by Gavin Zanker
Woody did as he was told. ‘It’s bitter,’ he complained, scrunching up his face.
‘Don’t whine,’ the woman scolded him. ‘Man like you?’ she tutted. ‘Not right to whine.’
Aiden noticed a wiry teenage boy peering in through the open door. At his feet sat a border collie, the same breed as Hitch except with patchy brown fur rather than black and white. When the boy saw Aiden looking at him, he rushed away.
‘How did you all come to be here?’ Aiden asked, turning back to the woman.
‘Some banished from the city. Others escaped raiders. Each has their reason; you’d have to ask them.’
Aiden remembered hearing about Mayor Reinhold and his banishment ceremonies. He had never seen one, but had no reason to disbelieve the stories of residents being expelled from the Rim and sent out into the wastes to fend for themselves; it seemed to suit the Mayor’s personality.
‘You took the bullet out?’ Old Nan asked disapprovingly.
Aiden nodded.
‘Messy job.’
‘I did what I had to. I wasn’t expecting help out here.’
The woman tutted — it clearly came naturally to her. ‘Shouldn’t remove bullet. That’s just what they did in the films. Good thing Rowan found you.’
‘Rowan is the leader?’
The woman nodded. ‘One of our village council.’ She pulled out a needle and thread from her pouch. ‘This will hurt,’ she warned Woody.
‘Oh I think I can handle a few stitches,’ he said, but as she wielded the needle and started jabbing his flesh like it was a dartboard, he flinched and tried to protest.
‘Quiet,’ Old Nan said. ‘I’ve had children complain less.’
‘So you can help them?’ Aiden asked, amused.
‘This one maybe yes,’ she said tilting her head towards Woody. She glanced at Patrick. ‘That one maybe no. I try.’
Woody grimaced as she continued sewing his wound. ‘You’re Outlanders?’ he asked. ‘How long have you lived here?’
‘Less talk now. I need to work.’
Satisfied she knew what she was doing, Aiden let the woman see to his friends. He leaned against the door frame and looked out on the village. There was a buzz on the soft wind, a harmony even: birds nesting on the rooftops, trees whispering, and friendly conversations playing out between neighbours. This was a real settlement. There weren’t even any steely-eyed guards in sight. It occurred to Aiden that he had the chance to run, before these people decided what to do with him. Maybe he could make it back to the city, back to Leigh and Hitch. He glanced at his wounded friends and sighed, knowing he couldn’t leave them behind.
The boy with the dog reappeared a few minutes later, with him an elderly couple, leaning on each other as they walked. Aiden sensed he had seen them before but couldn’t quite place them.
‘Are you Aiden?’ the wispy, grey-haired woman asked as they approached, her voice as thin as paper.
‘You know me?’ Aiden asked, crossing his arms across his chest.
‘We know you,’ the man said, nodding. His face had seen many summers, a patchwork of lines and creases. ‘You knew our Faye.’
Aiden remembered then where he had seen the couple before. ‘Albert and Beverly Morning,’ he said. ‘You were Faye’s friends who took care of,’ he looked at the boy, ‘her little brother, Andrew.’
‘How is she?’ Beverly asked, a glint of hope in her eyes. ‘Are you still in contact with her? It’s been so many years since we last saw her.’
‘Too many,’ Albert agreed. ‘Not since before we were banished.’
Aiden considered lying to save their feelings, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, bowing his head. ‘She passed away… about six years ago.’
Beverly’s head turned into her husband’s shoulder.
Albert sighed deeply. ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he said, patting his wife’s back. ‘She was like a daughter to us.’
Andrew’s expression didn’t change as he heard the news. ‘How did my sister die?’ he asked, his voice not yet fully broken but still carrying a quiet confidence.
Aiden studied the boy: there was a measure of silent pain behind his eyes. ‘She was shot. It was a quick, clean death.’
‘Who shot her?’ Andrew asked.
‘A gang leader who lived in Kiln Commons, called Trent. He’s dead now too. I made sure of it.’
‘That’s something.’ Andrew tilted his head, his gaze lingering for a second. Then he turned on his heel and walked away, his dog following.
‘Don’t mind Andrew,’ Albert said. ‘He doesn’t get many playmates his own age here so he can get quite anti-social. We could use a few more young people around here to be honest; not enough of them to be getting on with the business of falling in love.’
A half-naked infant ran past, giggling as it pattered through the soft mud. Rushing after them, the father scooped the child up and scolded them gently. He saw Aiden and flashed Albert a worried look before rushing away.
‘Everyone here seems happy,’ Aiden said. ‘Though strangers don’t seem very welcome.’
‘This is a community,’ Beverly said, composing herself and wiping her eyes. ‘Our community. We look out for one another here. The way things used to be, before the Event.’
Aiden nodded. ‘I see that. But how do you survive out here? I didn’t think anyone lived this far south.’
‘We grow our own food,’ Albert said, ‘and without masses of people around to pollute, there’s plenty of clean water. We’re careful to keep to ourselves, not letting anyone who might take a sinister interest know where we are.’ Albert nodded towards Woody, who was still being stitched up by Old Nan. ‘If I could ask you a question, what are you doing here? And how did your friend come to be wounded?’
Aiden hesitated, unsure how much to trust these people. He scolded himself, noting that they were putting their trust in him. ‘His name is Woody. We came from the Rim to find the Dawnist quarry.’
Beverly and Albert shared an uncomfortable look. ‘Why would you want to go to that awful place?’ she asked.
‘You know it?’
‘We stay well away from those crazies,’ Albert said. ‘I’ve seen them over in that dusty, white hole in the ground. They run the place like an army, always shouting and drilling each other. They leave the quarry in groups sometimes, riding on those noisy bikes to hunt and forage. I got near some of them once and they started chasing me. I had to hightail it out of there. They’re an aggressive bunch, bashing everything on sight. So why were you there?’
‘That quarry has an underground tunnel that leads into their compound in the city,’ Aiden said. ‘We were trying to get inside.’
‘Sounds like suicide to me,’ Albert said. ‘You and your friends are lucky to be alive.’
‘Those people have taken over the city. We’re trying to stop them.’
‘Well, once Old Nan is done in there,’ Beverly said, ‘why don’t you come to ours and let us put you up while your friends heal? Faye always spoke so fondly of you.’
Albert nodded. ‘I’ll have a word with Rowan and let him know you can be trusted. Though he probably already guessed that since he didn’t put you under guard.’
‘He’s a good reader of people, that man,’ Beverly said. ‘I’ve always said so. We’re lucky to have him here.’
‘When you’re ready,’ Albert continued, ‘come and find us. We’ll start supper soon. Ours is the cabin with the wind chimes out front. You’ll probably find Andrew sat out on the front porch with Willow.’
‘Willow?’
‘That’s his dog. Named her after the tree he found her under as a pup. Those two have been inseparable ever since.’
‘I have a border collie too.’ Aiden paused, his thoughts turning to Leigh and Hitch, back in the Brentford. He hoped they were doing okay without him.
‘Maybe we can get them together sometime,’ Albert said. ‘Especially if he’s a boy dog; everyone would love a few
pups running around the place. So, you’ll come for supper?’
‘I would like that, thank you.’
‘Wait ‘till you taste Beverly’s cooking before you get too grateful,’ the old man said with a throaty laugh. His wife whacked him ineffectually and the two of them wandered away together arm in arm.
Aiden shook his head as if trying to wake from a dream. This village seemed too idyllic to exist, especially so close to such nightmarish places as Falkington Hospital and the quarry. A grunt of pain came from the room behind him and he turned back inside to check on his friends.
CHAPTER 41
TRAVIS CLICKED THE remote and the western disappeared from the CRT screen with a heavy, clunking sound. His collection of old films had always been a source of pride to him, never failing to cheer him up after a fight with Emily, or a sermon gone awry. Today though, he just felt hollow. Being back inside the compound with Emily nearby again made him feel a little more human, but it just wasn’t the same anymore. This place no longer felt like home.
He scratched at his throbbing arm in its sling and sighed. His office hadn’t changed in the slightest during his absence; he wondered if anyone had even been in here since he left. It was turning into a relic, just like him.
There was a knock at the door and Samuel entered, taking a seat opposite the desk without a word. This was the first time Travis had seen his old friend since leaving the city to meet the Venkarths. He caught himself tapping his fingers together under the desk and stopped.
‘I’ve heard worrying things about you of late,’ Samuel said, adjusting his glasses before placing his hands in his lap.
Straight into it then, Travis thought. ‘We haven’t spoken for weeks and that’s the first thing you say to me?’ he asked, shifting the focus from himself. ‘What happened to “hello”?’
‘Hello,’ Samuel said, bowing his head and looking slightly amused. ‘So would you care to explain your actions? I thought to give you the chance.’
Travis had already rehearsed this conversation, knowing how badly it could go for him. ‘You know I didn’t have a choice, Sam. After getting captured, working with the Syndicate was my only chance to survive.’
Samuel stared across the desk, his cold gaze unflinching. ‘I want to believe that.’
‘Why would I betray everything we’ve built? I’ve been part of this from the start, just like you.’ Travis rubbed his face, still weary from the terrifying expedition into the Sinking Dust. ‘Speaking of explaining actions, what was with you hanging me out to dry with the Venkarths? Surely you knew how that would turn out.’
The beginnings of a smirk touched Samuel’s lips. ‘There’s no need to get defensive. I didn’t know the Venkarths would be so… unpredictable. It was an oversight.’
‘Risking my life, and the lives of our men, was an oversight?’
There was a beat of silence as Samuel spread his hands. ‘It appears mistakes have been made on both sides.’
‘It certainly seems that way,’ Travis said. ‘Why are you still messing around with the Venkarths anyway? They’re an incestuous rabble. They would have killed me if not for Aiden.’
‘Ah, Aiden. I’ve heard his name come up a few times now. I met him some years ago; he seemed… competent, though I don’t remember much of our brief encounter. The Venkarths have expressed a desire to speak with him. Something about a brother he killed?’
‘That was self-defence,’ Travis said. ‘I was there, I can assure you of that. You do know they hunted us like animals?’
‘The Venkarths are powerful allies, with many acres of arable land,’ Samuel said, dodging the question. ‘The city is still being cleansed, but soon, the deserving will need basic services such as food and water. I have no intention of becoming another Reinhold to the people, letting them starve while I bloat. I am a fair man.’
‘You want to talk about fair?’ Travis said, heat flushing his face. ‘Then let’s talk about Emily.’
Samuel glanced at the photograph of the young woman on the desk, bright eyes laughing out under a large-brimmed sun hat. ‘Fair Emily. Why haven’t you been to see her yet?’
‘They wouldn’t let me inside her room,’ Travis said, his tone sharp. ‘I can only imagine that order came from you. Not everyone wants to bury their women in the past, Sam.’
Samuel’s expression darkened. As he leaned forward, Travis regretted his words immediately. ‘What happened to my mother was a tragedy. You understand? A pain that I still carry with me to this day.’
‘I spoke in anger, I shouldn’t have said anything.’
‘No, you should not,’ Samuel’s eyes blazed as he slammed his fist on the desk, the abrupt sound making Travis flinch. ‘I won’t hear you speak of this matter again. Understood?’
‘I apologise,’ Travis said, hanging his head. At the time, the sudden disappearance of Samuel’s mother had been explained as a heart attack due to old age. Travis never believed a word of it, though he had known better than to speak on the subject.
After a moment of silence, Samuel spoke again, his calm veneer returning. ‘I know how patient you have been with Emily. You shall be reunited with your wife soon. I will see to it personally.’
‘Well gee, Sam,’ Travis said, ‘that sounds a lot like you’re about to throw me into readjustment as well. Shall I expect a couple of white-coats to burst through my door tonight while I sleep?’
‘Then let me rephrase: I will bring your wife to you. Is that more to your liking?’
Travis nodded, suspicious, but at the same time relieved to hear the decision. ‘I would like to see her again very much.’
‘Like I said, I am a fair man,’ Samuel continued. ‘Despite being a woman, she’s no longer a liability, not with the Faithful now controlling the city. I see no reason for her to stay in readjustment.’
‘You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that.’
‘Actually, I believe I do.’
Travis sagged, his insides untwisting at the thought of being reunited with his wife — life might finally return to normal. ‘So tell me,’ he asked, ‘why haven’t you destroyed the rebels yet? It’s not like you couldn’t crush them. The whole time I was captive in the Brentford, I expected the Faithful to come crashing through the doors.’
‘The rebels are no threat to me,’ Samuel said. ‘Though I certainly didn’t expect them to travel to the quarry and attempt something so foolish. I’m sure they had some help from you in that respect.’
‘You underestimated them.’
‘To an extent, yes. But then no harm was done. In fact, I’d wager they sowed the seeds of their own undoing in the attempt.’
‘No, no harm,’ Travis said, clenching his fist and causing pain to shoot through his arm as he remembered the echoing screams of men dying in the choking, white dust. He wondered if Sam had ever experienced real physical pain.
‘Speaking of rebels,’ Samuel said, ‘having spent time in their employ, I imagine you could probably be of use in their destruction.’
‘Of course,’ Travis said. ‘Any way I can help, I’d be happy to.’
‘Although it may not be necessary as I already have an asset at my disposal in that regard.’
‘You mean they have a traitor?’ Travis asked, his heartbeat quickening. ‘Who is it?’ Images of rebels flashed into his mind like a slide show.
Samuel remained infuriatingly quiet, his eyes darting around Travis’ face as if studying a lab rat, locked in a glass-walled cage. ‘Did you hear,’ he said, changing the subject, ‘I’ve decided to start a program to encourage the city residents to inform on each other for rewards.’
‘That sounds risky. How do you know they can be trusted?’
‘Indeed, it seems trust is the question of the day.’ Samuel’s cheek twitched as he stared. Travis suddenly felt very alone. ‘There will be rigorous studying and audits to weed out any disloyalty among the candidates. Any who do prove their loyalty will be indoctrinated into the church, the rest thrown
out like chaff in the wind. I had planned to create a new department to handle the influx. With your… charismatic front, I expected you to be well suited to take the managing role.’
‘That sounds like an idea I’m sure I could help out with.’
‘Good, then we may have a use for you yet.’ Samuel rose and flashed a courteous smile. ‘We will speak again soon, Travis. Until then, welcome back to the church.’
CHAPTER 42
AIDEN AWOKE IN the Mornings’ guest room to find Andrew watching him from the doorway, framed in the light of dawn. ‘You’re awake,’ the boy said. His dog, Willow, padded into view beside him, tongue lolling.
‘I am,’ Aiden said, sitting up, his voice throaty from sleep. After the exhaustion from the journey and spending the night in a real bed, he had slept like the dead.
‘I’m going to take a walk.’ Andrew stood there expectantly.
Aiden swung his legs off the bed. ‘Then I’ll join you,’ he said, taking the hint. ‘Just let me get myself together and check on my friends.’ He rose and dressed, drank as much water as he could stomach to rehydrate, and went out to the small cabin on the edge of the village.
The sun was rising as he walked, the low angle of the light filtering through the trees to create long, weak shadows. It seemed no one else was awake yet, with only birdsong breaking the stillness of the crisp air.
In the cabin, Patrick lay unmoving, his face streaked with sweat. Aiden wasn’t sure if he was sleeping or still unconscious, but he was clearly suffering. Woody, meanwhile, snored undisturbed. Aiden briefly considered waking the smuggler to bring him along, but he needed to stay off his leg and heal. With nothing else Aiden could do for his friends, he headed back to the Morning’s cabin where Andrew was idling in a rocking chair on the porch.
‘You ready?’ the young man asked.
They set off, trekking out of the village. They walked without conversation for a solid ten minutes before Andrew finally spoke. ‘How are your friends doing?’ he asked.
