by Ryan Mark
William peeped out from the sheets. His mother’s green eyes shone in the dim morning light and her long brown hair framed her face, pale skin matching his own.
‘I can, I know it. If I can finish what he started we’ll find a way to stop the tremors.’
‘Will, you’ve only just turned fifteen! Your dad had been researching earthquakes since his teens, and even with all that knowledge he couldn’t find a way to stop the tremors.’
William climbed out of bed, careful to hide his knuckles. ‘I need to go to school.’ He walked to his wardrobe and pulled on a moth-bitten school jumper, licking his fingers to help him rub a stain from the maroon fabric. ‘I want to get there before the market opens.’
He picked up the journal and a rucksack and walked out of the room.
‘You haven’t had a proper sleep,’ his mother said, following him. ‘Take a day off and spend it with me. We could relax; listen to the music on my iPod. I got a recharge and a few days supply of electricity as wages, so we’ll have heat and light tonight. I might even be able to cook something warm.’
William stopped just short of the door. ‘Is that it? Didn’t they give you any food?’
‘No, but we’ll be OK, love. We’ve got enough to last us; more than some, anyway. I’ve got tinned broth in the cupboard. I can almost taste it.’ She joined him in the bathroom, her reflection trying hard to smile at him in the mirror. ‘They said there’s food coming in next week’s wages, so we’ll be fine. It’s been a bit mad at the hospital, you see. They haven’t had time to give me anything.’
‘Mad?’ He shoved the journal into his rucksack, scooped up his worn-down toothbrush and the almost-empty tube of toothpaste. It was running out, like so many things were these days. He sighed and squeezed out a slither. He hoped they’d be able to get more, as he really didn’t fancy being toothless at twenty.
‘Yeah, completely.’ She leaned on the doorframe.
He sighed, put the toothbrush into his mouth and let the chalky mint texture sting his gums. ‘Excuses all the time.’ He spat into the sink.
‘Will, love, we had fifty or so starving people from out of town at the hospital last night. I’m glad your dad decided to move us here. I wouldn’t want to be living in that cottage with things getting so desperate in the countryside.’
Judy walked the couple of steps from the door and as she rubbed his shoulder, her work badge caught his eye. The blue NHS logo was nearly rubbed out, and the worn surface made her name and title, Judy Bateman, Staff Nurse, Kentvale Hospital, almost unreadable. ‘At least let me make you breakfast before you go?’
‘It’s getting pretty bad here too, don’t you think? I mean, you haven’t been given food in over a week. Besides, I liked that cottage. I wasn’t cooped up like I am here. We were actually free in the countryside and not held back by brick walls.’ He swung his bag onto his back and headed down the dilapidated staircase.
His mother followed without comment.
William turned to her. ‘I’ll pass on the breakfast, save it for later. I’m not hungry at the moment, anyway.’
The tired eyes opened and shut. ‘It’ll get better love, I know. I trust Terrafall. It won’t let us starve.’ Judy grabbed his hand. ‘Terrafall has been good to us since the end of the war. It’s given us as much back as it can.’
‘It should’ve done more for Dad. It should’ve known he was at risk in that place!’ William pulled his hand back. Terrafall was the know-it-all disaster relief company that took charge when nearly everything was gone. His dad had worked for them; had been loyal to them. And what did he get in return? A grave. William scowled. And thanks to the tremors, the same was waiting for him and Mum too.
‘I’ve told you before, Terrafall wasn’t to know, love. It wants these tremors to stop as much as you do,’ Judy said softly.
‘Terrafall is useless! It might be giving us what we need now, but when things really do start to turn nasty I bet the people at the top will be keeping it all for themselves.’ William made for the door and pulled it open, not looking back at his mother. ‘You think the top man’s family goes without hot dinners?’
‘Right, fine, I’m not going to argue with you, because I know I won’t win.’ Judy followed him and grabbed his hand again. ‘Just make sure you’re home before dark, it’s not safe since…’
‘I know, Mum, I know,’ William replied, turning and looking at her. He regretted his attitude when he saw her green eyes were so full of concern. ‘I’ll try not to get pinched.’
‘I’m serious, Will. It’s so dangerous at night now.’ She pulled him in for a hug. Mum never stopped trying to hold and to hug him nowadays. He got it – he was all she had – but at times, it felt as though he was being smothered. ‘I love you so much.’
Hugging her back, he headed out the door, walking into the cobbled street and almost tripping on a crack in the pavement. The run-down terraced houses on either side of him funnelled the sun like a spotlight. He stepped into the warmth and began to walk down the thin road, waiting at the gate that protected his street from the dangers of the night until the guard opened it for him.
‘Want a copy of the Daily Scoop, lad?’ asked the guard, Victor, his blue uniform tatty and in need of a good wash. ‘Terrafall has a big announcement.’
William nodded. The man passed him a stained piece of paper. He looked down at the first bulletin and muttered the words as he read, ‘Peace Force cracks down on the night abductions. Scavengers to blame. Terrafall promises to keep the streets safe.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Whatever…’
‘Fresh off the press, that one. Terrafall says it thinks it knows where the Scavengers are coming from. Apparently there’s a load cooped up in a valley somewhere to the north, called Deep Rest Hollow or something, and a few of the breakaway clans further in the highlands are sheltering some of them as well. Said it’s going to launch an attack in the coming weeks.’
William screwed up the piece of paper, not bothering to read on to the big announcement.
‘Hey! Paper’s not cheap, you know!’
William shrugged and carried on walking through the gate and into the main trading area of Kentvale, once the busiest market town in the north of the country and now one of the few settlements remaining in England, and quite probably one of only a few remaining on Earth. As far as William knew, all settlements were under Terrafall’s control, apart from a few communities in the country that had tried to break away from its iron fist.
The area opened into a large plaza with an impressive war memorial built by Terrafall in the centre. A statue of a soldier stood proudly on its platform, cast out of metal so it stood a chance against the tremors. Bits had been repaired, but it still stood defiant, reminding people of the sacrifices that had been made during the Fossil War.
William walked past some boarded-up shopfronts, their original signs faded almost to the point of invisibility. His attention always fell on the war-themed posters that were plastered across some of the boards. One read:
Your Army Needs You!
Recruiting now in all town centres.
Join the fight, save your country,
prevent its end.
William shook his head. The end had kind of happened, he supposed, but not completely: he’d survived, and so had others. Although what was the point in surviving if only to live like this? As he pondered his situation he realised it hardly felt like living at all. Not proper living. So much had been taken from him – his father for one, and most of his family. All he had left were memories.
He shrugged off his thoughts as several people appeared in the square and began busily setting up stalls and filling them with countless piles of junk. The ground shook slightly, but that didn’t stop anyone. People buzzed around like newly hatched midges skittering over a pond, eager to make a living. A few looked over as he passed. Crap, he could do without anyone asking how he was yet again. Walking quickly, he kept his head down to avoid conversation.
He cringed at the
prospect of small talk; hated the softly spoken condolences. He continued on, weaving in and out of the raggedy bunch of men and woman dressed in frayed and patched-up clothing. Nobody wore bright colours any more; thanks to a lack of cleaning products everything was muted grey or brown. The absence of colour mirrored society: there was no joy. These people were just trying to survive; trying to live a little longer; trying to be as normal as they could be.
A charade, William decided, that’s what it was.
And the tremors, well, they made everything harder. He held onto a lamppost as, on cue, a more powerful one struck. No huge chunks fell from any of the nearby buildings, so it couldn’t have been too strong, but William knew a devastating force would be upon them soon enough. It’d been a long time since the last – the one that had taken his father from him – and there was always an imminent fear that another life-changing moment was just minutes away.
The tremors were random and no one except the people in charge could anticipate when they’d strike. But the goons at Terrafall kept the technology and the knowledge to themselves, instead of sharing and teaching others how to stand a chance. That’s what he hated most about those guys. His father had told him all about their selfishness – the journal mentioned something called a tremor-reader, a device that could anticipate earthquakes, something it kept from the majority of the population.
Terrafall didn’t care about any of them. Only the day before it had brutally beaten a family forced onto the streets because a tremor had destroyed their home. They’d been accused of being Scavengers, but how the hell could they have done anything about it, when the tremors were so unpredictable? And Terrafall could have so easily prevented that from happening if it had warned the family and moved them to safety.
His mind was quickly brought back to the pavement when two men, wearing tatty blue capes, strode onto it, heading straight for him. Stepping into an open doorway and out of sight, he watched as they began to scan the area. He could see they both had jagged crosses clipped to their collars, a symbol that represented Terrafall. He shuffled back, pushing himself further into the shadows, and listened.
‘Can’t believe we’re still having to do this. It’s been nearly two and a half years since we left those bunkers, and the radiation has never risen to dangerous levels,’ said the taller of the two. He pulled out a device that resembled a microphone and held it in the air, running his other hand through the willow-like mess that covered his jawline. ‘How’s it looking?’
William rolled his eyes. Yet another example of how Terrafall kept technology to itself.
‘I’ll just check,’ said the second, boasting an even bushier beard. He looked down at the metallic box attached to his partner’s belt, which the microphone trailed from. ‘No change.’
‘See, what’s the point? Barely any nukes were used during the war because of the T-bombs. Replaced them didn’t they,’ the first replied, letting his arm drop. ‘I mean, why use a nuke that could potentially backfire on you with radiation when you can use a weapon that just blasts your enemies to pieces, and on a larger scale too?’
‘I wouldn’t have liked to have been caught up in a T-blast though. From what I’ve heard it turned the ground beneath you into a mouth, the very rocks becoming knife-edged teeth. Then, as if that weren’t enough, the crust would blow upwards and smash down on anything that remained in one last explosion.’ The second held up his hand and brought it down on the other, the clap making William flinch. ‘And don’t you forget what those T-bombs have left us with. It might not be radiation, but it sure as hell isn’t anything less destructive!’
‘Yeah, but Terrafall will stop the tremors. I’m sure,’ said the first, patting his partner’s back. ‘That’s why I think us doing this is pointless. We ought to be helping with the tremors.’
‘Yeah, yeah, but who are we to argue?’ said the second, heading off with his partner. ‘Have you heard about the abduct…’ Their voices trailed off, gradually turning into inaudible murmurs.
William slunk out of his hiding place and walked on again, shaking his head. As if Terrafall would be able to stop the tremors now. Terrafall had lost his father, its best geologist, so it had no chance as far as he was concerned. But his mother wouldn’t agree, she was blinded by Terrafall’s promises, even though it had failed to prevent his father’s death.
Terrafall might’ve brought the survivors together and given them some small comforts, but his mother couldn’t see what the mysterious organisation was truly like, see that it was using the crappy stuff it gave away as a means to sustain power. He spat out the sour taste that had built up from thinking about the huge, faceless controller.
‘It’s gross to spit, Will,’ came a voice from behind.
‘Althea.’ He turned, his lips slowly curving into a smile.
Althea walked straight towards him, hair the colour of late autumn leaves, a halo of red framing her pretty face. ‘Why didn’t you meet me?’ she said, shoving his shoulder, her green eyes locked in a narrow glare.
‘Sorry, I’ve a lot on my mind, must’ve forgotten.’ He shrugged, meeting her intense gaze before blushing and quickly looking down.
Her expression softened. ‘You’ve been up all night again, haven’t you? Working on that tremor stuff, I bet.’ Althea sighed. ‘I know how hard it is. I’ve really struggled without either of my parents, but you can’t let it eat you up. Try and get on with life, otherwise you’ll find you have no life left.’
‘You call this living?’ he whispered, not looking at her. ‘You sound like my Mum. If you’re going to be like that, just leave me alone!’ He turned away, but something stopped him from walking off.
‘Will.’ She placed a hand on his back. ‘I’ve been your best friend forever. I’m not going to leave you. How could I leave the only friend I have who remembers what it used to be like?’
William didn’t say a word. When Terrafall brought all the survivors together after the war, he’d found out that most of his friends, his schoolmates had vanished.
‘I know it’s hard, and two months is such a short time to get over what happended to your dad. But look at the world we live in. You have to be strong,’ said Althea, gripping his shoulder. ‘Remember when we found that injured rabbit and your dad said there was nothing we could do? He said the best thing we could do was to put it to sleep? You were stronger than me back then, you agreed. I couldn’t. You need to find that strength again. For me, for your mum.’
Reluctant to argue, William nodded.
‘Why didn’t you wait for me, anyway? We’re not supposed to walk alone.’
William didn’t answer. He’d walked alone lots of times, when he needed to clear his head, or just forget, but he didn’t tell Althea or his mother that. Althea liked to take care of him, which suited him fine, most of the time.
‘You forgot me, didn’t you?’ she said, shaking her head and playfully punching him.
William scowled and rubbed his arm. ‘Crap, Alfie, that hurt.’
‘I don’t care. You need to pay more attention.’ She pulled her long, grey cardigan back onto her shoulders.
Not bothering to reply, he accepted her arm when it came to link with his and passed the rock he’d been kicking down the street to her as they walked on. She kicked it back when they turned down a quiet road that led away from the centre of town.
They walked in silence, skipping over the numerous fissures in the tarmac, keeping the rock in play between them. William kicked it a little too hard and it shot off into a gated street. He stopped and looked through the bars at the government buildings.
‘Archive Row. It’s been locked up,’ he said, shaking the padlock chained onto the double gates. ‘I suppose that means the library’s closed too, then.’
‘Yeah, I guess it does. I think someone in the market said it was locked up when the night abductions started getting really bad.’ Althea stepped up behind him. ‘A lot of the town’s council staff live down there, too. Trying to protect themselve
s, I guess.’
‘Why does Terrafall keep doing stuff like this? It can’t just seal off the library! There’s going to be nothing left for us to do.’ William kicked the gate. ‘I liked the library.’
‘Shhh, look! There’s something going on down there.’ Althea pointed ahead.
Beyond the entrance, in the wide road that stretched before them, were three parked armoured trucks, each with the jagged cross of Terrafall engraved into their rusted surfaces. A group of Terrafall Peace Enforcers, wearing the official blue uniform with capes and black helmets, were carrying folders towards the large building at the end. William wondered, not for the first time, how Terrafall managed to source those uniforms, when the rest of the population couldn’t find a spare tyre or toothpaste.
‘They look a bit shifty,’ whispered William.
‘When have the Peace Force not looked shifty?’ Althea turned away, auburn hair whipping her cheeks. ‘As far as I’m concerned, they’re a bunch of idiots. They didn’t help my parents when they needed support at the farm. It should’ve been protected. They were growing food for this town, for goodness’ sake!’
William grabbed her hand, sensing the anger building in her face. He wouldn’t put it past her to go and tell them off. He could see her now, scaling the fence, fists at the ready.
‘Let’s get out of here.’
‘Makes you miss the days when the police were in charge, doesn’t it?’ said Althea, squeezing his hand.
William nodded. The Peace Force was the organisation that replaced the police when Terrafall rebuilt society after the war. Its Peace Enforcers ruled the streets. The Enforcers’ job was to keep the streets clean and safe, and boy did they do that. If you were found out after the night curfew you risked being thrown into the Prison Pit, or worse. And all because of the Scavengers: desperate souls who came out at night to forage for food and other commodities.
Making Althea step away, William gulped. It was impossible not to feel on edge whenever the Enforcers were close.