by Jule Owen
Mathew follows Elia and the doctor through the old house. Pictures in frames line the wall by the staircase. At the top of the stairs the landing separates. Elia leads them through to the back of the house, to a small box room. Isaac is lying under a duvet on a single bed pushed against a wall. Dr Russell kneels down beside the bed and takes his hand. She says, “Isaac? Isaac, are you awake?”
The boy moves. Dr Russell turns her head over her shoulder and says to Mathew and Elia, “The sedative I gave him was strong. I’m going to take a look at his eye to see how it looks this morning.” She removes the dressing. Mathew stares, unable to look away. There is a red bloody hole where Isaac's eye should be. The doctor works quickly, cleaning the wound and redressing it. Mathew watches. Isaac suddenly cries out and hits out at the doctor. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” she says. She holds onto his wrists tightly. “Isaac. Isaac,” she says. “You are safe. I am a doctor. Mathew is here. Mathew, say something.”
Mathew steps forwards. He hesitates and then speaks. “I am here, Isaac. It’s as Dr Russell says. We are safe now. We are in that house, the one we walked to last night, remember? It was raining. We were in the porch. Then I think you passed out.”
Isaac says, “I thought it might be a dream.”
“It wasn’t a dream,” Mathew says. “I’m sorry.”
“I can’t see anything. Am I blind?”
Mathew catches Dr Russell’s glance as she says, “In one eye, yes. We’ll have to see about the other one. But there are doctors who can help you with your blind eye. There is medicine now that can fix it. You need to go to a hospital.”
“Why aren’t I in a hospital now?”
“Because this was the nearest house Mathew could find last night.”
“My parents are dead,” Isaac says, wonderingly. It doesn’t seem real to him yet.
“I know. I’m sorry.” She hovers for a moment, looking at Isaac, and then steps back, putting things into her bag. “I have to go to see another patient. I will be back as soon as I can, to see you. Elia, could you get Isaac something to drink and eat now he is awake? Mathew, would you sit with him a while?”
Mathew nods.
The doctor says to Elia, “I’ve got to see Jim, Carl and Rena. I’ll swing by here when I’ve finished.”
Elia and Dr Russell leave the room, pulling the door closed behind them.
“Are you still there?” Isaac asks.
“Yes I am.”
“Where are we?”
“A house in a village called Amach,” Mathew had found this out from Elia, “just off the motorway. The house is owned by Jack and Elia. Elia’s nice. Jack’s not pleased with me because I broke a window last night when I tried to get in.”
“You broke his window?”
“I didn’t think there was anyone here.”
“Have you called your parents?” Isaac says.
“My parents are dead,” Mathew says. “I live with my grandmother. Or I will do. I was on the way to her house when we were attacked.”
Isaac takes this in. “Both your parents are dead?”
“Yes,” Mathew says. “My dad died two years ago. My mum died last week.”
“Last week?” Isaac takes this in and then says, “What did she die of?”
“Some kind of virus. They don’t know.”
“So have you called your grandmother?”
“I can’t. The Nexus isn’t working here.”
“The Nexus always works.”
“The government’s blocking it. Don’t worry about it now. We’ll get out of here and then we can tell people what has happened and get help. Do you have any other family? Grandparents? Uncles or aunts?”
“I have two uncles; one uncle fell out with my father. He won’t want me. My mother’s brother went to America two years ago. I don’t know him. My grandparents are dead.”
“Brothers or sisters?”
“No. You?”
“I’m an only child. My parents tried but they couldn’t have any more.”
“Same with me.”
There’s a gentle knock at the door and Elia comes into the room carrying a mug and a plate of toast. She puts the mug on the bedside table next to Isaac. “I have some toast for you,” she says to Isaac. “I’m going to help you get hold of it, okay?” She guides the plate into Isaac's hands. Looking at Mathew, she says, “Can you help him with the tea?”
Mathew nods. He sits down on the bed.
“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” Elia says, pulling the door behind her as she leaves.
“You’re right. She is nice.”
“Yeah.”
“The people who did this to me weren’t.”
“No,” Mathew says thoughtfully. “What happened? Or don’t you want to talk about it?”
Isaac finishes his toast. Mathew leans across the bed and takes the plate, putting it on the bedside table. “Do you want a drink? It’s tea.”
“Yes. Please.” Mathew passes the drink to Isaac, guiding his hands around the mug.
Isaac carefully takes a sip of the drink and then says, “We were driving along. The traffic stopped. We waited for it to start again. We didn’t know what to do. Dad and Mum didn’t want to leave the taxi without completing the journey as it can double-charge you if you get in again. Eventually, a gang of boys came along with guns. They didn’t even speak to them, they just shot them through the windows of the car. They took their Lenzes from their eyes while they sat there shot. One of the boys yelled at me, told me to give him my Lenzes. I tried to get them out, but I was crying and shaking so much I couldn’t, so he dragged me from the car and pinned me to the ground to take them out himself. He got one out but my other eye kept closing. He pressed and pressed on my eye. The others were standing around laughing. Then I couldn’t see anything. They went quiet, then one of them said, “That’s gross, man.” He got off me. Another one of them said, ‘Shoot him.’ Another said, ‘Nah, he’s a boy.’ There was some shouting elsewhere. Then there was silence. They left me. I was there ages. And then you found me.”
“Where were you going, when we were attacked?” Mathew asks.
“Newcastle. My Dad got a job there. We’re from London. Dad lost his job because of the floods in London. We lost our house and lived in a camp for months. Then he got offered a proper job in the North, where we could afford a place of our own.” He falls silent for a minute, thinking about this and then asks, “Where were you going?”
“Scotland. A place called Elgol.”
“It’s a kind of alternative community. It belongs to Cadmus Silverwood.”
“I’ve heard of him. Isn’t he a politician?”
“He’s the leader of the Garden Party.”
“I don’t know anything about politics.”
“It’s the opposition party.”
“Oh. What does that mean?”
“The second biggest party in parliament.” Issac’s face is blank. Mathew says, “My grandmother’s house has a grass roof. I helped make it.”
“Doesn’t it leak?”
“No, not at all. The walls of her house are made of straw bales. She grows her own real vegetables outdoors. The community has animals, goats, cows and chickens and they drink real milk and eat real cheese and butter.”
“Sounds cool.”
“It is. You can come with me if you like.”
“Me?”
“Yes. If you want to.”
“Won’t your grandma mind?”
Mathew laughs. “No. She’d like it. The community is welcoming.”
“Isn’t Scotland a long way away? How will we get there?”
“I don’t know,” Mathew says. “But we will. I promise.”
For the first time since Mathew had met him, Isaac smiles.
9 The Sleeping Town
“Just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse,” Jack says, heaving another sandbag against the back door of the house. Mathew passes another one to Elia, who passes it to Jack. The
y are forming a line to the house from the garage, where their store of sandbags is kept.
“We won’t die of dehydration, at least,” Elia says, nodding at the water butts that sit underneath the guttering, now flushing with water.
The rain is coming heavily, steadily, straight down without a wind. Mathew peers out from underneath the hood of his waterproof coat. A large pool has already formed on the sodden lawn.
“Last one here,” Jack says.
They stop and trudge back around the front of the house, where they have already built a wall of sandbags to protect the front door. There’s a large yellow inflatable dinghy on the lawn outside.
“Help me get this down to the road will you, Mathew?” Jack says.
They drag the boat down to the edge of the lawn and then have to put it on its side to squeeze it through the gap in the hedge to get it onto the street. At the edge of Jack and Elia’s property, the road falls away at a gradient and a foot of water runs mud-brown along the road. A short bulky figure in Wellingtons and a waterproof coat comes steadfastly wading towards them, head bowed against the driving rain. The figure raises their hand. It is Doctor Russell.
Mathew and Jack get the boat into the water and tie it to a lamppost with a rope.
“I see you have transport arranged. Just as well; the river has burst its banks and the high street is flooded.”
“Thought as much,” Jack says.
“How’s the boy?”
“Still awake. Want to see him?”
“Yes. Better had.”
“I don’t want to be left alone,” Isaac says.
Elia is trying to get him to go back to his room. He has made his way down the passage, sliding his hands against the wall and falls down the two steps at the top of the landing. “You’ll hurt yourself,” Elia says, rushing towards him.
Dr Russell goes up the stairs. “Hello Isaac. Dr Russell here.”
Isaac blurts, “I don’t want to be left here. I want to come with you.”
“I told him to go back to bed,” Elia says.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” he says stubbornly.
Mathew is at the bottom of the stairs looking at them. Dr Russell sees him and says, “Can you help Isaac get dressed?” Issac is wearing a pair of Jack’s pyjamas, rolled up at the sleeves and ankles and tied at the waist.
Mathew goes into the living room, retrieves his rucksack and climbs the stairs. At the top, he says to Isaac, “Come on.” He takes his arm and leads him back to his room.
“Can I come with you?” he says.
“Yes,” Mathew says. “But you have to get dressed.”
Several minutes later, Mathew and Isaac reappear with Isaac wearing the clean clothes Mathew had taken from Isaac's suitcase in the boot of the taxi. Mathew and Dr Russell guide Isaac down the stairs and outside. Jack holds the boat as they all get in, then unties it from the lamp-post, pushes off and clambers in himself. He slides the oars out from under the seat and starts to row.
They float down the street past half-flooded, sandbagged houses. At a T-junction they turn right onto the high street. There’s an old church, shops, trees, people wading about carrying things. A woman in a canoe paddles past them. Then, where the street meets the village green and further on, where normally a visitor would find the banks of the river, there is just a flowing expanse of brown water. A little further still is the village hall. It is dry, positioned on top of a slope. There are other boats outside. Jack jumps out, steadies the boat as they get out and then pulls it out of the water with Mathew’s help. They walk to the hall together. It is a green wood-clad building on stilts with steps to an open door. Inside, there is a large gabled-roofed room with a rough wooden floor, laid out with chairs. About thirty people are already seated. They turn around in their chairs when Jack, Elia, Dr Russell, and the two boys enter. Mathew feels many eyes staring at him and Isaac. Whispers and murmurs rise around them as they take their seats. Dr Russell goes to the front of the room, where a middle-aged man and a woman stand.
The woman says, “As most of you will know, the vicar and I spent the last two days doing an inventory of all of the food left in the village. We have about three weeks before the food situation becomes dire. The flood wasn’t unexpected and we managed to move most of our supplies from the store. Cynthia went house to house yesterday afternoon telling everyone to move their food upstairs. If we go on at the current burn rate we will run out of candles and oil lamps by the end of next week. We advise people only use what they have in the evening to cook or make hot drinks and to try and navigate their houses in the dark. As you know, we are asking for donations of furniture to burn to keep the sleeping victims warm at the infirmary. Brian has the update on infrastructure.”
The man standing beside her says, “The bloody sewers flooded last night, so take care when wading through water and please, please tell your children and young people not to play in it or drink it. It’s filthy. We’re looking for volunteers to take in people whose houses have been flooded. Dr Russell will update us on health.”
The doctor says, “We currently have twenty sleepers. Last week, Kit Flemming and Will Cosgrove woke and we had no new people falling asleep. As of today the number of people who have been affected by the sleeping sickness is seventy. As always, I would advise you be careful when operating machinery or doing anything dangerous and be aware of how you feel before you undertake any tasks that could prove fatal if you fall asleep while performing them. Please pay attention to this advice even if you haven’t slept yet. Most people report feeling nauseous and dizzy before they sleep.
“Now, I also have some other news. Last night there was a raid on the motorway, we think by the Reapers. You will have seen I came in with two boys, two strangers. The Carters have kindly offered their home to them. The boys found their way to us across the fields. They managed to escape. One of the boys is seriously injured. I would like you to show kindness to them.”
A large man with curly black hair pipes up, “We have barely enough food and water for those of us who were already here.”
Dr Russell nods, “Thanks for your honesty, Phil. It’s true. We are running out of food. The government hasn’t brought aid recently. We have no reason to think they will, and we have no way of getting the word out to our friends and family elsewhere. Everyone who has tried to leave has been shot.” Dr Russell turns to Mathew and says, “Could you stand, please?” Awkwardly, Mathew gets to his feet. Dr Russell says, “We are prisoners here, yet this boy brought his sick friend here last night. They just walked in. The motorway was blocked by Reapers, the cars on it attacked, and the government patrol made themselves scarce. We all could have walked out of here last night if we had wanted to.” There are murmurs around the room. “If we can help this boy escape, he can get word out about us.”
“The patrol will never let them through,” the man with the curly hair says.
“Who knows,” Dr Russell says, “I know someone who works for the BBC. Maybe, if I can get news to them, they will report on it.”
Someone says scornfully, “The BBC won’t cover it. There’s a government blackout on us.”
Mathew says, “The Blackweb will definitely pick it up.”
“What difference will that make?” the curly-haired man says.
Dr Russell says, “The word will be out. And our friends and family can at least bring supplies. The patrol won’t stop them leaving food and water in no man’s land, surely? It’s better than carrying on as we are.”
“But how do we get the boy out?”
“We need a plan.”
In the afternoon, it is still raining. Elia takes Isaac back to the house. Mathew and Jack go on to Dr Russell’s to help her secure her house against the steadily rising waters. In the evening they make a meagre meal. Mathew’s empty stomach feels like it is eating itself, and he thinks wistfully of the abundance in the kitchen at Pickervance Road. He remembers the nuts he had pilfered from the mini bar in the ca
r and fetches his rucksack, offering to share them with Jack, Elia and Isaac. Elia says, “You should keep them for your journey. We will have nothing to offer you, and we don’t know when you will find food when you are away from the village.”
Mathew nods and tucks the nuts away in the bag once again, placing the bag on the floor between his feet.
Jack asks, “What is in that bag? I picked it up before. It’s heavy.”
Mathew stares at Jack. He doesn’t like the idea of anyone touching his rucksack.
“Alright,” Jack says, pulling a face. But he doesn’t pursue it.
They go to bed early in order to save the candles. Mathew sleeps on the couch again, warmer and dryer now the window is patched. It is odd to be without a Nexus connection. It reminds him of being in the hospital. Or in one of Mr. Lestrange’s worlds, in his dreams. He hasn’t dreamt anything so colourful since his mother died. But he has nightmares that turn out to be true when he wakes.
DAY TWENTY-SIX: Friday 17th December 2055
The next day, Isaac is stronger and insists on trying to walk about the house, using his hands to guide him. Elia goes around nervously before him, putting things out of his way that he might knock over. In the afternoon, Dr Russell comes to examine him. She removes the patch on his remaining eye, the one that was scratched. “I can see!” Isaac shouts excitedly.
DAY TWENTY-SEVEN: Saturday 18th December 2055
Low cloud covers the stars and the moon. An unmanned boat goes floating out into the darkness across the water on the fields. A quarter of mile out, after the engine cuts out, the boat rocks gently to a stop, and then bursts into flames. Within minutes the patrol comes out to investigate with their strong-beamed lights casting into the night. As it gets close, close enough for one of the patrolmen to need to shield himself from the heat, the boat explodes.
Dr Russell, who is in the centre of the village, standing alone in the clock tower holding a pair of binoculars to her eyes, says, to no one in particular, “One down.” Then she grabs the rope hanging by her head, and rings the church bell. One after the other, fires go off all around the village, with the exception of the place where Mathew and Isaac are.