The Rat Collector: A Dystopian Thriller (Age of End Book 1) (8 page)

Vince listened carefully. Maybe Saul was right. Perhaps he was overreacting. They should use this ability instead of wasting it. It was a gift after all, not a curse. “Okay, show me.”

“Yes!” Saul yelled, jumping up with excitement. “Let’s get to it then. First, we need to find an animal for you to drain. There are tons of rabbits around. They’re just tough to catch. Here, I’ll help you.”

“I’ve hunted rabbit before. I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s what I thought, but there’s a catch. Draining doesn’t work if the rabbit’s dead. You need to catch a live one.”

Saul’s hunting skills were impressive. He had been practicing all day. When he captured the rabbit, he held it up by the throat. It frantically twisted and turned, trying to escape the tight grasp. Saul wrapped his other hand around the rabbit’s hind legs and twisted his wrist. There was a loud snap as the nimble bones in its legs broke. He released his grip and let it fall to the ground. The rabbit wriggled in pain, dragging its legs and rolling from side to side until finally, it went limp. Its chest still puffed in and out and its ear occasionally twitched. Passed out, but still alive.

Saul pointed. “Go on. What are you waiting for?”

Vince picked up the body. He cradled the ball of fur and gently brushed its head with his fingertips.

“Come on Vince! It’s not your pet. Go on and drain it already.”

Vince did as commanded. He drained the wounded rabbit, and in an instant, understood what Saul meant. It was not necessarily stronger, just different. It was better. From that moment on he was hooked. All of his doubts, fears, hesitations. Gone.

SEVENTEEN

VINCE WAS INTERRUPTED when Horace entered the room. Rupert stood to escort the old man out, but Horace remained calm. There was no yelling or nonsense babbling. He stumbled in and sat in the corner, quiet as a mouse.

“Horace, are you okay?” Rupert asked. “You should be in bed?”

“I want to listen,” he whispered.

“Okay,” Rupert said, shrugging as he took his seat.

“So, what I saw,” Carl said. “That was you draining the horse.”

Vince nodded. “That is correct. And I am very sorry you had to see that. It was not my intention.”

“What
was
your intention?” Ella asked. “Why did you drain the horse in the first place? That was our only one.”

“It was certainly not the ideal outcome. You must understand, I thought Saul was coming. If he was, you would all be dead. I needed to warn you. Protect you. But I was useless in that wheelchair. Draining helps me heal, and I made a difficult decision. I’m afraid it was the wrong one. I hope you can forgive me.”

Rupert stared into Vince’s eyes. Could he be trusted? “That is quite some story.”

Carl nodded. “I liked the story with the turtle.”

Turtle.

“The giant tortoise can live for over two hundred years,” Ella blurted out. She was not sure why she quoted
The Wonderful World of Animals: Volume 5 — Reptiles
; and now, with everyone staring, her cheeks grew red hot. “I found that quote from a book in the library. I’m not sure why it came to mind.”

Rupert patted her shoulder. “No worries, dear.”

“I do have one question,” she said. “Why is Saul so dangerous? You seemed like really good friends. What changed?”

Vince stared deep into the crackling fireplace. “Everything changed.”

EIGHTEEN

Five years went by in Rodin…

NOT MUCH HAD changed in the town of Rodin. Mr. and Mrs. Vigo lived in their quiet house. It was a peaceful town with friendly neighbors. Mr. Vigo went hunting in the woods every day. He butchered the meat and prepared them for sale in his own meat shop,
Vigo’s Meats
. Mrs. Vigo spent most of her days looking after the shop, selling the meat to local customers. Occasionally, they traveled to other parts of the Pugg, but most of their business was done in the heart of Rodin.

The day was ending as they closed the shop. He washed his hands and cleaned up while she counted the day’s profit. She placed the money into the lockbox under the front counter. Business had been slow for the past few days, giving her time to plan her son’s upcoming birthday. In three days, he would turn seventeen. She was planning a surprise party. There were a number of things she needed to do before the big day. Invitations to neighbors and classmates had already been sent. Now, she needed to focus on the final stages of planning. “Honey,” she called, “I’m going over to talk with Mrs. Shepherd,” she lowered her voice to a half whisper, “about the
you-know-what
.”

“Darling, the boy isn’t here. You don’t need to whisper in riddles.”

“I’m just being careful. You never know who’s listening. I want to make sure everything is perfect.”

“I’m sure it will be,” he replied. “You are really outdoing yourself with all of this planning.”

“Well, our Vincent deserves it. He’s a good boy.”

Vince entered through the front door carrying a large bag full of raw meat. “Hi, Father. I have more deer meat.”

“Excellent, son. You’ve been a lot of help around here.”

“I like hunting. It’s fun.”

“Good. Soon you will be doing all of the hunting. I’m getting too old to go out every day.”

His mother walked to the front door and waved to both of them. “Bye. I should be back before dinner.”

“Where are you going?” Vince asked.

“Just for a walk.”

She walked down the stone trail to the road. As she strolled along the side, she came across two lawmen. She recognized one of them: Law Chief Darren, head of Rodin law enforcement. His tall, chiseled figure conveyed strong authority. Next to him was a shorter, much younger man, whom she did not recognize. They both wore lawmen uniforms: simple brown vests over a plain black shirt. Stitched in the corner of their vest was the town crest. A large tortoise climbing a pyramid. The words
Live Free Forever
were
printed underneath. Their trousers were loose and baggy. Fine leather straps were wrapped around their waists, equipped with a holster for their batons. They wore wide-brimmed hats, tilted down to block the sun. A silver star was mounted on Law Chief Darren’s hat.

As she passed, Darren tipped his hat, “Good evening Mrs. Vigo.”

She nodded in return, “And to you Law Chief. On your daily patrol?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m showing Manny here the patrol route. It’s his first day.” Manny tipped his hat as well. She responded with another nod. “What brings you outside at this hour?” Darren asked. “You should be home sharing a meal with your family right about now.” He gazed up at the sky. “Though I suppose this is fine weather for an evening stroll.”

“Yes. It is quite nice out tonight. Although, that’s not why I’m out. I’m off to visit Mrs. Shepherd, to make the final plans for my son’s birthday.”

“Oh yes, of course! How old is little Vincent turning?”

“Seventeen.” she answered.

“I guess he’s not so little anymore.”

“I know; they grow so fast.”

“They sure do.”

“Are you coming to the party. You’re more than welcome.”

“I’d love to, but I’ll be on duty. Someone has to look over Manny, after all.”

Manny tipped his hat again.

She nodded back. “Well, if you change your mind, we’ll save a spot for you. Both of you.”

“Much thanks, ma’am. Have a pleasant evening.”

Manny tipped his hat one last time and followed the Law Chief down the road.

She continued down her path, following the road to its end. Around the corner, two houses down, she saw the Shepherd residence. It was a cozy, one-story building. Its white coat looked freshly painted. A tall brick chimney poked out from the roof. Plain square windows complimented the extravagant red door. She walked up the stone trail and planted three polite knocks. The door swung open to a young boy.

“Hello, Saul. Is your mother home?” The boy wandered off, calling for his mother.

Mrs. Shepherd arrived and greeted her guest with a high cheery smile. “What a surprise. It’s so good to see you. Please, come in.”

Mrs. Vigo stepped in and slipped her shoes off before following her host into the kitchen. They both took a seat on the wooden stools, facing each other across the table.

Mrs. Shepherd interlocked her fingers and placed them in front of her. She crossed her legs and tapped her foot against the leg of the table. “How are things at the shop?”

“A little slow, but good enough to get by.”

“I’ll stop by sometime. Your meats are top notch. Best in Rodin.”

“Tell that to everyone else. Luckily, we have loyal customers like you to keep our business running.”

“I wouldn’t even think of shopping anywhere else.” She switched her legs to cross the other way. “I don’t know how your husband keeps up with it, at his age. The hunts must be exhausting.

“Vincent has been helping a lot. He brings most of our meat now.”

“How is Vincent doing anyway?”

“That’s actually why I’m here.” She leaned forward. “As you already know, his birthday is coming up.”

“Oh yes. When is that? In three days, right? I’m looking forward to the party. Have you finished planning everything?”

“Almost. It’s a surprise, so I need someone to keep Vincent away from the house while we set up. Saul’s a good friend. I was hoping he could take Vincent out for a little while, just to keep him busy.”

“He would be glad to.”

“Great. Thank you so much.” Mrs. Vigo shivered in her seat. “I’m so excited for the party.”

“It will be a good time, I’m sure.”

“I hope so. Vincent deserves to have a little fun. He always works so hard.” They both smiled in agreement. “Anyway, I should get going. Dinner is waiting for me back at the house.

“Very well,” Mrs. Shepherd said. They both rose from their seats. “I’ll make sure Saul keeps Vincent distracted.” She walked Mrs. Vigo to the door and held it open. “Have a pleasant evening.”

Mrs. Vigo left with one less thing to plan. The pieces were falling into place. Everything was going to be perfect.

NINETEEN

ROGER WAS DREADING school as usual. Ever since the move to Rodin, he had built up a good deal of enemies. Nobody treated him poorly, they just avoided him altogether. He struggled with school work too. For Roger, school was a place of lonely confusion.

He entered the classroom and walked to his seat in the back corner. When Vince and Saul entered, the only seats open were the two in front of him. They squeezed by to sit down. “Oh great,” he heard Saul say. “We have to sit in front of this loser.”

“Shut up,” Roger said. “I’m the one that has your big head blocking my view.”

“It’s no wonder you don’t have friends. Your parents probably can’t stand you.”

This was true, and Roger knew it. The last five years in Rodin were the worst of his life. No friends. Irritating parents. He wanted to move back to Vassor but knew that would never happen.
Slice and dice
. Of all his classmates, he hated Saul the most. So when the insulting words left Saul’s mouth, his temper skyrocketed. “At least I
have
both of my parents.”

As soon as he said it, he wanted to take it back. Saul had lost his father only a year ago and bringing it up now was the most tasteless thing he could have said. Saul’s posture sank, and his eyes dropped to the ground. He turned his back and sat down with no response. The surrounding kids glared at Roger. Guilt and anger mixed together to create a whirlwind of confusion in his head.
Saul provoked me. It’s not my fault. But everyone’s judging me.
Overwhelmed, he reached for his bag and pulled out
The Happy Turtle
. He looked at the image of Walter marching down the trail with a smile on his face. It was calming. He stared at the cover until his mind settled. Once he was calm, he lifted his head to see that Ms. Martin had already started class.

He tried to focus on her words, but could not grasp the material. He needed to refresh his mind. His arm shot straight up, to get her attention. “Ms. Martin, may I be excused?”

“Of course Roger. But don’t take too long. You’ll miss some important stuff.”

Roger placed the book back in his bag and left the room. He paced about outside, making laps around the building. The air was cool and refreshing, and the temperature was just right. The singing birds were soothing. The fresh air was exactly what he needed to clear his thoughts.

As he strolled back into class, Ms. Martin was lecturing on the types of clouds. He returned to his seat and reached into his bag. His book was gone.
The Happy Turtle
had vanished.

His heart pounded like crazy, pumping hot blood to his face. A grinding headache invaded his mind. His hands trembled. His thoughts were incoherent. He twisted around. Looking for the book. Searching on the ground. Under a seat. On a desk. Anywhere. Rage filled his stomach, traveled up his chest, and burned his throat until he could no longer hold it.

“Where is my book?” he yelled, slamming his desk in a sudden rage.

Ms. Martin stopped mid-sentence and stared at Roger, along with the rest of the class. “Where is my book?” he repeated. “I put it in my bag, and now it’s gone. One of you took it. Stole it. I know you all hate me. And now you think it’s okay to take my stuff!”

“Calm down Roger,” Ms. Martin said. “I’m sure no one stole your book. You must have misplaced it.”

“No!” He slammed his fist. Tears streamed from his eyes. “I put it down right here. And now it’s gone. One of you took it!” He turned and pointed his finger. “It must have been Saul!”

“Don’t accuse Saul,” she said. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m telling you! He stole my book! He stole it to get back at me for what I said! You know what? Now I’m glad I said it! I’m glad your father is dead!”

“Roger!” She stomped her foot and pointed her finger. Her voice echoed across the room and pierced the children’s ears. “That’s enough! I will not allow this kind of behavior! You are excused from class! I will have a serious talk with your parents after school!”

“But—“

“But nothing! Leave this classroom, now!”