by Emma Pullar
‘I can’t do this, Kian.’I gently give him back his arms, like I am giving back a borrowed touchpad.
‘Why?’ he says. His eyes sting with hurt. They threaten to rip out my heart. I rub my arm, the guilt all-consuming.
‘You’re like a brother to me,’ I say.
‘Really?’ he says, aghast. ‘See, I have three brothers and I don’t kiss them, and definitely not like that!’
‘Why are you being like this?’
‘Like what? You’re a fine one to talk. You’re screwed up. Kiss me and then back off. Don’t want to be a host, running from your responsibilities. You do my head in.’
I stare at the ground. When I first told Kian that I didn’t want to do Showcase, that I would run away into the desert and never come back, he made me promise to never go near the wall. He said going into the desert was a death sentence and begged me to stay, told me I might like being a host and to give it some thought. I said I would think about it. I didn’t. My mind was made up. Subconsciously, I was never going to be a host. I will not conform. Anger spikes in my throat. I clench my jaw.
‘And what do you suggest I do?’ I ask him. ‘Go back and enjoy being impregnated with some Morb bitch’s baby? Do you know what they do to hosts? Do you know about the examinations?’
‘It’s gotta be better than being on the run,’ he says. ‘You act like you’d rather starve.’
‘Is that all life is about for you?’ I say, blood thumping in my ears. ‘Surviving? Doesn’t matter how you live, just make sure you survive, right? Well guess what, Crow? The goal of life is death! But I guess you wouldn’t know that, since you were the only one left.’
‘Don’t call me that!’ he snaps back. His pet bird glides down to his defence, lands on his shoulder and squawks at me. I glare at the bird. He can snap his beak at me all he likes. I’m not afraid, much.
‘Why? That’s what everyone calls you!’ I shout. ‘That’s what you are! Look at them, at your beck and call!’
I point at the crow on his shoulder then at the tree behind us where at least twenty crows fidget, waiting for a command from Kian. I’m annoyed at him for not wanting to change things, for not using his strange influence over the birds. I can’t stop myself from raging at him.
‘You survived and yet you’ve done nothing to help our people, avenge those who were killed, to build a better life for the rest of us!’
‘You’re so self-righteous!’ He shouts. The crow caws and adjusts itself on Kian’s shoulder so as not to fall. ‘You think you have all the fucking answers! Are you saying I should kill all the birds in the city? Or maybe I should train them to attack Morbs and Central? These people don’t go outside, Sky! What can I do?’
‘You could do something, anything! But you don’t!’ I yell, fury flushing my cheeks. ‘You didn’t come here because of the anniversary; you came because you have orders to capture me and Bunce!’
Kian’s eyes sharpen.
‘You really know how to stick it in and break it off! Is that how little you think of me? That I would allow you to escape only to take you back hours later? Risk everything to get a reward, a pat on the back, is that it? You think accolades are important to me!’
I realise my mistake but it’s too late, the damage is done. I try to grab his hand.
‘Kian …’
‘Don’t!’ he says, backing away.
‘Kian, please!’ I beg.
The crows flap from tree to tree following their master as he disappears into the night. He doesn’t look back; his words throw the hurt back at me.
‘You’ve changed,’ he says, a bitterness in his voice I’ve never heard before. ‘That Morb boy has changed you. I hope you’ll be very happy together.’
‘What are you talking about?’ I shout.
‘Good luck with your new life.’
‘Kian, wait!’
He doesn’t wait, he walks into the night, disappearing from sight, and from my life.
13
Tess
I find Clover and Bunce outside Clover’s hut, playing a game of cards with Tess. Bunce sits uncomfortably on the edge of his chair. I’m not sure what’s bothering him the most; the dirty chair and flop table; the ugly shacks and the filthy, makeshift streets; or the company he’s keeping. It’s probably a mixture of all those things. At least he’s still in one piece. I guess that’s because he’s with Clover, no one would dare question his presence in front of a Slum Lord.
The Eremite welcome me and a handful of others, but not all Skels would have the same warm reception if they wandered into the slums. Eremite barter with Skels at the market but that’s where the pleasantries stop. Inviting such city puppets and sinners against nature into their homes would be another matter.
Skels are a close-knit community. They look after their own first. They’d never watch a child starve, any child, even an outsider, but they won’t reach out either. Don’t let everyone in, there won’t be enough food, we might starve. Better them than us. That’s how Skels think. Eremites are different.
They work under the guidance of Slum Lords. There are four – three, now Tinny is dead. Each protect their corner of the slum, or they’re meant to, some abuse their power; they rape girls and steal food from the weak. Clover is Tess’s lord and I’m thankful for that. He treats his people well, but he’s not always around to make sure they don’t go hungry. That’s why I look out for Tess, as Kian used to look out for me. I touch my lips. Kian kissed me. My mind gives me pictures of Kian’s face, lips, and the intense feeling of his strong body pressed to mine.
‘Everything alright, Skyla?’ asks Clover, his face mirroring my bafflement.
‘Everything’s fine,’ I say, ducking behind Tess to check her cards. I whisper the winning hand in her ear. She smiles, hazel eyes lighting up the freckles on her nose. She lays her cards down on the dirty, plastic table.
‘Read ‘em and weep!’ she says, scraping her winnings towards her, which consist of a Central bag charm, obviously Bunce’s, one of her hair clips, and a red cactus fruit – Clover’s bet. I hug Tess’s shoulders and she wraps her thin arms around my neck, she’s in her night clothes.
‘Does your mother know you’re out of bed?’
‘Not exactly,’ she says, frowning.
‘Come here,’ I say, turning Tess sideways. ‘Right side again, huh?’
An ‘I’m loved’ smile spreads across my young friend’s face.
‘I don’t know how it happens,’ she says, bashful.
I re-braid her hair and turn her round to face me, holding her plaits out either side of her head.
‘Getting long. Soon we’ll be able to use them as jump ropes!’
I spin the long copper plaits and Tess giggles. Clover smiles at us.
‘Your mother will start to worry, young Tess,’ he says warmly. ‘Hurry back now.’
Tess gathers her prizes and bobs out from behind the table.
‘Will you take me back? I’m scared,’ she whispers.
‘Of what?’
‘Please! I’ll tell you when we get there.’ Her eyes dart to Clover.
‘I’m gonna walk Tess home.’ I say causally, ‘Back soon.’
Bunce exhales and nods nervously.
‘Just me and you this round then, Bunce!’ Clover booms and deals the cards at speed.
Tess scurries off. I follow her round a plastic corner and straight into a huddle of Eremites; plastic hats on their heads, crow feather earrings, one wearing a spoon necklace. Their cold stares startle me, the place has been deserted until now. Their suspicious eyes follow me; sunken, bloodshot, the harsh floodlights must be keeping them up. I hurry after Tess; she’s quick and nimble, swiftly weaving between people and ducking under their arms. I struggle to keep up. I don’t look directly at faces as I excuse my way through the whispering slum dwellers. They talk in close quarters, glancing up every so often, eyes shifty. Up ahead, I catch sight of Tess’s long plaits as she disappears into a shack with toilet seats for windo
ws. The makeshift homes around me are made out of tubs, circuit boards, cables, doors, broken glass and all manner of refuse; the shack opposite Tess’s has a tall pipe sticking out of the top, billowing with smoke like an oversized glory stick.
When I duck into the interlocking plastic junk house, the first thing I notice is Tess’s mother’s porcelain bed. It’s a bathtub. There’s a discoloured beanbag devoid of most of its beans next to it, I guess that is where Tess sleeps. All these years I’ve been visiting her, bringing her food, and I have never been inside Tess’s home, I’ve never met her mother and now I have, I wish I hadn’t. I peer into the tub. The woman inside is nothing more than skin pulled over bones. There’s a strange beauty in her sickness, a peacefulness that she will die soon, on not quite her own terms but not on Central’s terms either. She looks as if she is already in the afterlife, but then the hazel eyes, which have sunk deep into her skull, shift to look at me. She recognises me. Although we haven’t met before, we know each other, and I understand the stare. I’m Tess’s guardian. I nod. She blinks in thanks and closes her eyes.
Tess leaps into my arms, like she always does when I’m not expecting it. I stagger and hug the tiny bag of bones whose mother is dying, with no one to protect her … tears threaten. She is younger than I was when I lost my only living guardian. I don’t want to see her dragged out of the slums and put to work, but I don’t want to see her stay and starve to death, either. She strokes a strand of my damp hair behind my ear with her delicate fingers.
‘Are you staying with me this time?’
I cradle the back of her head and hold her close so she won’t see my sorrow.
‘Not this time, sweetheart,’ I say, a lump in my throat. I wish I could stay.
‘A Mutil was here,’ Tess says softly into my cheek.
My body stiffens, like a poisonous caterpillar is inching up my spine.
‘When?’ I ask calmly.
‘A few days ago, before they switched on the ring,’ Tess whispers, her hot breath tickling my ear. ‘I heard its cry. It woke me up.’
‘What happened to it?’ I ask Tess. ‘Did one of the lords get rid of it?’
‘I don’t know but I’m scared more will …’
‘They won’t.’
‘But what if …’
‘Tess. I’ll always be here when you need me.’ I say, holding her a little tighter. ‘I won’t let the monsters get you, okay?’
Tess nods and her chin bumps against my shoulder. I hate lying to her. I can no more protect Tess from Mutil than I can protect myself, but I want her to feel safe. It’s no good telling a child that there’s a very good chance the monster will come back and rip her to shreds. She’d never sleep again. I wonder how it got in, and why would a Mutil risk being killed by Eremites? If they work out there’s strength in numbers, the Eremites will be in real trouble when Central switch off the VR.
Mutil never hunt in packs, I tell myself, but anything’s possible. Tess could have been woken by the Mutil calling for others, waiting for the signal to ambush the slum dwellers. It would be a bloodbath and I’m not sure the Eremites would come off better.
I lower the starved ten-year-old girl down onto her beanbag, where she curls up. A torn, threadbare nightgown hangs off her body like an old pillowcase, it might actually be an old pillowcase. She’s small for ten, her frame suggesting she’s only been alive for seven years or less. I tug the rag that is her blanket around her, kiss her forehead, and slip out onto the makeshift streets. Perhaps Tinny was out checking for Mutil when he came across me and Bunce.
In a daze, I shoulder my way through the huddled residents, they’re clearly rattled by the Mutil intrusion. I knock into people and they protest, I ignore them and turn the corner. I wonder if I should ask Clover about Cara? Central will know by now that we’re missing and soon we’ll have to deal with guards on top of everything else. I’m certain Kian wasn’t sent to capture us, he probably thought he could persuade me to hand myself in, or at least abandon my plan to find the cure. He failed on both counts.
‘We’d better leave,’ I say to Bunce as I reach the table. ‘Daylight is coming and it is not our friend.’
‘Daylight might not be your friend, Sky,’ says Clover, pushing his chair out from the table. ‘However, you have a good friend in Bunce, here.’
Bunce smiles at me and I catch it, smiling back. I send it on to the Slum Lord.
‘As are you, Clover,’ I say warmly. ‘The shade protecting me from the sun.’
‘Dear child, you honour me with your words,’ Clover replies, glancing back at Bunce. ‘The sun’s not something you see much of, eh? I’m sure there are many hosts who would love to know your skin whitening secret. What are you doing? Injecting yourself with white paint? You’re as pale as a Morb!’
The Slum Lord laughs heartily and Bunce adds a weak ‘ha ha’. Clover doesn’t notice the alarm in the young Morb’s face.
‘Now, what’s all this about a serum?’
‘What?’ I say, startled.
‘Bunce tells me there’s a rumour around The Hub that someone has created a cure for the Morbihan condition.’
I glare at Bunce, who is smiling and wincing at the same time, as if he’s going to be hit on the head with something. My fist, if he isn’t careful! Clover looks up at me, floodlights illuminating his strong bone structure, his face glowing, blessed from above. When I don’t answer right away, his smile fades. I’m going to have to offer some sort of explanation.
‘We met at Showcase. I was standing next to his family. There was some sort of technical delay and we got talking, joking really, about how weird it would be if the Morbihan stopped piling on the pounds.’
Why did I do that? Why didn’t I tell Clover the truth? He raises an eyebrow.
‘When I helped him out of the bathing block, he mentioned he saw a news report about a serum, didn’t you, Bunce?’
Bunce nods vigorously.
‘A-and I said we should ask Tinny what he knew about it. I thought it might be valuable. If I could get some of this serum, it might help with Tess, you know, I could trade it for more food, or something.’
More lies. Can he sense it?
‘Yes, I believe such a thing would be valuable,’ Clover says, eyeballing me suspiciously. ‘But I doubt you will find what you seek in the slums. Tinny was a gossip, nothing more.’
Bunce’s eyes dart over to me.
‘It’s just a rumour. It probably doesn’t even exist. I should be getting back,’ he says.
‘You’re probably right, young Bunce. Skyla often gets carried away, she’s a dreamer.’ The muscular mountain of a man winks at me, then stands. Bunce also gets to his feet. ‘Allow me to escort you both safely back to the other side of the Vector Ring. Our community is a little jumpy at the moment. What with Central using the lights and the ring. They’re worried about being spied on and strangers won’t be tolerated.’
‘Thank you, Clover,’ I say.
Bunce nods politely and shoulders on his backpack. I pull my hair back into a ponytail and follow behind. We reach the bent palm tree and quickly scurry through the short tunnel. Once back on the other side, Clover turns to me and bows his head. Pain slams into the side of my face, I hold on to it. Did Clover and I butt heads? My temples pound, lids heavy, I allow my eyes to close. I force them open again, vision blurry, I can just make out Clover; his robes whirl around him as he searches for the attackers. Bunce’s big eyes flash with fear as bodies close in around him. Tan uniform. Guards! No! No! My eyes roll back, the black pulling them under. My body goes limp. Thud.
14
Captured
My memory is being swept. I can feel it. Like someone thumbing pages inside my mind. It prickles. No interrogation? Straight to the mind manipulating. Where’s Bunce? That Morb has dodged death without any skill. Luck has been on his side, but this time there’s no escape. The Dark Angel of death must have found him. If not, people will start calling him Clover, so named is the Slum Lord becaus
e of his incredible good luck. Did Clover’s luck finally run out or did he manage to escape the guards?
Hard metal throws pain through my back. I can’t open my eyes, it’s as if they’ve been sewn shut.
‘She’s coming around. Her thought patterns are replacing the memories.’
A woman’s voice, I don’t recognise it. Lemons sprinkled with sugar. Not a nurse.
‘Give her another shot,’ a droning male voice sounds to my right.
I start to shiver, convulse, consciousness knocking at a door I can’t answer.
‘Ouch!’
A thick needle is jabbed into my temple, I accidentally bite down on my tongue and warm blood swims over it, metallic taste strong in my mouth.
The last few days flash through my mind in a blur, like smeared paint. Everything happened so quickly. My life went from the usual to unusual, from bad to hopeless. I attempt to break into the real, my eyelids flicker but won’t open. It’s futile.
‘What are you looking for, dammit!’ I yell to nothingness.
The side of my head throbs. Cognition starts to fade and I’m surrounded by the past, which feels like the present. The blackness becomes brighter and brighter until my lids flicker open and unnatural light stabs my eyes. I squint, reality forgotten, memories made real. My mind throws up a place I’d rather not remember.
The sign above the store in front of me flashes in a continuous rhythm, lighting up the words: Hyper Market. I stare until I feel my eyes un-focus. Blink. Spots appear. A male maid sweeps past me and into the shop. I take a step forward. I know I shouldn’t, I really mustn’t, but curiosity has control of my feet and before I know it I’m on the other side of the doors. I jump when a chirpy voice echoes around me.