Resurgence (3 page)

The box is small enough to hold in my hand, the outside created from a dented piece of metal that came from a car door. Inside, the wires are tightly packed, connected to a numbered dial on the
exterior next to a solid metal button. It’s not entirely unlike the device Xyalis gave to me in the first place that got us out of Windsor. I offer it to Opie but he waves it away.
‘What do I need to do?’ he asks.

I tell him to walk towards me and when he is within a metre, I press the transmit button on the side of the box. Opie shimmers orange and then disappears. For a fraction of a second, my stomach
is in knots. I’ve done something wrong and permanently injured him. Killed him. This was the last time I’d see him.

Opie, my Opie.

It only takes a moment, less time than it takes to breathe, before I hear his voice behind me. ‘Wow, it worked.’

I turn to see him twenty metres away in an open clearing, poking at one palm with the other hand.

‘You’re still real,’ I call after him, unable to hide my relief.

He’s touching his arms, his chest, making sure he’s real. ‘That seemed easy. Why didn’t you try it on an object first?’ I’m confident again now. It worked
– it actually worked.

‘It doesn’t happen like that – it’s for organic, living matter. Anyway, open spaces are simple – I don’t think we could ever risk teleporting into a building
or somewhere with tight walls. It’s like Xyalis said; it’s too easy to jump into the wrong location. Only one thing can occupy a particular spot at any specific time. You and a tree or
a building can’t be in the same place. The device needs an exact location from the dial on the side. The only way round it is how Xyalis had it working – building two doors to walk from
one place to another.’

Opie begins to walk back towards me, taking each step slowly and deliberately as if to make sure the ground is solid. ‘Is that what you’re going to do?’

I shake my head. ‘I don’t have the materials. Even if I could build a door here, where would we build the second one? We’ll have to make do with this for now. If I use
coordinates from the map on my thinkwatch, we might be able to travel some decent distances in a short period of time. It will save a lot of walking.’

‘Can we try again?’

The box is heavy but small enough to fit in my pocket. From using it the first time, the underside feels warm and the coordinate dial isn’t working.

‘It needs time to cool down.’

‘How long?’

‘An hour? I’m not sure. It could depend on how far we travel.’

After a few small adjustments it cools more quickly than with my first attempt and we try again five minutes later. This time, Opie jumps from one side of the camp to the other. Afterwards, it
takes closer to half an hour to cool down.

Opie is almost giddy with excitement at the possibilities but I calm him enough to stop him revealing it to everyone else straight away. The last thing I want is for people to think this is a
toy. I should be more excited at what I have created but it feels like I have stolen someone else’s idea.

Opie suggests that we try the device together, so we hold hands and walk through the shimmering air. With Xyalis’ version, it felt as if something was on my skin, scratching and tickling
from the outside in. This is different. At first there is a loud popping in my ears and then it is as if someone has their fist clenched on the skin at the centre of my chest. They are pinching and
pulling as an orange haze clouds my vision until there is a second pop. Suddenly, I am blinking rapidly, trying to clear my vision. I am stood almost a hundred metres away from the spot next to the
car bonnet where I had been standing.

Something is squeezing my hand tightly and I have to look down to realise it is Opie. ‘Are you okay?’ he asks.

‘It feels different to last time, when we escaped Windsor.’ Opie’s eyes widen and I peer over my shoulder before realising he is staring at me. ‘What?’

He touches my top lip, showing me the blood on his index finger. ‘Did you get a nosebleed last time?’

I shake my head truthfully but don’t tell him about the nosebleed I had after travelling up the lifts in the North Tower with Imrin. As his brow furrows deeper, I slap Opie’s hand
away and tell him I’m fine. It isn’t actually a lie; unlike after my journey in the lift, my head is clear and I don’t feel dizzy.

To stop him fussing, I re-examine the transmitter box, which doesn’t feel any warmer than it did when I sent Opie this distance on his own.

‘What does that mean?’ Opie asks when I tell him.

‘That the cool down is not affected by how many people it transmits, simply by how far we travel.’

‘Samuel and I could have done with that when we were searching for your list of scrap parts.’

‘Why?’

Opie sits on the floor and uses his finger to draw a giant oval in the sand. He points to a spot in the centre. ‘We’re here, right?’

‘Okay . . .’ I agree.

He points to a spot outside the oval that is Martindale and then the woods that separate the village from the gully. ‘We found most of your stuff pretty easily but the only area I know
really well is close to the woods where we used to hang around.’ He puts another cross about an eighth of the way around the oval. ‘We saw a Kingsman here.’

‘In the woods?’

‘
Past
the woods, on the edge of the gully.’

From his crude drawing, I try to figure out where he means. ‘Isn’t that just trees there?’

‘Yes.’

‘And it’s not even on the Martindale side?’

Opie looks as worried as I feel. ‘No.’

‘Was he on his own?’

Opie nods. ‘He had this thing with him. Me and Samuel were at the bottom of this pile of junk and he couldn’t see us but there was this bird-like thing buzzing around him.’

‘He had a bird?’

Opie is struggling to explain himself and makes a triangle shape with his fingers, trying not to make it obvious how frustrated he is. ‘Sort of. It was hovering next to him and he was
holding a grey box thing.’ He nods at the one in my hand. ‘Like that.’

I try to think of what it might be but I draw a blank. There is very little technology I saw at Windsor Castle that I didn’t understand but this sounds different. Opie is watching
expectantly, as if I can explain what he saw.

I pocket the device and take his hand. ‘Show me.’

Opie leads me along the trail of rubbish towards Martindale, making quick work of a journey that might usually take up to an hour because of the rough terrain and steep piles of rubbish. We are
only halfway there when I grab his arm and pull him into a gap between two piles of fridges.

‘What?’ he says, rubbing his arm.

I hold a finger to my lips and roll my eyes upwards, keeping my voice low. ‘Is that what you saw?’

Above us, there are three metallic objects that each look like overlapping diamonds. From a distance they would be easily mistaken for birds but from underneath, there is a red dot flashing on
what would be a tail.

Opie nods, whispering too. ‘What are they?’

I tug him deeper into the nook, sheltering underneath a flap of something jagged and dangerous-looking. ‘At Windsor Castle, flashing red lights meant cameras.’

Opie grips my arm hard. ‘How did they know we were here?’

‘They probably didn’t but it’s not a bad place to start. There’s no way they would have been able to search this area on foot unless they sent in hundreds of Kingsmen.
Even then they wouldn’t know the area well enough. If those things are filming, they can fly over huge spaces in no time.’

We watch as the metal birds hover overhead, dancing in and out of each other’s paths before zipping off in three separate directions.

I expect our journey back to the camp to be a panicked one, ducking in and out of hiding places to avoid the strange bird-like objects. Instead, the sky is clear and everything is as it was when
we left. Imp, Eli and Felix are playing hide and seek on the far side of the clearing.

Opie bellows at them to get inside, predictably having to tell Imp off for talking back to him, and we gather everyone in the makeshift shelter. Briefly, we explain about the bird shapes in the
sky and tell them we have to stay indoors, at least temporarily.

It is over an hour until I begin to relax. Imp is trying to tickle the backs of my knees and people’s conversations have become louder than a whisper. Pietra has separated herself from
Hart and waits until I am by myself before sidling across.

‘How is he?’ I ask.

Pietra smiles coyly. ‘Can you make him ill again? I didn’t realise how cheeky he was until now.’

I smile, remembering the old Hart from before he became an Offering. Back then, he was the kid everyone knew around the village. Strong and fun. Cheeky is certainly the word.

‘You make a good couple.’

She seems even shyer, although it isn’t as if she has done much to hide it. ‘He’s been talking about sneaking me away to see his parents.’

They both live in Martindale. It is only a few miles but there are too many Kingsmen around.

‘That’s a really bad idea,’ I say.

Pietra touches me on the arm. ‘I know. It’s nice to dream, though.’

She tails off but I can’t deny her that. When Imrin and I thought we would never escape from Windsor Castle, we spent evening after evening talking about the things we would do when we got
away, knowing it would likely never happen.

I am about to tell her that we’ll try to think of a way to do it when a low droning noise sounds in the distance. Everyone goes quiet, all eyes shooting towards me.

‘Is that one of your bird things?’ Pietra asks, but I shake my head.

The humming begins to get louder and I edge towards the open doorway, staring up to the sky. Instinctively I begin rubbing my arms as a shadow creeps across the clearing ahead, dropping the
temperature by a few degrees. The roar is directly overhead, booming so loudly that I have to cover my ears. The ground is shaking.

As it skims away, I hear Imp’s voice, excited and scared. ‘What is it, Mummy?’

I answer for her: ‘It’s a plane.’

The adults turn to each other in confusion. They are old enough to remember planes from before and during the war. I have never seen an aeroplane in my life but they are in all
of the war videos we have grown up with. Xyalis told us that he had been on the side that ordered a bombing raid on one of the rebellion strongholds in Lancaster. Now it is a flattened mass of
rubble and destruction.

As Imp and Eli run around with their arms outstretched trying to replicate the noise, I catch my mother’s eye. We both know what this means. Within a few seconds we hear the sound of
something whirring through the air and the roar of an explosion in the distance. The ground rumbles, stopping the children’s game as they look to us for an answer about what has just
happened.

Opie is standing closest to me. ‘Didn’t Xyalis say they used the last of the fuel?’

‘Maybe they had some stored, or managed to buy some from another country?’

‘Why would they use it now?’

The only answer is one barely worth thinking about – that they think they have a good reason to.

None of us seems to know what to say until Colt’s voice cuts through the sound of something else hitting the ground. ‘Silver!’

He is sitting by himself in the corner watching the thinkpad I fixed for him that allows him to watch programmes. On the screen is a breaking news graphic with a picture of me holding
Opie’s hand, staring at the sky with the other hand shielding my eyes. The silver swish of hair billowing across my face makes it unmistakably me as the words ‘home town’ and
‘Martindale’ scroll across the bottom of the screen.

They know where I am – and that Opie is with me.

Another growl rips under our feet and Jela stumbles from the impact.

‘That was closer,’ Opie calls.

I tell Colt he has done a great job being vigilant and ask if I can take the thinkpad, which he hands over. The danger isn’t just from an explosive being dropped on us. Because of the
haphazard way many of the objects in the gully have been dumped, anything exploding nearby could cause a chain reaction that sets everything falling in on itself. Even the structure we are in is
made from three cars holding each other up.

Everyone seems to be looking to me as if I know what to do. It is when I see my mother’s eyes expectantly asking the question that I realise I have to do something.

‘Quickly – pack everything you can,’ I say, looking around the space. ‘Don’t overdo it. If you aren’t going to need it, leave it. Clothes and blankets are
priorities.’ When I realise no one is moving, I clap my hands. ‘Let’s go!’

Everyone shifts at once, grabbing what they can from the floor as Evan, Samuel and Felix head to the lean-to outside where their things are kept.

‘What are we going to do?’ Opie asks as we watch the bedlam unfold around us.

The ground shakes again – the explosions are getting closer. I hurry across to Hart, who is sitting on the bed staring at the floor, Pietra hugging his arm. ‘We’ve got to get
ourselves safe first,’ I say.

‘My parents are too old to escape.’

I don’t have the heart to tell him that there was no warning of an attack anyway. Assuming it is Martindale that has been bombed, and given the ferocity of the quakes beneath our feet, it
is unlikely many have survived.

I look at Pietra, telling her silently that she has to get Hart moving. She starts rubbing his back and whispers something in his ear.

In the centre of the space, Imp is sitting by himself hugging the soft tortoise. I hiss at Opie, telling him to make sure we are ready to move, and then join Imp on the floor.

‘What’s happening?’ he asks, young eyes full of fear and lacking their usual mischievous sense of adventure.

I take the toy from him, brushing away a few specks of sand and squeezing it before handing it back. ‘Do you remember what I told you when I gave you this?’

Imp screws up his eyes and sucks on his bottom lip. ‘You told me about its shell.’

‘What did I say?’

‘That if anyone came or there were loud bangs, I had to take Colt and Eli and hide, like the tortoise hides in his shell.’