Prologue A Last Resort She knows they haven’t got long. She looks across the frozen ocean, shuddering as the ground beneath rumbles. She turns and faces the island, chosen because of its location, the harshest place on Earth and the furthest from civilisation, where they couldn’t be influenced or found. Their mission had always been temporary, yet this place feels like home now. Home. She hasn’t seen it for years. Her heavy boots crunch through lichens that cling to icy surfaces, the cold biting hard. The lab bunker appears soon enough, built into the side of the volcano that dominates the island. Light from the narrow windows shimmer through the segmented rocks, illuminating her path. ‘Ready?’ her partner says, as she enters the sterilised entrance corridor. His dark brown eyes send a flash of encouragement in her direction, and a reassuring smile emerges through his beard. As she smiles back she notices for the first time that his beard and indeed his hair are flecked with grey. We really have been here for too long, she thinks, hanging up her wind-proof coat. ‘Ready,’ she says, her cheery voice a façade of confidence as she turns back to face him. ‘I have to do this, no matter what,’ her thoughts silently converse with her fear. Damn, it’s been a long journey. Plucked straight from college, she’d been chosen because of her skills as a scientist. Were those exemplary grades a curse or a blessing? Both, she decides. Oil has always been valuable, a source of control. Her father told her on several occasions that it had caused most of the recent major conflicts, and he held a firm belief that once the last oil reserve was depleted a devastating war would consume the planet. Uncharacteristically, she clenches her fists. That moment is almost upon them; that devastation about to be unleashed, and they were the ones responsible for finding more oil to prevent catastrophe, searching in the wilderness of Antarctica. Humanity drained the Earth, and now, in desperation, the authorities have turned to a place that is supposedly protected by treaties. But treaties don’t matter anymore; just words on paper. They are insignificant in light of the alternative. Her hands feel as though they’re burning, itching from the power within them. She’s lost ten years doing this, and as she rubs her cold fingers, she hopes it’ll all be worth it; that it’ll prevent war. ‘We’ve got two hours before the volcano erupts and the helicopter lifts off,’ he says. ‘The rest of the team have left, so it’s all down to us.’ He passes her a protective overall. Stepping into it before retying her hair into its customary ponytail, she says, ‘I still can’t believe how much there is down there.’ ‘This oil is the lifeline we needed. It’ll give us time to create a reliable replacement. Imagine where we’d be if it didn’t exist?’ Moving to the rear of the small room, he types a code on a secure door. ‘I don’t want to,’ she says. Although she trusts and respects him as a scientist, something inside her doubts whether the huge quantity of oil gurgling beneath them will last until a reliable replacement is created. The world could no longer be reliant on fossil fuels. This is the last oil source, the very last. Once it’s gone, it’s gone. Something has to change, and perhaps today will be the start of that. Copyright © Ryan Mark 2014 1 ‘Coming?’ Her partner has gone on ahead and she quickly steps into the secure room after him. ‘I’ll go and key in the transfer code. Should take about twenty minutes for the oil to flow,’ he says, heading over to a control panel. ‘I still can’t believe we pulled this off. Fifty pipes drilled into the last reserve in the coldest place on the planet. Unbelievable.’ ‘It really is a miracle.’ She gently touches her stomach. Not the only miracle. ‘Right, let’s get on.’ She focuses. ‘I’ll set up the rig and begin the transfer. I can’t believe this is nearly over. We can finally go home…’ He nods, his relief marked with a tender smile. Suddenly, the bunker shakes, the fluorescent lights blink. The sound of a thousand rocks crashing into steel vibrates throughout the room. She falls back but he catches her. An alarm begins to wail. ‘Check the transfer!’ she screams, stabilising herself. He rushes back to his position. Silence. She looks at him. His face and body are motionless at the controls. ‘What’s happened?’ she breathes. ‘The pipes have been severed,’ he says. ‘The oil’s escaping…’ ‘No, they can’t be. All of them? What about the safety net?’ He doesn’t reply. ‘Can we cap it?’ she asks. ‘How? We’d need the boat, and that’s away with the team… ’ ‘Then we have to recall the team. We’ve worked too hard to let this fail.’ ‘We can’t, it’s too late.’ He presses a red button and the control panel shuts off. ‘We’ve got to get out of here. I think the volcano’s erupting… Our readings must have been completely wrong.’ ‘I don’t understand how, after all our planning, all that work. God, I feel sick!’ She runs across the room, lands on her knees and empties the contents of her stomach into a bin. ‘Come on, we’ll work something out. If we stay here a moment longer we’re dead.’ He reaches for her and she wipes her mouth, grabs his hand and smiles. ‘I love you…’ she whispers, gripping hard. Before they can take another step, the island explodes in a ferocious roar of fire, rock and thick black smoke. The entire land mass disappears, melting into the bubbling cauldron of the ocean, and all that remains of what once was is an oil slick stretching far across the water. Beep, Beep, Beep. The sound pierces deep and it’s the only clear thing she can focus on. Her eyes flicker. ‘How the hell did she survive?’ a voice crackles near her ears. ‘The secure room she was in, must’ve been built for that kind of disaster.’ ‘Will she live?’ ‘Not sure. If it weren’t for the scientist who was with her, she would’ve definitely died. He shielded her, poor guy.’ ‘And the baby?’ A pause. ‘No…’ Copyright © Ryan Mark 2014 2 She feels the pain burn through every limb, not from the wounds, but from the love she has for him and their unborn child. The pain wraps its emotionless, agonising tentacles around her. The people who’d ordered her to that place would pay. They would pay with blood. Her eyes flicker again. Blood. Copyright © Ryan Mark 2014 3 Chapter 1 The Collapse – 5 Years and 6 Months Later: William A tremor rumbled through the ground, rattling the house and jostling the pictures that hung precariously on the walls. The huge pile of books on his desk was doused in yet another layer of debris. William held up his hand to stop the books from tumbling, but kept his eyes locked on the journal his head had been buried in for the past five hours. The candle close to him flickered. He yawned, his arms reaching up and outwards. His right hand disturbed the stack of books and it came crashing down to the floor, causing the thick coating of dust to swirl up into the air. William spluttered as he cleared the muck from the open page of the journal. ‘Damn,’ he whispered, carefully blowing the last few specks away. He stood up from his desk, stretched and walked across his room, briefly glimpsing the rubble-filled street as he walked by his window. Stopping in front of a cracked mirror, he stared at his reflection. Pushing his choppy, light brown hair out of his eyes he looked carefully into them, his pale complexion enhancing their colour. Even through the cloudy glass they shone a bright, light blue. He pulled his fringe back across his forehead and turned away. Thoughts of his father caused him to return to the desk and he turned to the next page of the journal – his father’s journal. It was one of the two items he’d been clutching when his body was found in the ruins of the geology station where he worked. The other was a picture of William and his mother. His father’s wedding ring glistened in the faded picture, but that had been lost, a fact that had devastated his mother. He sniffed and moved his focus back to the journal. William knew his attachment to the journal was bordering on obsessive, but he couldn’t help it, mostly because it was powerfully linked to the cause of everything that made his life hell. He read on to the next chapter, slowly taking in its title. ‘Tremors,’ he muttered, forcing it out, its meaning stinging his tongue. Tremors… William hated them, because they were the very things his father had been trying to stop when he died. He snatched up a pencil and drew a skull next to the word. They’d been created by a war; a war caused by greedy people who wanted oil. And Dad was dead because of them. William shook his head when he thought about how unfair it all was, adding crossbones to the skull. He whipped to the next page, almost tearing it from the spine. The word WAR, with a big exclamation mark next to it, stared up at him. He clenched his jaw. The war had been triggered by some big heads that’d thought they were so clever. But where were they now? William shook his head again. ‘Dead,’ he said, the word slowly uncoiling from his lips. Dead, like so many others who’d fought for power and oil during the Fossil War. He balled his hand into a fist, feeling the blood flowing from his fingers. ‘And what have they left us with?’ he whispered. ‘Tremors.’ All because of the stupid weapons they used to try to save themselves. He rubbed his temples in an effort to calm himself. ‘Blasted us to bits without a second thought!’ He felt the heat rise into his cheeks and he pounded his hands into the pages of the journal. ‘Just bloody tell me how to stop them, Dad!’ he shouted, frustrated, angry tears burning the back of his eyes. He stood and smashed one fist into a framed picture above the desk, his knuckles immediately throbbing and turning red. ‘William!’ shouted a voice from below. ‘Are you awake?’ Copyright © Ryan Mark 2014 4 William looked down at the journal. The pages he’d been reading were covered in glass. He slammed the pages shut and dived into his bed, gripping his hand. The sound of pounding feet on creaking stairs echoed from the hall. The door swung open, crashing into more books and sending them shooting across the floor. William buried his head in his pillow and tucked himself into his sheets. ‘Oh, Will love, this has to stop. You don’t get enough sleep,’ said his mother, Judy, blowing out the candle as she entered the room. ‘And we can’t waste these, you know.’ He felt his mattress sink a little at the bottom. ‘I was asleep mum, serious,’ he groaned. ‘You’ve been reading his journal again, haven’t you?’ said Judy. ‘Please, love, listen to me, you’ve got to stop this. Dad’s dead. And there’s nothing we can do now. There’s nothing you can do.’ William peeped out from the sheets. His mother’s green eyes shone in the dim morning light and her long brown hair framed her face, pale skin matching his own. ‘I can, I know it. If I can finish what he started we’ll find a way to stop the tremors.’ ‘Will, you’ve only just turned fifteen! Your dad had been researching earthquakes since his teens, and even with all that knowledge he couldn’t find a way to stop the tremors.’ William climbed out of bed, careful to hide his knuckles. ‘I need to go to school.’ He walked to his wardrobe and pulled on a moth-bitten school jumper, licking his fingers to help him rub a stain from the maroon fabric. ‘I want to get there before the market opens.’ He picked up the journal and a rucksack and walked out of the room. ‘You haven’t had a proper sleep,’ his mother said, following him. ‘Take a day off and spend it with me. We could relax; listen to the music on my iPod. I got a recharge and a few days supply of electricity as wages, so we’ll have heat and light tonight. I might even be able to cook something warm.’ William stopped just short of the door. ‘Is that it? Didn’t they give you any food?’ ‘No, but we’ll be OK, love. We’ve got enough to last us; more than some, anyway. I’ve got tinned broth in the cupboard. I can almost taste it.’ She joined him in the bathroom, her reflection trying hard to smile at him in the mirror. ‘They said there’s food coming in next week’s wages, so we’ll be fine. It’s been a bit mad at the hospital, you see. They haven’t had time to give me anything.’ ‘Mad?’ He shoved the journal into his rucksack, scooped up his worn-down toothbrush and the almost-empty tube of toothpaste. It was running out, like so many things were these days. He sighed and squeezed out a slither. He hoped they’d be able to get more, as he really didn’t fancy being toothless at twenty. ‘Yeah, completely.’ She leaned on the doorframe. He sighed, put the toothbrush into his mouth and let the chalky mint texture sting his gums. ‘Excuses all the time.’ He spat into the sink. ‘Will, love, we had 50 or so starving people from outside town at the hospital last night. I’m glad your dad decided to move us here. I wouldn’t want to be living in that cottage with things getting so desperate in the countryside.’ Judy walked the couple of steps from the door and as she rubbed his shoulder, her work badge caught his eye. The blue NHS logo was nearly rubbed out, and the worn surface made her name and title, Judy Bateman, Staff Nurse, Kentvale Hospital, almost unreadable. ‘At least let me make you breakfast before you go?’ ‘It’s getting pretty bad here too, don’t you think? I mean, you haven’t been given food in over a week. Besides, I liked that cottage. I wasn’t cooped up like I am here. We were actually free in the countryside and not held back by brick walls.’ He swung his bag onto his back and headed down the dilapidated staircase. His mother followed without comment. Copyright © Ryan Mark 2014 5 William turned to her. ‘I’ll pass on the breakfast, save it for later. I’m not hungry at the moment, anyway.’ The tired eyes opened and shut. ‘It’ll get better love, I know. I trust Terrafall. It won’t let us starve.’ Judy grabbed his hand. ‘Terrafall has been good to us since the end of the war. It’s given us as much back as it can.’ ‘It should’ve done more for Dad. It should’ve known he was at risk in that place!’ William pulled his hand back. Terrafall was the know-it-all energy company that took charge when nearly everything was gone. His dad had worked for them; had been loyal to them. And what did he get in return? A grave. William scowled. And thanks to the tremors, the same was waiting for him and Mum, too. ‘I’ve told you before, Terrafall wasn’t to know, love. It wants these tremors to stop as much as you do,’ Judy said softly. ‘Terrafall is useless! It might be giving us what we need now, but when things really do start to turn nasty I bet the people at the top will be keeping it all for themselves.’ William made for the door and pulled it open, not looking back at his mother. ‘You think the top man’s family goes without hot dinners?’ ‘Right, fine, I’m not going to argue with you, because I know I won’t win.’ Judy followed him and grabbed his hand again. ‘Just make sure you’re home before dark, it’s not safe since…’ ‘I know, Mum, I know,’ William replied, turning and looking at her. He regretted his attitude when he saw her green eyes were so full of concern. ‘I’ll try not to get pinched.’ ‘I’m serious, Will. It’s so dangerous at night now.’ She pulled him in for a hug. Mum never stopped trying to hold and to hug him nowadays. He got it – he was all she had – but it was seriously getting on his nerves. ‘I love you so much.’ Hugging her back, he headed out the door, walking into the cobbled street and almost tripping over a crack in the pavement. The run-down terraced houses either side of him funnelled the sun like a spotlight. He stepped into the warmth and began to walk down the thin road, waiting at the gate that protected his street from the dangers of the night until the guard opened it for him. ‘Want a copy of the Daily Scoop, lad?’ asked the guard, Victor, his blue uniform tatty and in need of a good wash. ‘Terrafall has a big announcement.’ William nodded. The man passed him a stained piece of paper. He looked down at the first bulletin and muttered the words as he read, ‘Peace Force cracks down on the night abductions. Scavengers to blame. Terrafall promises to keep the streets safe.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Whatever…’ ‘Fresh off the press, that one. Terrafall says it thinks it knows where the Scavengers are coming from. Apparently there’s a load cooped up in a valley somewhere to the north, called Deep Rest Hollow or something, and a few of the breakaway clans further in the highlands are sheltering some of them as well. Said it’s going to launch an attack in the coming weeks.’ William screwed up the piece of paper, not bothering to read on to the big announcement. ‘Hey! Paper’s not cheap, you know!’ William shrugged and carried on walking through the gate and into the main trading area of Kentvale, once the busiest market town in the north of the country and now one of the few settlements remaining in England, and quite probably one of only a few remaining on Earth. As far as William knew, all settlements were under Terrafall’s control, apart from a few communities in the country that had tried to break away from its iron fist. The area opened into a large plaza with an impressive war memorial built by Terrafall in the centre. A statue of a soldier stood proudly on its platform, cast out of metal so it stood a Copyright © Ryan Mark 2014 6 chance against the tremors. Bits had been repaired, but it still stood defiant, reminding people of the sacrifices that had been made during the Fossil War. William walked past some boarded-up shopfronts, their original signs faded almost to the point of invisibility. His attention always fell on the war-themed posters that were plastered across some of the boards. One read: Your Army Needs You! Recruiting now in all town centres. Join the fight, save your country, prevent its end. William shook his head. The end had kind of happened, he supposed, but not completely: he’d survived, and so had others. Although what was the point in surviving if only to live like this? As he pondered his situation he realised it hardly felt like living at all. Not proper living. So much had been taken from him – his father for one, and most of his family. All he had left were memories. He shrugged off his thoughts as several people appeared in the square and began busily setting up stalls and filling them with countless piles of junk. The ground shook slightly, but that didn’t stop anyone. People buzzed around like newly hatched midges skittering over a pond, eager to make a living. A few looked over as he passed. Crap, he could do without anyone asking how he was yet again. Walking quickly, he kept his head down to avoid conversation. He cringed at the prospect of small talk; hated the softly spoken condolences. He continued on, weaving in and out of the raggedy bunch of men and woman dressed in frayed and patched-up clothing. Nobody wore bright colours any more; thanks to a lack of cleaning products everything was muted grey or brown. The absence of colour mirrored the society: there was no joy. These people were just trying to survive; trying to live a little longer; trying to be as normal as they could be. A charade, William decided, that’s what it was. And the tremors, well, they made everything harder. He held onto a lamppost as, on cue, a more powerful one struck. No huge chunks fell from any of the nearby buildings, so it couldn’t have been too strong, but William knew a devastating force would be upon them soon enough. It’d been a long time since the last – the one that had taken his father from him – and there was always an imminent fear that another life-changing moment was just minutes away. The tremors were random and no one except the people in charge could anticipate when they’d strike. But the goons at Terrafall kept the technology and the knowledge to themselves, instead of sharing and teaching others how to stand a chance. That’s what he hated most about those guys. His father had told him all about their selfishness – the journal mentioned something called a tremor-reader, a device that could anticipate earthquakes, something it kept from the majority of the population. Terrafall didn’t care about any of them. Only the day before it had brutally beaten a family forced onto the streets because a tremor had destroyed their home. They’d been accused of being Scavengers, but how the hell could they have done anything about it, when the tremors were so unpredictable? And Terrafall could have so easily prevented that from happening if it had warned the family and moved them to safety. His mind was quickly brought back to the pavement when two men, wearing tatty blue capes, strode onto it, heading straight for him. Stepping into an open doorway and out of sight, he watched as they began to scan the area. He could see they both had jagged crosses Copyright © Ryan Mark 2014 7 clipped to their collars, a symbol that represented Terrafall. He shuffled back, pushing himself further into the shadows, and listened. ‘Can’t believe we’re still having to do this. It’s been 2 and a half years since we left those bunkers, and the radiation has never risen to dangerous levels,’ said the taller of the two. He pulled out a device that resembled a microphone and held it in the air, running his other hand through the willow like mess that covered his jawline. ‘How’s it looking?’ William rolled his eyes. Yet another example of how Terrafall kept technology to itself… ‘I’ll just check,’ said the second, boasting an even bushier beard. He looked down at the metallic box attached to his partner’s belt, which the microphone trailed from. ‘No change.’ ‘See, what’s the point?’ Barely any nukes were used during the war because of the Tbombs. Replaced them didn’t it,’ the first replied, letting his arm drop. ‘I mean, why use a nuke that could potentially backfire on you with radiation when you can use a weapon that just blasts your enemies to pieces, and on a larger scale too!’ ‘I wouldn’t have liked to have been caught up in a T-blast though. From what I’ve heard it turned the ground beneath you into a mouth, the very rocks becoming knife edged teeth. Then, as if that weren’t enough, the crust would blow upwards and smash down on anything that remained in one last explosion.’ The second held up his hand and brought it down on the other, the clap making William flinch. ‘And don’t you forget what those T-bombs have left us with. It might not be radiation, but it sure as hell isn’t anything less destructive!’ ‘Yeah, but Terrafall will stop the tremors. I’m sure,’ said the first, patting his partners back. ‘That’s why I think us doing this is pointless. We ought to be helping with the tremors.’ ‘Yeah, yeah, but who are we to argue?’ said the second, heading off with his partner. ‘Have you heard about the abduct…’ Their voices trailed off, gradually turning into inaudible murmurs. William slunk out of his hiding place and walked on again, shaking his head. As if Terrafall would be able to stop the tremors now. They’d lost his father, their best geologist, so they had no chance as far as he was concerned. But his mother wouldn’t agree, she was blinded by Terrafall’s promises, even though they’d failed to prevent his father’s death. Terrafall might’ve brought the survivors together and given some small comforts, but his mother couldn’t see what the mysterious organisation was truly like; see that it was using the crappy stuff it gave away as a means to sustain power. He spat out the sour taste that had built up from thinking about the huge, faceless controller. ‘It’s gross to spit, Will,’ came a voice from behind. ‘Althea.’ He turned, his lips slowly curving into a smile. Althea walked straight towards him, hair the colour of late autumn leaves, a halo of red framing her pretty face. ‘Why didn’t you meet me?’ she said, shoving his shoulder, her green eyes locked in a narrow glare. ‘Sorry, I’ve a lot on my mind, must’ve forgotten.’ He shrugged, meeting her intense gaze before blushing and quickly looking down. Her expression softened. ‘You’ve been up all night again, haven’t you? Working on that tremor stuff, I bet.’ Althea sighed. ‘I know how hard it is. I’ve really struggled without either of my parents, but you can’t let it eat you up. Try and get on with life, otherwise you’ll find you have no life left.’ ‘You call this living?’ he whispered, not looking at her. ‘You sound like my mum. If you’re going to be like that, just leave me alone!’ He turned away, but something stopped him from walking off. Copyright © Ryan Mark 2014 8 ‘Will.’ She placed a hand on his back. ‘I’ve been your best friend forever. I’m not going to leave you. How could I leave the only friend I have who remembers what it used to be like?’ William didn’t say a word. When Terrafall brought all the survivors together after the war, he’d found out that most of his friends, his schoolmates had vanished. ‘I know it’s hard, and a few weeks is such a short time to get over things. But look at the world we live in. You have to be strong,’ said Althea, gripping his shoulder. ‘Remember when we found that injured rabbit and your dad said there was nothing we could do? He said the best thing we could do was to put it to sleep? You were stronger than me back then, you agreed. I couldn’t. You need to find that strength again. For me, for your mum.’ Reluctant to argue, William nodded. ‘Why didn’t you wait for me, anyway? We’re not supposed to walk alone.’ William didn’t answer. He’d walked alone lots of times, when he needed to clear his head, or just forget, but he didn’t tell Althea or his mum that. Althea liked to take care of him, which suited him fine, most of the time. ‘You forgot me, didn’t you?’ she said, shaking her head and playfully punching him. William scowled and rubbed his arm. ‘Crap, Alfie, that hurt.’ ‘I don’t care. You need to pay more attention.’ She pulled her long, grey cardigan back onto her shoulders. Not bothering to reply, he accepted her arm when it came to link with his and passed the rock he’d been kicking down the street to her as they walked on. She kicked it back when they turned down a quiet road that led away from the centre of town. They walked in silence, skipping over the numerous fissures in the tarmac, keeping the rock in play between them. William kicked it a little too hard and it shot off into a gated street. He stopped and looked through the bars at the government buildings. ‘Archive Row. It’s been locked up,’ he said, shaking the padlock chained onto the double gates. ‘I suppose that means the library’s closed too, then.’ ‘Yeah, I guess it does. I think someone in the market said it was locked up when the night abductions started getting really bad.’ Althea stepped up behind him. ‘A lot of the town’s council staff live down there, too. Trying to protect themselves, I guess.’ ‘Why does Terrafall keep doing stuff like this? It can’t just seal off the library! There’s going to be nothing left for us to do.’ William kicked the gate. ‘I liked the library.’ ‘Shhh, look! There’s something going on down there.’ Althea pointed ahead. Beyond the entrance, in the wide road that stretched before them, were three parked armoured trucks, each with the jagged cross of Terrafall engraved into their rusted surfaces. A group of Terrafall Peace Enforcers, wearing the official blue uniform with capes and black helmets, were carrying folders towards the large building at the end. William wondered, not for the first time, how Terrafall managed to source those uniforms, when the rest of the population couldn’t find a spare tyre or toothpaste. ‘They look a bit shifty,’ whispered William. ‘When have the Peace Force not looked shifty?’ Althea turned away, auburn hair whipping her cheeks. ‘As far as I’m concerned, they’re a bunch of idiots. They didn’t help my parents when they needed support at the farm. It should’ve been protected. They were growing food for this town, for goodness’ sake!’ William grabbed her hand, sensing the anger building in her face. He wouldn’t put it past her to go and tell them off. He could see her now, scaling the fence, fists at the ready. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ ‘Makes you miss the days when the police were in charge, doesn’t it?’ said Althea, squeezing his hand. Copyright © Ryan Mark 2014 9 William nodded. The Peace Force was the organisation that replaced the police when Terrafall rebuilt society after the war. Its Peace Enforcers ruled the streets. The Enforcers’ job was to keep the streets clean and safe and boy did they do that. If you were found out after the night curfew you risked being thrown into the Prison Pit, or worse. And all because of the Scavengers: desperate souls who came out at night to forage for food and other commodities. Making Althea step away, William gulped. It was impossible not to feel on edge whenever the Enforcers were close. Copyright © Ryan Mark 2014 10 Chapter 2 School and Back Parr secondary school came into sight as they rounded the next corner – a big old gothic pile with spires and wide-vaulted widows, surrounded by a mess of crumbling modern buildings. William trudged through the entrance archway, which he suspected might come down in the next big tremor, vigilant for any new cracks that might have appeared overnight. ‘What’s your first period?’ asked Althea, stopping in front of the main entrance. ‘Science with Mr Blobby.’ William opened the big oak door in front of them, although they’d been told to use the doors to the rear, which had been made safe. It creaked and fell inwards to the floor, sending a crescendo of noises across the school grounds as it splintered into about twenty small pieces. ‘Oh God, quick!’ Althea grabbed his sleeve and pulled him through the doorway and into the hall. All was quiet. They raced around the corner towards a bank of classrooms at the back of the building. ‘Sorry,’ William panted. ‘Stupid thing to do.’ ‘You should be. We could’ve been fined electricity rights or food for that one.’ She grinned as she caught her breath. ‘Meet you back here after class, OK?’ He nodded and Althea skipped off down a dusty hall. William wandered off in the opposite direction. He opened the door to G1, where he had science, though he could have easily stepped through the huge, gaping crack in the wall to the left. He did it out of normality, trying to forget about the reality that surrounded him. Eight other students sat in the room, poor sods whose parents thought, like William’s mum, that there was still hope. He sighed, and pulled the journal and some pencils out of his bag. ‘Hey Willy, still alive then,’ said a greasy-haired boy slouching against a table at the back of the room. His tone was one of complete disappointment. ‘Yeah, suppose I am, Chris,’ replied William, biting his tongue to try to stop himself from throwing back an insult. ‘That dump of a house you live in can’t last much longer, can it?’ Chris said, snickering. ‘Can’t imagine what it’s like to live in such a tip.’ William ground his teeth. Chris had to be the most arrogant little creep left on the planet, which wasn’t helped by the fact that his dad was mayor, and that they had one of the sturdiest mansions in town, complete with an underground bunker. ‘If your dad didn’t suck up to Terrafall like he does, you’d be living like the rest of us, you know that?’ William couldn’t help himself. Everyone knew that Chris’s dad, Mayor Greystone, did a rubbish job as mayor. Nothing would happen until someone complained to Terrafall, and even then the complaints never made it far, because hardly anyone saw or even knew who was in charge of the covert company. The mayor was known as The Puppet, for he simply did exactly what the huge energy company told him to do. The other kids began to laugh behind their hands, some silently encouraging Chris to get up and start on William. William rolled his eyes and turned his back. ‘I’m gonna permanently bury that geeky face of yours in that stupid book you’re so obsessed with. Don’t you dare talk about my dad like that!’ Chris moved forward, face blood red, but he quickly sat back down when the door began to rattle. William settled into his seat, deliberately ignoring his nemesis. Copyright © Ryan Mark 2014 11 ‘Good morning class!’ boomed the familiar voice. A heavy-set man entered the room and slammed the door shut. The doorframe shook slightly. He was large, very large. William always wondered how he’d managed to stay that size since the rationing had started and Terrafall had taken control of the food supply. Even Chris’s family didn’t seem to overindulge. You worked for your food, and got what they thought you needed. He’d probably stockpiled the contents of some grocery shop or something, William guessed. ‘Now, we got onto renewable powers last time. Yes, well it is my strongest belief that you, you mere children of what — fourteen, fifteen? — hold the keys to this crisis! You are the ones who will lead us into a brave new world!’ The teacher stood behind the desk, straightening the stained white shirt he wore, which really didn’t fit. It was tight around his gut, and the buttons were ready to pop. He turned to the white board and scratched his thinning black hair before pulling out a black pen and beginning to write. William opened his journal and started to read. Mr Blobby couldn’t teach him anything new, so he figured he had an hour of undisturbed reading. Perfect. He sank back into his seat. All he needed now was a cup of tea. He smirked. Dream on. ‘Mr Hoarden,’ said Chris, raising his hand and shaking it. ‘I don’t think William’s listening.’ He smirked when William glared back at him. ‘Reading again? You geek.’ ‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ muttered William, closing the journal and pulling it onto his lap. Mr Hoarden bounded over to William’s desk and held out a chubby hand. William looked up into his beady brown eyes and held the book tight. ‘I saw what you had there. It is a privilege to still be in school, you know that. How dare you waste time reading trivia! Hand it over!’ Mr Hoarden drew closer, his foul breath pushing through the bristles of his goatee. After a short tussle he managed to snatch the journal. ‘No!’ William tried to retrieve it, but failed. The teacher flipped the pages. ‘A book about Terrafall? Oh my, this doesn’t appear to be an authorised copy, does it? You know the rules. This type of documentation is to be handed in for incineration.’ ‘Give it back!’ said William, standing up. The teacher walked back to his desk. ‘No, this is school property now.’ William banged his hand on his desk. ‘Give it back. Now! It’s mine!’ ‘William loves his book. Totally weird,’ said Chris in a mock whisper. A few of the students in the class laughed out loud. ‘Books are only good for firewood now,’ commented another kid, Aiden. ‘That’s what my mum says.’ ‘Poor William and his unnatural love of books,’ Chris said, more loudly this time. ‘William, sit down, and Chris, enough of that,’ said the teacher, placing the journal in a desk drawer. ‘I’ve told you, this is school property now.’ ‘That’s my damn book, you fat idiot!’ William felt his face burn. ‘I want it back. NOW!’ ‘How dare you! I think we’ll do Terrafall a favour, and as Aiden said, books are only Copyright © Ryan Mark 2014 12 good for one thing now.’ Mr Hoarden pulled out the journal and struck a match before throwing them both into a metallic waste paper bin. A fire quickly flickered into life. William lunged forward, but the flames had already taken hold, and there was no way he’d be able to reach in to grab the journal. ‘You stupid piece of crap!’ Mr Hoarden met William’s tone. ‘Get out of this room now!’ he yelled. ‘If you set foot inside this classroom again, I will personally see to it that you’re thrown into The Pit!’ William didn’t move, his eyes locked on the teacher in a death stare. What could he do now? The journal was gone, its pages swiftly devoured by the greedy fire and turning to scorched fragments. What good would ashes be? He took a breath, walked back to his seat, swung his bag over a shoulder and crashed out of the room, not looking at anyone, or even listening to the insults that followed him. He stamped down the corridor, straight into a line of chairs outside what was once the headmaster’s office. Picking one up, he threw it across the hall, knocking down a bust of King Alexander, the last monarch to have ruled the United Kingdom before the war. The pieces shattered across the marble floor. Someone shouted at him from behind but he carried on without looking back. Turning into another corridor, he began to pace the length of it, holding back the angry screams that were raging to be unleashed from deep within him. He thought of his father and something came to mind, a memory he thought lost: he was about seven, having a tantrum over a broken toy and his father dragged him to the piano and began guiding his fingers across the keys. “Learn to play; it’ll help funnel the anger. Let the keys absorb it and the sounds carry it away. That’s my boy.” William headed straight for the music hall. It was piled with old glockenspiels, metal bars mostly gone, the ones still remaining covered in rust. The back of the room was filled with electric keyboards, dust almost consuming them. But his attention was drawn to the sedate grand piano in the far corner. Storming to the piano, William began to bash out some angry chords on its worn keys. He tried to push the anger into the tune he was playing, just as he’d been taught, but it wouldn’t work. He could feel the pressure building in his hands. He bunched his fingers into fists and slammed them into the piano, causing one of its legs to collapse. Turning away in disgust, he threw the piano stool across the room and headed for the door. What that fat crappy teacher had done to him couldn’t be tamed by the out of tune piano keys. He punched his already sore hand into the plasterboard wall as he left the room. Outside, spent, he sat down on a bench and buried his face in his hands. * ‘Will, wake up, you sausage!’ Althea plonked herself down next to William, slapping his knee. ‘W–what?’ William wiped the drool from his mouth. He looked up. Althea’s querying green eyes stared back at him. He must have fallen asleep. ‘Oh, hey.’ ‘Bad class?’ William nodded. ‘You have no idea. Can we bunk?’ Copyright © Ryan Mark 2014 13 ‘Yeah, let’s go. Not much point in school anyway, is there? Not when it might fall down tomorrow.’ They left the school through another collapsed wall in the disused Drama block. William linked Althea’s arm this time. ‘How was self-defence?’ ‘Boring. I’m gutted I can’t do gymnastics anymore – I loved the beam. Could’ve gone national, my old coach said.’ Althea looked down. ‘I suppose the tremors make gymnastics pointless. You can’t do a sport like that when there might be a tremor at any moment, can you?’ William plodded beside her. ‘Well, nothing could be worse than science. I lost my dad’s journal.’ ‘No! How?’ William relayed the sad story. Althea squeezed his arm. ‘Mr Blobby is putrid. I swear he’d have eaten it if you’d not stood up for yourself. Listen, want to go back and mess with him later?’ ‘No, we’d get thrown in The Pit. It’s over now.’ ‘Maybe it’s for the best. You were getting obsessed.’ ‘Let’s not talk about it, OK?’ William unlinked his arm. ‘If there was anything in there that could’ve helped, it’s gone.’ Could they really chance going back for revenge? No. The few remaining teachers in the settlement were idolised and Terrafall didn’t take kindly to kids who didn’t respect them. If they messed with Mr Blobby and people found out, they’d end up being mobbed, or maybe even… He stopped himself. The teachers were Terrafall’s way of making sure the younger generations were kept in check, teaching that Terrafall was the saviour. There was no way they could risk screwing with Mr Blobby. Althea took a deep breath. ‘Want to go to The Brambles?’ William nodded; it was the best suggestion he’d heard all day. The Brambles was a secret place he and Althea found a week after he’d been moved to Kentvale – and the most succulent blackberries inexplicably grew there. The thought of The Brambles made it easy to forget, if only for a while, about Mr Blobby and the journal. He hoped the remaining blackberries had ripened, as last time they’d demolished all the edible ones. It would be nice to take some back to his mother. God knew she deserved a treat. They left the vicinity of the school and headed to a forgotten housing estate on the outskirts of town. The toppled terraces hid the old allotments from the street, their grey bricks surrounding the patch of prickly shrubs in a protective circle. William crawled through the hidden tunnel first, but it was Althea who grabbed the first branch. ‘Yummm,’ she said, through a mouthful of purple-black goo. He smiled and began to pick his own. They spent the next few hours in the old allotment, picking blackberries, staring up at the sun while they ate them, then chasing each other through the tangled bushes even though they felt far too full to move. The hours passed and before long, the sun began to seep down towards the horizon. ‘The sun’s setting,’ said William, wondering how time spent with Althea always went by so quickly. ‘Better get home before the Scavengers come out. It’s nearly curfew.’ So far, no one had actually seen the Scavengers do anything other than, well, scavenge for food. William was fairly certain that the threat was made up by Terrafall to control them, but he didn’t fancy being proven wrong. ‘If we’re out without street passes, the Enforcers will totally think we’re Scavengers,’ Althea said, grabbing William’s arm. Rumour went that if you were found out after dark Copyright © Ryan Mark 2014 14 you’d be thrown into The Pit, a hole outside town where people who’d committed crimes were taken. Some said it was what had become of the bunkers, the place that sheltered the survivors during the war, but mainly it was described as a gloomy hell. ‘Let’s go. I need to get back and make sure Granddad’s alright, anyway. He’s probably overdone it in the vegetable patch, knowing my luck, and that’s not good for his muscles. And I bet Ori didn’t even try to stop him.’ She grabbed William’s hand and they exited The Brambles. They ran through the dreary streets, now deserted and completely silent. The main housing areas were gated and protected by defensive walls of junk, most with guards stood by their entrances. William came to the protective barrier that sheltered his own street. He left Althea at the gate and slipped through, nodding at the guard, Victor, as he passed. As he approached the house he knew immediately something was wrong. ‘What the…?’ The door’s wooden planks were splintered and lying in the hall on the other side. William’s heart bashed at his ribs. His brain felt as if it were spinning in his skull. He trembled slightly, but managed to keep balance by holding the frame. What had happened? Who had done this? A Scavenger? William gulped in air, his eyes scanning every dark corner of the corridor in front of him. Had his mother been at home? He shivered, and quickly stepped over the collapsed pieces of wood, fists tight. Please, mum, be safe. Please. She was all he had left. Copyright © Ryan Mark 2014 15