ME2 (S.E.E.D.S. Book 1)

by J Peregrine

  The bandstand was a crumbling mass of concrete, so we skirted its edge sticking to the grassy area beyond as the moon disappeared, and it started to rain again and quickly turned into a downpour. We moved faster once we got past the bandstand. As we moved onto smooth concrete I had to concentrate on the slippery ground at my feet. A few glances toward where we were heading showed the remains of a building that had to have been a museum at one time. The steps were partly intact, and as the buildings we had passed the day before, this one too had the remnants of glass particles turned back to clear sand spread in a blanket on the ground under our feet.

  “Here,” Jake said, above the rain, handing me a small piece of glow stick. “Watch your step,” he said into my face as the wind whipped past us, soaking us from all sides.

  Above us soared the remains of a spectacular staircase. As the clouds again rolled away from the moon, its light illuminated this strange refuge. There were pieces of the steps next to the wall still intact. Shining my stick past Jake, I could see shadows on the walls where paintings must have been. It looked like the paintings were now burnt right onto the walls from a blast or something that emitted such high heat that they were now part of the wall.

  It was surreal to be in a building that had suffered the attacks and the blasts I had seen in the newsreels from that time. When we got to the second floor, the wind made sounds like an ancient orchestra as it played across the torn metalwork and stone. On the walls hung pieces of metal that had been frames at one time. There were a few frames where it appeared like the canvas and paint had hardened together and melted into the stone almost like a rough callous that now adhered to the wall.

  I shone my light onto the wall where the remnants of one frame held the shadow of a portrait that had merged with the wall. It was that of a woman, but only one side of her face. It showed the hours of work where the artist had revealed all the contours and shadows of her face, all of her complexities of sadness and delight. The other side of her face had fallen away. It was as if she had come to a tortured end and we could now see through into her soul.

  As we rounded the corner to the next flight of stairs, there was an alcove where the walls formed a ‘U’ and offered a little protection from the wind and rain. “We can stop here and rest for a while,” said Jake.

  “Here?” I said, looking up at the woman’s face again.

  “Why not?” He gave me a curious look.

  “It’s eerie, don’t you think?”

  He had already slid his back down the wall to sit. “I guess I thought that at one time, but not now,” he said, and closed his eyes. “Now it is just a refuge.”

  "So, you've been here before?" I asked.

  Eyes still closed, he nodded.

  We sat with our backs against one of the remaining walls. I felt strange and sad sitting here within these ruins... “I didn't think it was like this.... I didn't think there was nothing."

  He opened his eyes, but he didn't look at me. Instead, he stared out at the night. "The Agency rebuilt a small section. Dungadar says that the ones who put themselves in charge found the remains of a few buildings up on the hills to the west."

  "Have you ever been there?" I asked.

  Still resting his head against the wall, he said, "You can't get close to it... unless you want to get caught or killed. A bunch of old soldiers guard the perimeter." He shook his head and got out his water skin.

  I wished I would have been around to see all these paintings and sculptures when they were intact. "Have you seen other areas like this?" He didn't respond. "The fact that we are sitting in the midst of a great museum and all that's left are the ghosts of its great paintings scorched onto the walls. It's eerie...” I stared up at the painting above us.

  “What about the real ghosts, all the people who lost their lives. There was a total disregard for life during the wars.” He had closed his eyes but it sounded like he felt responsible.

  “It happened long before we...”

  “Our ancestors were here. Do you think they were innocent?” he cut in.

  "I don't know," I said, "I hope so...." We sat in silence. He was right of course.

  Sudden sounds from the ground made me jump and my adrenaline spike. Jake stirred instantly, getting up and going to the edge near where we were resting. The floor dropped away where the concrete had been torn, and huge pieces dangled out into the open air. He looked towards me and put a finger to his lips as he went around a piece of wall, watching for something below us. He was gone for some time, but he eventually came quietly back and sat down, resting his head against the cold stone.

  Chapter 29

  We sat there, side by side, neither of us sleeping but motionless and quiet, adrenaline still coursing through my veins. I closed my eyes. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I woke to the sound of howling which startled me again until I realized it was just the wind. I shivered and rubbed my arms.

  “You cold?” Jake whispered.

  “A little,” I said, and realized I was shivering.

  He got up and moved toward the edge. I didn't know what was out there. Maybe more runners, maybe worse?

  He looked down and then out over the city, then he came back. “If we sit together, we'll stay warmer.” he said, pointing toward the cold wall at my back.

  Wet and cold is not a good combination so I agreed and scooted forward. He sat down behind me, settling himself between the wall and my back, then we wrapped the cloak around both of us.

  It was definitely warmer this way, but I dared not lean back, even this close he had my senses on fire so there would be no chance of sleep. I stared out into the night and realized the moon had come out again from behind the shifting clouds high above us. The only thing I could think of was the sound of his breathing as I felt his chest rise and fall behind me. I forced myself to think of other things and remembered the conversation we had been having before the explosion.

  “Jake," I whispered, "when we were talking to V and Dungadar about Mo, you said, he made you, what did you mean?”

  He was quiet for so long I wondered if he had fallen asleep but finally, he said, “They took me before, when I was young. They took blood from me. The first time they let me go, maybe I was too young. The second time I escaped, I heard Mo and the Albino talking. That's how I know where the lab is.... We always thought they grabbed the kids to put them to work, but now I think it's more sinister than that. I think they made copies of themselves, and we are their copies.”

  “You can't be serious?”

  He went on as if he hadn't heard me, “I think they want to live forever.” I could feel his anger now. “We are their replacements... I know it sounds crazy,” he said, raking his hands back through his hair. "But think about it. If they can use our parts any time one of theirs wears out it could keep them alive practically forever. We're their fountain of youth,” his voice was low, and he sounded tired and worn. “If he created you, he will use you, he doesn't have a conscience. They don't care about anyone but themselves. So, pay attention or you may disappear before you even have time to even say hello.” I could feel him lean his head back against the wall again.

  “It can’t be true,” I said. This was crazy but somehow, I sensed it had at least a kernel of truth to it.

  “You need to learn to trust no one. Just like the slave traders you ran into in the wilds. If the Agency wants you and they feel it is their right to have you, they will pay well for anyone who brings you in...”

  “Is that your job?”

  He tensed and then he sighed. “You’re learning but no, lucky for you I am not one of them.”

  Now that I wasn’t running I could think about all the things I had heard about Mo and the Albino and the children and the more I thought, the angrier I became. “Are you sure about this?” I asked.

  He didn’t answer at first. “I know it seems crazy but everything they’ve done points to it being true. They want to use us to remake themselves and never die. Once they finish with o
ne body, there will be another waiting in the wings, maybe one that is even better, stronger, faster, even more immune to disease and aging, and death. They could live on forever.”

  “How do you know?” I asked, a little afraid to know the answer.

  “They entice kids to join them, they are young and naïve, but they want to be big shots. The runners and poachers spend their time boasting and trying to scare each other and their prey. The older ones brag about what they think they know. They say he’s trying to transplant everything.” He paused for a moment. “Maybe he found a way.”

  I shook my head. I couldn’t believe he was talking about Mo. “It can't be true,” I said, and turned to face him. “You get one life, that’s the deal.” I got up and went to the edge. I closed my eyes to still my heart and then looked out across the city to the hills. “It can’t be true.” I turned back to him looking for some kind of confirmation that I was right, but he had closed his eyes still leaning against the wall, hands clasped over his drawn-up knees and said nothing. “Does everyone know about this?” I watched his face for a sign.

  “Not everyone believes it but everyone who cares knows. We’ve tried reasoning with them. We’ve tried to destroy the labs, but they have more firepower than we do and more soldiers.” He sighed a huge sigh. “We’ve tried to educate our young people, but the Agency offers food, drugs, housing for anyone that comes to work. It’s the same whether you’re an organ donor or a sweeper. The kids that are the sweepers get perks and bonuses if they bring another kid in. When you’re hungry and you've got nothing and someone offers to take care of you dangling the promise of bigger and better things, even if it's not real, you hope it's real.”

  I thought about this for a few minutes. “Is everyone a clone of someone who’s already here?”

  “Well, except for a few of the younger ones who were finally healthy enough to have their own. But our genetic parents could be anyone who has connections to the Agency, meaning Mo or Andre. V and Dungadar are my family but to Mo and the Agency we are just a collection of spare parts. He used our mothers as carriers, nothing more. You have to understand, they didn’t realize he had cloned us, they didn't realize he was mad. They thought he was doing artificial insemination. They trusted him."

  He stopped for so long I thought he had gone to sleep.

  "Dungadar says we were only a loose collection of people before but as soon as they went into hiding to keep their children safe, they became a village, a tribe with a purpose. Unfortunately, we lead a hard life, so some of the kids have gone over to the Agency for their promises of food and drugs. They promise them something better. But in reality, they become slaves, and organ donors.

  “Then why were you out in the wilderness alone?”

  I watched as Jake looked down at his hands in the moonlight. “They started hunting us hard core.” He laughed. Then he got up and rubbed his face and moved to the edge of the broken floor and squatted. "They've taken so many... I thought if I wasn't here maybe they would stop hunting us so aggressively, so I left. If nothing else, I thought they might look for me and leave the village alone."

  I looked up at another portrait bathed in the moonlight and shivered. It was the portrait of a man without eyes and I couldn't tell whether it was because of the damage to it or whether it had been painted like this but it looked like the skin was torn off half his face and the other half was distorted into a scream.

  Chapter 30

  We had agreed to take shifts keeping watch so we could each get some sleep. I had slept first and now I stood watch waiting for him to fall asleep. It was raining again, which was in my favor. I hoped the patter of the rain would lull him into a deep sleep and cover up any sound of me leaving. I had decided I couldn't make him take me to Mo and I felt guilty leaving him unguarded, but it was better for me to leave him unguarded here than to make him go anywhere closer to Mo.

  I went silently down a concrete edge that must have been the hallway. I followed this to the other end of the building. Then I skirted the outside of the opposite stairs. I assumed it didn’t really matter which way I traveled from where we were, so I went with what I felt was southeast. The giant hunks of concrete we had traveled through the day before had probably been the foundations for large office buildings or warehouses from before the war. The area I climbed through now seemed older, buildings that had been old before the fall. There were mounds of what might have been red or brown bricks at one time that had crumbled into dust. I could imagine that these may have once been like the two or three-story walk-ups I had seen in many movies.

  I moved as fast as I could in the dark since I was trying to put some distance between myself and Jake. I didn’t want him to wake up and be able to catch up with me before I had found anyone. So, I wasn’t picky about which direction I was going as long as I wasn’t circling back on myself. Once I got a ways away I would come up with a plan. This of course was a bad idea and I knew it, but I finally realized how dangerous it was for Jake to take me to Mo. So, I had no choice but to find Mo myself by getting caught.

  I came to an intersection of pathways and stopped. I needed to choose a direction. On one side of this mass of rubble, there was the partial remains of a building that may have housed something within the last century. It had several walls still standing while the building across from it looked like it had not stood since before the middle ages. I had taken a cautious drink from my water skin and slung it back over my shoulder when I heard a noise.

  My senses went on high alert. Where had the noise come from? Then I watched as a single stone trickled down the side of a wall of the burnt out building next to us. Looking up, I saw a mop of blond hair over a pale face, red from exertion and I ran.

  Rocks scattered under my feet and ricocheted off the walls beside me. I flew between the buildings or the remains of buildings as fast as my feet would carry me, jumping over scattered piles of fallen bricks and what was left of rusted rebar from former buildings.

  I rounded a corner and saw, at the other end of the alley, a tall, yellow-haired, young man drop from above. The young man smiled but not in a way that promoted glad feelings.

  I ducked into a building on the other side of the alley, its doors and windows a thing of the past. I flew through it and into the street on the other side then into another building and out into the alley behind it. I ran to the end and turned right this time. A minute later I could hear someone skidding around in the rock at the corner I had just taken, so I ducked into another building on my left. As I ran, I saw the two runners converging on me, one from the left and the other from my right, that made three in total. My plan was to get caught and taken in but now in the dark the possibilities of all that might happen if three rabid boys caught me alone in the dark made me remember all the horror movies I had ever watched, so I moved faster.

  I came to a spot that might offer me an advantage. I grabbed a handful of rocks and hurled them along the wall in front of me and then jumped up on a partial wall and scooted into a space behind the remains of another wall that ran perpendicular to the one I was on, squatting down trying to squelch my winded breathing. I heard the runners below me as they skidded around the corner and came to a stop. I assumed they were looking into the empty space below me but seeing nothing they spoke to each other and then took off again down the alley.

  I could still see the smaller one so I waited until all was quiet again and then ventured out on the wall that jutted out into the empty building and sat down on the edge which was none too comfortable, knocking dust and debris into the air and letting my legs dangle. The boy, obviously smaller and younger than the others was sneaking up to look into the area below me. An idea had occurred to me, instead of hoping to follow the boys back to Mo unseen, I could get a safe escort. I just hoped my idea didn’t get me killed.

  Chapter 31

  When he looked in, he first surveyed the ground and seeing nothing, he was about to leave when he saw me sitting above him. He did a full stop, seemed to
look for his companions and then looked up at me. The look on his face showed this turn of events confused him.

  I was looking down at him, not smiling, just looking. I had pushed my hair back out of my face and was trying not to look winded but to look nonchalant instead.

  He looked at me for a moment longer than was comfortable. “Are you making fun of me? Cause if you are, I’ve got a pretty good pitch, you know.” and he took a step closer. “I can hit a tag from a half a lot away, you know...”

  He seemed to run out of threats and turned, looking for his companions or maybe to see if I had a back-up. This one was a toe head also and covered in dirt and grime. He was skinny but not starving I didn’t think. He had what I assumed was a black streak tattooed straight up his forehead from between his eyebrows. I assumed this was so they could recognize each other when they were hunting for loners as Jake had mentioned. He was obviously part of the team, but where the others had gone, I didn’t know except that they probably thought I was faster than they were and had disappeared down one of the alleys. I understood that he was still a threat to me but alone he was much less of a threat than the whole group.

  I had planned on feigning being unable to understand him, but I was too curious at this point to stay quiet. “Where have the others gone off to then?”

  “We thought you was headed for the tunnels. That’s where you come from right?” He picked his nose as he stood there and then sat down in the dust and pulled off one of his boots, patted the bottom knocking rocks and dirt out from within and put it back on. Then he did the same thing with the other foot. The boots were obviously handmade, but his actions seemed hopeless since the boots were full of holes, even on the bottom. He looked up at me now and scrunched his face. Was he attempting to look tough, or squinting so he could see me better?