works. The cluster of ornate brick buildings, stabling, and cart yard covered an acre. A one-hundred-eighty-foot chimney towered over the complex. Like the sawmill, the destructor was silent tonight, its furnaces cold, the great crushing cylinders that pulverized the parish waste before incinerating it over the flames still. Patsy led them up an inclined roadway to the tipping platform in the main building’s second floor where, during normal operation, cart after cart of house, trade, and street refuse is tipped into the feeders. In the crusher, refuse is ground between massive rotating cylinders until it is of a uniform consistency, after which it is burned over a 2,000-degree fire. Nothing goes to waste. The clinkers are crushed to suitable size for roadway and footpath foundation or ground even finer in the mortar mill for mortar and cement. The burning process produces steam which, in turn, powers generators to supp

Last Updated : 2022-07-20

13The rain lasted three whole days and nights. Bazalgette’s magnificent sewage system, unable to contain its fetid cargo, released tons of feces, dead cats and dogs, river rats and floaters into the Thames. Fourteen people drowned and hundreds in the low-lying districts of South London saw the mud reach the six-foot mark in their parlors. Beds were piled on tables, clothes and mattresses rendered filthy and unusable. In one home a chair was driven through a ceiling and hung suspended after the water receded. Sunday joints washed out of the ovens and the brick wall of a local convent was swept away. Outhouses, sheds and chicken coops sailed down the streets. The hospitals filled with patients suffering from bronchitis. And inhabitants were days at removing the oozy banks that shored against their homes. By a lucky coincidence, the moon was at quarter and the outgoing tide greater than the incoming and the flood currents so fierce most of the floaters that survived burning were

Last Updated : 2022-07-20

All Chapters of Floaters: Chapter 11 - Chapter 13

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