Tremor: If your world was falling apart, how far would you go to save it? (The Tremor Cycle) (4 page)

Please, mum, be safe. Please.

She was all he had left.

Chapter 3

Lost?

‘Mum?’ William whispered through the gloom, the usual damp smell filling his nostrils.

The dread began to rise into his throat, the taste of acidic bile stinging his tongue. He recalled the horrendous sight of two suited Terrafall Enforcers walking towards his house, each holding a clipboard, one with his father’s jacket and journal clenched in his hands. He remembered the ice-cold feeling of loss that followed soon after.

He couldn’t go through that again. Please, no. William called out for his mother again.

No answer came. The place seemed completely empty.

He carried on through the hall, slowly stepping over the scattered and smashed up furniture, the floor littered with his family’s belongings – their life, his memories, broken into unrecognisable lumps. What had happened? It was clear there must have been a struggle. His pace quickened, his heart beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings.

Grabbing a broken table leg for protection, William took the first step that led to the top floor. Silence. Still nothing. The narrow corridors were vacant and dark, the surrounding gloom pulling him back downstairs and towards the kitchen.

Wait! What was that noise? William gulped, ran along the corridor and launched himself into the kitchen, the table leg held above his head.

‘N–no,’ he breathed as he took in the scene. He dropped the wood block, and his hand grasped his open mouth instead.

There was blood, most of it pooled under the dining table. Plates, cutlery and other utensils were scattered across the floor, surrounding the stomach-crippling sight. He crept towards it, hands still covering his mouth. He didn’t want to inhale the cold, rusty smell.

He tentatively reached out to the blood stained table surface, but snapped back, shoving his hand into his side. Blood wasn’t something he wanted to touch, especially if it was his mother’s. Tears filled his eyes as he felt a wave of confusion and panic wash over him. What the hell had happened? Could it actually belong to his mum?

And if it did?

William looked away. If it was her blood, where was she? Could she still be alive? Perhaps? If she were dead, wouldn’t her body still be here? He shook his head. She must be alive. There had been some talk of night abductions, hadn’t there? People spirited away by who-knows-who? Scavengers maybe?

There was hope.

Then the piercing sound of glass smashing in the living room made him spin around. He grabbed up his weapon again and tiptoed through the hall once more, conscious of the sweat soaking through his tatty uniform.

He pushed through the door to the living room and saw movement. He began swinging the wood manically, hoping he’d cause some injury to whoever it might be, or stun them at the very least. A shadow darted across the room. William’s senses left him and he reached out for his foe. Fur. He felt fur.

Sighing, he took a step back and watched as a stray tabby cat shot through the debris-strewn room and out of the house.

Adrenalin fading, William suddenly felt overwhelmed by grief. The day had started off badly and he’d thought it couldn’t get any worse when Mr Blobby had burned his journal. Yet things had become much, much worse.

The ground shook a little, but William ignored it, and instead looked out of the window into the dark street. As he stared, a shadowy figure stepped into view and glared straight at him. Right, definitely not a cat this time. The person’s black coat rippled to reveal something glinting under the hem. The first thing William thought of was a knife.

He ran into the kitchen and slammed the door. He grabbed a broom and shoved it under the handle, knocking into the table and almost slipping in the blood on the fractured linoleum. He looked around for something he could use to save himself. Then a piece of plastic caught his attention, lying on the floor close to the upturned bin.

‘Mum’s street pass,’ he breathed, scooping it up. It allowed professionals such as doctors, nurses and other night workers to be out in the streets after dark. He slipped it into his pocket – at least he’d have a chance to get away now. Without a pass, he’d be classed as a Scavenger and thrown in The Pit.

Now distinct footsteps on broken fragments crunched towards William. The sound was coming from the front room again – but this time he knew it wasn’t a feral animal.

Legs shaking, William ran to the back door, pushing away everything in his path. The place was a complete mess, but eventually he cleared enough broken crockery to allow the door to open. However, when he turned the handle it wouldn’t budge. He tried again, with more strength. Oh God, oh God! He looked back. A shadow appeared below the door.

‘Come on, come on!’ He shoved hard, using his shoulder to try and force the heavy exterior door open. No use.

He looked through the small pane of glass. Hang on, what was that? Someone had blocked it from the outside with a heap of metal shrapnel. Did that mean this had been planned? Maybe his mother had come home and they’d been waiting for her in the kitchen, whoever the hell they were.

The door to the kitchen was opening, the broom giving way under the person’s strength. He looked at the kitchen window over the sink. Nothing else for it! William ran towards it, jumping onto the worktop, table leg grasped firmly in his hand. As he swung out, the glass shattered, raining into the small patio behind the house.

He looked back. The door to the kitchen was open and a dark figure was passing through it. Without further reflection, William dived through the window, catching his cheek on some broken glass and rolling down into the sludge of the patio.

Blood seeped down William’s face, but he didn’t care. He ran down the alley behind the house, forcing himself not to glimpse back. He raced through a narrow gap between the houses and into the main street, leaping through the gate and ignoring the guard’s open-mouthed gaze.

‘You alright?’ Victor called. ‘You shouldn’t be out.’

But William kept running.

Who was that guy?

What did he want?

And where was his mother?

William slowed. Should he just leave, or maybe go back and see if Victor knew anything? The guard was decent enough.

No, William shook his head. Bad idea. Even if someone had his mother, what could he do? They’d just send him home, and home wasn’t safe. There was only one place safe enough: Althea’s house.

He pushed on, holding his pocket tightly, gaining comfort from the street pass. He looked to his right and headed down another tight space, trying to keep to the back streets, away from any Enforcer who might not take too kindly to a boy being out at night, even if there was a good reason for it.

The cobbles blended together as he ran and soon that was all he could see – a greyish brown smear of dark colour. The old biscuit-tin cottages that lined the ancient backstreets leading off the town centre crumbled against each other, making the space close in on him. Considering the way William felt, the houses could fall on him and he’d welcome it.

A loose stone tripped him up and his knee buckled. Falling into the nearest doorway, William sank down and tears fell yet again. His mother’s face flashed in front of him, urging him to carry on; telling him it wasn’t safe to be outside, in town, at night. Standing again, William told himself to man up.

How could he help his mother if he turned into a blubbering, useless mess?

Or worse still, if he was caught by whoever had taken her.

As he moved further down the tiny road, the buildings became more oppressive, as though he’d been locked in a dusty cupboard. The walls felt as if they were pushing his ribs right into his lungs. The thick air tugged at his windpipe, wrapping itself around him as though it were trying to stop him from getting away from the danger.

And just as it seemed his luck couldn’t get any worse, rain started to lash down, and not the kind of rain that just dribbled down your face, but the kind that bounced off it like small pebbles, leaving horrible bruises. It was a Wrecker Storm. The tremors weren’t the only things that had been caused by the war.

The Wreckers were another concoction, some clever scientist’s idea of turning the weather into a weapon to use against enemies. William buried his head in his arms and ran into a doorway, clinging tightly to the soggy bricks.

The storm soon passed over, but the noise of it still pounded in his ears. He crept out of his hiding place and started off again.

What was that? Did something move? William squinted. ‘Flippin’ hell, you’ve got to be kidding me!’ he said. This wasn’t his night.

Someone was hiding in one of the doorways just off to the left.

There was no way he’d go unnoticed now, but he couldn’t turn back, could he? The person with the knife could be watching; might even be following him. Nothing for it but to keep moving forward.

William walked quickly, but try as he might he couldn’t help glancing into the alcove as he passed. A small group of filthy people huddled in the doorway, one of them rutting around in the broken down porch, a small space that would once have been used for storing shoes and umbrellas. He looked more closely. The man had raggedy hair, which covered most of his grubby face, but his eyes shone with life. William looked down at the rest: a woman and two children probably not over the age of five.

Scavengers!

Crap.

A hand gripped his shoulder.

‘Please don’t hurt me,’ William whispered. This couldn’t be happening to him, he thought. These were the people who Terrafall said were responsible for the disappearances. He tried to step back, air shooting in and out of his lungs.

‘You alright, lad? Been a long time since we’ve run into anyone after dark who’s not a Peace Enforcer.’ The voice was rough and gritty. ‘You a Scavenger? No one but Enforcers and pass holders are allowed on the streets after dark, and you’re definitely not an Enforcer, are ya?’

‘No, I’m not any of them, let me go,’ William instructed, struggling. He shoved a hand into his pocket, clenching his mother’s pass. Could he use it to get away? No. This might be a trick to see if he owned one so they could steal it. He pulled his hand out.

The tight hold on William’s shoulder melted away. ‘Now, now. We’re not going to hurt you. Do you want some food? We found some old tins in these ruins.’

William didn’t know how to respond. Could these people be trusted? Not according to Terrafall.

‘You look like you could do with some food. And that cut doesn’t look healthy,’ the man pointed to William’s cheek, his blue eyes gleaming through matted hair and filth. ‘What’s your name, then?’

‘I–I don’t have one.’ It was a stupid response, but it was the first thing that escaped his lips.

The man managed a tight smile. ‘Everyone has a name. I’m Markus, and this is my family.’

‘Why are you here?’ It was a silly question and William didn’t know why he’d asked it. He put it down to nerves.

‘We’ve been living like this since Terrafall threw us out of our home because I took too much food from our own harvest! We were bloody starving, too,’ Markus shook his head. ‘And it’s just created another group of Scavengers by doing this, the people it blames for anything that goes wrong.’ He sighed. ‘Come on lad, please have some.’

‘N–no, it’s fine, I’ve just got to get out of here. M–my mum needs–’

‘You sure? We don’t see many people after dark anymore, not since those pigs took over the streets, and started blaming us for the abductions.’

William stopped himself from running then. ‘Have Scavengers been abducting people, though? My mum’s been taken you see… There was blood…’

‘Nobody we know would do it. And why would we want to? What would we gain from it? We’re living off scraps for God’s sake. A conspiracy, that’s what it is. All we’re doing is trying to survive, living off what we can find.’ Markus let out another sigh. ‘I’m sorry about your mother, lad. Things are getting tough. But just because Terrafall says people like us are behind all the bad stuff doesn’t mean we are. It’s all a big old smokescreen if you ask me! God knows why.’

William didn’t disagree; it wasn’t surprising to him that Terrafall lied. It’d done it so many times before, and the proof had been in Dad’s journal. He tensed, funnelling away the anger. ‘Listen, you keep the food. You need it more than me.’

‘But…’

‘I’ve got a friend to go to. There’s food there.’

Markus nodded. ‘You stay safe then. Try to avoid the Enforcers, keep out of open areas. Good luck my friend.’ He gathered up his family and together they stumbled back into the ruins of the house, disappearing into the darkness.

William walked on, keeping his eyes forward. Survive, that’s all everyone was trying to do.

A sudden thump from a nearby house reminded him that there was more to fear than Scavengers. Stopping, he waited, but no one appeared. Be that as it may, whoever was chasing him might be close. He had to get to Althea’s house, and fast.

Thoughts of Markus kept him company, and helped banish horrible visions of what could have happened to his mother – at least for the moment. Could Terrafall be using the Scavengers to hide a deeper secret? Who was really responsible for the abductions?

The end of the narrow road was up ahead. He pulled himself towards it and risked looking back into the gloom. It was deserted. William stepped out of the suffocating space into an open courtyard and walked with his head down, when suddenly a voice echoed in the still night.

William almost collapsed from a dizzying combination of fear and exhaustion. How much horror could he take in one evening?

‘So all the Scavengers from the Sandylands estate have been taken out?’ said a deep voice from across the courtyard.

William paused. A rusted metal roof sheet was propped against a derelict house at the back of the square. He ran to it and pushed himself underneath. When his breathing calmed, he allowed himself to peer out.

Two men wearing blue capes stepped briskly across the cobbled yard. William shivered, and then steadied himself in case the metal moved and alerted the men to his presence. They were Peace Enforcers, both clenching lethal-looking batons. He grabbed his pocket. The outline of the street pass filled his palm.