Norman felt his mind grapple with the questions, but only momentarily. It was all too big, especially now. After a brief silence he said, “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Best just to do what you can with what you have.”
She was motionless for a long time, her gaze locked on the long-dead city, but when she turned back to him she had regained a trace of vim. “We’re trapped here, aren’t we?”
He nodded.
“What do you think will happen?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t think there’s any doubting why we got through London untouched. They have us all together now, in one place.”
He heard her throat crack. “Things are better, now. Not everyone is starving. Maybe…maybe it’ll all just blow over.”
He smiled despite himself and gave her arm a squeeze. “Sorry, Allie, but I don’t think so. This was never about hunger. There’s something they’re not telling us. I’m going to find out what it is, but I don’t know if I can do anything to put it right.” He paused, thinking of Alexander. “Our past isn’t all roses.”
“There’s the radio message, too. Maybe there’s someone out there who can help us.”
“Maybe.”
Allie sighed. “At least we have you,” she said. “You and Alex.”
Norman tried to keep an even expression, but couldn’t stop his shoulders slumping. “Allie…” He looked into her eyes, and felt the weight of two cities press upon his shoulders. “I’m not the man you’re looking for. I don’t think I ever was. I’m just…” His scar throbbed, but he pressed on, “I’m nobody.” He looked out across the river once more to hide his burgeoning grimace. “I can’t save you.”
They lapsed into a silence long enough for the city’s skyline to become emblazoned on his retinas. A dark presence seemed to be exuding from its murky depths, one he felt all too often now. He saw it peering around every corner, felt it pressing in from all sides.
And he suspected that Allie felt it too. They all did.
Her delicate fingers twisted into his, and her voice washed over him from lips that had grown close to his shoulder. “You are that man. I know you are.” She pressed her lips against his cheek, and whispered in his ear, “You might not believe it, but I do.”
That same eternal truth still rang out at him: I’m not Alex. But now, cutting over it, the disembodied voice of that nameless stranger spoke even louder: Tsk, tsk, Norman. Storm’s on its way, and you need to be ready.
He sighed. “Maybe I can change,” he said. “Maybe I don’t even have a choice.” He closed his hand over hers, looking out over the ruins of the Old World metropolis. Despite the warmth of her skin, a splinter in his thoughts kept him frowning. They had reached a turning point, and there was no going back. Their lives hinged on the council convening. Though it was only hours away, it might be too late. Amidst the city’s streets he sensed malevolence, and a great many eyes moving over his skin. “They’re out there, waiting. I can feel them,” he said. “Whatever happens, it’ll happen fast. We’re not out of the woods, yet. Not by a long shot.”
XXVIII
Alexander waited until the others had taken in the horrors under the tower block’s roof, and could bear no more. While he sat motionless in the gloom, he heard them traipse outside to gag and vomit, one by one. The sound of scuffling also reached his ears. A few must have fainted, and were being carried outside. Only a handful remained inside, who he glimpsed passing by at the end of the corridor, searching for survivors with rags held to their mouths.
They found no one.
Eventually, they too filed outside, cursing under their breath. So shocked did they seem that all pretence of keeping watch had been abandoned. Through the nearly opaque office window he could see them gathered on the outskirts of the rubble field, sitting atop boulders with their heads bowed, broken.
Alexander waited until all had grown utterly still and silent. Even then, it took him some time to muster the will to move. His knees felt heavier than blocks of lead, while his hands, moulded around the envelope, seemed stuck fast to its wrinkled surface.
It would have been so easy to stay like that indefinitely, devoid of thought or worry. The world seemed distant; the massacre outside could have been a mere figment of his imagination. He might not have been so very guilty—so very responsible for every single part of it.
He was finally on the verge of moving when Lucian appeared in the doorway. His cheeks were pale, and his fists bunched. Alexander’s heart sank at the sight of his distant gaze.
“Nothing,” he said. “There’s nothing. They cleaned the place out.” He glanced at the bloodied walls. “Cleaned it out, killed every last one of them, and left. And we’ve got nothing. We’re still on square one. I…” He threw his bunched fists to his temples and grunted. “I don’t know if we can ever come back from this, Alex. I don’t see an end to it.” His arms fell to his sides, and his jaw grew slack. For the briefest of moments, Alexander saw the eight-year-old boy he’d once met in a roadside warehouse. “What have we done?” he muttered.
Alexander swallowed, felt a lump of self-loathing pass along his gullet, and shook his head. “We survived, Lucian,” he said. “All we’ve ever done is survived.”
Lucian’s shoulders slumped. He lingered for a moment longer, and the light in his eye—the one that Alexander and so many others had relied on for countless years—died, perhaps for the last time. He nodded, slid from the doorway, and disappeared from sight.
Alex was left alone once more. It was only after Lucian’s footsteps had well and truly faded, and the office building was filled with the tell-tale whistle of total silence, that he brought the envelope from his lap and tore it open.
*
Lucian stumbled in darkness.
So it’s come to this, he thought. How? How has it come to this?
The others’ voices grew faint as he raced headlong into the building’s bowels, desperate for shelter, for isolation. He wouldn’t let them see what this was doing to him. They needed strength, and he was going to give it to them. But not now. He needed a minute. “Christ,” he muttered and stopped in the gloom, leaning against the wall. He breathed deep and let his head fall back, staring up at the ceiling. “Forgive us.”
A quiet snick was his only warning before a cold blade pressed against his throat. He made to struggle, but arms gripped him from behind, while the blade pressed hard enough to draw blood. Lucian stilled, gagging as an elbow wrapped around his throat. He looked over his shoulder, and was dismayed to recognise his assailant. “We let you go,” he choked.
Charlie’s face was murder. He still stank like a sewer, and was dressed in the very same rags as when they had last met. But there was something changed in him. The child was gone. It was written in his eyes. “Let me go?” he breathed. “Letting me go would have been letting me die in that sewer. What you did was worse. You took away the only thing in the world I had left and dropped me back in the world like an animal.”
He brought the blade up to Lucian’s eye. “My father deserves justice.”
“We didn’t know, Charlie,” Lucian said. “I’m sorry, but I did what had to be done.”
“Shh, quiet! I’ve got plans for you, but if they hear us, I have no problem ending this right here, right now.” The knife grew closer, a mere centimetre from Lucian’s cornea. But it wasn’t the blade he was afraid of. What really scared him was how frightened the kid sounded beneath that angry scowl. In the corner of his eye he could see Charlie’s face, and wasn’t comforted to see tears in his eyes.
“You’re a good kid,” he said. “Think about this.”
“Oh, I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought of nothing else,” Charlie spat. He wrestled Lucian’s arm back until it felt like it might snap, and clamped a cloth over his mouth. “I won’t be denied what I deserve.” An ugly sneer crossed his quivering lips. “Let’s see how the wise and powerful messiah fares without his dog to do his dirty work!”
Lucian did something of which
he would have thought himself incapable. It was only the thought of Alexander that spurred him on. He begged, not with his stifled mouth, but with his eyes.
Charlie’s face filled with glee. “That’s right. You’re mine. Blood is coming, and there’s nowhere to hide. For them, anyway…It’s time they faced the music.” His eyes darkened, and he hauled Lucian back into shadow, lips pressed against the flesh of his ear. “But not for you. You’re coming with me.”
*
The crumpled note tumbled onto the desk, landing amidst the dust. Alex didn’t need to touch it, for it had landed right side up, and the flowing hand was cast into sharp relief by the torch-beam. He read it without moving an inch. All the while, boiling agony festered in his gut, stemming from long-repressed memories—memories of hope, of dreams, and of emerald eyes:
Know this, brother: if there had ever been a time in which you could have saved them, could have ever truly saved anyone, it was the last time you looked into my eyes—when you chose your dream over your family.
Destiny calls, Alex. I’ll be seeing you, soon.
— J
Coming Soon
BRINK
Part 2 of the epic Ruin Saga…
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A Pendulum Universe Book
Something has gone wrong. A pendulum’s swing is dying. If it stops, everything stops. The fabric of all existence is in danger. Shadows are moving, long-sealed doors have fallen ajar, and the balance of an infinitude of worlds has shifted.
On one world, something has gone very wrong, indeed: the End. Six billion people have vanished, leaving a barren Earth populated with scattered survivors. While man struggles with mere survival and the eternal plagues of betrayal and retribution lay waste to already crumbling cities, a much greater mission begins.
So opens a universe that stretches far beyond Earth, across deserts and tundra, kingdoms of past and future, and ancient forgotten worlds between the cracks. If there is any hope, it lies in a precious handful, creatures of destiny scattered across all of reality. The success or failure of their gathering will decide the fate of countless lives.
Bringing them together will cause destruction, pain and death. Some will run, some will fight, and some will turn to darkness.
Only one thing is certain: the End was just the beginning.
Ruin
by Harry Manners
First published 2014 by Radden Press.
All characters in this novel are entirely fictitious, as are the events portrayed. Any resemblance to persons living, dead or imaginary is coincidental.
All rights reserved. This ebook is for personal use only; whilst the author’s works are published DRM-free, it is hoped that readers will purchase their own copies, and will not resort to unlicensed usage. Sharing books without purchasing may deprive the author of owed royalties.
Copyright © Harry Manners 2014.
Cover design by Levente Szabo.
Edited by Claire Rushbrook.
Formatting by Polgarus Studio.
Lyrics from ‘The Star’ by Jane and Ann Taylor, first published in Rhymes for the Nursery (1806), are quoted in the text.
Acknowledgements
My eternal thanks go to my family and friends for their support, understanding and tolerance during the four years that this project has been in the works—during which I muttered and scribbled in the corner. Without them, this novel would never have made it out into the world.
My cover designer, Levente Szabo, produced some beautiful work, and has my thanks for being so accommodating throughout the design process.
My editor, Claire Rushbrook, made every difference in catching my varied blunders, and cleaning up after my bad habits. Proofreaders Claudette Cruz and Anne Victory also did a stellar job.
Special thanks to Auriane Desombre, Nick Tajudeen, Ventura Dennis, Mary Moore, Heather Bryant and Bob Ferguson for all their contributions.
About the Author
Harry Manners lives in Bedfordshire, England with his family. When he’s not writing, he studies Physics at the University of Warwick, reads a ton-load of books, and generally nerds out—for which he is staunchly unapologetic.
Website: www.harrymanners.net
Facebook page: www.facebook.com/OfficialHarryManners
Twitter: @harry_a_manners
Blog: www.harrymanners.wordpress.com.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Author’s Note
1 THE END I
FIRST INTERLUDE
II
III
IV
SECOND INTERLUDE
V
VI
VII
VIII
THIRD INTERLUDE
IX
X
XI
XII
XIII
FOURTH INTERLUDE
XIV
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
FIFTH INTERLUDE
2 DESTINY CALLS I
II
III
IV
V
FIRST INTERLUDE
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI
XII
XIII
SECOND INTERLUDE
XIV
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
XIX
XX
XXI
XXII
THIRD INTERLUDE
XXIII
XXIV
FOURTH INTERLUDE
XXV
XXVI
XXVII
XXIX
XXVIII
Coming Soon
Thanks for reading
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A pendulum universe book
Copyright
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Ruin (The Ruin Saga Book 1) Page 39