The Disappearances

by Gemma Malley

Genres: Coming of Age; Romance; YA Dystopian

Synopsis

Riveting, brilliantly imagined and passionate, THE DISAPPEARANCES, the compelling sequel to THE KILLABLES, will appeal to everyone who loved the powerful and gripping storytelling of THE HUNGER GAMES. They walked in silence onto the raised path that led to the East Gate. The closer they got, the louder the buzzing was. As they approached the gate it was almost unbearable. There was a stench in the air that made it hard to breathe, a stench that made the hair on the back of Lucas' neck stand up on end. Whatever had brought the flies here wasn't good. It's been a year since Evie and Raffy escaped the controlling regime of the City, leaving Lucas behind to rebuild the ruins of the place they once called home. And Lucas knew that once he said goodbye, Evie would be lost to him forever... But the City soon finds itself plagued by another terrifying threat: the Disappearances: teenagers who have gone missing from within the City walls, apparently vanishing into thin air. With the City at stake, Lucas has no choice but to call on his old friends - even if seeing them together is more than he can bear.

Release date: March 28, 2013

Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton

Print pages: 433

Sample

‘So, where to begin? School? Hmmm. School was okay. Great in some ways, not so great in others. I’m someone who likes to do things my own way, rather than following rules and that’s not so easy in the regimen of the class-room. But I loved English – I had a wonderful teacher, Miss Pitt, who got me super excited about Chaucer. I really looked forward to those lessons.

Then university. I studied Philosophy, which I loved too – it’s basically about arguing your point. Not just arguing your point; it’s about challenging assumptions, asking difficult questions, having to come up with cogent reasons for things you’ve always just ‘known’ to be true. And I joined a band, too. Lots of fun. We toured Japan, toured France, had an album in the in die charts … I edited the university newspaper, too. If you want to write, I always say that the best thing to do is … write. Don’t talk about it, just do it, and if you wind up writing about something that doesn’t entirely fascinate you then great – writing is hard and you have to work at it. My first job in journalism was writing about pensions – if you can make them interesting, you can make pretty much anything interesting. Going for the hard option is often the best way to learn in my opinion.

So anyway, that’s a bit about me. But you’re probably not really that interested in what I got up to years ago. Maybe you’re more interested in why I wrote my books? If you are, read on …’

Which children’s authors most inspire you?

My favourite children’s authors are those who, in my opinion, make the most of the genre with great story-telling, extensive imagination, and who aren’t afraid to tackle difficult and complicated subjects. Philip Pullman is certainly one, as are Meg Rosoff, Jennifer Donnelly and Jacqueline Wilson. I think that Oscar Wilde’s fairy tales are also absolutely wonderful.

Do you have any particular habits or rituals when you write?

I don’t have too many rituals when it comes to writing — I sit looking out into the garden, which is lovely and I can’t even start thinking about writing until I’ve had a cup of hot, steaming tea. Other than that, I try to clear my mind completely, think about my characters, and then write as much as I can before my next tea break!

What career path would you have taken, if you hadn’t become an author?

I’d like to say an astronaut or an adventurer, but I think I would have ended up writing in some way — perhaps as a journalist, or perhaps working in education. I might even have become a teacher — I think working with young people and getting them excited in a book, a subject or the world around them is about the most rewarding thing you can do.

Does it take a long time to write a novel?

It really depends — it can take weeks, months or even years! Sometimes a book just flows out of you; other times you have to wrench it out.

What inspired you to choose the dystopian setting?

I love to think of a utopia – in this case, a world without evil – and turning it on its head, looking for the flip side. Because the truth is, I don’t think that utopia exists. Humans are fallible and that’s what makes life such a roller-coaster ride. I like the ups and downs; without them things would be very dull. And don’t we all appreciate the summer more after a long, cold winter?

1 THE MATRIX

Just such a brilliant concept and makes you really think about what happiness really means.

2 NEVER LET ME GO

A brutal look at our desperation for health and longevity and what we’ll do to achieve it.

3 1984

Unlike many film adaptations, this film is almost as good as the book it-self. Utterly haunting.

4 LOGAN’S RUN

Life is for pleasure and everyone dies before they’re 30 … Essential viewing for young people everywhere!

5 BLADE RUNNER

Dystopia, sci-fi, human drones … My idea of film heaven!

6 THE TERMINATOR

I love this film and its sequels. Just the right mix of action, emotion and philosophical/political thought.

7 METROPOLIS

A world divided into ‘thinkers’ and ‘workers’ who need each other to survive yet never meet... Made in the1920s but just as relevant now...

8 A CLOCKWORK ORANGE

Utterly terrifying but so well made and very convincing.

9 BRAZIL

Confirms everything I’ve always hated about bureaucracy...

10 SLEEPER

The funniest dystopian film ever made and a warning bell against conformity and following all the rules.

Thomas looked at his boss mutinously. ‘The guy’s a genius and you want me to fire him?’

‘He’s sixteen. You can’t be a genius at sixteen. And even if he is one, he’s a kid. Give him a few years to grow up.’

Thomas’s mouth stiffened as it always did when he didn’t get his own way. Who cared about age? He himself was only nineteen; in the world of computing he felt like one of the old guys, desperately trying to keep up with what was happening. Sixteen was no kid. Sixteen was prime.

But no one else could see that. All they could see was that the ‘kid’ was ruffling feathers; that he did things his own way; that he didn’t care what people thought. And then there was the little incident with the FBI …

Prosser smiled, one of his avuncular grins that usually disarmed people. ‘He just needs to grow up a bit,’ he said, with a little shrug. ‘Learn that we can’t mess with people’s privacy like that. We do things properly around here.’

‘Privacy?’ Thomas looked at him incredulously. ‘Don’t you get it? No one cares about privacy these days. There’s no such thing, anyway. And what this guy can do … It’s years ahead of what anyone else is doing. He doesn’t just tell us what people are buying, he can tell us what they’re thinking, why they’re thinking it. This is the future. What he’s doing now is what everyone’s going to be scrambling for.’

‘And yet we’re still going to let him go,’ Prosser said, gently but firmly, his face changing to his I’m-the-boss-and-you’d-better-get-used-to-it expression. The one Thomas loathed. ‘He hacked into FBI files, for God’s sake.’

‘He hacked into them in five minutes,’ Thomas replied, folding his arms. ‘In five minutes, Prosser.’

Prosser’s face hardened. ‘Was there anything else?’

Thomas shook his head. It was no use. Prosser didn’t get it. He would never get it. People didn’t see what Thomas saw; didn’t see that in that kid’s mind was the future, ideas so incredible they would revolutionise everything. People didn’t see the opportunity, the unbelievable opportunity that lay before them.

They were blind.

But Thomas wasn’t.

He turned, left his boss’s office, then, as soon as Prosser could no longer see him through the glass windows of his office, he stalked quickly down the hallway, down the stairs, and through the corridor that led to his department. He opened the door to the open-plan office that he presided over, stood there for a few minutes just looking at the boy, the boy genius. He was surfing car sites, luxury cars; Thomas had never seen him do any actual work. And for a moment, he was struck by an almost overwhelming envy, because he and the boy seemed to have so little in common; because for Thomas, work meant just that – a long, hard slog to keep up, to edge ahead. But the boy … His whole world was different to Thomas’s. When you were as brilliant as this boy, work wasn’t measured in minutes and hours; it was measured in productivity. And he could do more in a minute than other people could do in a week. Thomas had been following him for months, had offered him work experience the minute he’d finished school. And now he was going to lose him? No. It was impossible.

Cautiously, Thomas walked towards him. ‘So, how’s it going?’ he asked.

The boy shrugged. ‘Okay, I guess.’ He clicked away from the Mercedes website back onto the code he was writing, the work he was supposed to be doing.

Thomas nodded, then pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘How soon until blast off?’

‘Blast off?’ the boy looked at him in derision, but Thomas didn’t allow himself to get upset. He’d been sneered at, ignored, laughed at for most of his life; called ‘dweeb’ and ‘nerd’ and, well, much worse. But he didn’t care, not any more. He was beyond caring about being cool, being liked. None of those things mattered, not now. When you had power it didn’t matter if people liked you. And he was going to have power. ‘Our little project,’ he said. ‘The program we’ve been discussing. How long until it’s ready?’

The boy shrugged. ‘That’s what I keep telling you. It’s never going to be.’

‘Never?’ Thomas felt his stomach tighten. ‘Don’t talk like that, of course it is. How long do you need? Do you need more help? I can get you more help.’

‘There’s really no point,’ the boy said. And he didn’t seem to care. How could he not care? How could he?

Thomas cleared his throat. ‘Of course there’s a point,’ he said. ‘What you’re creating, what you’ve got here, it’s incredible. It’s more than incredible. It has to be built. It has to become real. They don’t understand here, but I do. I’ll pay you myself. Work for me, I’ll find you an office, anywhere you want. Anywhere …’

The boy sighed, swivelled his chair around to face Thomas. ‘Forget it, Thomas. Look, it’s been fun, but I know they want me out of here. And that’s cool. The tea sucks anyway. You need a teapot. Fresh leaves.’

‘So I’ll buy some,’ Thomas said, trying his best to keep the desperation out of his voice. ‘You have to finish.’

‘Why?’ The boy looked at him, eyes boring right into him like they could see what he was thinking.

Thomas stood up in frustration. ‘Because we agreed. Because it’s a great idea. Because you signed a contract,’ he said, trying to keep his voice measured, calm. The contract had been a long shot, but the boy had signed it readily enough when Thomas had promised him access to the entire Infotec server, promised to let him do whatever he wanted. For weeks he had been mopping up the boy’s shit, making excuses, taking the blame, and he hadn’t done that out of the goodness of his heart.

The boy appeared to consider this. ‘I s’pose,’ he said. ‘But like I said, it’s not going to work. I’ll see you around.’

He stood up; it took every bit of self-control for Thomas to resist the urge to shove him back down in the chair again.

‘Okay,’ he said instead, blocking the doorway, buying himself another few seconds, trying to remember to breathe. ‘So what’s stopping it from working? Or, rather, in what circumstances would it work?’

‘None. Not in the real world anyway,’ the boy said dismissively.

‘And in the not-real world?’ Thomas insisted, seeing a glimmer of hope. ‘What then?’

‘Really?’ the boy asked, his interest piqued. ‘You really want to know?’

‘I really want to know,’ Thomas nodded.

‘Okay,’ the boy said. He flopped back down in this chair, twiddled his thumbs. ‘So,’ he said, ‘first you’d need a smaller population because it needs to start small, grow organically, you know? And it’s no point just picking a control group because it won’t work if there are loads of other interfaces and networks buzzing around. You’d need a desert island. A village on a desert island. Few hundred people, maybe a couple of thousand.’

‘Go on,’ Thomas said.

The boy thought for a moment. ‘They’ve all got to be willing to be monitored day and night, so there can’t be any politics, any dissent, anyone talking civil liberties because then it’s dead in the water.’

‘I see,’ Thomas. ‘And what else?’

The boy laughed. ‘That’s not enough? You see? It’s never going to work. Never going to happen.’

‘What else?’ Thomas asked, the tension now audible in his voice.

The boy sat back, put his hands behind his head like he was sunbathing. Thomas half expected him to put his feet up on the desk, right on top of the keyboard.

‘They’ve got to want it,’ the boy said, then, with a shrug. ‘They’ve got to really want it. See, what matters is what people believe, not what is real. You can have the most incredible set up, give people an amazing life, but if they think you’re doing it to them, they’ll hate it. But if it’s something they want and you give it to them … Well, that’s completely different.’ He stood up. ‘So look,’ he said, ‘thanks and stuff.’

He held out his hand; Thomas shook it. ‘And if those conditions are met, you’ll build it? It’ll work? Our contract still stands?’

‘Sure,’ the boy grinned as he walked out of the room. ‘You get the cow to jump over the moon and I’ll do anything you want.’

‘Morning.’

Evie looked up to see Raffy next to her with two steaming hot cups of tea and she quickly sat up and took one from him. ‘What’s the time?’ she murmured.

‘It’s early,’ Raffy said, getting back into bed. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’

Evie moved aside for him and took a sip of her tea. ‘How early?’

‘Four thirty.’

Half an hour before their usual wake-up time. Evie tried to open her eyes properly, but they were rebelling, resisting her request. Instead, she put down her tea and allowed her eyes to close again, her head lolling back against her pillow.

‘Still, exciting day today. We’re being fitted,’ Raffy said. He was bearing down over her; Evie knew he was expecting her to open her eyes, so she did so, managing a little smile before closing them again.

Fitted. For her dress. For his suit. Next week would be their Welcome Ceremony, their formal acceptance into the Settlement.

And it was also going to be the day of their wedding.

‘You don’t look excited.’

Evie looked at Raffy worriedly, but immediately saw that he was joking, teasing her.

‘Of course I’m excited,’ she said, forcing another smile, a light-hearted expression. She was excited, after all. Every time Raffy so much as mentioned the wedding she got jolts all around her body. Excitement, fear; they were the same thing. Sort of.

She closed her eyes for a moment. ‘It’s going to be quite something.’

‘Isn’t it?’ Raffy breathed, rolling off the bed then grinning at her. ‘Married. Seriously. Did you ever think this would happen when we were in the City? Did you?’

Evie opened her mouth to explain that she meant being formally accepted into the Settlement, but she closed it again. She should have meant marrying him. There was something wrong with her. Something terribly wrong and she had to protect Raffy from it, even if she couldn’t protect herself.

They had been here for about a year. After they had left the City for the last time, destroyed the System that had so blighted their lives, they had gone back to Base Camp where Linus and his friends lived, but within days, Linus had told them that they had to find their own place to live, that Base Camp was only a temporary place, that they had to find somewhere that would be a real home. And at first, Evie had refused to countenance the idea, had railed against Linus, told him that they had to stay together, that she’d found a new family and wasn’t going to lose it. But Linus had just smiled at her, those twinkly eyes of his disarming her as he told her about the Settlement, a place he’d never been to but heard great things about, a community of good people where they could live, could flourish.

And eventually Evie had agreed, not because she wanted to go to the Settlement, but because she realised that for Linus, it was over; the battle had been won. It was he who needed to move on; he who needed everyone to leave. Linus was not like anyone she’d ever known. Wise, infuriating, tough, secretive, he had been one of the founders of the City, had built the System from scratch as a benevolent force to meet people’s needs and ensure that everyone was happy. Except the System had been corrupted, the Brother had taken control and, fearful for his life, Linus had left to establish a base from which he communicated secretly with the City, waiting for the right time to disable the System once and for all, to kill off the monster that he had inadvertently created.

Now that was done, Linus had no need for Base Camp any more, and Evie recognised that she and Raffy had to leave, because soon everyone would be gone and they would be left behind with nothing.

And so they had come to the Settlement, with a message from Linus to Benjamin, its leader, a man Linus had met briefly in the early days of the City, a man, he told Evie and Raffy, who had good eyes, which was apparently enough for him to judge the entire Settlement.

But he’d been right, as he usually was.

The Settlement was a cooperative that had been established by Benjamin twenty years before. It had started as a small camp, according to Stern, Benjamin’s second in command, who had shown them around on the day they arrived. He told them that it had grown over the years and was now a sprawling landmass full of houses and farms and people who worked not because a system required it but because they wanted to, because they needed to, because that was what living here required.

Because life was harder here than in the City, Stern had told them, food would not materialise unless they farmed it; buildings would not be erected unless they themselves built the foundations. Here there were no computers, no government jobs and no shops; there was a market for bartering, and there were long days full of hard work.

He’d looked at them then, thoughtfully, as though waiting for them to say something. But they hadn’t; they’d both remained silent, because they had just seen Benjamin walk past, Benjamin whose name was always uttered in revered tones, Benjamin, whose presence could be felt even before he entered a room.

Within the Settlement, Benjamin was like a god; his story one of myth and legend, a fighter who refused to let the Horrors keep him down, who continued to fight, to strive, to motivate, to lead, who set up the Settlement to reward those who had assisted him, who expected the best in people and because of his belief in them, usually got it. No one knew where Benjamin had come from or what his life had been like before the Horrors. There were rumours, of course: he had been a soldier, a priest, an athlete, a politician. But Benjamin never spoke about the past. He and Stern had survived the Horrors together and had determined to build something in the ruins, to offer hope, to offer a future.

And that’s exactly what the Settlement had offered Evie and Raffy. Stern had been right when he said that there were long days of hard work in the Settlement, but life wasn’t harder here than the City, not to Evie, anyway. It was like a paradise to her; so far from the City with its rules and restrictions that she could hardly believe it was on the same planet.

And it was all because of Benjamin.

‘Ah, we finally meet.’

Evie still felt the hairs on the back of her neck stiffen when she remembered meeting Benjamin for the first time. Stern had appeared in front of them, a week after they had first arrived at the Settlement, and asked them to follow him. And as he had led them towards Benjamin’s private quarters, she had felt her heartbeat quicken, had seen Raffy’s posture grow taller, seen his eyes widen just slightly; he, too, had known what was happening, who they were being taken to. Raffy had tried to play down the whole evaluation thing, telling Evie that they were evaluating the Settlement just as much as the Settlement was evaluating them, but as he padded silently behind Stern, she knew that this meeting mattered to him just as much as it did to her. Something had changed in Raffy since they’d got here; for once he seemed genuinely to want to please, to be accepted.

‘So,’ Benjamin had said as they were brought into his room, Evie’s eyes darting round and taking in the low seating, the lack of objects, the simplicity of the space. ‘How do you like this Settlement of ours?’

Evie stared up at him. He was tall, a mountain of a man. And broad; his frame was twice the size of Raffy’s, and even though it was covered in long hessian robes, it was clear from the way he moved that he was strong, muscular, a man not to be challenged lightly. But his eyes were kind, his face genuine. Immediately Evie knew that she would do everything she could to make him like her, to like them both, to make sure that he let them stay here.

They both nodded fervently.

Benjamin smiled. ‘You know, when we started to build this place, I was angry. Very angry at what had happened, at the destruction, the devastation that the Horrors had created. But I knew that anger is itself a destructive force, that I had to let it go if we were going to build a truly good place to live.’

He looked at Raffy, then at Evie; they both blanched. It was as if Benjamin was looking deep inside them and seeing the anger within, the frustration, the resentment.

Evie opened her mouth to reassure Benjamin that they, too, were ready to let their anger go, but to her surprise, Raffy got there first. ‘Anger serves a purpose when there is something to direct it on,’ he said, stepping forwards. ‘Now we are both ready to let go of our anger. We want to be happy. We want to be here.’

As he spoke, Evie’s mouth fell open because she had never heard him sound so earnest; there was no undertone of sarcasm, no knowing look. He felt her gaze; turned towards her. And she’d felt a surge of happiness, because for the first time in her life she saw Raffy looking like he had found his path. He didn’t look tortured; he wasn’t angry, nor sullen. Instead his face was full of determination and focus, and it was infectious.

Benjamin smiled again. ‘I’m glad to hear it. You see, what we’re doing here is building a new life, a new future. The past is another place. Your past, my past, everyone’s past. Our pasts cannot be changed. But we do not have to dwell on them either. We can learn from what has happened and we can move on, look to the future. Out of the worst pain can come strength; out of suffering can come resolve, out of desperation can come love and community. And that is what we have here. A community. A place owned by those within it, ruled by them, organised by them. A place where everyone has a role, where everyone contributes. Does that sound like a place you’d like to live?’

‘Yes,’ Raffy said immediately. Evie nodded too.

‘Good,’ Benjamin said. ‘So let me tell you a little bit about the Settlement. You see, many years ago, there was nothing much here. But there was the river to the north and hills around us for protection; I knew it would be a good place for a new start. There was just a few of us at first, about ten families. We built the first houses, and ploughed the first fields about thirty years ago. We wanted to build a safe community, a peaceful one where no one would go hungry, where no one would be afraid. But more than that, I wanted to build a settlement where people could reach their potential, where they could learn, and discover new things, where no one would be held back. Where children would be the responsibility of everyone, not just their parents. Where everyone would be encouraged to find their purpose, to find fulfilment. Life is nothing if we are not fulfilled, if we don’t feel valued, wouldn’t you agree?

Evie nodded, but again it was Raffy who spoke, who said a resounding ‘yes’. And as Benjamin continued to talk, Evie had watched in wonderment as Raffy transformed in. . .