The Wheel: A Young Adult Dystopian Novel (Nightfall Book 1)

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The Wheel: A Young Adult Dystopian Novel (Nightfall Book 1) Page 5

by Cynthia Hickey


  No, something far more sinister was behind us finding other survivors. I wrinkled my forehead in thought. “I think the others want nothing to do with Soriah. I think Soriah wants them disposed of to prevent war. Someone is a threat to the president.”

  Fawke’s head whipped to face me. “That’s pretty far-fetched.”

  “Not if you remember your history it isn’t. The pride of man has always been his downfall.” I smiled, glad I’d paid attention during my years of education. “Resources are precious and few in today’s world. What if it’s all as simple as Soriah not wanting to share what little is left?”

  “That would mean they would want us to dispose of the others.” Gage shook her head, stirring the pot. “I couldn’t.”

  Neither could I.

  “Disobeying a direct order will get you killed,” Kira pointed out. “You won’t have a choice.”

  “We always have a choice.” Gage spooned the slop into bowls, handing us each one. “Besides, it’s all speculation at this point. Why don’t we wait and see what this Sharon says?”

  The far-off scream of a Malignant from deep within the building set me on edge. Would I rebel against Soriah given the chance? Would I toss a life of living in fear of Malignants for a more peaceful one in the mountains even if it meant I became a traitor? What if the mountain dwellers lived among demons of their own? Too many questions. No answers.

  Fawke watched me, his face clouded with concern as if he could read my thoughts. I took my bowl of food and moved away from the others wanting to be alone with my doubts and questions.

  Alone, I ate the tasteless meal that would provide the needed nutrients and energy to accomplish the job I’d been sent to do.

  As soon as I woke the next morning, I turned on the radio and waited for Sharon to appear. No one other than Fawke was awake yet, and he sat quietly beside me.

  “Miss Dayholt.” Sharon’s grinning face appeared. “You are an early bird.”

  “What did President Cane say?”

  “He wants the others located. No contact as of yet.” Her smiled never faded. “Just the location.”

  “We’ll need a tent that can be erected quickly,” I said. “Venturing away from the city will be dangerous.”

  “I’m sure you can handle things, Miss Dayholt. You seem quite bright.”

  I stared at her for a moment, then blurted, “Why not send a helicopter to find them?”

  Surprise flickered in her eyes. “I told President Cane our young Stalker leader had a good mind.” She shrugged. “We sent one helicopter once and it was shot down. We cannot risk that happening again. They are irreplaceable.”

  “But we’re expendable.”

  She exhaled slowly and nodded.

  “What about sending us more fighters?” I tilted my head.

  “Not unless they are chosen by The Wheel. You know how things are done here.”

  I pressed my lips together. “Will we get the tent?”

  “You will with Sunday’s drop.” Her gaze hardened. “Don’t try bucking the system, Miss Dayholt. It won’t go well for you.”

  I stiffened at her threat, then nodded and turned off the radio. I glanced over to see Ezra watching. “What did you do to become a lifer?”

  “Asked too many questions.” He grinned and rolled over. He lied, but I chose to take the warning, at least for now.

  “It does seem as if the others don’t want anything to do with Soriah,” Fawke whispered. “We could very well be going on a suicide mission.”

  “Yes, but with us dead, there’s no one left in this city, which reinforces my idea that the Malignants are not the real reason we’re here.” I bit my bottom lip. “It doesn’t add up.” I met his gaze. Could I trust him? I felt as if I could trust all of my group, other than Ezra.

  “If our primary purpose was looking for others,” Fawke said, nodding, “then why have we remained in this one spot for years? I’ve lived in this room the entire time I’ve been here.”

  “How far out have you ventured?”

  “We get a little more ground covered as we clear the area of Malignants, but others trickle back in. The groups we’d meet have fewer now than when I arrived.”

  I glanced outside. “What draws more in?”

  He laughed. “The smell of fresh human meat.”

  “Which means there will be more and more of the creatures as we get closer to the other survivors.” An icy fist gripped my heart.

  We would be lambs walking into a blood bath.

  8

  I gripped my sword, wishing I’d grabbed one of the guns like the others had when I’d been left alone in the supply room. I was the only person without one and would rather shoot than fight a Malignant hand-to-hand. If only the red-haired man had been a little more forthcoming about what I’d actually need in this place. “What happened to the former leader’s gun?”

  “I have it,” Kira said. “I’d only had a sword and knives before he died. Why don’t women think of guns instead of swords? The only way to get one now is for one of us to die or you take one from a newbie.”

  “I grabbed a gun,” Gage said, grinning. “Maybe one will drop from the sky.”

  Us three women stood guard while the men struggled to pile steel bars onto a makeshift carrier. We’d been searching for supplies to make a wagon all day, with little success because of the Malignants. They wanted out of the wet outdoors as much as we did, thus preventing us from scavenging without their constant presence.

  A hissing from behind us. Dante swung a bar at the beast’s head, caving it in and splattering the other bars with blood and brain matter.

  I shuddered. A bloody job, and one I was growing weary of after only a few weeks.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” Fawke said, his voice echoing down the tunnel. “This subway tunnel is too full of them. We’re boxed in.”

  “What about the bars?” Moses hefted one to his shoulder.

  “We’ll take what we can and find more somewhere else.” Fawke grabbed one, Ezra and Dante copying.

  We ran as fast as the men could go with their heavy burdens. Climbing the ladders to the upper level proved more challenging. Again, the women stood guard, while the men handed the bars to whoever was at the top of the ladder.

  Kira’s gun boomed as she fired at the approaching creatures. “We’re getting overrun!”

  “Drop the bars and go,” I ordered, shoving against Moses. “We’ll find more. Hurry.”

  From faraway, I heard the thump of a helicopter. Today wasn’t Sunday, which meant they’d either sent our supplies early or were dropping off someone else unlucky enough to be a Stalker. Dropping them off in a field still wet with poison. We had more than one reason to hurry.

  Our feet slammed the cracked concrete as we raced through the subway platform, up another set of stairs, and barged into the thankfully empty station. Moses and Ezra slammed the doors closed and slipped one of the very bars we’d worked so hard to get into the space between the handles.

  “If we’re to get supplies before the outside dries up, we need to be more vigilant.” I leaned against a wall to catch my breath. “We also need to find out what the helicopter is dropping.”

  Fawke nodded. “I know a place we can see from.” He led us up another flight of stairs, then another until we reached a roof.

  Bright against the gray sky was the white of a parachute. Attached to that parachute was a person.

  “What now? If the wet is poison, we can’t let that person sicken and die?” I glanced at the others. “We need everyone.” I paced the rooftop, my brain struggling to come up with a plan. How long until the rain was no longer poison? I stopped and took a deep breath. “All we can do is hope the person is wearing a suit. Fawke, come with me. We’ll have to get dressed and go get them.” Or leave them to survive on their own if they were wet. Considering Soriah knows the danger we’ll be heading into in a few days, I bet on the new arrival wearing a suit. The longer I was here, the more I realized how
sharp an eye Soriah kept on us Stalkers, but I hadn’t figured out how.

  We headed back to the ground floor and quickly made our way “home”. Fawke and I donned our rubber suits and ventured outside, heading to where new Stalkers were dropped. I wondered why they were dropped so far away when supplies landed in the courtyard outside the building we lived in and said so.

  “It’s part of the training. If you can’t make it through a portion of the city not crawling with hordes of Malignants, then you shouldn’t be here.”

  “None of us should be here.” I kicked a rock in my path and sent it clattering.

  “Yet we are.” He took my hand.

  Even though I couldn’t feel his touch through the suit, tingles shot up my arm. “Make the best of it then?” I smiled.

  “Yep. There.” He directed my attention to where someone sprinted toward us, two Malignants on his tail.

  The young man wore a leather suit and carried two guns. “I can’t shoot with a gun in each hand,” he gave a nervous laugh and handed me one. “I got a little greedy when they let me loose in that room. Then a very tall woman told me to give one to the leader. Said that person hadn’t been smart enough to grab one.” His grin turned cocky.

  “Just point and pull the trigger,” Fawke said, handing one of the guns to me. “This is the leader.”

  I sheathed my sword and took aim at one of the Malignants. I lined up the red dot where the thing’s heart was and dropped the creature like a rock while Fawke took care of the other one. I knew the feeling of taking what a person could carry. I’d weighed myself down so much, running had often been difficult.

  Once the creatures were dead, I turned and offered my hand. “I’m Crynn Dayholt. Leader. Thank you for the weapon. This is Fawke Newton.”

  “Thanks for the help.” He returned the shake. “Jolt Hirsch, newly turned eighteen. I have a feeling I’m going to hate that needle landing on black. I didn’t choose this suit, but was ordered to put it on. Were those Malignants?”

  “Yes, and I guarantee you’ll regret the choice the wheel made for you. The suit is to protect you from the rain which is poison. Follow us and keep your eyes open.”

  As we traveled, Fawke filled the newcomer in on life in the city and our primary goal of finding other survivors. “You make number eight in our group.”

  “That’s all?” Jolt’s steps faltered. “I’d hoped for more when they told me the job I’d been chosen for. Oh, and Alga said she’s surprised to find you still alive.”

  The temptation to offer him the role of leader tugged at me, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t feel right handing something to someone I wasn’t willing to bear myself. “I’m as surprised as she is.”

  “Don’t let her size fool you,” Fawke said. “Our leader is fearless and bright.”

  I straightened at the compliment. “We should stop talking. Malignants know a helicopter means a human is around somewhere. They can’t smell us, but they can still hear.” I left out the fact they seemed to be getting smarter.

  Once we arrived home and introductions were made, Jolt emptied the large pack on his back. “I wasn’t sure what we needed, so grabbed some tools, food, a sword and knife, and a blanket.”

  “You’ll be glad of the blanket.” Moses clapped him on the back. “We’ll be glad of the rest. Where’s your parachute? They’re useful covering out here.”

  “I cut the lines and ran.”

  “He was being chased by two Malignants.” I propped the gun against the wall. “I’m very grateful that you didn’t drop one of the weapons.”

  “No way. Alga told me to definitely not take only a sword and if my leader was to make it long enough to get home, she’d need the gun..”

  I laughed and ducked my head, again wishing the man who’d led me to the room had been as helpful. “We’re trying to build a couple of wagons in order to carry our supplies to the mountain, but keep getting set upon by Malignants.”

  Ezra sorted the food, exclaiming over a pear. “Where did this beauty come from? Fruit is rare indeed.”

  “Didn’t know what it was. It was on a shelf. Looked good, so I took it.” Jolt shrugged. His gaze kept flicking to Gage, who blushed. “The hill?”

  “I don’t care where it came from,” Kira said. “Cut it into eights.”

  “I wasn’t the only one who landed on black,” Jolt said as we enjoyed the fruit. “There was another guy.”

  “What happened to him?” Dante asked, biting into his slice of the fruit. “Man, that’s good.”

  “I don’t know, but I caught a glimpse of him after the supply room and all he had with him was a knife. The next morning, there were several people in his room.” A shadow crossed his features. “I think he killed himself rather than come here.”

  “Are the people in Soriah familiar with Malignants?” Fawke wiped his fingers on his pants. “I had no idea what they were until my training.”

  “I don’t know. What’s up with the continuous fires burning?”

  “Gas mains,” Ezra said. “Be glad of them. If you think it’s cold and dark now, imagine what life without them would be like.”

  “I saw another man and woman being led in chains. I think they tried to steal food.” Jolt licked the pear juice from his fingers. “Do you think they’ll be sent here?”

  “The non-violent criminals usually are,” Ezra said. “We turn violent real fast once we get here, though.”

  “Where do the violent ones go?” I asked. “How do they know someone sent here doesn’t go rogue and kill the others in order to keep the supplies all to themselves?”

  Ezra’s laugh lacked humor. “They put a tracker in you, right? If they think you’re disposable, all they have to do is punch in a code and that tracker will dislodge and race through your bloodstream straight to your heart. Bucking the system is suicide.”

  I glanced at the small bump under the skin on my right forearm. It would be a quick death, most likely painless. But, I wasn’t a criminal. In ten years, I’d be living a life of luxury with plenty of food and fine clothes. Still young enough to get married and have a family. I wanted to live.

  “How many have come and gone since you’ve been here, Ezra?”

  “They were here before me, and they’ll be here after me. When I showed up, there were twenty of us. A few were terminated, the others killed by Malignants, we thought.” He inhaled sharply through his nose. “I was told that the Stalkers once lived on the outskirts of the city, closer to the mountain, but moved further inland with each death. I’m thinking not all the deaths can be blamed on those creatures.”

  “Which means the other survivors aren’t friendly.”

  His gaze clashed with mine. “Hence the lack of motivation in hunting them down. Until now. Something must have happened for the President to want them located.”

  “Now, we’re being honest.” I moved to my bedding. “Best get some rest. Tomorrow, we go outside in our suits to find what we need for the wagons. No more dark tunnels.”

  Wrapping my wool blanket around me, I rolled over and faced the wall. Getting Ezra to be truthful was like pulling teeth from one of the Malignants. Almost impossible. We all knew he was a lifer. We all knew he’d been given orders to find survivors and bide his time until orders came for our group to actually start searching. That time had come.

  The sight of the smoke was what he’d feared. I still didn’t trust him, although I doubted he held anymore secrets. Friendly or not, we’d been given an order to find the others. That didn’t mean we had to make contact. If we could live among the Malignants, we could live on the outskirts undetected.

  We’d find a way.

  9

  I lay on my back staring through the gloom at the sagging ceiling as the rest of my group continued to sleep. How did Soriah know what we did or didn’t do? Did Ezra communicate with them in some way? Was he a spy for those on the hill or simply a life-long Stalker with nothing to lose?

  When it became evident I’d get no more sleep,
I sat up and listened to the strangely soothing sounds of those around me snoring. The Malignants must sleep, too, because nights were void of their screams. What if we chose to move at night rather than in the dim light of day? Our rubber helmets had flashlights. We could move faster without having to stop and fight every hour.

  “Can’t sleep?” Fawks leaned on his right elbow.

  I wrapped my arms around my bent knees. “I know we have trackers in our arms. Obviously, they can eliminate us, but my question is…how does Soriah keep tabs on us? I haven’t noticed any cameras or recording devices.”

  “That’s a very good question.” He moved to a cross-legged sitting position and glanced to where the others slept. “I’ve wondered about Ezra being a snitch.”

  “Yeah, but why? Would it shorten his time here? I haven’t noticed him receiving any gifts.” As leader, I felt it my duty to get to bottom of how we were being watched. “It’s far more than our trackers. It’s also more than clearing the city of Malignants. That’s an impossible task. Maybe that’s what a Stalkers purpose was at first, but I think our primary mission has changed.”

  He scooted closer and lowered his voice. “Be careful. I agree that there is a spy in our midst. Maybe it’s Ezra, but it could be someone else.”

  I faced him. “Can I trust you?”

  “Don’t trust anyone. Everyone has a price out here. If they’re offered the chance to do something to gain their freedom, they will.”

  “But how?” My shoulders slumped. “How would they be approached?” So many things didn’t make sense.

  “Weren’t you given special instructions before coming here?” He whispered.

  “No.” I widened my eyes.

  “Then, you’re lucky. I assumed everyone got their own special assignment. Something to do for Soriah when the time was right.”

 

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