The Dawn: Omnibus edition (box set books 1-5)

by Michelle Muckley

  But even if there had been somebody prepared to share, that in itself was prohibited by the new wave of regulations in place. It was no longer tolerated by the new-style Guardians who had shown up, roaming the corridors with their Assisters, complemented by guns. Even with permission, to take a portion of unleavened bread from a neighbour’s plate the act was seen as theft against the Republic and therefore a direct threat to President Grayson. Most people chose to eat in silence for fear of their discussion being misinterpreted as sedition.

  Several new punishments had been instituted since he was released from Epsilon Tower. The younger residents who moved through the different levels of Delta Tower reported different punishments on different levels. On level thirty two for example, the new-style Guardians charged one resident with subordination and held him underneath the air vents while his face was fitted with a contraption that prevented him from blinking. Afterwards the man’s eyes were so dry and red it was as if they had been on fire. The Guardians had looked on in delight as the punishment ended with a sharp blow to the back of the knee. Leonard also heard that on the higher levels a regimen of push-ups had been instituted, and at any given time there could be up to thirty people balanced on their knuckles, both men and women. At first Leonard took that as a pleasant alternative. But then the resident from level forty two went on to say that the push-ups were completed in a pit of broken glass with bare hands and bare feet. Several of the residents had shards of glass embedded in their foreheads from where the Guardians had decided their effort was insufficient, and so encouraged them on with a boot to the back of the head. Even so, he was grateful to have been returned. The threat of what could happen in Epsilon Tower was more terrifying than the threat right in front of him in Delta.

  Leonard tried to ignore the punishments and keep his head down. During his down time he stayed in his room and tried to block out the shouting and screaming that resounded from the corridor as residents were familiarised with the new arrangements. Sometimes he would prop himself up on three pillows to stare out of the window. He still saw the occasional lights flickering from behind a particularly dark patch of cloud, but now that Zack was no longer there to listen to him, his certainty that they offered any level of hope had faded. Perhaps he was even imagining it, because not even Zack had ever managed to see it.

  But his rest was disturbed by a recurring dream, one that had plagued him since the day Zack left for a better life. It was more accurately described as a nightmare, but he was getting used to it now and each night he woke less sweaty and less out of breath. In his dream he saw Zack inside Omega Tower, his skin pink and healthy, his muscles plumped by better provisions. The whole building in Leonard’s dream was bathed in a brilliant pink light, the kind seen during a beautiful spring sunset. Zack would wave to him before walking away. Leonard would take tentative steps in the same direction, but was impeded by water flowing around his bare feet. It was icy cold, dark grey with a terrifying threat of depth. The water swelled around his calves, then his knees. Leonard would try to quicken his pace but soon enough he was left with no option other than to swim, splashing about like a stranded dog. The water would swallow him, leaving him pressed up against a metal grid with no way to go backwards and no way to go forwards. Just before he drowned he would choke himself awake.

  Leonard was in the Food Hall when they arrived. Their footsteps drummed through to his core, shaking his insides before fear got a chance to do the same. There were so many of them. It seemed like they were all shouting at once.

  “On your feet, everybody,” he heard one of the new-style Guardians shout. The drumming pulsed throughout the other levels until soon enough every resident had been dragged into a communal area. The person next to Leonard helped him stand up. Leonard turned to get a good look at the entrance, only to see what looked like an army of new-style Guardians flooding into the Food Hall. Most of them encircled the residents, but one of them broke free from the pack and pushed his way through a series of apathetic Delta residents until he was roughly in the centre of the room. Some background kitchen noise spread from the hatch where the food was served. A kerfuffle broke out involving one of the Guardians. After a few seconds of intensified discussion the noise from the kitchen was quietened. The new-style Guardian climbed onto a table, held up some sort of glass panel as if it was a scroll and began reading from it.

  “Residents of Delta Tower, this is a message that comes directly from your president.” A rumble spread through the crowd, luring the Guardians in closer. Silence followed. “You will listen to this message and you will follow the instructions. In spite of the simplicity of the instructions I will read them twice for you, because you will be expected to memorise them.” He brought his fist up to his mouth and cleared his throat. He resumed his position. “Residents of Delta Tower, you have worked tirelessly and with great dedication to serve the needs of our Republic. I wish to congratulate you on your success. With such impressive commitment you have filtered water for many years, meeting the needs of every citizen throughout the Republic of New Omega. I, my family, and every fellow citizen of the Republic of New Omega thanks you, and will forever be in your debt. Without your devotion and commitment we would not have survived.” That was the point that the new-style Guardian did something highly unexpected. He placed the glass panel into his armpit and raised his hands for a round of applause. All of the Omega personnel did the same and the sound of elation erupted through the Food Hall. If they had wanted to silence the Delta residents, this was all they needed to do. Surprise, it seemed, was much more effective than force. A few residents joined in, but it wasn’t mandatory. The clapping stopped and he continued.

  “In the coming weeks we will undergo a series of great changes. These changes will be instigated for the benefit of the Republic of New Omega. These are necessary changes. They are not unforeseen and you should not be concerned. In order for us to accomplish such aims it is imperative that we have your cooperation. I am sure you will already be aware of changes occurring in your tower. Some of these changes may appear to have made life more complicated. For example, it has been necessary at times to reroute power. This may have resulted in the interruption of certain services to which you have become accustomed. I am sure you have approached these changes to routine without complaint and without malaise. Remember that your tower is your responsibility. You will have witnessed the arrival of new personnel. They are there to ensure that the necessary changes occur in a timely fashion. Your cooperation with the Comrades is greatly appreciated.” The speaker paused, worked on an itch around the edge of his nose. “The Comrades will now announce a series of new regulations designed for your tower. For the benefit of all, I have granted the Comrades the power to ensure these new regulations are followed by any means necessary.”

  There was a mixture of nerves and excitement in the crowd. Some saw the potential for change as an improvement. These were the hopers, the people who still had faith in those that control their lives. That was when Leonard realised that he was flat out of hope. Because the only thing he could think was that this had to be bad. Good news was delivered by the president himself across the many televisions that adorned the corridors of Delta Tower. Such announcements were met by affirmations to remember that it was still possible to become your Omega-self. Announcements that came with an army of reinforcements and new powers for those in charge could never be good. He gripped one gnarled arthritic hand in the other, pushing his palms together. He prayed that if it was about to get worse, somebody would grant him the good grace to meet his wife sooner rather than later.

  “The First Regulation,” began the Comrade. “All citizens will remain within their private quarters following the triple bell.” It wasn’t long ago that the triple Bell had sounded. It indicated the end of the working day and a chance to rest. But more importantly it offered the chance to eat. If they were to remain in their private quarters following the triple bell, how were they supposed to eat? “The Second Regulation.
There will be no break between working shifts.” The initial mumblings from the crowd were beginning to swell into something more meaningful as the residents of Delta Tower started to understand the implications of the new regulations. Those who had previously held out hopes for improved conditions became tearful, and those who had assumed the worst became aggrieved. Leonard was one of them, and the knuckles of his crooked fist pushed into the soft flesh of his other hand. The Comrades were oblivious to the crowd. They didn’t appreciate the strength of a disenchanted mob. But the Guardians who knew Delta Tower were not about to make the same mistake, and most of them pulled out their Assisters. “The Third Regulation. A third working shift will begin and follow on from the end of the second.” Anger surged through the crowd and Leonard felt bodies knocking him from behind. “The Fourth Regulation,” the Comrade said, his voice raised, but somehow less certain than before. His eyes scanned the crowd, and for the first time they looked cautious. “Food rations will be condensed into a single meal to be taken before the beginning of the first shift.” Leonard was sure he could hear the thudding of Assisters on the outskirts of the crowd, and there was shouting coming from the corridor. The Comrade spluttered out his last words. “The Fifth and final regulation. Water rations will be halved until further notice. These regulations will be followed by all citizens for the good of all as required by the fifth creed of the Omega Manifesto.”

  Leonard didn’t expect that a single person in the Food Hall had heard the fifth regulation. He was listening but he barely heard it himself. But right then, just as the Comrade lowered his glass panel, abandoning his plan to read the new regulations a second time, a Delta resident stepped up onto the table behind him, his face covered in tattoos. Leonard’s first thought was that one of the Comrades would take him out. There were more than enough carrying a gun. The thing was, it all happened so soon. The tattooed man plunged a shard of broken glass into the side of the Comrades neck. The glass panel tumbled to the floor, smashing into thousands of minute pieces. The man with the tattooed face roared like a lion as the murdered Comrade slipped from the table. The crowd swamped the body, tearing at it like a pack of wild animals, spilling his blood on the dirty floor. Another Comrade readied his gun, sinking a bullet in the forehead of the attacker. If there had been any doubt about what had happened, the second, third, and fourth bullets that were driven into his chest confirmed his death.

  Leonard could not see what happened next, but the chaos spread like wildfire from the Food Hall throughout the other levels. Every Comrade and every Guardian raised their Assister or gun. The residents grabbed what they could. Some protected themselves with upturned chairs. Some made a poor effort with cutlery. Some ran. For what felt like several minutes Leonard was tossed about between scrambling bodies. At some point somebody punched him in the face. He had just got in the way of a stray fist but it was enough to topple him to his knees. He tried to crawl away through the bodies but was soon hauled to his feet by a Guardian. It was Sam, the same Guardian who had promised Serena that he would get a message to the old man. The same Guardian who had never bothered once he knew that she was pregnant and on the run. Instead, he told her that Leonard was fine without ever really knowing it. Now he had him held in one hand, light enough to pick up like a small child by the back of the collar.

  “You are Leonard, right?” He was sure that this was him. He had seen Zack with him before. But the man looked older, frail in a way that he didn’t remember. How long had it been since he had seen him?

  Leonard fought to get free. He wriggled as hard as he could, and realised that he was right on the edge of the Food Hall. The corridor was just up ahead, if only he could break free.

  “Stop fighting me,” said Sam as he let his Assister hang from its loop on his wrist so that he had two free hands. He used them both to grip Leonard’s overall. “I said stop fighting me.” Sam could see that it was no good. The old man was in no mood to go down without a fight. Sam raised his right elbow and brought it round so it struck Leonard in the side of the temple. Leonard flopped to the floor, limp and immobile. Sam grabbed the back of his collar and began dragging Leonard along the floor. When one of the other Guardians brought his hand up to Sam’s chest he smiled and let out a little laugh. “I’m going to have some fun with this one,” Sam said, and the other Guardian removed his hand. “You guys have got the rest under control. This one owes me.” Sam dragged him away down the corridor leaving the sounds of the Food Hall behind.

  The first thing Leonard noticed when he woke up from another version of the same nightmare was the silence. Even after the triple bell when the whole of the tower was supposed to be resting there was never such a thing as silence. It was dark, even darker than usual. He stood up from his bed and walked with bare feet towards the door, the chill of the floor shooting like lightning across his skin. He grabbed the cloth from his water bucket and used it to wipe over his sweaty face. He tossed it back down and opened his door just a crack, and tried to remember why the left side of his head hurt so much.

  What he saw were blank television screens. Bodies of Guardians and residents on the floor. He closed the door behind him and looked out at the grey clouds. There was a distant memory of an announcement, followed by a fight. He remembered that at one point he was on his knees trying to crawl away, knowing that he was too old to fight for himself. The next thing he remembered was waking up here in his room.

  But how did he get here?

  In his mind there was the tiniest flicker of memory. The face of a Guardian who said his name. The flicker grew and he remembered how the Guardian dragged him to his room. He remembered as he peered over him. Didn’t he say something about Zack? Something about the windows? But his head was throbbing and he couldn’t remember clearly, and as he let go of the door handle he felt himself fall to the floor. Then the flicker of light went out and everything was black.

  Chapter Sixty One

  In the hours between asking her father to either find Zack or organise her Denunciation Ceremony, Emily vacillated between two possible outcomes. She decided that the first outcome - that her father would fail her by keeping Zack hidden - would render staying in Omega Tower, or wherever it was that they were supposed to be relocating to, impossible. To know that her father really didn’t care for how she felt would make it unthinkable to stay. The second option was that her father would relent and do the right thing, but that Zack himself would not go along with the plan. This second version was equally unpalatable, but was also a definitive route to Zack’s death. The hope that they could pull this plan off began to feel flippant and arrogant, if not just plain stupid. Emily looked in the mirror at her wig and her fancy Omega-style clothes, certain that all she was really doing was wasting time and putting even more people at risk. She was in the middle of snatching up her tartan bag and planning a different escape with Zack when Margareta knocked the door. She opened it and walked in without invitation. Fortunately she was so self-involved with her own entrance that she didn’t notice Emily hide the bag under the sheets of her bed.

  “Emily, darling.” Margareta sat down on the edge of the bed without making eye contact. She crossed her leg over her knee and turned to face Emily who couldn’t even find the strength to back away. She was frozen to the spot as Margareta looked at her as if she was seeing her face for the first time, only now taking in her features. Emily reached up to pull off her wig, suddenly feeling out of character and nervous. “No, no,” Margareta said as she took Emily’s hands into her icy palms. Margareta was as cold as death, and yet it was far from cold in her room. “Leave it on. He is here, and you don’t want him to see you like that.” Margareta motioned to the half head of hair underneath the wig.

  “Who is here?” Emily asked, snatching her hands away. She was glad of that burst of energy, the inherent fight she had within her surfacing. It calmed her nerves as Margareta began to smile.

  “Who is here?” Margareta mocked, expelling a breathy little giggle. “The man in que
stion. He is sitting in the lobby with your father, waiting for you.” Margareta stood up and straightened Emily’s wig, brushing the strands into place. “I’m so glad that you feel comfortable enough with me now to take my lipstick from my bedside drawer,” Margareta continued as she ran her thumb along the outline of Emily’s upper lip. “Perhaps finally you understand. Perhaps now you can submit, just as I learned to do long ago.” Margareta strutted towards the door, pulling it wide so that the flicker of lights and hushed voices from the lobby flickered through. Emily stood up and fidgeted with her dress. If Margareta had intended to unnerve her, she had done a fine job.

  From within the shadow of the corridor Emily could see Zack sitting on a plush occasional chair. Somebody had positioned a small glass table next to him and there were two glasses on top filled with some sort of coloured water. One was pink, the other green. The green was half drunk. He was sitting with his hands in his lap, his fingers working at the skin of his thumbs, pulling at some kind of flaw. She felt her heart rate quicken, and she strode towards him. But as she got closer and his face became clearer she saw the wounds. The split in his lip. The black eyes. The uncomfortable way his breathing rocked his upper body. He was nodding along to something that her father was saying. She charged towards him, ignoring the two Guardians standing behind Zack. She threw herself at him, falling to her knees as she wobbled on the heels that she wasn’t used to wearing. Zack half caught her upper body but she saw the pain rip through him as he made a sudden movement. She wrapped her arms around him and pushed him back into the chair. She kissed him over and over, burying her face into his cheek and nuzzling at his ear where she whispered, “play along, play along.”