by Amos Cassidy
“Fuck!” Ryder clenched and pressed himself back against the wall.
I did the same.
The chanting grew louder, and then they appeared around the bend. Twelve hooded figures, their robes of the deepest crimson, threadbare in places but thick enough to withstand a few hundred washes.
They were led by Mother Barbara. She inclined her head in our direction as she passed but didn’t falter in her chanting. The others followed, their eyes on the ground, hoods up to obscure their faces.
We waited until they vanished around the corner, and then Ryder pushed off the wall.
“Seriously!”
“Ryder!” I was shocked by his increasingly hostile attitude toward the The Order of the Mother. She did, after all, save humanity by bringing us to Shelter, rescuing us from the Shadowlanders hungry for our flesh. Not Barbara, herself, but the real Mother; the robed figure that had appeared in the midst of the chaos and led those of us who would heed her to safety. Well, that’s what the stories said, of course, and there were plenty alive who could attest to their truth.
Barbara, however, was special because the Mother had spoken to her, giving her the Word. It was the Word that ruled us. It was the Word we lived by.
“Fucking bollocks if you ask me,” Ryder muttered.
We passed the dining hall and walked up to the doors leading that opened to the steps that led to the Eye.
I didn’t need to ask what he was on about. I knew he thought the Word was crap made up by the Mother to keep us locked in our little pocket of reality. Ryder believed that the Mother was one of them, and we were just cattle that had been rounded up for later consumption. Sometimes I wondered if he was right, if we were all gullible fools waiting to be picked off at the Shadowlander’s leisure.
We climbed the metal staircase leading to the Eye. A short platform ended at a door, and we pushed through to find the others waiting.
Bernadette rolled her eyes and tapped her wrist. She wasn’t wearing a watch, but she was the Anchor, the time keeper, so I guess it counted. She was already suited up and ready to go. A head taller than Ryder and pure muscle, Bernadette was a force to be reckoned with.
Fred and George were buckling on their harnesses. Both were wiry, dark-haired, with brown eyes, and were often mistaken for siblings, much to George’s exasperation. Fred was the only person I knew that could piss George off without even trying.
I quickly joined Ryder in grabbing mine and slipping it over my black, long sleeved T-shirt. I made sure the buckles were super tight. We hadn’t lost a Reaper yet, and I wasn’t about to be the first. I pulled out the earpiece tucked into the pocket and slipped it on. It contained a shortwave radio that allowed the team to stay in contact when we were over the Horizon. It didn’t help with communication to the Eye, though; when we were out there, we were alone.
“You’re good to go,” Blake said from his position at the Eye.
Screen upon screen of grainy footage from above lay before him. He scanned it all expertly, spotting trouble spots, threats . . . them.
He looked tired. I wanted to give him a hug, but here, in the Eye, he was the boss. I could see the Horizon on more than one of those screens, shimmering and glorious, the only bright spot in this otherwise grey world. My body ached for it, and I shivered in anticipation of the crossing.
Ryder shoved my gun into my hand. “It’s charged.”
“Thanks.” I slipped it into the harness at my waist and hoped I didn’t have to use it. Ryder handed me a backpack.
“What, are you her bitch now?” Fred said.
Ryder shot him a lethal glare.
Fred was a dick, plain and simple, but he was a damn good Reaper, which was the only reason I hadn’t knocked out his teeth yet. Although . . . did he really need his teeth to reap?
I opened up my backpack to check on Baby. She was tucked up snugly in her holster. I’d found her on my first trip into the Cusp, and Clay had customised her to act like a long-range stun gun. I hadn’t used her yet. I was saving her for a special occasion.
“All set, let’s move out,” George said. Forever the peacemaker, the voice of reason, and a truly stand-up guy. I could imagine that being etched on his gravestone, not that we had those anymore. Cremation was easier, cleaner. Less chance of disease that way.
We entered the hatch that led to the surface and began to climb. Fred first, then George, Ryder, me, then Bernadette made up the rear. The whirr of the lock disengaging was followed by a gust of air so sweet that it made my head spin.
It was their air, contaminating ours, seductive and alluring. I shook my head and took Ryder’s hand as he hauled me out of the hatch. My boots touched earth, and I allowed myself a moment to take it in—the greys, browns, and blacks—the heavy dark sky and the shimmering veil less than a mile ahead of us.
We set off.
“East quarter, people,” George said. “Been a while since we tapped it. Could have missed something.”
“Hardly!” Fred said. “We’ve picked the shit outta the Cusp. We need to go farther.”
He was right; we all knew it, and no one argued.
Bernadette was the first to break the thoughtful silence. “I spoke to Finn about it. He agrees.”
My eyes widened in surprise. Finn was one of the senior members of the council. He was older than us all by about ten years and totally aloof and unapproachable.
“You spoke to Finn? How? When?”
Bernadette snorted. “With my mouth, and just after we finished fucking for the third time.”
Wow! What the hell could I say to that?
Ryder chuckled. “You got balls, Bernadette, I give you that.”
Bernadette slanted a look in his direction. “Guys are predictable, and we needed someone on the council to listen. Now we got that ear, we should see some action. Looks like Blake’s been keeping secrets too. Finn had no idea about the rise in critter activity.”
I shuddered. Yep, those suckers were disgusting, all shapes and sizes with only one thing in common: being insectlike. As if summoned by my thought, skitters filled the air to my left.
“Aw, shit,” Ryder said.
We pulled out our batons and flicked the switch to light them up. Something dark flew at my head, and I brought my baton up to thwack it, but Ryder got there first, shooting me a cheeky grin over his shoulder.
My hero.
Bernadette cursed as she stomped on something over and over. “Why. Won’t. You. Die!”
Fred laughed and joined her, zapping the critter with his baton. The thing shuddered and lay still. Twelve legs; that was a first.
Fred was waving his baton in Bernadette’s face. “Use your baton, that’s what it’s for.”
Stupid idiot, he’d obviously forgotten who he was speaking to.
Bernadette grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up into the air.
Fred’s eyes went saucer-wide. Yep, he remembered now.
“I was saving the charge, you twat,” she said and then dropped him on the critter.
Fred squealed as Ryder laughed.
I scanned the earth around us, fractured and dead and empty. No critters, just broken buildings, rusted vehicles, and memories of a lost time.
“Come on, we got work to do.”
***
We were up close and personal with the Horizon. It rose up into the sky like a wall of static. In the early days, we’d tried to send planes over the top, but none had returned. There’d been speculation; was it a force field of some kind, some sort of alien technology? Was it a portal to another dimension? So many theories and no time to figure it out because they had swept in, killing, raping, taking. What was left of the government had fallen. It became each man for himself.
I didn’t remember any of this, I was just a baby, but Dad told the story so many times throughout our childhood that sometimes I felt like I’d been there, like I did see it happen. He told us about the Mother sweeping in and leading so many away. He told us how Mum and he hid from her,
afraid that it was a trick. The Mother was one of them, why would she help us? He told us how the Shadowlanders that looked like us had left then, and how what was left of humanity waited for them to return, but they never had. Instead, we were left here to rot, to starve, to fight among ourselves for the last scrap of food. By the time Mum and Dad realised that there was a Shelter, the only way to gain admittance was to enlist as a Reaper. Neither was willing to let the other take the risk, and so we lived like animals.
“Ashling!” Bernadette tapped the port on her suit.
I tore my eyes away from the barrier that kept us prisoner in our own world and unzipped the pocket at the side of my harness. I grabbed the line tucked inside and pulled. I passed her the end and she screwed my line into the port on her suit and then nodded.
It was a primitive setup. Just ropes really, attached to someone who would stay behind as an Anchor. Bernadette was the obvious choice. No one questioned it, because we all wanted to live, and we knew Bernadette would haul us back. She had help—the winch. It was a mechanical contraption that could haul a Reaper back at super speed. All a Reaper needed to do was give her the distress signal, and all Bernadette needed to do was attach the rope to the machine and hit a button.
“Comms on,” George said, and we all complied by flipping the switch on our earpieces.
Bernadette held up her wrist. “Thirty minutes, people. That’s all you get. I tug, you come. Got it?”
“Got it!” We all said in unison.
Ryder joined me in front of the Horizon. “You ready scamp?”
I nodded. “Always.”
We stepped through.
The first time I’d gone through the Horizon, I’d expected it to feel gloopy, thick, and viscous. I’d screwed up my eyes and pressed my lips together, afraid it would somehow get inside me. But it was nothing like that. Walking through the Horizon was like walking through air. It was like stepping from one point to another, and yet, the air on the other side felt heavier, denser. It was as if the laws of gravity were different here. Walking required more effort, and thirty minutes wouldn’t be enough. We all knew it, just like we knew that any longer and we risked detection by the Shadowlanders.
The sky here was the same, gloomy, grey, and low. A thin mist hung in the air, but it was the buildings that always amazed me. Twisted and bent, standing at impossible angles, they defied the laws of physics. Not that I knew any physics, but I’d heard Ryder use the phrase once or twice, and he’d kind of explained it to me. I’d nodded like I understood.
I’d seen the old maps, so I knew that this part of the city would have been Shoreditch. I knew what should be here. I’d seen pictures in old tourist brochures collected from gift shops in the place once called Trafalgar Square. This was a new London. It was their London now.
We still didn’t know what the Shadowlanders were.. I’d never seen one myself, but from what the Order of the Mother described, they looked humanoid, except they had other characteristics, animalistic and insectile, reptilian and amphibian. They were terrible and horrific and bestial, all except the Mother, who’d taken pity on our plight and saved us.
“Stop daydreaming, Ash, and let’s get to it,” Ryder said.
We began to trudge. My boots seemed to stick to the ground as gravity held us down. The sky was darker here, the clouds low overhead. It made me feel claustrophobic.
Ryder nudged me. “You okay, scamp?”
“I’m fine.” But I so wasn’t. I could feel the sweat breaking out across my brow—the nape of my neck was soaked.
Even though I longed to cross the Horizon, I couldn’t shake the feeling of claustrophobia that always gripped me upon first entry. I lived underground, you couldn’t get more closed in than that, yet here I was in an open space afraid of clouds pressing down on me.
I suspected Ryder knew, but he did a good job of not making an issue of it. I loved him for that.
Loved.
Shit, I mean, I liked him for it. Liked him a lot.
“I’m taking west, you go east,” Ryder said.
It didn’t matter. The ground could shift at any moment, and I could end up in the south and he could end up north or, as had happened once, we could end up side by side. Yeah, that had been weird. The ropes kept us tethered, though. The ropes were essential.
He held up his fist. I bumped it with mine, and we stepped away from each other. I’d gone two feet when my earpiece crackled.
“Keep to time, scamp,” Ryder said. “We don’t want to risk detection.”
“I know.” It was his protectiveness that made me think that there could be more between us, but he went through women like dirty socks and had recently begun recycling them—small population and all.
A building loomed out of the mist, tall, at least four stories. It leaned to the side as if it were thinking about laying down and taking a nap.
I approached and stepped through the black, gaping doorway into what once must have been a reception area. The walls had deep cracks running through them—the whole building looked like it was about to come down.
The grey was like a sickness crawling over everything, infecting it like mold. I contemplated making a hasty exit, but something caught my eye: a flash of brightness in the monochrome environment. To the left of the large front desk was a waiting area with comfy chairs, a low table, and a pile of colourful magazines untouched by the crawling shadow, as if somehow immune to the darkness. I loved magazines, and these looked to be in great condition. I slung my backpack off my shoulders and scooped up a couple before putting them in. I eyed the pile. I really wanted to take them all, but I needed to save room in my pack for more important things. I sighed and turned away.
An archway to the right of the front desk led to a stairwell. One look told me I wouldn’t be exploring any higher. The stairwell had been turned upside down, twisted and cracked. There was a lift but it was useless without power.
I stepped back into the reception area and took the arch to the left of the waiting room into a long corridor lined with doors.
Time to do some scouring.
A thorough, but quick, examination of the downstairs rooms told me this used to be some kind of clinic. There were charts on the wall showcasing images of the human body and its inner workings. I found a first aid kit in one of the drawers and some syringes, but anything else that may have been of use was gone.
My earpiece crackled.
“Exit time, people!” Bernadette’s voice cracked with static.
Great. My heart plummeted. I hadn’t found anything of real use.
“Scamp, you there?” Ryder’s voice was tight and clear as a bell.
My veins filled with ice. I knew that tone. He was in trouble.
“Ryder? You okay?”
“Yeah, just making sure you got Bernadette’s message. I’ll see you on the other side.”
My earpiece went silent.
I stood there for a long beat, my heart racing. Something wasn’t right. He’d sounded off.
My earpiece crackled again, and I was on the move even before I heard Bernadette’s impatient voice on the other side.
Finding my way out was easy. I just followed my rope, and I was at Horizon in no time. My rope swung in midair, vanishing into the shimmering veil. There was only one other line still out. My stomach knotted.
I tapped my comm. “Hey, anyone there? Ryder?”
“Ash? Where the fuck are you guys?” Bernadette said.
“I’m here, Bernadette, just coming through. Is Ryder with you?”
“Negative. Thought he was with you. We’re all here, good to go.”
Something was wrong. “Have you spoken to him?”
“He checked in about—what the fuck!”
I gasped as the other rope, Ryder’s rope, went crazy, bobbing and swinging from side to side and then going taut.
Bernadette cursed through the comm. “I can’t detach and haul. There’s too much resistance.”
Fred’s voice cut through h
er curses loud and clear. “Fucking cut him loose!”
Ryder was in trouble. My eyes went to his rope and then to the Horizon. Protocol was clear; in the event that a Reaper was compromised, they were to be cut loose. Protocol was there for a reason, but this was Ryder.
“Don’t you fucking dare, Bernie!” I said.
“Dammit, Ash! You think I want to do this?” She yelped and then she was emerging from the Horizon, her hands wrapped around Ryder’s line, holding on for dear life, her heels skidding on the blackened earth. “Fuck, it’s too strong I have to let him go. If I don’t, he’s taking me with him, or he’s leading whatever has him right to us. We have to let him go, Ash.”
She was right, so right, but I couldn’t let him go. I wouldn’t let him go. I acted without thinking. I grasped Ryder’s lead at the port, twisted, pulled and slammed the flat of my palm into Bernadette’s chest hard enough to send her flying backward through the Horizon.
Then I was flying; being yanked away from the Horizon toward whatever shit Ryder was in.
I should have been terrified, but there was no time to let fear in as the dismal landscape rushed past in a blur, stealing my breath and making my eyes sting. I hit the ground, rolled, came up on my feet, and narrowly avoided tripping on Ryder’s rope. It lay limp on the ground. The resistance was gone.
My chest ached with foreboding.
“Ryder!” I knew it was stupid, drawing attention to myself like that, but I was past caring. The thought of Ryder being hurt, being . . . dead. It felt as if someone had gauged out my heart leaving a gaping hole filled with pain.
“Ryder! Please!” I fell to my knees, my vision blurred as hot tears stung my eyes. I saw the empty, gaping buildings shimmering through my tears. Residential buildings, once home to humans, home to us. There were lampposts lining the streets, bent and twisted at odd angles as if someone had begun to melt them but changed their minds.
I jerked as the rope attached to my harness grew taut.
Bernadette.
I hit the comm at my ear. “I’m okay.”
I was rewarded with static. Shit, I was probably out of range, which meant . . . I swallowed and pulled myself off the ground. It meant that the Shadowlands proper was just ahead. Now that I was looking closer, I could see it, the change in the air. The purple hue in the grey mist that indicated the second veil, the Beyond, was way too close.
