by Gavin Zanker
As Leigh walked over and roused Hitch, Aiden watched Grace in the booth as she took a seat beside her assistant, Robin. He doubted Leigh was right about her. Besides, even if Grace was interested in him, it didn’t matter. She’d never leave the city, and he wouldn’t be happy living here. He turned to see Leigh ruffling Hitch’s fur as the dog climbed off the seat and yawned widely. Aiden had plenty of company these days anyway.
CHAPTER 12
THE MARKET IN Oldtown covered the open square that lay before the multi-storey town hall. Leigh pointed out the large windows and columns, describing it as the fanciest building she had ever seen. According to a snippet of conversation Aiden had overheard on his way down into the city, the Mayor didn’t make too many public appearances these days, instead preferring to stay inside. Though judging by the numerous police officers who stood guard outside the town hall and patrolled through the market, he still had plenty of eyes throughout the city.
As Aiden led the way to the edge of the market, a grey rat scuttled over Leigh’s foot causing her to jump back in alarm. Hitch barked at the rodent, sending it scurrying down an alley and out of sight behind a rusted skip.
‘Don’t let it get away!’ a young scruffy-looking boy shouted, as he sprinted after the rat with a battered chair leg in his hand. He dived into the skip, disappearing from view entirely.
‘Why was he chasing a rat?’ Leigh asked, confused at the sight.
‘Probably dinner,’ Aiden said, wiping his forehead. There wasn’t much of a breeze here and the market was sweltering because of the mass of bodies. ‘Or maybe he works for one of the food vendors, earning a few tokens for each rodent he catches.’
Leigh stuck out her tongue. ‘I didn’t know people ate rats. That’s gross. I wonder what they taste like.’
‘Hope you never have to find out,’ Aiden said. He pulled off his sunglasses and looked Leigh up and down: the ripped blue jeans, the faded t-shirt, and his spare shirt which draped down to cover the tops of her legs. ‘We need to get you some more practical clothes,’ he said.
‘I liked that jacket you gave me,’ Leigh said, rolling the sleeves of the shirt up as they fell down her arms again.
‘There’s plenty of clothes shops around here. Want to take a look?’
Leigh nodded enthusiastically, and they made their way into the market. The press of bodies made Aiden uncomfortable, and he did his best to avoid the worst of the crowds. They soon came across a stall with racks of mismatched clothes run by a pencil-thin woman.
‘Can I help you, love?’ she asked, chewing on her nails.
‘I’m just looking for some clothes for this one,’ Aiden said, gesturing to Leigh.
‘Try the rack on the end,’ the woman said. ‘That’s where I keep the little’uns stuff.’
Hitch sniffed around the musty clothes while Aiden searched through the racks. Most of the clothes were rags, but he did find a pair of old work trousers with plenty of pockets that looked like they would fit her, as well as a lightweight black fleece pullover with only one hole in the sleeve. There was no need to buy her new shoes now she was wearing the trainers Sharon had given her.
Aiden paid for the clothes then guided the three of them away from the crowds, stepping into the empty space beside a row of low-roofed buildings constructed from corrugated iron. ‘Let’s rest here a minute,’ he said, trying to ignore the smell of the nearby garbage heaped against one of the walls.
‘Can I wear these now?’ Leigh asked hopefully, hugging the plastic bag bulging with clothes to her chest.
‘You can if you want to change in front of the entire world.’
She paused, then deflated slightly. ‘I’ll wait. It looks like Hitch is hungry by the way.’
Aiden looked down at the border collie who was sniffing around the pile, his muzzle pushing through greasy napkins and discarded rubbish. There was no food left in Aiden’s pack and they hadn’t picked up any supplies yet. He could get by on little food when he needed to, but he didn’t like to deprive Hitch.
‘You want to make yourself useful?’ he asked, turning to Leigh.
‘Sure,’ she said, jumping to attention. ‘What do you need?’
‘Take these tokens,’ Aiden said, taking the bad from her and dropping a handful of coins into her palm. ‘Run over to that vendor over there and buy some cooked meat for Hitch. Don’t buy anything that looks… rattish.’
Leigh smiled and ran off to do as he asked. Aiden leaned against the wall and watched the throngs of different people move around the market for a while. A chicken escaped from the cage of a livestock dealer causing mayhem as it flapped around. Aiden watched it with amusement, finding himself silently rooting for the chicken as people fell over each other trying to capture it.
Leigh soon returned with some skewered meat. ‘It smells good,’ she said. ‘Shall I feed him?’
‘Go ahead,’ Aiden said. ‘We’ll get something for ourselves later.’
Leigh knelt down and started breaking off pieces of the meat for Hitch, tossing them in the air for him to catch. Aiden glanced around, catching sight of some graffiti painted onto one of the corrugated iron walls nearby. He recognised the simple lines depicting the rising sun that the Dawnists used as their icon.
‘I saw one of those sun thingies earlier,’ Leigh said, coming alongside him and wiping her hands on her jeans, ‘when we came down the stairs from the surface.’
‘Do you know what it is?’ Aiden asked.
Leigh shook her head. ‘Never seen it ‘til today. It’s neat though. What does it mean?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Aiden said with a frown. ‘But it can’t be good.’
Sprayed underneath the symbol in crimson red letters was one word.
Repent.
AIDEN PUSHED OPEN the door welded together from metal panels, causing a bell to ring somewhere overhead as he entered. Leigh wandered off immediately with Hitch, and he lost sight of them somewhere between the dusty shelves which were stacked with assorted electronics: circuit boards, switches, wiring, and exotic looking parts that Aiden didn’t recognise. Bundles of coiled wires and the occasional hub cap hung from the ceiling on hooks, while a radio broadcast quietly from somewhere in the shop.
‘What can I do for you?’ the man behind the counter called out. He had grey streaks running through his thin hair and was hunched over the counter, peering over his round glasses at something unrecognisable under a desk lamp.
‘Are you Orlen?’ Aiden asked, stepping up to the counter.
‘I am, and I’ll ask you again, what can I do for you? If you aren’t here to buy, then you know where the door is. I’ve got a lot of work to do and no patience for time wasters.’
‘Grace told me to stop by if I needed any work done.’
‘Oh Gracie sent you? Well why didn’t you say?’ Orlen said, his tone becoming less prickly. He picked up a soldering iron and began prodding at the device on the counter. A wisp of smoke rose, and the tangy scent of heated metal quickly filled the shop. ‘Well don’t just stand there gawking,’ Orlen said without looking up. ‘What’s your name, sonny, and what is it you need?’
‘The name’s Aiden. I’m having some trouble with my batteries.’ He swung his pack down and pulled out a handful of batteries which he collected on the counter.
Orlen peered down at them over the top of his glasses, nodding slightly as he examined each one. ‘No leakage. A little wear but nothing serious. They look to be in good condition.’
‘So any idea what’s wrong with them?’
‘You tried charging them?’
‘Let’s save ourselves some time and just pretend I’m not an idiot.’
Orlen smirked. ‘Fair enough, but you’d be amazed at some of the rubbish that people bring in here, dropping corroded rods on the counter and asking me to put a charge in them like I’m some sort of magician.’ Orlen scratched the white stubble that lined his cheeks. ‘These batteries are probably just old. Eventually they all wear out, no matter how we
ll you look after them. Just like all of us really.’
Aiden rubbed the back of his neck. ‘All right, looks like I’m going to need some new batteries. You stock any?’
‘I can do you batteries. You after the same size?’ Orlen asked as he reached under the counter and pulled out a cardboard box filled with assorted batteries.
‘That’s right.’ Aiden pointed to a crate of fuses behind the counter. ‘I need some fuses too.’
‘Not much call for them these days. Most people hook directly into the city lines without a second thought. One power surge and half the electronics in the city will overload.’ Orlen moved the crate onto the counter with a grunt. ‘Well have your pick, there’s all sorts in there.’
‘They all work?’ Aiden asked as he looked through the crate, finding a handful of fuses rated for what he had in mind.
‘Of course,’ Orlen said, his tone stern. ‘And I don’t appreciate you implying otherwise.’
‘Mister, what’s this?’ Leigh interrupted, appearing from behind a shelf with a small metal object in her palm.
‘That’s an old music box, young lady. It plays beautiful music when you wind it up.’ He glanced at Aiden and smiled with little joy. ‘Not much use for that kind of thing these days though. I doubt anyone even remembers how to put something that complex together anymore.’
Leigh brought it over to the counter. ‘Can you show me?’
‘You just turn up this little handle here,’ Orlen said winding the box, ‘and then the rotating drum inside plucks the metal comb, see?’ A soothing tune like an old lullaby started playing from the small box.
‘That’s amazing,’ Leigh said, her eyes wide. Orlen handed it back to her and she held it to her ear as she began dancing around the shop.
‘Looks like you’re buying a music box along with your batteries,’ Orlen said to Aiden with a wry smile.
Aiden sighed. ‘Yeah, it looks like you’re right. How much for everything then?’
Orlen glanced down at the batteries, his lips moving silently. ‘Twenty for the batteries. I’ll give you a discount on the music box since it’s nice to see it appreciated, so call that ten. And then another five for the fuses.’
‘That’s more than I hoped to spend,’ Aiden said as he counted out the money and handed it to Orlen.
‘Electronics are getting rarer these days. The problem is no one produces this stuff anymore. But you buy from me and everything’s guaranteed to work. Any problems, bring them back here and I’ll take a look for you.’
‘Oh, while I’m here,’ Aiden said remembering the decoder and pulling it out of his pocket, ‘any idea what this is?’
Orlen took it from him, sniffing loudly. ‘Can’t say I’ve seen one before,’ he said holding it under the light. ‘Looks like a key. I can’t imagine what it slots into though, looks too big to fit a car.’
‘All right, never mind.’ Aiden took the decoder back and zipped it into his pack. ‘Thanks anyway.’
‘Pleasure,’ Orlen said, returning to his soldering. ‘Aiden was it? Hope to see you again.’
As Aiden stashed the electronics into his pack, the radio playing in the background caught his attention. He recognised Grace’s voice reading a news report.
‘Tensions are still on the rise in the city as police and Syndicate forces clashed in the Rusts yesterday. The armed conflict escalated into a gunfight which resulted in several civilian casualties.
‘We had the opportunity to interview Julian Caldwell, spokesman for the Syndicate, as well as Catherine Reinhold, wife of Mayor Reinhold, earlier today. This is what Mr Caldwell had to say. “The incident was the regrettable result of heavy handed police work. Rest assured that the Syndicate expects no further incidents providing Mayor Reinhold can keep a leash on his bloodthirsty officers.”
‘If you missed the live interview with Mr. Caldwell and Catherine Reinhold, you can hear a rebroadcast later today, so stay tuned folks.’
Aiden shouldered his pack and called Leigh who was still wandering amid the shelves with Hitch. ‘We’re off now,’ he said. ‘We still need to pick up some supplies. Oh, and you can keep the music box.’
Leigh ran up and briefly hugged him, called out a thanks to the shopkeeper, then danced out through the door causing the bell to jingle again. Hitch paused, tilting his head and making his ears flop slightly as he looked up at Aiden.
‘Don’t look at me,’ Aiden said, shaking his head, ‘you’re the one that’s taken such a shine to her.’
Hitch padded out through the open door and Aiden followed them both back out into the market.
‘YOU SHOULD PUT that away now,’ Aiden told Leigh as she wound the music box yet again. ‘Having it out here will just draw attention to us.’
Leigh’s smile faded, but she nodded and slipped the box into the pocket of her tattered jeans as they skirted the edge of the market. ‘So where are we heading next? Are we going to eat soon?’ She leaned over and scratched Hitch’s ear. ‘Hitch might be full, but I’m starving.’
‘We will soon. First we need to pick up some supplies for the journey home.’
‘Okay,’ she said, her toothy smile returning. ‘Wait, where’s home?’
Aiden fell silent as they passed a grimy alleyway where a blue-uniformed police officer stood. Stealing a glance past him, Aiden saw a blur of more blue uniforms crowding around a fallen man. The sound of boots drumming someone’s ribs echoed out of the alley.
‘Keep walking,’ the officer growled, glaring at Aiden from under his visor.
Aiden strode past without a word, knowing better than to try and intervene. He grabbed Leigh’s arm and pulled her along as she craned her neck to get a better view. ‘Stay close, I’m tired of telling you,’ he said, his tone short. He could feel his mood darkening instantly after witnessing the abuse.
They soon came to a small grocery shop on the edge of the market and Aiden led them inside. The shop was brightly lit, but the harsh fluorescent bulbs only served to highlight how bare the aisles were.
‘No touching this time,’ Aiden warned as he removed his sunglasses and pointed to a sign that read THIEVES WILL BE SHOT in scrawled capitals. ‘You might get away with music boxes, but people won’t be so forgiving of you touching their food.’ Leigh stuck her tongue out, but did as he said and followed close behind.
Aiden walked along the aisle of rickety shelves. He ignored the questionable fungus that was probably grown in the basement, instead grabbing a pack of oats, some flour, a small bottle of oil, and some smoked chicken sealed in plastic. He dropped the items on the counter where a dull-eyed woman wearing a dirty apron sat. She added up the prices slowly on her fingers. The cost was criminal, but the journey north would be long and Aiden didn’t want to deprive either Hitch or Leigh. Counting out the tokens onto the counter, Aiden thanked the woman as Leigh packed the supplies into a paper bag and carried them outside.
Emerging back into the market, Aiden put on his sunglasses against the glaring sun beaming down into the canyon. He noticed a small crowd had formed nearby, clustered around a man who paced back and forth as he addressed the people in a rising tone.
‘The Second Event is coming, you know it’s true!’ the speaker shouted. ‘The only path to salvation is to return to the old ways. Repent your sins, and throw yourselves upon the mercy of the true gods, the ancient ones who visited their wrath down upon us for our arrogance. Only dropping to your knees and begging forgiveness will save you from their fury.’
‘What does all that mean?’ Leigh asked as the crowd murmured amongst themselves. ‘He sounds angry about something.’
‘It means…’ Aiden paused, realising he had no idea what Leigh knew about religion. ‘It means he believes something without needing to see evidence first,’ he said, trying his best not to sound cynical and failing. ‘Here, pass me the food.’
Leigh creased her forehead as she handed over the paper bag. ‘Without seeing evidence,’ she repeated slowly. ‘You mean like the wind?’
>
‘The wind?’ Aiden unshouldered his pack and knelt down to stow the food.
‘It’s like, you can’t see the wind, but you know it’s there because you can see the trees blowing about and stuff.’
‘Er, sure.’ Aiden decided this discussion was too much right now and changed the subject. ‘You know, I think I saw some eggs back in the shop,’ he said. ‘Want to run back in and grab some for breakfast tomorrow?’
‘I love eggs,’ Leigh said, her eyes lighting up.
He slipped a few coins in her hand, and she skipped back inside the shop with Hitch trailing after her. Aiden finished packing the food, and as he clipped his pack closed, someone knocked in to him from behind sending him sprawling to the floor.
‘Sorry about that, friend,’ a powerful voice said.
Aiden rose from the stone ground to find himself faced with a tall figure in a loose cotton shirt, his long brown hair pulled back and tied behind his head. Aiden recognised him instantly. It was Travis Kendrick, one of the leaders of the Dawnist church in the city. Beside him were three rough looking men with shaved heads, all wearing the rising sun emblem on their jackets.
‘I didn’t see you there, not hurt are you?’ Travis said with concern. He squinted at Aiden. ‘Hang on, don’t I know you?’
‘No I don’t think so,’ Aiden said, turning away to collect his fallen sunglasses. The last thing he needed was to dredge up history with this cultist.
Travis put his hand on Aiden’s shoulder and pulled him around to face him. ‘You were in the Seekers right?’ Travis said. ‘I remember your face. You were one of Kane’s lot.’
‘I think you have me mistaken for somebody else,’ Aiden said, slipping his sunglasses on and eyeing the crowds for an escape route.
Travis frowned, then snapped his fingers. ‘Aiden. That was it, right? Aiden Fielding.’ He chuckled to himself. ‘I remember you causing quite a bit of trouble back then, riling up the police and dragging them into our compound. Gave us quite a mess to clean up.’
