Journey to the Heart of the Abyss

Book 2: Light the Abyss

by London Shah

Genres: YA Dystopian

Synopsis

Leyla McQueen has finally reunited with her father after breaking him out of Broadmoor—the illegal government prison—but his freedom comes at a terrible cost. As Leyla celebrates his return, she must grapple with the pain of losing Ari. Now separated from the boy who has her heart and labeled the nation’s number-one enemy, Leyla must risk illegal travel through unchartered waters in her quest for the truth behind her father's arrest. Across Britain, the fallout from Leyla's actions has escalated tensions between Anthropoid and non-Anthropoid communities, bringing them to an all-time high. And, as Leyla and her friends fight to uncover the startling truths about their world, she discovers her own shocking past—and the horrifying secrets behind her father’s abduction and arrest. But as these long-buried truths finally begin to surface, so, too, do the authorities’ terrible future plans. And if ever-pervasive fear prevents the people from taking a stand now, the abyss could stay in the dark forever.

Release date: October 26, 2021

Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

Print pages: 384

Sample

 

CHAPTER ONEEYSTUROY, THE FAROE ISLANDS, NORTH ATLANTIC OCEAN, FEBRUARY 2100

The early morning waves of the North Atlantic Ocean roll wild around us, murky gray swells crashing into the submerged mountains and obscuring everything in sight with their churning. The submersible sways in the turbulent current and my heart races as I peer into the water. From our undercover spot among several huge boulders, all we can see is an unforgiving gloom.

Papa is sitting still beside me, his gaze fixed on the blurry forms outside. At last he takes a breath and speaks. “This is not what I wanted for you, Leyla.”

He narrows his eyes when we sense a change. We twist and turn in the double-seated sub to peer into the cloaked surroundings from every angle.

As dark as it is with our craft shut down, there’s no mistaking the telltale shadow of the vessel passing way overhead now, even when they’re using minimum light. Only those wishing to stay concealed would risk these waters without full illumination. We should be safe on this ridge. I shut down the craft the moment it settled on the ledge so that nothing would give us away. Our fate now depends on how long they’re prepared to spend in the area, and whether they decide to max out their vessel’s lighting. There’s no missing us if they do that.

It was Oscar who alerted us to the patrolling security sub. I always leave the Kabul in stealth mode on these trips so they didn’t trace her, and I’ve instructed the Navigator to move her a little. As long as nobody gets a visual on the submarine, she’ll be safe where she’s hiding now, hovering away between several imposing cliff faces far above us.

“They’ll be gone soon, Papa.” I keep my eyes on the shadowy presence that doesn’t seem to be in any hurry.

This is not what I wanted for you. I twist my hair around my fingers. I’m letting him down, or at least causing him to worry.

“It’s not what I wanted for myself either, Papa. But what choice do we have?”

The craft rocks again and I pray the boulders aren’t suddenly lodged. The mountain ranges around here make for great hideouts I’ve found these past few weeks, but they’re not without their risks. If only these depths were clearer, but they’re murkier than even the deep gray-blue of the altitude we keep the Kabul at.

“I’m still not convinced these excursions are the best way to search for his community, Pickle.” Papa sighs heavily as he strokes Jojo’s white fur. The lazy Maltese puppy curled up in his lap and fell asleep soon after the submersible set off.

“It isn’t ideal, but how else are we meant to find Ari’s people? And you insist on coming along when you really don’t need to. You and Jojo should be sitting comfortably back on the Kabul. We can stay in touch throughout. I never take more than a couple of hours.” I’d worry a lot less about him if he remained on board the submarine instead of joining me on my searches.

Sometimes I have nightmares where I’m back in our flat in London and Papa’s left for work. Jeeves delivers a message: The Blackwatch has taken your father again. Other times Papa’s out there in a submersible and a net falls over the craft. The worst of the past few weeks seem to have merged, and every nightmare is so bloody real I’m shaking with relief when I open my eyes. They cannot get their hands on him a second time.

“We’re not doing this again, Pickle. If you must make these trips, then I come along with you.”

Something materializes from the thick gloom to my side and I startle. The enormous round shape, as tall as the vessel, draws closer. It heads straight for us, slowly circling the sub. I hold my breath as it returns to the front. It looks strange, like a mammoth fish missing the latter half of its body.

“A giant mola,” Papa marvels.

The hardened-looking creature is at least three meters tall and yet almost flat, its small mouth open in an O shape. I wave it away frantically as if it can understand me. It mustn’t draw the security sub’s attention to this spot. At last, the fish meanders on.

I face Papa just as he turns to gaze out to his side, and I slip my hand in his; he squeezes it tight.

He hasn’t voiced it, but ever since his return he’s been uneasy when left on his own. I can hear the low music he has playing all night, and he never used to sleep with a Lumi-Orb glowing. I hate the authorities so much. What they put him through at Broadmoor… He was in that hellhole of a prison for over three months. After weeks of them trying and failing to get him to reveal the names of everyone sympathetic toward amphis, they left him to rot in a freezing-cold, bare cell. When he caught an infection and the extended fever severely limited his movements, his condition escalated. We found him almost lifeless. He had several viral and bacterial infections, a raging temperature that had him delirious for days, and most heartbreaking of all, he was critically malnourished. Though he already looks like a completely different person to the one we’d broken out of Broadmoor, thank God, all I see when I look at him is a mind and body that’s been through hell. He runs his hand now over very short dark-brown hair that still hasn’t grown back long enough to curl. I had to shave his head because it was full of lice. But he’s here, and sometimes I still can’t believe it.

It’s been just over a month since his rescue. A month since the prime minister’s right-hand man, Captain Sebastian, placed a hefty bounty on our heads and labeled us terrorists—Britain’s number one enemy, to be exact.

A month since Ari was dragged away from us.

A creature slinks into view as it becomes interested in the dome of the cockpit, gliding its body all over it. The Faroe Islands seem to draw the eeriest critters. The seconds stretch into minutes, and still the security sub circles the area. All I see, though, no matter where I look, is Ari’s face.

It’s hard to picture this part of the world as his home, impossible to imagine him once swimming out here. It’s actually terrifying placing him in such an environment. He’s too bright, too intense for such a grim setting. His dazzling gaze, so beautiful and tender. He’ll randomly pop into my head and then it’s a struggle to focus on anything else. Often his face taunts me at mealtimes, and I’ll see him as he was, when we’d sit to eat together in the viewport. The way he smiled his small, secretive smile. Then I have to quickly steady myself because I really, really miss him.

And the mere thought that somebody might’ve hurt him shreds my insides.

I replay that moment over and over, how his then warm, affectionate expression turned so fierce when the net dropped around him and he found himself confined. The way they hauled him up through the waves as if he were an animal. How his features twisted in disbelief at first, and then in wild rage and resentment.

My heart sinks now as it always does every time I allow myself to think about him. It starts with wonder and ends in such emptiness.

Papa sighs as he shifts around in the seat. “This is their reality every day, Pickle. A life in hiding. It’s no way to live.”

Ari and his people aren’t even Anthropoids. That’s the name the current government gave them, Papa explained to me, in order to label them as something animal. But they’re human beings—Homo amphibius to be exact. The scientists who created amphis knew their makeup, their DNA, was entirely human, and that the only difference between them and us is they can breathe underwater. I wish I’d known earlier; all those years I’d used the term Anthropoid for them.… I’m filled with shame anytime I remember. It was too dangerous to ever let me know the truth about the so-called threat of the Anthropoids, so Papa kept it from me to protect me and fully intended to tell me everything soon. But then he was arrested.

The minutes tick by as we sit, tense, my stomach hard. It’s the third time we’ve found ourselves in this particular situation, and it doesn’t get any less unnerving. But we hardly have any alternative. “I don’t enjoy these daily trips either, Papa,” I say gently. “But I can’t stop now. Someone from Ari’s community will spot us—they have to.”

“It’s too risky.…”

Papa’s biggest worry is the authorities capturing me on one of these searches. And it always reminds me of his arrest. More specifically, that I still don’t know exactly why he was apprehended and imprisoned. Unfortunately he isn’t yet ready to talk about it. But he’s been through enough, and I know he’ll share that with me, too, as soon as he’s ready.

“If they spot us, I’ll aim for a dense group of peaks like the ones behind us now. Our craft’s tiny compared to theirs, and the clusters of rock will give me the upper hand, Papa. I’ll play cat and mouse in the mountains until they run out of power.”

“Out of the question.” He gazes away into the water, deep in thought, before shaking his head softly. “You are so much like your mama.” His voice always turns wistful whenever he mentions her. He releases a long sigh. “I must keep you safe—”

“Papa—”

“Hear me out, Pickle. No matter what you say, it’s my job to ensure your safety. You’re my child. It doesn’t mean I don’t think you can’t look after yourself. It only means I need to look after you, too. Look at me, Leyla.”

I meet his gaze and he breaks into a small, tender smile. Oh how I’d missed this lopsided grin of his all those months he was gone.

“I know I say it often, but you need to believe it. I’m so proud of you. And your mama… Soraya would have been the proudest. Even an adult would have struggled with what you’ve had to bear these past months. Leaving London in a submarine… I feel as if I hear about somebody else’s journey, not yours. You used to feel uneasy if I even spoke of life beyond London’s borders. And then… then you had to suffer all that. What did I put my Pickle through?” His voice fades and he swallows.

“You put me through nothing, Papa. You didn’t cause it—they did. It was my decision to go looking for you. And I know I was rash with some of my choices, I see that now. But you’re back, and that’s the main thing, yes?” I rub his arm. “And now we must find Ari.”

Papa pats my hand as he looks away, nodding. “Knowing you didn’t go through all that alone is a balm whenever I think too much on everything that happened to you.”

“We wouldn’t be here without him,” I whisper.

At last, it’s been a full ten minutes since we caught a glimpse of the security sub. I cup my Bracelet with my other hand to shield its light, just in case, and bring up my wrist.

“Oscar? Verbal communication only.”

Even dimmed, the immediate glow about my wrist puts me on edge, and I let my hair fall around my hands.

“My lady?” The Navigator’s whimsical voice is always instantly comforting.

“Oscar, we can’t see any sign of them anymore. Please check the area?”

It takes only seconds. “My dear, the rogue vessel is in motion some two leagues to the west of your location now, traversing in the opposite direction to ourselves. Any instructions?”

Papa utters a prayer in thanks.

I blow out my cheeks with relief. “All right, you can show yourself now, Oscar,” I say, swiping his projection toward the cockpit so we can see him as I power up the craft.

I turn to Papa. “We carry on, yes?”

He nods and focuses on Oscar. “What is the status of the Kabul?”

The Navigator’s affectionate gaze takes us in, and he dips his head with a warm smile. “All is quite satisfactory on this end, sir.” He brings a crimson tulip to his nose and inhales it.

“Still, remain in stealth mode,” I instruct him as I check the dashboard. “And don’t take your eyes off the tracking system.” The last time I stopped worrying and relaxed, a net fell out of nowhere, closed around Ari, and took him away.

A school of vividly striped mackerel immediately scatters from view when the sub lights up the water.

“Understood, my lady.” Oscar tilts his head. “I do trust entirely in the Kabul’s flair for secrecy. The submarine is in her element when she must remain discreet. As ladies often are!”

We can’t help grinning. The craft rises above the boulders and I take in the phantom silhouettes that surround us, all the endless, jagged peaks of Eysturoy.

The Navigator clears his throat. “Next time, my lady, perhaps I might suggest a smidgeon of firepower?” His doleful eyes shine. “I dare say it worked wonders the last time.”

“Steady on, Oscar. We had no choice the other evening. But I’ve told you, we only fire in defense. Not to mention we don’t want to waste our resources—you never know when we’ll suddenly need the sub’s full might.”

“Of course.” He straightens his silk cravat and nods. “Most prudent, my lady.”

I dismiss the Navigator and we move on, the sudden lights and movement causing Jojo to stir awake. The puppy stretches in Papa’s lap. She’s been amazing for his recovery.

Negotiating the surrounding landscape as carefully as I can, I keep a lookout for any sign of a community. Papa, too, has his eyes peeled on the depths.

I steer by mountains now that look like towering water wraiths. All the churning here is maddening as the water breaks against the rock. As I round a pitch-black ridge, movement ahead catches my eye and I slow down. Wow.

Papa leans in. “Why have we— Oh… mashallah.” His face lights up when he spots the mesmerizing sight.

It’s several colossal chains of salps all merged together, and they’re breathtaking. The gossamer form drifts directly in front of us now, glowing away. We watch as the lengthy, translucent creatures sway on the current. I can’t believe such delicate animals can survive this tempestuous environment. Vivid orange lights dot their insides. They float away from sight.

And my breath hitches at what they reveal.

In the creatures’ wake, suspended in the water mere feet from the sub, is a whole group of amphis. People breathing underwater.

Jojo jumps up in Papa’s lap, her ears pricked.

“Alhamdulillah!” Papa says, thanking God. “Remember, there’s nothing to fear, Pickle.” He greets them with a wave.

They hover side by side, each carrying a laser gun, though the weapons aren’t pointed at us. Hair fans around their faces, floating on the current, and the water flows freely in and out of their mouths as they stare back at us. My stomach quivers despite myself. But there’s also relief—an entire wave of it washing over me. At last.

Papa communicates with them in sign language. It’s how they interact with anyone not in the water. “I’m Hashem McQueen,” he says. “I’m Gideon Abraham’s son, and this is my daughter, Leyla. Gideon may have contacted you about us? It’s been unsafe for us to keep in touch with him, with anyone at all. We’re looking for Ari Sterling’s family. He was with us when they took him.” He also lets them know about the security sub in the area earlier, and they nod as if already aware of the fact.

They talk among themselves, their mouths moving exactly as if they were chatting inside and not actually hovering in a world of water. I can’t look away.… It’s unbelievable. They can hear one another out there.

One of them moves closer and signs right back. “Follow us,” they say, before turning around and swimming away.

Despite my slight unease, I straighten in my seat. This is what I wanted. I’ve spent weeks searching for these people.

Ari. I slip my hand into the pocket of my sweater and wrap it around the smooth rock in there. I have faith in you, Leyla, he’d said, when he gave me the ancient flint tool. At last, we might be a little closer to finding him.

I reach for the throttle to my left, push it forward, and follow in their trail.

CHAPTER TWO

We are fast, Ari once told me, but it’s gripping to watch them in action. One moment there’s nobody there, and then someone will suddenly appear, spearing back to the vessel to ensure we’re still following. Though they’re using a slightly different variant of sign language to the version I’d learned from Jeeves, it’s easy enough to grasp. As they reach a wide clearing between several craggy peaks, they dive. I grab the joystick to my right and, pushing it forward, do the same.

Ridge after ridge looms around us as we descend. It’s a startling sight, all spectral and gloomy. How can even a single person survive at these depths, never mind an entire community? The water turns impossibly denser.

What would Theo and Tabby think if they could see us now? If they knew we were heading for an entire amphi community? I haven’t seen or heard from the twins since we chatted at Cambridge about six weeks ago. What I wouldn’t give to hear from my friends again, to see their faces. And Grandpa’s. I know what Gramps would say if he saw us now; he worries so much. There’s a familiar tugging at my heart.

The group we’re following stop diving. They signal to us and disappear around several cliff faces. As we catch up with them up, we find ourselves between two great ridges. They beckon us on. I spotlight every beam we have, but nothing.

“If they were easy to locate, there wouldn’t be any of them left alive,” Papa says quietly.

Sure enough, as they continue on, it becomes challenging for us to keep on their trail, and I find myself relying on every exterior lamp. I shake my head; not in a million years would I have found this place on one of my daily searches. The seabed comes into view. Though there’s nowhere near as much debris here as we have in London, there’s still too much. Cars, crates, the tail of a plane, huge container drums, and even furniture lie beneath us. Endless random shapes covered in rust, breadcrumb sponge, and coral.

“Almost there now,” they say.

As we draw closer, it becomes apparent that unlike cities around the country, there are no streetlights here. I can’t believe it; they somehow survive without either streetlights or solar spheres. At last as we glide through a broad cave-like passage and enter an open stretch of water, they pause and turn to us, indicating we’ve arrived.

Papa and I lean in and peer at the sight before us. We turn to stare at each other, before focusing again on the view all around us. It’s as if we’re inside a mountain. Colossal walls of rock surround us with no gaps in between. Then we notice the lights.

Expansive ridges jut out from the surrounding cliff faces, and oh goodness, on each one illumination glimmers from homes.

It’s an entire community.

We haven’t seen or spoken with anyone in over a month and the sudden sight of all this humanity has me light-headed. Papa and I turn to each other and grin. Even though it’s only the homes that are lit up, it’s such a welcome sight after the gloomy journey to reach the place. I sense a sudden yearning inside, an ache that brings Ari’s face crashing into my head. I know he isn’t here, but still—it’s the closest I’ve felt to him since his absence.

The sub sways. Even tempered by looming rock faces, the current remains choppy here and the waves crash against the towering stone and ledges.

“Where there are no mountains to shield them, they build their communities in layers,” Papa explains. “That way if they’re attacked, they can hope to hide as the outer layer is obliterated. With any luck, security forces assume they’ve destroyed the place and everyone in it, and move on. It’s easier than starting again from scratch. Many also construct an entire facade to hide the real settlement. Despite a lifetime of developing skills for hiding, though,” he says, his voice growing tense, “too many communities are still discovered and…”

He can’t finish, but he doesn’t need to. Ari told me how the authorities slaughter them indiscriminately. Innocent people, including children. Because they’re different.

A woman waves to catch my attention, and on her instruction I head toward a shaft of light indicating a moon pool. The silhouettes of inquisitive fish scatter as we move into the illumination.

“But I don’t understand how they’re still found, Papa. I mean this is the most hostile environment I’ve ever been in. Their existence is barely visible to anyone. How do security forces know exactly where to search? They can’t send subs into every pocket of Great Britain. Do you think it’s possible they have surveillance tech nobody knows about?” The sub rises.

He shakes his head. “I doubt it, Pickle. The Cambridge lot take care of that side of things, and they’re good. No, it’s just who the Blackwatch are; they’re ready and waiting all the time. As soon as someone in the communities slips up security-wise and gives the location away, the authorities move in.”

The craft bobs to the surface of the pool. The brightly lit room is in stark contrast to the darkness outside. I log the journey—it took us weeks to find this location, and I’m not losing it—and then I bury the info in case someone unsavory gets their hands on the sub.

Those who were guiding us surge through the water beside us and I jump in my seat. They climb out of the pool and disappear into a small row of cubicles lined up against the far wall.

Our sub moves to the very end, where Papa and I exit the vessel and enter the airlock to depressurize. As soon as we’re in the clear, the sealed door before us opens and we step into the rest of the space. Those who were dripping wet only moments earlier are already waiting for us, dry and changed.

“A lifetime of practice,” Papa says, grinning as he catches me staring.

They didn’t even need to acclimatize, and it’ll never be short of astonishing to me. I hold out my arms for Jojo, and as Papa hands her over to me, his gaze moves past me. His grin abruptly disappears. I whirl around to see several people pointing weapons at us.

“It’s okay,” Papa says to the nearest woman. “We’re friends, I assure you. Please, contact Gideon Abraham.” He turns to me. “It’s fine, Pickle. They have good reason not to trust us.”

“Hands where I can see them,” the woman insists, her voice firm and her gaze wary.

Jojo whines and I comfort her.

They search us. A small guy then moves to a corner and speaks hurriedly into his Bracelet.

“That way,” says the woman, and thrusts her weapon in the direction of the door.

Two others join us, and soon we’re flanked by three armed people and walking toward who knows where. I will my heart to stop racing as we move through the pool room’s hatch.

“They’re wise to be cautious,” Papa says, his voice low as he leans into me. “They’ll see we mean them no harm. Your grandpa works with the communities this far north, so one of them will have to have heard of him.”

Weirdly I don’t think my pulse is racing only from fear. In fact, I feel we’ll be all right. I think my heart’s thump-thumping because Ari, Ari, Ari. We found his community; we’re with his people.

The huge hatch leads into a corridor. The woman escorting us through pauses when her Bracelet bleeps, and she moves away for a whispered exchange. A moment later she rejoins us, ...