by Taylor Leigh
But, of course, that had to be nothing but her imagination.
She cast a furtive glance around at the other people walking past, to see if she was attracting any attention. A woman walked by without a glance, talking on her handheld. Sam sighed and leant up against the fence and watched a crumpled newspaper skitter by in the hot wind. She detachedly read the title proclaiming: “Mysterious Palace Break-in! Crown Jewels Stolen!”
There was no sign of the stranger—not that she’d expected to see him. Yet, some feeling nagged at her, anchored her to the spot where he’d been, not so long before. He’d spoken of hidden things, strange things. And something had brought him here. Perhaps it was all talk and her imagination, but she was on a new world. That was opportunity enough for strange things as far as she was concerned.
Sam gazed through the bars. The back of her neck prickled uncomfortably. She’d had this feeling once before, long ago, when she’d stood at the edge of a graveyard on a bet. It had been just this time of evening, too. That same creeping sense of something just beyond, looking back, unfriendly.
Was it simply her imagination? How could it be anything else? What else would be there to set her skin crawling as it did now? There was nothing there. Nothing but torn-up dirt, silent machines and dark windows. Yet the feeling remained. Hiding, just out of reach of her consciousness. Watching.
Or perhaps, had he simply been resting at this spot on the pavement? Had it been nothing but chance that he’d been here? Simply random that they’d both looked up just at the right time? Had he even been there at all? She was beginning to doubt herself. She couldn’t trust her senses at the moment, or her mind. This new world was screwing with her head.
Sam reluctantly let herself turn away, but at that moment she heard a noise that sent a slicing fear down her spine. It was a sob. A woman—or perhaps a girl—was sobbing hysterically. It wasn’t sad sobs either; it was terrified, miserable sobs. Sam cast about for whoever was responsible for the crying but saw no-one. Stranger still, the noise didn’t seem to be coming from any true source. It simply hung in the air, disembodied, haunting.
‘Hello!’ she called out, licking her now dry lips, pulse quickening. ‘Anyone there?’ No answer. ‘Is someone hurt?’ Her eyes raked the construction zone just beyond the bars, for now that seemed to be perhaps where the horrible weeping was emanating from.
Sam had never been in a position such as this before, and was not exactly sure what to do. She wasn’t even sure what the emergency service numbers were on this planet. Still, she’d never been one to stand back. If someone was in trouble, she’d do what she could.
The sobbing stuttered to a stop. Then, drifting from nowhere Sam could see, the disembodied voice rose up to her. ‘Hello? Is someone there? Please! You have to help me!’
The female voice was absolutely hysterical.
Sam leaned against the bars, frustrated, and peered through. ‘Where are you?’ She glanced to a woman who walked by, wondering if she’d heard it. Wondering if she’d help. The woman continued on her way. Was it just in her head? Sam had to pause and wonder if she was indeed losing her mind.
‘Hidden! As I must be! He’s looking for me! Oh, please, girl, don’t let him find me!’ She was frantic now. ‘If he finds me then he’ll kill me!’ More sobs.
Sam felt a horrible chill run through her; someone might have just poured ice-water down her back. She was aware of her breathing coming quicker. A killer? How was it possible this was happening her first day on Scrabia? It had to be some sort of prank. She couldn’t even make sense of where the voice was coming from—which was even more disconcerting.
‘Who’s trying to kill you? Look, do you want me to notify the authorities? Tell me where you are!’ She pulled out her handheld.
The girl’s voice trembled in terror. ‘T—t—the Traveller wants to find me,’ she croaked. ‘He’s horrible and cruel and will kill me if he gets the chance. You must keep clear of him! Calling the authorities will do no good. They cannot help us. We need you, girl!’
The Traveller? Who the hell was that? Some sick serial killer? Sam bit her bottom lip in indecision. ‘Well tell me where you are so that I can help!’
The girl’s voice trembled, fainter and fading fast. ‘Buried…’ It drifted off in a quiet sob and was gone.
Before Sam really knew what she was doing, her fingers had curled round the gate’s latch. The metal was cool and rough underneath her skin and grasping at it made her urge to get inside all the greater. Someone was in there, somewhere, perhaps the basement, hurt, terrified and she was the only one who seemed to know. She pulled down on the latch and, not surprisingly, nothing happened. She rattled the handle a few times and groaned miserably, only then noticing the thick loops of chains securing it in place.
She mulled over her options. They weren’t many. The fence was tall and Sam wasn’t sure she’d be able to get over it on her own. And it wasn’t as if she could just turn round and ask someone to help her. They’d think she was mental, or up to no good, or both.
Sam rested her head on the bars and stared through. A gentle breeze swayed the few remaining shroom trees, causing them to silently scrape against each other, dusting down spores.
She gazed at the windows and searched the blackness. All was deathly still, but Sam felt the hairs on the back of her neck begin to tingle. She’d been right. Something was definitely off. There was a reason for pausing here, a reason for watching, just as he’d done. He’d known something was off, too. Perhaps he knew more than that, for he’d stopped here on purpose, she was sure of it. His words from the shuttle drifted back to her. ‘Oh, I’m a traveller of sorts…’
A new fear began to snake through her. She shook her head. No, he couldn’t possibly be who the girl was talking about. A stubborn doubt fought against that idea. She didn’t want it to be true. Completely idiotic. All of it. Yet it made disturbing sense. That poor girl was hiding from a man. A traveller. He’d stopped here to look. He’d not given his name. Oh, gods.
‘Look,’ Sam called out to the still, hot air. ‘I’ll be back! I’ll help you! Okay?’
Silence.
Another thought breathed life in her mind. What if she wasn’t talking to the living? What if the voice was…a ghost? Horrible images flashed through her brain and she shook her head wildly to be rid of them.
‘You know, I can see you’re new and all, but you should probably know that talking out loud to no-one probably isn’t socially accepted on this planet any more than yours,’ a new voice said out of nowhere. Sam let out a small cry and staggered, whirling round.
A small girl with short brown hair and freckles was standing about a metre away from her. Stunning green eyes were hidden under thin, arched brows. Her arms were crossed and she had an amused expression on her face.
Sam immediately was embarrassed and temporarily forgot about her disembodied voice. She groped for words, wondering if she should explain, or if she’d sound insane if she did. Best to play it safe, she thought.
‘Sorry, I thought I lost something, was just trying to think out-loud.’
The girl pulled her lips down in a frown. ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ She didn’t look too concerned and her tone conveyed it. ‘Need any help looking?’
Sam bit her lip. ‘Uh, no, no! I mean, I found it, but thanks, really.’
The girl raised her eyebrows and stared a moment.
Sam stabbed her hand out at the girl. ‘I’m Samantha. Turner. Or Sam. Prefer that, really.’ She mentally winced, all-too aware she was babbling.
The brown-haired girl took her hand in a slow shake. ‘I’m Emnela Escot. But, please call me Nelly. Everyone does and I’m pretty glad about that.’
Sam smiled. ‘Glad to finally meet a Scrabian my age.’ She was feeling more awkward by the moment.
‘Mmm,’ Silence for a moment. A dog barked somewhere in the distance. ‘So, you’re from Scottorr.’
‘Yeah, that obvious, huh?’ Sam pushed her blonde hair behind her ear.
‘Pretty,’ Nelly shrugged. ‘Your clothing stands out. That and your handshake. You’re gonna want to get out of that habit real quick. Down here we just touch palms, unless you’re friends, then you touch shoulders.’
Sam nodded. ‘Right, I’ll remember that. I should have brushed up better on your customs. It’s just been a wild week.’
‘Rather hard to offend Scrabians. We’ve got thick skin,’ Nelly shrugged again. ‘You just don’t want to stand out as the Scottorrian in the room.’
Sam scowled despite herself. ‘So I’ve heard. Is the prejudice really as bad as the rumours?’
Nelly shrugged. ‘Oh, it’s all right, but you’re gonna be treated different, I can guarantee that. Most folks will treat you like you’re dumber than they are. They’ve all been brought up that way.’
Discouraging to hear, Sam thought. ‘Well, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you taking pity on me?’
Nelly laughed. ‘I have family on Scottorr. My mum is from there, so we travel up every two years to see her side of the family. I’ve stayed at a boarding school there for a few terms, too. I’m one of the few lucky ones who’s accepted on both worlds.’
‘You don’t have much of a distinctive accent, either way. I’d imagine that helps.’
Nelly smiled and shrugged. ‘I can switch back and forth. Another good trick, if you can manage. Guess it’s a good thing I found you. You’re gonna need me to take care of you. Luckily, I have my cousins on Scottorr, they help me out. I know what it’s like to be alone on a different world. I can help you out here if you want. Make sure you don’t make a fool of yourself.’
Sam felt her lips pull up slightly. ‘You might have just saved my life, Nelly. I’m afraid I’m a bit lost besides knowing what the travel guides and infosearches say.’
‘You can never believe those things. School can be well harsh if you don’t know how to stand up for yourself, or have someone beside you, so don’t worry, I’ll be here for you.’ Nelly started walking again.
Sam hurried after the girl, trying to wipe a grin off of her face. She had actually met someone from Scottorr! What luck!
‘You want a tour of the town?’ Nelly asked.
‘Yeah, that would be great. By the way, Nelly?’ Sam asked slowly.
‘Hmm?’ Nelly looked over her shoulder as she walked along the pavement in confidence.
‘Have you ever heard of someone called the Traveller?’
Nelly stopped for a minute and frowned. ‘The Traveller? Can’t say that I have, why?’
Sam shook her head, she wasn’t surprised. It had been a long shot, if it had been anything. ‘Never mind…it’s nothing.’
Chapter Three
Sam stayed out later than she had meant to with Nelly. When she finally made her way on foot back towards her neighbourhood, she was exhausted. Her father had ordered takeaway—Scrabian food, unfortunately—and they both went to bed without much talk.
She couldn’t fight the growing obsession in her over what had happened since she’d left her planet. It was all-too much for one day. Not to mention, her nerves about starting school kept her awake and she tossed and turned endlessly in her unfamiliar room. Her dreams were haunted by strange visions and faces and when she finally awoke, she felt all the more worn. Exhausted, yes, that was the word.
She at last dragged herself downstairs, but was disappointed to see her father had already left for the morning. Left behind was a small note wishing her luck and a sheepish apology, explaining his need to get to report in early.
Sam left the house early herself with the sole intention of walking past the future offices again. The house was same as it had last night: still and imposing. Sam didn’t know what she had expected to see. Perhaps someone lurking in the shadows. Perhaps a crime team digging up bodies in the yard. There was nothing except Hamill’s construction crew getting underway for another day’s work.
She lost track of the time as she watched and listened, waiting to hear if the voice would contact her. She didn’t. What finally jerked Sam free was the alarm on her timepiece, warning her she had five minutes to get to school. With a swear, Sam broke into a run away from the house, flying down the road to a school she didn’t know.
Classes were a confusing blur, and soon, Sam found herself following Nelly across the lunch room towards a stone table where several people were already sitting. She was self-conscious, feeling the eyes of the other students watching her. She felt like she’d fallen into a shark tank. It was hostile and waiting.
She had been in classes for four hours already and Sam had to tell herself not to look at the timepiece on the wall again, which would only tell her she still had four more hours to go.
The school’s oppressive regulation of the day had momentarily been interrupted now that all the students were at lunch. So far, it appeared the only place where the students could get away with any interaction was the dining hall. The atmosphere had shifted from one of burdened silence to explosive noise.
Nelly plunked her tray of food down across from a dark boy who was completely distracted with his handheld. He raised his eyebrows in what might have been a hello, but gave no acknowledgment.
‘Terrance, you’ve got company, don’t be rude,’ Nelly said, reaching across to shove him in the shoulder.
Terrance slowly tore his gaze away from whatever he was doing on the device. ‘I heard you assigned yourself to the new girl.’
‘Her name is Samantha, and yes, I seem to be only of the only people in this rock pit that cares enough.’
Terrance shrugged. ‘We’re all just trying to get through the day here. Don’t make it harder on yourself.’ He turned his eyes to Sam. ‘The name’s Terr, by the way.’ He held out his hand across the table and Sam remembered to touch palms at the last moment. She was offended, but at least he was speaking to her. That was more than most.
‘Charmed,’ she said drily.
Terrance smiled. ‘You’ll get over the shock of the incivility of us soon enough. We like to be left alone.’
‘Well, believe me, I would much rather be back home, too.’
Terrance forced his attention away from the device he was playing with long enough to take a bite of the food on his tray. It was a bland, colourless meal, none-too appetising. Sam would have preferred to bring her own, but there had been no time for shopping in the craze of unpacking.
‘I take it your parents forced you here, then?’ Terrance asked.
Nelly nodded, picking at her food. ‘Her father works for one of the big water companies. She lives in Bone Ridge Estate.’
Terrance looked at Sam, vaguely interested. ‘Rough side of town. You don’t look the type.’
Sam crossed her arms over her chest. ‘And just what is the “type”?’
‘Someone like you, dressed like that, flaunting your rich Scottorrian style, belongs further up in the city than Bone Ridge.’
Sam bristled. She hadn’t wanted a fight, but being judged for what she wore was going too far. ‘So I can’t be your certain type if I take care of my appearance, is that it?’
‘To the people around here, yeah. Being from Scottorr automatically makes you rich. That place you’re staying in probably seems like a slum to you, bet the place you lived in back on the Green World, was a bloody mansion compared to it.’
Sam worked her jaw. It was true, there was a clear difference between the two worlds, but Sam didn’t see how that made her rich. If anything, she considered her situation had taken a turn for the worse. ‘Back home I lived in a tiny flat, stacked among about a hundred other flats, noisy neighbours on all sides and trains running beneath my feet all hours of the day. Got a proper house here on Scrabia and it feels too big. If anything it’s better than what I’m used to.’ She decided not to mention she’d take her small flat back home any day over what she was living in now.
She glanced over at Nelly for support. Nelly took the hint.
‘Oh, Terr, do leave her alone. Doesn’t matter where
she lived, or is living. Why can’t you just leave things be?’
Terrance pointed his fork at Nelly, which was still loaded with some spongy, dark green plant. ‘Look, Nel, it does matter here on Scrabia. I have to make sure I know what I’m getting into if you’re bringing her into my circle. I can’t be hanging about with some spoilt Scottorrian toff.’
Sam fumed and stood to her feet. ‘Well, I think I’ve heard quite enough. I wouldn’t want to be an embarrassment to you.’
Terrance groaned. ‘No, no, sit down, you’re making people stare. No-one is going to accept you if you act out like that.’
‘Well you’re making it difficult to behave when you talk that way!’ Sam snapped.
‘Sorry, okay? All I mean is, most of my friends are a bit…well, not as well off as you, and if I was seen just hanging around you, they might not take too kindly too it. In case you hadn’t noticed, Scrabia’s economy took a bloody bad hit this year. People from Scottorr look like royalty now. We can’t help our hard feelings.’
Sam pressed her lips into a hard line. ‘Yeah, I know. The economy is what forced me here in the first place.’ She glanced round the room. ‘If they’re your friends, why aren’t they sitting with you?’
Terr made a face. ‘Different class times.’
‘In detention is what he means to say,’ Nelly said irritably. ‘They miss lunch almost every day.’
‘Oh.’ Not much more to say about that, Sam decided. An awkward silence followed and she tried, unsuccessfully, to make a dent in her food.
Her first day in the Scrabian school was one of the longest she’d ever had. She had never met such strict professors and encountered such ridged rules. Students were clamped down on for the slightest infractions and punishments were given freely.
Sam had trusted that since she was new she would be treated with more understanding, but that had not been the case. At all. Most teachers seemed just as prejudice towards Scottorr as the students and singled Sam out as an example whenever the subject of her planet came up. The propaganda they taught Sam would almost have put on the same line as brainwashing, and she wondered vaguely just how much the students actually learned.