by Ryan Mark
‘Already done,’ replied Ichabod. ‘We’ll set off as soon as you’re finished.’
William took up the map that lay on some bedding and looked for the monastery. A few more towns, wooded patches and fields then they’d be there, at the Graven Burials. He drank up the rest of the sauce in the tin and quickly packed his things.
‘Let’s go,’ he said, helping Ori stand and Althea with her bag.
They headed for the road, and William saw that Branimir’s car was still wedged in the roadside ditch.
‘We’ll be leaving it here, under the guard of Marcus and Ernest,’ Ichabod said, before William could ask. ‘It pains me that we have to leave these boys behind, but we need this vehicle. Only the tyres are damaged, and working vehicles are so rare nowadays.’
Branimir appeared and jumped on board the bus. ‘Come on, you lot. Stop moping. Marcus and Ernest will guard the car until they’re joined by the second wave of Havenites, and then they’ll all join us.’ He looked back down at the two guards. ‘Send word to the men in Haven and tell them of our plight. They must bring spare tyres and a large trailer. You can attach that to the car and use it to catch up.’
Ernest bowed, and Marcus said, ‘Well, I suppose we should say “Godspeed”, or some clichéd phrase like it before you leave.’ He frowned. ‘I think I’ll just say bye though.’
William waved at the two guards. He’d grown fond of them, but Branimir was right; they couldn’t leave the car, especially not unguarded. If you had one, you had to defend it with your life.
‘And don’t get any ideas Alfie, I’m staying with you and Will, I’m not staying with them,’ said Ori, climbing onto the bus. ‘I’ll just run off if you make me.’
‘To be honest, I’d rather have you with me now, I think,’ she said, following him. ‘And anyway, they aren’t going back to the Hollow, so you’d end up back with me one way or another.’
William took one last glimpse over his shoulder before he boarded the bus, meeting Merle’s gaze again as the man climbed into the caravan behind. He shivered, wrapped his arms around his chest and sat next to Althea.
‘You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,’ she said.
‘It’s nothing, just that Merle guy’s creeping me out.’
‘I wouldn’t worry about him; he’s just hung up about not getting his own way. If you knew people were being killed and you could stop it, why wouldn’t you?’
William looked around. The bus was fuller than before, with Branimir dominating the seat across from him.
Ori turned around and knelt on his seat, looking back at Althea and William. ‘How long’s it going to take to get there?’
Althea sighed. ‘Make the most of this bit. I think you’ll regret asking that when we’re there.’
Ori turned around and sank back into his seat. ‘I won’t. I can’t wait to get my revenge on whoever took our parents.’
Althea shook her head and sighed again.
‘They’re not just going to let us waltz in, are they?’ said William, eyes dropping to the floor. There was a hole and he could just about see the tyres spinning on the loose tarmac.
‘It definitely won’t be an in and out job,’ replied Althea. ‘It’s probably going to be a hell of a lot harder than breaking into the power plant.’
‘I don’t care, I just want her back.’
Althea leaned on William’s shoulder. ‘I know, me too.’
As the bus trundled on, they saw crevasses and deep gorges stretched across the road in front of them. ‘The tremors are going to be stronger now.’ William stared into a chasm that plummeted steeply from the side of the road. ‘We’re right on the edge…’
They drove on, twisting down through the cooked landscapes. William looked away from the window, deciding to move to the front of the bus and sit with Ichabod. The view was clearer and he could see exactly what was coming at them.
‘Will we get there in one piece?’ he asked.
Ichabod’s voice was calm, ‘It’s not so bad, I’ve driven on worse roads. However, we’ll be in trouble if bandits appear.’
William didn’t want to think about bandits, so he stared out of the window at a passing house, sitting isolated in a field. It was similar to the one he was born in.
Memories came flooding back: mornings playing in the meadow while his mother baked cakes; afternoons sailing toy boats with his father in the little stream at the bottom of their garden. Those times were so far away now, locked in memory. Humanity had lost so much, and little thoughts like these were reminders of just how much had gone.
As the house vanished from view, William saw something else, something shiny, twinkling in the dull light ahead. It looked like a huge, discarded jewel lying in the distance. The object stretched right across the tarmac, stabbing into the dry fields on either side, completely blocking their path.
William frowned and tried to focus. Was it a sliver of metal blown off a building, or a long, shattered piece of glass? As the bus drew nearer, the object became jagged, its shine poking upwards. He blinked hard, mouth drying up. It was a mass of lethal metallic spikes, spreading far into the road.
‘You’ve got to pull off, quick!’ he screamed, stabbing the glass in front of Ichabod’s face.
‘Oh God,’ breathed Ichabod, knuckles turning white. ‘Everyone hold on! It’s going to get rough!’
William almost fell off his seat as the bus swerved off the road, swinging through an old wall and into the field beyond it. William looked back to the caravan.
‘Oh God!’
The driver hadn’t had time to react and the caravan rolled across the carpet of metal spikes, tipping onto its side. The bus came skidding to a standstill. William jumped off – he had to see if anyone was injured or even…
He exhaled in relief when a few ragged men crawled from the caravan, trying to help each other out of the twisted metal. As he contemplated running over to help, he saw a group of people rushing across the field towards them, his feeling of relief swiftly replaced by distraught gasps. Their unmistakable clothing left him in no doubt they were all in serious trouble. He silently pleaded with anyone or anything to help them get away from the cannibals.
It had been a trap and they’d fallen straight into it; a trap set by bandits.
Ichabod jumped down next to him.
‘W–what should we do?’ stammered William.
‘Drive!’ boomed Branimir from the bus. ‘Get him back inside, Ichabod.’
‘We can’t just leave them!’ William screamed.
Deep down he supposed he knew they had little choice, but the horror of leaving the others to their deaths was incomprehensible.
‘We have to save ourselves now,’ replied Branimir briskly. ‘And deal with Terrafall. We’ve come too far and risked too much. Back on the bus. NOW!’
William looked back. The bandits had reached the caravan and were smashing the windows. They began dragging those who’d crawled out away, and those inside screamed in terror. There were too many bandits to consider a rescue attempt.
Ichabod dragged William back on the bus, leaving him in the aisle as he jumped into the driver’s seat. He quickly started the engine and the bus took off, a flurry of dried mud shooting from its wheels. William continued to stare through the door, watching in horror as the bandits began to pull people from the caravan.
Althea had jumped next to Ori and was grabbing him tightly, shading his eyes. ‘Don’t look,’ she whispered, pressing her hand to his face. ‘Just don’t look.’
They sped on, knocking through dry stone walls and empty fields. William managed to pull himself into a seat, but his skin became prickly and all the heat in his body sank into his tummy. He felt sick, really sick. He fell out of the seat and the meagre contents of his stomach gushed into the aisle. He breathed in, sobbing.
‘Find somewhere to stop. We need to re-group,’ said Branimir to Ichabod, as Igraine rushed to help William.
‘Take a deep breath, dear. Deep breath, that�
��s it.’
‘H–how can we carry on in a world like this?’
‘I warned you about the dangers son, I did warn you.’ Branimir’s voice had less power to it now. William suspected he’d had the same thoughts himself.
‘We’ve lost the others, Merle, my God, I–I can’t believe it,’ said the guard called Blake, from the seat behind Althea. ‘This has to be a nightmare. It can’t be happening. Should we have done this?’
‘Get a hold of yourself, man.’ Branimir stood and tapped Ichabod’s shoulder and pointed to a huddle of grey trees. ‘If we can get to Stone Cross there’s still a chance. We still have the others, remember. More men means more power. Terrafall needs to stop.’
‘If they don’t get caught by bandits,’ Althea said matter-of-factly.
William knew Branimir was right. ‘We’ve come too far now,’ he said, wiping his mouth and staggering to his feet. ‘More people will be killed if Terrafall isn’t stopped.’ He stumbled towards the door and fell off the bus, breathing in the foul air. ‘We can’t turn back. It’s too late.’
Sitting down, William clawed the ground as his stomach did somersaults, grass crumbling at the slightest touch. He began to doubt himself. Could they call themselves human when they’d just left those men to die? Had they just inadvertently sacrificed them to get away? The exact thing they were trying to stop Terrafall from doing? Was it right? He couldn’t think straight; it hurt too much.
Could they have done anything? He hit his fist into the ash.
No, it wasn’t their fault. They couldn’t have helped without dying themselves.
Terrafall was responsible. It could have so easily prevented those people from turning into bandits by reaching out and sharing food, but instead the dictatorial regime ignored those struggling the most. Its corrupt and evil ways needed to end.
Terrafall. He spat at the thought. Glancing up, he found the sight of the heavy sky didn’t make him feel any better. Despite this, William pushed himself to his knees. ‘I think I’m alright now, we can go,’ he said, as Branimir strode off the bus.
Branimir scanned the area. ‘Something’s not right,’ he said, eyes narrowing.
Dusting off his trousers, William followed Branimir’s gaze. A bush rustled on a high ledge a few metres away and an unkempt man rose out of it. He took one look at Branimir and ran in the opposite direction.
William felt queasy again. ‘We’ve been followed haven’t we?’ He swayed a little.
Branimir nodded. ‘On the bus, now,’ he whispered.
Before Ichabod could start the engine they heard loud whirring sounds coming from behind the ledges.
William looked back just before the door closed. ‘They have vehicles too,’ he said, eyes locking onto the rusted hulks that had appeared through the trees.
She runs her hand down the cold bricks, fingers falling into the cracks, feeling the slime that’s built up within them. She hears a noise beside her and looks down. ‘How long have you been here?’ she asks the woman slumped on the floor.
The woman’s skin sags loosely over her bones, her face hidden by a matted mane of tangled hair. ‘A week, a few days, time means nothing to me any more,’ she replies, lifting her head slightly. Her eyes might be violet, but it’s hard to be sure in the gloom.
‘This isn’t the end,’ she says, crouching down and stroking one of the woman’s skeletal kneecaps.
The woman says nothing in reply, and her head falls back to her chest, limply hanging from her brittle neck.
‘You can’t just give up,’ she whispers, clenching her fist. ‘I won’t, I never will.’
She stands and walks to the prison bars that hold her in this terrible place. She looks across and sees the boy, huddled in a corner, injured and shivering. The anger boils within her. She can feel it rising into her face.
‘They’re becoming animals; the thing that separates them from beasts is failing. There’s no hope for them,’ she says to whoever is listening, tears pooling. ‘But we’ll be saved, I know it.’
She sniffs and stops herself from crying. No use in wasting her strength. She’ll need it if she is to get through this. If she is to live.
The door at the head of the prison’s corridor creaks open, and slams into the wall behind it. She jumps.
The guard, if that’s what he is, steps through, heading straight for her cell. Is it her turn now? The screams from before had stopped…
He walks to her cell and shoves open the door. He pushes her and she trips, landing roughly on the floor. She watches through aching eyes as he grabs the other woman. The woman tries weakly to fight, feebly trying to scratch his arms, but his baton strikes her skull and he drags her outside. She’s no match for his strength.
Where the woman had sat lies a small object. She looks closer, squinting. A ring. It seems familiar, but how? She scoops up the ring, and crawls to the prison bars. She looks to the woman, who’s been thrown to the floor just outside her cell as the guard locks the door. Through the dim light, the woman manages a smile, and a nod towards the ring clasped in her hands. ‘The guard dropped it days ago,’ she whispers. ‘Keep it for comfort.’
The guard finishes locking the cell and starts to drag the woman off.
She looks away, tears dropping onto the ring’s engraved surface. She reads the words, and as each one hits, her heart beats faster.
Realisation dawns.
Closely followed by anger.
She clenches the ring, hard.
Chapter 13
Twists and Turns
The chase was on, accompanied by William’s thudding heart. A rusted pickup truck and two motorcycles had smashed through the trees and were tailing them. He closed his eyes and began to pray… he stopped himself. Was there actually anyone to pray to? Did it make sense? He shook his head.
‘I can get some space between us, but they’ll still be able to follow our tracks,’ said Ichabod, cranking the engine even harder. The bus screamed along, engine objecting to being so thoroughly ill-treated.
‘Then we have no choice but to stop and lead them away from Igraine and the children,’ said Branimir, turning to face Igraine. ‘You must take the children to the rendezvous point. We will try and shake these maniacs and meet you there. Even if we don’t make it, the others might, and the mission still has a chance.’
Igraine stumbled up the aisle, holding onto each seat for stability, and placed a hand on Branimir’s broad shoulder. ‘The Hollow will prevail.’
‘No, no. We can’t split up,’ said William anxiously. ‘We can’t.’
The kindly woman looked over at William. ‘This isn’t over yet. We Havenites don’t give up so easily, you know.’
‘B–but why can’t we stick together?’ stammered William, his lower jaw shaking.
‘You want us to stop Terrafall don’t you?’ Branimir said. William nodded.
‘So, you have to go on and meet with the others. They may even come across you if you manage to stay strong and go now!’
‘But is Blake going to be alright, shouldn’t he come with us too?’ William’s gaze shot from Branimir to Blake, who’d been so upset earlier and on the edge of cracking up.
‘I’ll be fine, don’t you worry. You just look after yourself,’ Blake replied, patting William’s back. He seemed to have returned to normal; the nervous wreck from before had disappeared under a newfound courage.
The bus lurched forward, sending them off their chairs. ‘Sorry guys, but it’s going to get bumpy,’ said Ichabod. ‘Once we gain enough distance I’ll stop and that’ll be your cue to get moving.’
Blake pulled out a one handed silver crossbow, his hands shaking a little. ‘And I’ll cover you if it’s needed.’
‘I–I don’t like this Alfie,’ said Ori, curled into her side.
‘I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise,’ she replied, looking desperately at William.
William didn’t know how to take that look. He knew of no way he could comfort her, because he really d
idn’t know how this was going to pan out. Badly, he suspected.
The bus stopped, spinning tyres sending ash and stones into the air. ‘Go, go, go,’ screamed Ichabod.
Igraine grabbed Althea’s hand and pulled her and Ori off the bus. William stopped and looked at Ichabod, heart drumming under his ribs. Ichabod reached over and shook his hand. ‘Keep off the roads, stay in shadows,’ he said. ‘You can do this, and I promise we will see each other again.’
William’s cheeks became damp. ‘I know we will, and then we’ll all save everyone.’
Ichabod nodded. ‘Go son, before it’s too late.’
A screech of tyres and shouts filled the air. William was sure he heard an arrow soaring, the impact as it dug into someone and the scream that followed. He compressed the noises into one sound by humming loudly. He really didn’t want to know if the bus had been captured.
He raced through the trees, dead branches lashing his face, not knowing if he was being chased. He’d lost Althea, Ori and Igraine, but carried on regardless. Did he actually know where he was going? No, he really didn’t. Only running away from the bus made sense. But, if he couldn’t find them, would he survive alone? He doubted it.
The topography changed, and damp forest debris was causing him to slip as his pounding feet sought to gain traction. He fought to keep his footing. The snagging undergrowth grabbed for him, like thin, gnarled hands working for the bandits. The smell of musky earth provoked a brief autumnal memory, but it was soon pushed out by the urgency of his mission, and the pain in his chest.
After a while William stopped. He had to catch his breath, only to discover his throat was horribly dry from the harsh air. Before he could move again, the ground began to tremble beneath his feet, so he grabbed hold of a tree, its slimy bark uncomfortable on his palms. The tremor increased in intensity. Maybe this was the big one? This could be the end of him? He’d die right where he stood. It might be easier than the alternative.
‘Don’t stop,’ he whispered to himself. He couldn’t think like that. He had to continue.