It was time to open my eyes. It was time to look forward. It was time to stop squinting through the tiny peep holes in the Scavenger van, watching the faces of the Blemished become little specks in a dot of a town. Elena and murder-Troll were part of those specks somewhere. I hoped Elena was okay. I didn’t care about Murder-Troll. The further out of Area 14 the more the tiredness hit me and somewhere along the road I’d closed my eyes and rested my head on my knees. An occasional gun sounded out to let me know that the Enforcers were still following, but according to Ali they wouldn’t risk crossing the border into the Clans.
I’d been pretending to sleep for hours. I listened to The Scavengers chat – their Scottish voices sounded harsh but warm at the same time. Even with closed eyes I knew where Daniel was; I felt him. I felt his presence like the awareness of my own arm. He hadn’t moved from the right side of the van. Angela acted as a protective border so I kept my distance. His breathing was still raspy and tired. I didn’t want to see the sheen of sweat, his pasty face, his blond hair – always messy and stuck up at all angles – plastered to his forehead, damp and lifeless. The boy who never sat still and vibrated with nervous energy and life now lay still and weak. I didn’t want to see his life draining away.
But it was time; time to face my future and stop wallowing in the past. It was time to support my friends, the people who had risked everything for me.
I opened my eyes.
Sebastian smiled at me. Despite the battle, and his fight with the Enforcer in the river, he still looked pretty perfect. There were some minor scrapes along his cheekbone, but his dark hair had dried into a mussed up style that most boys would need hair gel and a mirror to achieve. “Good to see you awake. I was starting to think you had concussion.”
I returned the smile, but when my eyes drifted over to Daniel, it faded. They reached Angela first, whose dark skin had changed to the murky grey of a muddy puddle. Her lips barely formed a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She’d been through a lot, and it was all because of me. I knew how much she loved Daniel, and I couldn’t resent her for that, no matter how jealous she became. She was just a kid, a year younger than me, and unable to understand her own feelings. I got that.
I caught Ali watching me and our eyes met. He’d saved us all from The Enforcers, him and the Scavengers, and now they were taking us to safety in the Clans. There was the smallest of playful smiles on his lips. He watched me watching Daniel with his steady brown eyes. Ali led the Scavengers despite being one of the youngest in the group. He had thick black hair cut short at the sides, brown skin and a large but noble nose. My eyes moved from Ali back to Daniel, curled up and asleep in feverish dreams. His body twitched, and it was like a dagger to my side. This was why I’d spent hours with my eyes closed. I sucked air inwards, trying to control the feelings threatening to bubble to the surface. My fingers twitched, and Mary’s gun almost slipped from her grasp.
“Easy, kid,” Ali said, raising his eyebrows at me.
Mary turned around and tutted. “These aren’t toys fer ye te play with.”
I blushed and looked away. Daniel stirred in his sleep. Ginge popped her chewing gum. Ali shifted on his haunches and attempted to straighten a leg. He was perched on the edge of the crate which doubled up as the step to the machine gun on the roof. Reg and Stevie sat in the front seats, their bald heads side by side like two boiled eggs. Ali flicked an empty bullet shell at the roof of the van and it ricocheted with a ping into his hands. I jumped out of my skin at the noise.
“Yer just a bag of nerves, kid,” he said with a laugh. “Stevie, swap places with the kid will ye.”
“Ach,” Stevie protested, “I’m comfy up ‘ere, eh.”
Ali waggled his finger and Stevie swore. But despite his grumbling he obeyed his boss and hopped over the seat into the back. “Fer effs sake, Ali. It’s tighter than a gnats bum back ‘ere.”
The van erupted into laughter, even Ginge joined in; her voice had a surprising sing-song quality to it. Sebastian turned to her in surprise, noticing her for the first time. I felt the blood rise to my cheeks. I’d never heard language like that before.
Mary looked at me and laughed again. It came right up from her belly. “Ye cannae use that language, we’ve company. The poor Blemished lass is turning pink!”
My hands rose to my cheeks. Ali turned to me and grinned, revelling in my embarrassment.
“Carry on,” I said, annoyed by his obvious joy at my discomfort. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s not like I haven’t heard it before.”
“Then why did ye turn the shade of beetroot?” he replied with a small, smug chuckle.
“It’s hot in here,” I said. “You lot are stinking the place out.”
Ali laughed. “Looks like we’ve got one more stubborn than ye, Mary. Get in the front, kid. Chill out fer a bit.”
I clambered over the seat, aware of my ripped tunic which was not designed for climbing around in. I hoped that Reg didn’t get an eyeful of my underwear. I sighed at myself, I needed to get used to this – it was the freedom I’d always wanted after all. Would I ever get used to it? Was I anything more than a Blemished prude?
As soon as my backside slid down into the front seat my worries and fears drifted away. It was beautiful. In the orange glow of sunset, green valleys dipped away into forests or rose up to hills of yellow moor-grass. Fields were sectioned by the criss-cross of stone walls, and the road snaked through this scene, never-ending.
The background hum of the van comforted me. Nervous anticipation tickled at my stomach. For the first time in what felt like months – but was a few weeks – I had hope again. In a few hours I would see my dad, and even though we’d only been apart for a short while I missed him more than I could even express. I would be able to touch him again, to wrap my arms around his paunch and let him call me Minnie. He’d pat my shoulders, never sure how to comfort me, and hold back his own tears. I’d get to hear him chastise me, and we could practice meditating and sparring. It would be just like old times.
Except that it wouldn’t be like old times. He’d left me. He’d kept things from me; members of my own family. An image popped into my head, the memory of Uncle Matthew being dragged away by the Enforcers, and I exhaled sharply. Reg raised an eyebrow, and I realised how angry I was letting myself become. I decided to concentrate on the rhythm of the van chugging along the road.
The road dipped and rose over rolling hills and churning rivers chasing each other through poppy fields and forests. When we reached an abandoned town the sky turned grey, and the sights disappeared into the forthcoming night. My eyes had to strain through the darkness to see the crumbling buildings: an empty shopping centre, a child’s toy in the gutter, houses with broken windows, and a door hanging loose on its hinges. I wondered how quickly people left after the Fracture, whether they had time to fetch their belongings – photograph albums and teddy-bears rotting away inside the buildings.
I liked the thought of nature taking over in the cities abandoned after the Fracture; ivy growing over rubble, the stalks as thick as my wrist; weeds poking through the cracks in the pavement, pushing the tarmac aside with their roots; trees sprouting in the middle of old shopping centres. Long after humans leave the Earth those weeds would still be going strong, winding their way around our houses and machines, growing until all tenements and office blocks were covered with green. I closed my eyes, comforted by the thought and then I drifted into my first dreamless sleep.
*
I woke up to chaos. Ali’s body disappeared into the roof, and the machine gun choked and spluttered above my head. Mary shouted out words like “chase” and “gaining”. The van veered to the right, and more headlights streamed through the blacked out windows.
“What’s going on?” whimpered Angela.
“Reg, keep the van on the road will ye?” yelled Mary. “Mina, get back here fer cover.”
I clambered back over the seat, my breath coming out in panicked rasps. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t. We’d been safe. We should be safe now. The van careered from side to side.
“They’ve shot a tyre,” Reg shouted. “I cannae keep the van in control.”
“How far te the border?” Mary called back, never taking her eye away from the viewfinder of her rifle.
“Few hundred feet, if that,” Reg replied. The tone of his voice chilled the atmosphere in the van. “It’d as well be a hundred miles. We cannae make it.”
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