The Wheel: A Young Adult Dystopian Novel (Nightfall Book 1)

by Cynthia Hickey

  My bed that night was harder than the one I’d slept in at home. A thin blanket all that would cover me. When banging on the door signaled the time to get up, I folded the blanket and shoved it into the pillowcase, tying the case to my pack. Now that I knew I’d be dropped in an unfamiliar, terrifying place and could leave with whatever I could carry, I’d make sure to take it all.

  I ignored the humorous look on my trainer’s face as I marched past her. She led me into another room where I sat at a table alone. Minutes later, she joined me, setting a plate piled high with meat and doughy biscuits covered with a thick sauce. Other than the feast, I’d never eaten so much.

  “Fattening me up?”

  “Giving you as much strength as possible before every second is a fight for survival.”

  “Who are you?” I sopped my biscuit into the sauce, feeling far older than I’d felt the day before.

  “Alga. I didn’t relish the retired life and while I still eat well and sleep in a soft bed, I wanted to train so no one went in as a Stalker as blind as I did. Not many females are built like me. I wanted to prepare them.”

  “Why are there no others being trained?”

  “No one else had the same ill luck at the wheel as you. Not in a while, at least.” She flashed a smile, revealing a mouth with as much missing teeth as there were teeth. “Some years we have more than one, some we have none. We haven’t had a new Stalker in almost six months. You’ll make number seven to patrol the nearest city.”

  Great. That means an indeterminate amount had gone before me and perished. Now, only seven against how many Malignants? The food lost its taste and sat in my stomach like a stone. Tears pricked my eyes. I missed Mam and wondered whether I’d ever see her again.

  Alga’s slap threw my head back. “No tears. Never cry. Do not be weak.”

  I put a hand to my stinging cheek, the tears flowing freely now. “A warning would have sufficed.”

  “If you can’t handle a slap, you’ll not last a week out there.”

  When she raised her hand again, I reached for the dagger in my right boot. “Don’t.”

  “Good girl.” She sat back and laughed. “You’ll need that spunk. Now, eat. More training awaits.”

  I hated her after an hour of sword fight. I wanted to kill her after being chased for two miles by something that might or might not have been another hologram. I wanted to die by the time she led me to my room, minus a blanket and pillowcase this time. No worries. I used the ones I’d stolen and fell into a restless sleep full of faceless monsters.

  When Alga woke me the next morning, she again fed me well, with me hiding food on my body when I thought she wasn’t looking, then led me up several flights of stairs to the roof. In front of us sat a machine with whirling blades on top. I shot my trainer a wide-eyed look. “Am I expected to get inside that?”

  “Yes, and you’ll be expected to jump out when told.” She jerked her head toward the machine. “Good luck, Crynn. My prayers are with you.” She turned and strolled away without a backward glance.

  A man with a black mask waved me forward. “Hurry up. I haven’t all day.”

  Struggling to appear brave, I climbed into the death trap and sat on a hard bench.

  “Put that on. You’ll need it when you jump out,” the pilot said. “See that red handle? You’ll pull that before you hit the ground. The chute might come in handy if you need to build shelter. Put that helmet on. You’ll be able to hear my commands while wearing it.” Before I had it strapped on over my pack and pillowcase, the contraption we rode in rose into the sky.

  The landscape under us was one of desolation. Nothing moved past our little district. Other than the hundreds of birds filling the gray sky, we seemed to be the only living things left on the planet. Fires burned around the city, but did little to dispel the gloom. I could only hope the pilot didn’t drop me into one.

  “See that wall? The Malignants live past there. I’ll hover over the first spot I see that isn’t swarming with them. There’s a map on the wall,” the pilot said. “Take it. You’ll need it to find your team. When I say jump, take off your helmet and jump or I’ll turn and dump you out. Land, fold your chute, and run like hell. Ready?”

  When I saw those…things, pale, skinless creatures that ran on two long back legs and two shorter front legs, I wanted to shout no, that I’d never be ready. Instead, I grabbed the map and shoved it down the front of my shirt.

  “Go stand by the door.”

  My hands shook as I undid my seatbelt and staggered toward the opening in the side of the machine. A little way ahead of us, I saw a large, cleared cement area. My guess that it was our target was confirmed within seconds as we hovered over a lot filled with dried weeds.

  “You have five seconds to get out of my plane.”

  I dropped the helmet, took a deep breath, and jumped.

  3

  I landed hard. My knees buckled, and I hit the pavement hard enough to knock the breath out of me as if I’d been rammed in the stomach with a board. I’d managed to get the chute open just in time to slow my fall. Trying to ignore the fact those…things were out there, I fought to control my breathing while fighting with a nylon chute intent on keeping me in its cocoon.

  By the time I unwrapped myself, the flying machine was gone. Nothing moved. I heard nothing but the wind through the tall weeds and broken buildings. Sitting up slowly, I peered around, then stood, quickly rolling my chute into a tight wad that would fit under my shirt.

  The tall buildings cast the day into further darkness, the only light came from fires that still burned after a century. I’d heard tales of the unearthly fires, but had never seen them. They didn’t look any different than the one that burned in our hearth at home.

  I plunged my hand down the front of my shirt and pulled out the map. It showed the way across the lot I now stood in and through two tall buildings. Then a left, then a right, then another right. I had no idea how I’d know the final place when I reached it and hoped someone would be there to greet me.

  A shrill shriek sent me running across the dried grasses. My boots landed with dull thuds on what had once been all concrete but nature had quickly reclaimed with foliage rising through the cracks. Another shriek came from my right. What if those things waited for me in the shadows? No one would be there to help.

  My throat threatened to seize as I pulled my sword and continued as fast and quietly as I could. Things I couldn’t see scurried through the weeds. Something clanged ahead of me. I wouldn’t be deterred. I increased my pace, staying in the middle of what was once a road and stopped periodically to hunker down behind a hunk of twisted metal to gather my wits and take stock of my surroundings.

  My stomach rumbled, reminding me it had been a few hours since I’d eaten. I dug in my back and grabbed a stale biscuit. Not knowing how long until a food drop, I needed to make what I had last as long as possible. Getting to my feet, I walked as I nibbled, my ears strained to hear, and my eyes open to see.

  Something darted across the road in front of me. The bite of biscuit stuck in my throat. I covered my mouth and coughed. A shriek sounded again, this time closer. I barely got my sword out before…it…jumped at me. Something pale and pink, half human, half beast, with large fangs, big eyes and ears, and a smell bad enough to knock you over.

  I fell backward, sword held upright. The Malignant impaled itself on the sword. Dark blood spilled from its gut. I gagged and rolled away, yanking my weapon free. I kicked the offending creature. “You aren’t so bad all on your own.” The problem was there was more of them scuttling through the buildings.

  A quick glance at the map, and I continued toward my destination. Slow going with piles of debris and ancient vehicles blocking my path. Shadows darted past open windows of buildings long empty of human occupation. I’d never felt lonelier in my life.

  Remembering Alga’s warning not to cry, I squared my shoulders, blinked back tears, and continued my race toward what I hoped was safety and companion
ship. I careened around a corner and ran smack into a hard vest-covered chest. Reaching for my sword had become second nature.

  “Whoa, there, shrimp.” A young bald man with a few days of stubble on his face grabbed my wrist. He looked to be a few years older than myself. “No need to kill me. I think we’re on the same side.”

  I narrowed my eyes and sheathed my sword. “How did you find me?”

  “A helicopter is hard to miss.” He grinned.

  So, that’s what it was called. It surprised me that I hadn’t seen a photo of one in the books I’d read. “For you and every Malignant within five miles. I’m Crynn Dayholt.” I thrust out my hand.

  He glanced at my blood-covered hand. “I’ll pass on the shake. Name’s Fawke Newton. You’re smaller and younger than our last leader, but you’ve obviously seen action and survived. Follow me.”

  “Your mother misses you.”

  Pain flickered across his strong face. “No more than I miss her. I’ve only two more years and I can be rid of this place, maybe.”

  “You’ve been here for eight years?” My eyes widened.

  He nodded. “A few of the other Stalkers have been here longer. With a criminal past, they’ve been assigned this job for the rest of their lives.”

  “Are there laws out here to break?”

  “Yes.” His navy eyes settled on me. “Being responsible for the death of another Stalker because of negligence could get you here for life. So can cowardice.”

  I couldn’t help but wonder if those who’d been here a while had done one of those or committed their crimes back home. Time would tell. I vowed not to betray or hinder my teammates.

  “The oldest member of our team, Ezra, chose to stay. Said he had nothing left for him back home.”

  “Where are the others?” My short legs had a hard time keeping up with his longer stride.

  “At the shelter. Finding you only took one of us.” His gaze raked over me again and he laughed. “You’re loaded down, aren’t you?”

  “I didn’t know what I’d need.” I hitched my chin at his teasing.

  “First thing will be to get you cleaned up. You reek.” He fell silent as the sounds through the buildings intensified.

  “You’ve water here?”

  “Not to drink until a drop is made.” He held up a fist, signaling me to stop. “We’ll have to take a short cut. There are too many of them between us and the others.” He grabbed me close enough to smear the blood on my chest onto his. “Covering our smell is the best thing. Duck in here.”

  Why wasn’t Fawke the leader? He obviously knew what to do, where to go, how to protect himself. I had so many questions whirling in my head, but the deeper we got into the building the more the instinct to be quiet rose. So did the smell of rot and decay.

  I untied a scarf from around my waist and covered my nose and mouth much to Fawke’s amusement. His eyes twinkled before he turned and continued the march forward. He could laugh all he wanted, but the smell of myself and the air around us made my stomach churn. If I had a few drops of Mams’s precious floral scent I’d have sprinkled some on the scarf. I had a feeling those type of luxuries were far in my future.

  Fawke led me through one building after another, stopping to press his back against the wall, let an unseen Malignant pass, then stepping back into the open and continuing. I copied his movements and made note of anything that would show me the way again should I be out alone.

  As we walked, I noted how overdressed I seemed in contrast to his camouflage pants and shirt. A dark scarf hung around his neck. Tied to his right thigh was something similar to my sheath but that was not a sword he carried in his hand. It rather looked like a cannon of some kind. The vest I’d smashed my nose against was gray and made of a hard substance, no doubt a shield of some sort. The cold didn’t seem to bother him like it did me.

  He stopped suddenly, and I ran into the back of him. He sighed and glanced over his shoulder with a scowl. Putting a finger to his lips, he shook his head.

  I nodded, my face heating. My legs felt as heavy as boulders from all the walking and running I’d done that day. All I wanted to do was drink something cool and lie down, pretending the last two days was nothing more than a nightmare. But, the cold, the fires, the sounds and smells were all very real.

  “See that tunnel?” Fawke pointed to an opening under a building across from us. “That’s our shelter. Only one way in and one way out.”

  “Isn’t that a Malignant lying in wait?” I motioned to one lying next to the opening.

  “It’s dead. It’s there to cover our scent so we can come and go, although the blood you’re covered with should suffice right now. Come quick and be silent.” He sprinted across the open ground and into the tunnel.

  Before I could change my mind, I darted after him, skirting around the dead body, and into an inky blackness. After a few seconds my eyes adjusted enough for me to see a glimmer of light shining from the end of the tunnel. Time for me to meet the rest of my comrades.

  I hitched my chin, straightened my back, stepped into the light, and stopped. My gaze flicked over the group of six, but I stood silent and let them inspect me.

  “Guys, meet our new leader, Crynn Dayholt. She got the lucky winning spin on the wheel.” Fawke bowed toward me. “She’s already seen action and lived to tell the tale.”

  “Let’s hope it wasn’t dumb luck.” A man with gray hair cut short, wearing blue denim pants and a leather jacket nodded my way. “I’m Ezra Bruno, long time and life-time Stalker.”

  A man with ebony skin introduced himself as Dante Pitts. Unless he was one of the criminals, his servitude would be over before Fawke’s, judging by his age. Another man not as old as Ezra introduced himself as Moses Rake. A girl a little older than myself was named Gage Blue, and the last member of our group, also female and older than she should have been to still be there identified herself as Kira Darke.

  Kira offered to show me where to clean up and led me down a short hall away from the others. Water spilled from a hole above us to disappear into another hole in the floor. “The water’s cold as ice,” she said, “but it’ll get that blood off your clothes. This is where you’ll shower when you need to. Just don’t drink the stuff. It’s bitter, and you’ll spend a lot of time on the toilet.” She gave me a thin-lipped smile. “Join us when you’re done so we can fill you in on things. You sure do wear a lot of clothes.”

  “Wait. How long have you been here?” I started peeling off my packs and layers.

  “Over twelve years, I think.” Her shoulders slumped. “Bring any food supplies out with you. We share everything here in order to survive. Hoarding is against the rules.”

  I almost thought against following that particular request, but realized it could be construed as hindering my comrades and/or putting them in danger. From what I’d seen so far, staying here one minute past my twenty-eighth birthday was one minute too long.

  Kira hadn’t been joking about the water’s temperature. My fingers were numb before I had all the blood scrubbed from my clothes. When I’d finished, I donned my wet things and dragged my packs back to where the others waited.

  While they watched, I pulled out the food I’d taken from the feast and breakfast each morning. Appreciation glowed on Fawke’s face. I ducked my head to hide my pleasure.

  “You believe in being prepared for anything,” he said, “as evidenced by food I recognize from years ago and all the things you’ve carried on your back. Maybe you’ll be a worthy leader after all.”

  I stood and stared at each of the others in turn. “Why didn’t one of you take the role of leader? You’ve more experience than I could gain in two days of training and one day making my way here.”

  Ezra laughed. “Because those black stripes on your face means the Malignants will target you first.”

  I reached up and touched the tacky strip on my face.

  “To remove that status symbol,” Gage said, “means an eternity spent here. None of us wanted t
hat responsibility.”

  “It appears I got lucky.” I sat on a roughly made chair and stared at the fire someone had thoughtfully built. I didn’t plan on moving until my clothes dried, and my mind grasped the new reality of my life.

  How would anyone know if I wiped away the stripes unless one of my team told? Who would they tell?

  4

  The next morning, I shoved my pillow and blanket into a battered locker Fawke had assigned to me. He assured me no one would take my things, but since I was the only one with something soft for my head, a niggle of doubt plagued me. I didn’t know these people I’d been assigned to work with. Without a lock, I had no other option than to trust them. My backpack had grown heavy, and I didn’t relish always having it on. When had I grown so pessimistic? When the wheel had landed on that single black square, that’s when.

  Breakfast that morning consisted of the stale biscuits I turned over to the group and some kind of gray, watery soup. More than I was used to, no matter how unappealing it seemed. “What days do you receive the weekly drop?”

  “Sundays at noon,” Gage said, cutting the biscuits in half, handing us each a half, then spooning the gravy over the top.

  “That’s today.” I grinned.

  “That smile won’t last long.” Ezra sopped up his gravy. “The Malignants have gotten used to the drop and wait for us to arrive. We have to fight our way to the crate. That’s where we keep losing our leader.”

  It wouldn’t happen to me. I summoned up whatever authority I’d been blessed with and stared at each person around the fire. “I’m the leader, right? You have to do as I say, correct?”

  Six pairs of eyes narrowed. Six heads nodded reluctantly.

  “Good. We’ll all wear hoods that cover the bottom half of our faces, leaving only our eyes free. If those things are looking for these black stripes on my cheeks, they won’t know which of us has them. We’ll all be at the same risk.” I crossed my arms. “It appears to me that you haven’t been very good protectors of your leader in the past. I plan to remedy that.”