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Protectors - Book one of Beyond These Walls: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller

Page 9

by Michael Robertson

When they turned into another alley, Matilda stopped again, the sky growing darker with the onset of night. The cooler temperature came as a relief against Spike’s sweating skin, but no doubt he’d feel the bite of the evening if they stopped for longer. To look at Matilda made him shake his head. After he’d pulled the front of his shirt down to uncover his face, he said, “You’re insane, you know that?”

  She shrugged.

  “I didn’t think you had that in you. You’ve always toed the line.”

  “Maybe I’m fed up with toeing the line.”

  “Clearly.”

  The two of them were smiling as they stood in the alley, and before Spike could say anything else, Matilda pointed at the large building close to them: the main factory in the textiles district. “Do you remember when we used to climb on the roof of that thing?”

  It made Spike smile to think about it. “And how many times we were chased away because of it.”

  “And the time we didn’t make it home for dinner.”

  Spike laughed. “Our parents went apeshit, eh?”

  A moment of sobriety, Matilda looked at the ground. He’d forgotten about the bruises she came to school with the next day. But she looked up again with steel in her eyes. “That was the last time he beat me. The next time he tried, I fought back. I think it was important for that reason.”

  “My mum thought I’d been eaten by a diseased,” Spike said. “Not that I could have gotten out of the city.”

  “I dunno.” Matilda took several settling breaths. “There’s always a way out if you really want to find it.”

  “And you want to find it?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You know what? The wall at the edge of our largest field looks like it could be climbed. Every time I see it, I plot a route to the top.”

  Despite the size of the large square building—the second largest structure in Edin after the arena—it looked much smaller than Spike remembered. It had been a few years since he’d walked down this street. With what they had coming tomorrow, everything looked smaller, almost as if the approaching national service forced Spike to view the world through the eyes of a man for the first time in his life. Tomorrow would change everything.

  When Matilda walked away from him, Spike said, “Where are you going?”

  Another tight alleyway ran along the side of the factory. It probably only existed so the large structure could collapse without taking down the neighbouring buildings. It served no other purpose because it led to a dead end. Even a small gap could mean the difference between just one building falling instead of an entire street going down like dominoes.

  Matilda stopped to look up and down the road—the sounds of the guards still in the air. They were far away for now, but they’d get closer. She moved towards the alleyway again.

  A similar check to be sure they weren’t being watched, Spike followed her.

  By the time Spike entered the alley, Matilda’s feet were as high as his head. She’d made a star with her body, her left foot and hand against the left wall, her right foot and hand against the right. Alternating between using the press of her feet against the walls on either side of her while she moved her hands higher, and then her hands while she lifted her feet, she moved up.

  Only about fifteen feet high, Matilda reached the top, grabbed onto the ledge, and pulled herself up onto the roof. She then disappeared from sight as she walked away from Spike.

  One final check, Spike followed her up, bracing against the close walls as he too shuffled to the top and onto the roof in the same way she had, though much slower than she had.

  The slightest slope to the wooden roof allowed for drainage. Spike walked up it over to where Matilda now sat. He plunked down next to her, let his feet hang over the edge, and looked at the fenced-in courtyard below. On days when they had fine weather, many of the workers preferred to be in the sunshine. The mess of tools still scattered around showed today had been one of those days. Several large sheets flapped in the gentle breeze like they had in the square.

  For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, both taking in the city around them. Most buildings were so small, they could see over the tops of them all the way to the walls on every side. They could even see the large wooden gates that led to the national service area. Yesterday, it wouldn’t have bothered Spike to look at them. But now, with national service so close and Matilda’s insistence he take it seriously, his heart fluttered at the sight of them.

  “Edin seemed a whole lot bigger the last time we were on this roof,” Matilda said.

  “A lot’s happened since then.”

  “How old were we when we last climbed up here?”

  Spike shrugged. “Thirteen.”

  “Thirteen? You seem pretty certain of that. How do you remember it so clearly?”

  A flush of heat smothered Spike’s face and he turned away. Because they were slightly higher up, the breeze lifted his hair. “I remember every day we’ve spent together.”

  “Every day?”

  It was too much to look at her, so Spike continued to stare out over the city. His gaze settled on the agricultural section, the place he’d called home for his entire life. He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Okay, what was I wearing on my thirteenth birthday?”

  Even as the wind picked up, the heat in Spike’s cheeks grew hotter. “Don’t do this, Tilly.”

  Jabbing his arm with a playful punch, she laughed. “I knew you couldn’t remember.”

  “In the same way I used to think this factory was huge, I used to think the fields in the agricultural district stretched for miles. But they look so small from up here. The walls look so close. We’re one bad harvest away from starvation.”

  “Like the famine just before we were born,” Matilda said. “I pray we never have to see that in our lifetime.”

  Although Matilda drew a breath to say something else, Spike cut her off. “You were wearing a blue polka-dot dress. You seemed really awkward in it because you were turning into a young woman and trying to deal with your changing body. But you had nothing to feel self-conscious about. We ate at Mr. P’s. He even found you a chocolate cake for dessert. Then we climbed up here.”

  Slack-jawed, Matilda continued to stare at him. “You remember all that?”

  Spike nodded. “You got upset with me because I didn’t compliment you on how beautiful you looked.”

  “God, I was a bossy cow.”

  “But you did look beautiful. You looked amazing.” Turning away, Spike faced the arena. “You always look amazing.” He kept his focus directed out over the rooftops. “You mentioned you wanted to run away. If you decide to, please tell me.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll come with you. I’ll come with you and Artan if that’s what you really want.”

  “What about your dream to become a protector?”

  “I do want to be one, but my dream’s ultimately about freedom. Freedom to go where I please and not live the life of a slave. I could have that outside these walls.”

  “But at what cost?”

  “I’m not sure. We don’t know what’s out there. But I’ll risk it if it means spending the rest of my life with you.” Spike sighed. “It’s not my first choice, but I just wanted to say if it’s something you need to do, then come and get me, okay? The carriage is picking us up in the morning for national service. If you come to me before then and say you want to go, I’ll come with you. I’ll take you to the wall I think we can climb.” Spike stood up before Matilda could say anything else. “I need to go and spend a bit of time with my parents before tomorrow. Whatever happens, I’ll see you soon, okay?”

  Matilda nodded.

  “Just promise me you’ll come and get me if you decide to leave?”

  She nodded again. “You’re one of the kindest people I know, Spike.”

  After leaning down and stroking her long brown hair from her face, Spike looked into the dark eyes he knew so well and said, “If I don’t see you tonight, I’
ll see you in the morning.”

  Again, Matilda nodded. Before Spike could turn and leave, she stood up and grabbed both of his hands in hers. She looked into his eyes. “I promised myself I’d never do this.” She leaned towards him.

  Despite all the exercise they’d done that evening, Spike’s heart beat harder than ever when they kissed. After they’d pulled away, he said, “What was that for? I thought we needed to hold back and not fall in love.”

  A slight wince, Matilda said, “Have you not fallen in love?”

  “I fell in love years ago. You know that.”

  “Well, I suppose tonight’s a night for breaking rules.”

  “Have you broken your rule to not trust anyone other than Artan?”

  The slightest smile lit Matilda’s face and she gently shook her head before leaning in and kissing him again.

  When she’d pulled away for a second time, Matilda said, “I’ve wanted to do that for ages. I don’t know what’s going to happen in national service, but I don’t want to regret never kissing you.”

  Spike squeezed her hands. “Just wake me up if you want to get out of the city. I’d follow you to the end of the world and back.”

  Again, Matilda smiled.

  After letting go of her, Spike stepped backwards before turning around and running to the edge of the roof. While slipping off the side, Matilda called after him, “Be careful on your way home.”

  Chapter 22

  She’d kissed him! Spike had been friends with Matilda for years, and for a lot of that time, he’d liked her in a way he shouldn’t. In a way reserved for protectors, politicians, and fools. But he hadn’t chosen those feelings, and once they’d risen up in him, he most certainly couldn’t deny them. Besides, she’d kissed him, not the other way around.

  The sky had the slightest blue tinge where the sun still cast a subtle influence over the day. Most of the light in the city now came from the fires lining the streets. A bounce in his step, Spike strolled through the agricultural district. Plain compared to textiles and ceramics, the place smelled of mud, the streets dirty from where many boots had dragged some of the field home with them.

  When Spike rounded the corner to see his house and his dad sitting outside it, he slowed his pace. The closer he got, the more his legs resisted his forward momentum, especially when he saw the chamber pots by his dad’s feet. He’d told Matilda he’d be waiting for her should she come. “Um … hi, Dad.”

  It looked like it caused his dad pain to smile, but he did it anyway. “Thought I’d wait for you. I wasn’t the best company last night, so I was wondering if you’d like to take one last walk to the wall before …” He cleared his throat. “Where’s your scarf?”

  Spike shrugged while tugging at his collar. “I didn’t want to wear it anymore. It’s tiring getting treated like a victim by everyone.”

  From the frown on his dad’s face, Spike guessed he wanted to say something about the dangers of walking the streets without a black scarf on. A paternal need to protect, even when the protection came across as pessimism. Instead, he nodded, his shoulders relaxing as he clearly let it go. “Fair enough. You won’t need it tonight anyway.”

  A large man, when Spike’s dad got to his feet, he stood slightly taller than Spike. A thick frame from working the fields in the agricultural district, it would take Spike years to develop the same level of strength his old man had. Spike might have had a six-pack and pecs, but his dad could drag a cart filled with hay if one of their horses let them down. His dad would wrestle Magma to the ground if he needed to.

  It had been a long time since Spike had seen hair on the top of his dad’s head. Grey around the sides and back, his dark bald scalp looked like a slab of leather from where it had been exposed to the sun for years, very little escaping it in the fields. Spike’s skin was a few shades lighter than his dad’s on account of his pale mother, but not so light that he burned from spending too long in the sun. His mum had to wear hats and layers in the fields; otherwise she turned into a blister and couldn’t move for a week. Even after all these years of being out in the elements, her skin hadn’t ever adjusted to it. “Where’s Mum?”

  “You know what your mother’s like. She’s in bits already. It wouldn’t do to have her sobbing as we walked through the city. You can’t remove that kind of attention like you can a black scarf.”

  Spike’s dad first handed him a coat, which he slipped on. As the day had come to a close, he’d regretted leaving the house in only a T-shirt. Although, he’d take hypothermia for another kiss from Matilda. After doing the buttons up, his dad gave him the smaller of the two chamber pots before picking up the other one himself.

  A bittersweet job because it gave them the chance to walk through the city whenever they pleased, but they had to have a sloshing bucket filled with piss and shit for the excuse to do it. At least they’d emptied them the previous night. The pots still stank, but didn’t weigh as much as they could have.

  As they set off, Spike looked back at his house. If Matilda did come for him, surely it would be much later in the night. With so many people still awake, it would be madness to try to escape now. Spike said, “So how was your day?”

  “Fine, the usual. Ploughing fields, sowing seeds, praying for rain …”

  “Were you and Mum in the same field today?”

  “No.”

  Conversation normally flowed easily between them, but it felt like conversing with a stranger tonight. As much as Spike wanted to suggest they go home, he knew it would break his dad’s heart. While staring in front of him, the flickering torches in their metal baskets animating the shadows in his peripheral vision, he looked in the direction of the small communal plaza close to them. “Do you think there will be anyone at the dentist today?”

  It broke through his dad’s scowl, the slightest twist of a smile lifting his face. When he looked at Spike, his eyes were alive. “Is it mean to say I hope so?”

  “No. We all have to do it eventually.”

  As if confirming Spike’s statement, his dad’s top lip bulged where he played with the gap from his most recent removal. “Besides,” his dad said, “as entertaining as it is to watch, I feel like the support afterwards is genuine and important for the patient. You get a lot of love from the crowd after sitting in the chair. Believe me, you need it!”

  When they rounded the next corner, the small square opened up in front of them. They’d entered at the highest point, the plaza sloping down to the other side, giving them a clear view of the chair in the middle. It had a shelter over it, the top covered in fabrics from the textiles district. Not waterproof, but it helped when it rained. All four sides were open for the spectators to see the patient, flaming baskets providing the light. Both Spike and his dad stopped to look.

  “Why do they make a public show of this?” Spike said.

  “I think it makes it easier for others to go through with the procedure when they need to. We all know it’s a horrific thing to have to do, but to see others cope with it at least normalises it.”

  “Did it make it easier for you to have it done?”

  “I’m not sure. I don’t know what it would have been like to have it done any other way.”

  The man in the chair glistened with sweat. Pale, he looked ready to vomit. Wide eyes fixed on the dentist as if he wanted to shut out everyone else there, the man visibly shook.

  Dentists in Edin weren’t employed for their finesse. The woman looked as much an executioner as she did a medic. A bloodstained, off-white bandana across the lower half of her face, she said nothing, raising her spike and mallet while the man reclined in the seat.

  A knot tied in Spike’s stomach as the crowd around him fell silent. Thankfully, he hadn’t yet had a toothache. But it would come. It came for everyone sooner or later.

  Spike shifted from one foot to the other as if he could evade his discomfort.

  Because Spike had seen many dentists before, he recognised the competence of the one in front of him. W
ith total confidence, she pressed the spike against the man’s tooth, the chink of metal meeting enamel. She then raised her hammer. Although the man shifted where he sat, the dentist kept the spike pinned to the tooth. When she moved, she moved fast, sending one sharp whack against the flattened head of the spike.

  The man’s scream took flight, bouncing off the closed walls around them. While he yelled, the dentist grabbed him, shoved him forward, and slammed a hard slap against his back. Blood exploded from his mouth. Hopefully the tooth came out with it.

  Despite the applause, Spike stood frozen to the spot. It took for his dad to nudge him before he started clapping too.

  “You need to do the supporting bit,” his dad said. “That man needs celebrating for what he’s just been through.”

  It took a few minutes of cheering and clapping before the colour returned to the man’s face, blood and spit dribbling from his chin. When he stood up and offered the crowd a smile, they cheered louder at being given a glimpse of the gap in his bottom row of teeth. The man then pressed his hands together in thanks to the dentist and his audience, bowing at them both before he stumbled away on wobbly legs.

  Spike’s dad put his arm around Spike and pulled him in close, squeezing him tightly. “Come on,” he said, nodding in the direction of Edin’s towering back wall. “Let’s get going.”

  Maybe he stayed in his dad’s embrace for a few seconds longer than he needed to, but his dad didn’t seem to mind, so Spike made the most of it. At the end of national service he’d get into the protector trials. After he’d won the apprenticeship, he’d be on the path to becoming a protector. Protectors didn’t stand in public squares hugging their dads, so he needed to wring every last drop out of it now.

  Chapter 23

  The large wall cast a long shadow. The only natural light came from the crescent moon, which shone down on the street behind them. Every other glow came from the flaming baskets lining either side of their path. “The wall looks different,” Spike said, his arms aching from carrying the heavy chamber pot. It had already been a long day. When he finally got his head down, he’d sleep like the dead. “It’s like I’m seeing it for the first and the last time. The next time we come back here, so much will have changed.”

 

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