The Society Series Box Set 2

by Mason Sabre

  “Sleep well,” she whispered. “May angels watch over you.” It was so hard for Diana not to touch Nathan and let him know it would be okay … that he would be okay, because they were just words and she knew deep in her soul that the Nathan who'd woken up that morning, was not the same Nathan who'd go to sleep tonight.

  She stayed with him as he sat by and watched the flames take away the shell that had once been his child. Others drifted off because he had told them to, but Diana had nowhere else to be, and Nathan had no one to sit with him. His wife had already died, and now his son. This was it for him.

  "Do you want me to stay?" James asked as he crouched down beside her, eyes so full of shock and pain … pain for the man close to them.

  “No. I’ve got this.” She wanted to say life goes on, and she might have done that if Nathan wasn’t so close, but it would be cold, callous. But life went on, and they had a farm to run. They had chickens that needed feeding, and new seeds needing to be sowed. “I’ll be in after.”

  James kissed her hair before giving her a tight squeeze, and then as he was leaving, he patted Nathan on the back in silent support for what the man was going through.

  It took an hour for Max's body to burn to ash. The smell of it was in Diana's hair, on her clothes. She was relieved when the fire went down to just embers, so she could go home and wash the stench off, but she was sure it would stay with her a while. There was nothing as awful as the smell from the baker’s slab … that acrid, cooking flesh smell wound up with death and pain and grief. Nathan got to his feet, took one last look at the slab and left without a word to anyone.

  Diana watched him go, sending with him her good thoughts and hopes he would sleep tonight, even for a little while, just to ease what was weighing on him.

  James was in the lounge when she went back into their house. She found him sitting at their small computer in front of the window. It wasn’t much, but it worked, most of the time.

  “It feels so wrong to just come back home and go back to my life,” she said, keeping herself at the doorway. “Like I should do something else.”

  “Because death makes us all think. It reminds us we can go at any time.”

  “He was just so young. Don’t the Humans have any heart?” She shook her head, trying to shake off the unease that rode her back. “He was just a child. When will it stop?”

  James swivelled in his seat, and without a word about it, Diana went to him and stood between the vee his legs created. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his head against her stomach. She bent to him and leant into his head.

  “We should leave,” James said after a while.

  “What?” Diana let go. “Leave?”

  He pressed his lips into a thin line.

  “James?”

  “It won’t stop. You asked before, when will it stop, but it won’t. That’s the answer. We sit here and do nothing, it will never stop. Only get worse.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “We need to do something.”

  His words were a drumbeat in her head, a rising panic in her throat. She knew the look on his face. “We can’t fight them. We’re—”

  “Someone did. Someone fought and won. He took down Norton.”

  “And he made everything worse. Because of that, Max is dead.” It was why they had the taggers, and why the Humans had upped the game in their new regime of controlling Others.

  James nodded. “I know, but that was just one thing. Everything gets worse before it gets better. What if …”

  “What if?”

  “Look at this.” He pushed her back, so he could turn his chair back and face the computer. Two clicks later and he had a page loaded up with a video on it. There was a pause as the circle spun before the thing came into life, and Diana braced herself for the horror she was about to see. Almost tempted to ask James to stop.

  When this had all started, the Prisoner, his name because that was how he addressed the camera, had shown clips of the horrors happening in one of Norton’s facilities. Children, babies … all of them Other and all broken by the science of man.

  For years, the televisions and radios had broadcast messages from the Humans, especially Norton, spilling out their hatred and lies—their propaganda messages. When this man had taken down the facility, he had taken down their broadcast.

  “This is Prisoner 932416,” he began. “I come to you today, not as a man, or an Other, or as a criminal convict, but as a prisoner of race. A prisoner to the Humans because I am not the same. All of you … all who are Other, you are not worthy. Not in their eyes. Not in the eyes of those who seek to control and eradicate.”

  “We will no longer bow to their Draconian ways. We will no longer hide in the shadows and duck behind fear. We deserve more. Our children deserve more.”

  The video moved away from the silhouette of a man. Prisoner never showed his face, never gave his name. The camera panned to two mounds in the earth, and Diana wanted to look away, but she didn’t.

  “Two children passed away in the name of science this week. Two children.” He paused. “Even one death is too much. I ask you, not as a leader, not as a fighter or a soldier, but as a father, a husband … as someone who cannot stand to see another life taken just because the Humans say it is so.”

  “Walk with me. I do not call for slaughter. I do not ask for more death.” The shadow shook his head. “But I will stand up to any Human or Other on their side, from this day.” He leant into the camera, face so close it was almost possible to make him out. “The Human Order is over.”

  A paw print in the top right of the screen spun. The words, The Forgotten, floated around it. There were other videos by the Prisoner too. Videos they had all seen before. Once was enough for Diana. She couldn't do anything to help them. No one could now, but those kids … children being tortured, broken faces, half-starved things crying in agony. Just seeing the link to them brought the images so vividly to her mind she wished she could close her eyes and make it all go away.

  James clicked on the paw print. “This takes us to one of the Prisoner’s contacts. I sent a message before, and he’s replied. We can meet in four days.”

  “Four days? I …” No. She knew what he was asking, but no. No … she couldn’t. They couldn’t.

  “I want us to go. We always said we’d stay here as long as we could, but the Humans are getting closer. It won’t be long before they come in and demand everyone gets tagged.”

  “We can leave then. We can—”

  He caught her hand and turned it over. She had a code tattooed into her wrist. It was faded now, but it was there. “So, they can scan this and find out who you are? So they can take you back to that place? I can't lose you. They'll come here, and there won't be any warning. We'll not have time to get away."

  “If we get caught.” She shook her head and pulled back from him. “God, James. I ... It’s too risky. “

  “Look what they did to Max, to Michelle and Stacey. We could leave tonight when everyone else is sleeping. Pack up the car, take some supplies. I don’t know what the Prisoner wants as an entry, but we could take what we have. We have food and chickens, and he has people who need feeding. We could pack it all up, and then hide somewhere and set off in the morning, as soon as it is light.”

  “You want to leave here? Leave everyone here.”

  He stood. “Yes. That might sound harsh, but yes.” He took her hand. “You are my only priority. Once the Humans come in here, we’re screwed. If we can get to the Prisoner ...”

  “But he is a prisoner, James. He says it himself. He calls himself that.”

  He grabbed for her wrist again, but this time, instead of showing her the tattoo they’d given to her, he shoved up her sleeve to expose the branding. “So are you. You are just like he said, were … a prisoner of race. What if his crime was like yours? A crime just because he is whatever he is. Like you.” A pause. “He’s giving us all a chance, Diana. We should take it.”

 
Every part of her trembled with James’ words, with the truth. Because the Humans would come, just like he said. “Four days?”

  “Yes. It’s four days to get there. We pack enough. Hide for the night and set off at first light. You, me, and Finn. We go. The contact says we’ve to be at Gram Hill in four days.”

  “We can make it?”

  They could. He slid his arms around her, pulled her into the embrace she loved so much. Her face against his firm chest. Just the smell of him, fresh air and sunshine. "Okay," she said against him. "We do this."

  Chapter 3

  A few years ago, Diana would have found the night silence a comforting blanket to wrap around her, James and Finn. She’d have thought of it like a sleeping cocoon keeping them safe from everything in the outside world, but as she stood near to James as he loaded their things into the back of the car, she couldn’t help but feel the sorrow in the air. Death. Loss. Grief. All of it was a black pollution the town breathed in and exhaled every day.

  The scent of Max’s burnt body still hung in the air as a reminder of what they were doing and why they were doing it. Even though Max’s body had burnt down to ashes and had been swept away, the memory of it remained, and there was no amount of cleaning that could take it away.

  “We’ve blankets, some towels, a bag of clothes … is there anything else that I am forgetting?”

  “No. I don’t think so.” She told herself to pretend this was a trip they were taking, and they could come back to the town at any point, which they could. No one was forcing them out. If she so wished, she could have asked James to unpack everything and put it back and he would have done it, but she knew without a doubt that what he’d said to her wasn’t just words of fear. No. The Humans would come, and she would be caught.

  As if sensing her uncertainty, James offered Diana a weak smile. “We’re doing the right thing.” He put his arms around her and pulled her into the hug she didn’t realise she needed. His body pressed against hers that scent that was so him.

  “This place has been our home. I thought we’d be here for years more. Aren’t you sad to leave it?”

  He took her hand in his and held it between their bodies. “Home is right here,” he said. “Me and you, and Finn. That is home. It’s not a place. You’re my home.”

  He leant against her, pressing his forehead to hers. She nodded at his words, then smiled. “Such a smooth talker.”

  “That’s why you love me.” He kissed her before letting go and heading back into the house for food. They were taking with them boxes and bags of produce they had stored and saved for the winter. They didn’t take it all. They would not leave everyone with nothing, and James had written them notes on caring for the things he had planted that afternoon. But they were taking enough. Sure, the Prisoner wasn’t going to just let people in. He’d want payment, and money wasn’t so much a currency in Exile; goods were. James also caged two chickens they had in a pen at the back for eggs. Diana filled as many bottles as she could find with water. If they ran out of anything, she didn’t want it to be that.

  “Ready?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded and then inhaled. “Ready.”

  They also had a crossbow with them. It was small, and handy, and might not take anything big down, but it was all they had. James had used a crossbow in his days in the military. It had been his weapon of choice and he could wield it with skill and precision. Taking someone down as fast as the next person. It was silent. The arrows buried themselves into the target nice and clean, and they could be reused.

  Most Others were their own weapons, but with Diana’s busted wings, and James being a necromancer, it didn’t give them much to arm themselves with. Humans didn’t allow Others to carry weapons.

  Diana’s wings formed a tattoo across her back. Most people mistook them for just that—intricate artwork that must have taken hours. Most angels could tuck them in at the back and hide them, but she kept them away permanently. What was the point in having something that was useless? Sure, she could span her wings out, even wrap them around to protect herself from an oncoming hit, but aside from that, there was no use to them. They’d been clipped when she was born. Her father's punishment for taking a Human lover. Clipped wings made angels mortal, and, as she often said, useless.

  “We’re doing this, aren’t we?”

  James pulled the boot down and came around to Diana, so he could see her. “Yes, we are.”

  The plan was to roll the car out of town and then park it up somewhere in the back of one lane close by. They would wait until first light came and then head on their way. Diana took one last look at the place they had called home, at the town—ghost town now. So quiet, so haunting now. They said goodbye to no one. Goodbyes were hard, they were even harder when trying to explain chasing something that was a rumour.

  The Prisoner, he wasn’t just a man who had taken charge of something. No, he had been prophesied too. Many of the stories were nothing now. Not talked about, except for perhaps with the witches. They believed in that stuff. It was told a man would come. He would be the saviour of it all—a man and two cats, or something like that. Or maybe he was a cat. Diana wasn’t sure how much of the real story she knew, but Blight warned of the scales tipping the other way and Humans would be mad. There would be war, and death and slaughter, but out of it all, there would be evolution.

  They got the car so far and hid. Finn slept on the back seat. The bone they had given him trapt under his paw, like they may want to take a bite of it when he wasn’t looking. He was content, and Diana couldn’t ask for more than that.

  She turned in her seat, closed her eyes for a moment and lay one hand across the gap and holding James, the other, idling through Finn’s fur. A moment later, the sound of the car engine starting, made her jump.

  “What … James …”

  “Sun’s up, sleepyhead.”

  She stifled a yawn and then gave up and let it out. “I fell asleep?”

  “Yep. Between you and Finn, sounded like a damn earthquake in here.”

  She tapped his arm. “I don’t even remember going off.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter now. Time for us to do this. You ready?”

  Ready … maybe. “Yeah. I think so.” She threw him a smile and tried to feel it all the way down. It was right. She was sure of that, but it was just … final.

  It was a little after five in the morning, and although the sun had started its ascent, the sky was still a little dark. But it was light enough. The chances of the sweepers being out were slim. When they caught people, it was most often in the first couple of hours just after sundown. Rarely would they be out now. Probably tucked into their own beds safe knowing they had turned over Others to the powers that be, for punishment.

  “You know where we are going?” she asked. “The contact gave you the directions?”

  “Gram Hill,” James said, “I know where it is.” He tapped a finger to his temple. “One thing they made us do in training was memorise every part of Exile. The best map to have is in here where no one can find it. Don’t worry. I know where we’re going and how to get there.”

  She trusted him. She trusted him with every living, breathing part of herself, and knew he would get her there. Or at least try to. It wasn’t him she was worried about, but rather all the things that could crop up in the four days of their journey.

  James released the handbrake, and the car rolled down the incline where they had parked, like a dirty secret sneaking out before anyone could spot them. The tyres crunched against the gravel, and tiny stones popped back down with minimal noise as he let the car crawl out of their hiding place and onto the main road.

  As their journey began, they sat in silence, or at least Diana did, and James gave her that space to think. He was good like that, knew how to read her better than she could read herself. When they got onto one of the bigger roads—a road that ran between towns, he placed his hand on her thigh and settled back into the drive ahead. Diana rested her hand on
top of his.

  “Do you think we did wrong by not telling people we were leaving?” she asked. “Should we have told them?”

  “Maybe. But it’s hard to know who is on which side.” Not that he didn’t trust the people in the town. No. It was that they had both seen enough betrayal to know not everyone who said they were a friend, was. “Everyone has the same chance as us to leave. They’ve all seen the broadcasts.”

  He was right, but it didn’t stop the nips of guilt that nibbled along her skin. It was Jeff and Jane at the front of her thoughts, but she knew James’ answer to that too. They weren’t their responsibility, and maybe that would be harsh, but it would be the truth too. They couldn’t put themselves in harm’s way because of others.

  The day and their drive went swiftly. They covered a lot of miles and passed a good few cars. Every time another car came along the opposite side, Diana tensed. She couldn’t help it. She’d been in hiding so long, it was part of her functioning. “There’s no sweepers,” James had reassured her every time she grabbed for his hand, or clutched the handle on the door, sure in a moment they would be pulled over and searched. No. Sweepers didn’t tend to come out in the day, neither did the money hunters, but that knowledge did little to chase away her fear. She’d not relax until they met with this contact James had.

  James slowed when the first of a few chimneys came into view. It wasn’t the tallest Exile had to boast about, but it wasn’t so small either. The way the island was constructed, although perhaps island was the wrong word, it was too big for that, too wide and too monstrous. In different parts there were chimneys, much the same as the one coming into view as they drove. This one was listed as a recycling plant, but every Other knew what it was. It wasn’t household waste being burnt in there.

  The surrounding sky was scorched dark, like the chimney had been pouring out for days. Maybe it had.