Tremor: If your world was falling apart, how far would you go to save it? (The Tremor Cycle) (16 page)

Igraine nodded.

William jumped the last couple of feet and landed safely at the bottom. The smell hit him first, and he cupped his nose. They were standing in a small room, with a basin and toilet on one side and empty shelves on the other. The floor was littered with wrappers and tins, and a single, dust-ridden mattress filled one corner.

And on it were two skeletons in an embrace.

‘They must’ve run out of food. But I wonder why they didn’t leave?’ Althea’s voice was muffled through her fingers. She handed him a photo of two elderly people, smiling outside the house.

William shrugged. ‘They were old, maybe they chose it?’ He looked at the photo. Two smiling faces stared up at him, embracing each other as they were now. The elderly woman wore a heart-shaped necklace, and as he looked back to the mattress, he saw she still wore it now. He placed the picture back in its position, dusting off the layers of grime on its surface.

‘I don’t think there’ll be much left then,’ he said, fingering a pile of crisp packets. He walked over to the shelves and picked up a half-empty jar of pickles, some of them furry with mould. ‘Can’t risk these.’ Behind the pickles were empty soup cans. William pushed them to one side.

‘Hang on, what’s this?’ One of the tins was full.

‘Noodle soup,’ he exclaimed, running his finger around the sealed lid. He threw it to his friend.

Althea broke into a broad grin. ‘No way, I can’t believe you found this! Aren’t you glad we stopped here now? Ori will be so happy.’

They quickly climbed back up the ladder and joined Igraine and Ori by the now-roaring fire. Igraine had used some carpet and the remains of the table to block the windows, so the place looked relatively secure. William let his shoulders relax a little as he took a place by the fire with Althea.

He shuffled next to Ori and presented him with the soup. Ori’s face lit up as he took hold of it, and he quickly passed it to Igraine, licking his lips.

Igraine pulled out a small penknife and opened the tin lid. ‘This must be a sign that our luck is changing,’ she said, going over to the fire and balancing the tin amongst the larger pieces of smouldering debris. ‘A decent hot meal, even a small one, is a definite blessing.’

William nodded, wondering if the people down in the bunker knew their fate and had left one tin in case someone else could be saved. He hoped that was the case. He wanted to believe such kindness still existed in this world.

‘I can’t wait, I’m so hungry,’ said Ori, patting his tummy.

Igraine poked the sizzling flames, keeping the tin in the middle of the heat. And soon enough, it was ready.

‘Who wants first taste?’ asked Igraine, carefully taking the hot can off the fire and placing it on the floor.

‘Youngest first, of course,’ said William. They’d found some spoons in what used to be the kitchen and cleaned them as best they could with old newspapers. He passed a spoon to Ori, and he took a small amount, offering it back to William.

‘Have a bit more,’ William said, nodding. Ori was the frailest, and William knew he needed this more than any of them.

William held up his hand when the tin came his way after Ori, insisting that Althea and Igraine went next. He waited, twiddling his thumbs, and when he finally took a spoonful, he savoured the warm noodle soup as it brought his taste buds back to life. He closed his eyes briefly. Delicious.

The tin was soon empty and though they’d had to share it between four, William’s stomach was gurgling contentedly. He lay down in between Althea and Ori, the heat of the fire soothing the aches that travelled through his body, and settling the pain in his forehead. Minutes later, he was asleep.

Chapter 14

A Figure of Peace

There were no stars in the sky. A bad omen, Ichabod decided. They’d been hiding in the bushes for hours. After outrunning the group of bandits, it was agreed they’d lay low for a while.

Thoughts of William and the others came to mind. He prayed they had managed to make it to safety. As far as he knew, all the bandits had followed the bus, so there was hope.

‘Are we sure we lost them?’ whispered Blake, huddled under the foliage with Ichabod and Branimir either side of him, the latter’s great muscular form taking up much of the space.

Ichabod looked back at the bus, which they had hastily covered in branches and leaves. It wasn’t a good job; a partially sighted man could easily spot it. He sighed, heavily.

‘We’ll have to make a move soon,’ said Blake, his blue eyes focused on the gloom in front. ‘My joints are starting to freeze in this position.’

Ichabod placed a hand on the ground and listened. ‘Listen. They’re coming back!’ he said.

The sound of motors could just be heard in the distance.

‘Bandits won’t give up so easily, not when they’re hungry,’ said Branimir. ‘Back on the bus, we might have enough of a head start.’

Ichabod quickly rose. Branimir pushed himself up with the help of an axe. The lethal weapon might have been old, but it still had the power to strike fear into the hearts of any enemies that approached, especially when they saw the figure that held it.

Whoosh! They weren’t quick enough and an arrow connected with the foliage beside them.

‘Come on, quick!’

Blake withdrew his silver crossbow and followed Ichabod. The bus’s engine kicked into action. How much more could the old girl take? Ichabod willed the battered vehicle to hang on a little longer, as it once again lurched through the trees.

Ichabod looked to the sky, flecks of light beginning to show amongst the dark: stars. Was it a sign? ‘Please, guide me through this,’ he whispered. ‘Please get me to her.’

‘We might have to stop and fight,’ Branimir observed, as the bus’s engine objected to Ichabod’s rough gear changes.

‘No, not while there is a chance to escape,’ Ichabod said.

‘I agree with him.’ Blake was as white as sheet.

Branimir gripped his axe with ferocity. ‘Come lads, feel that burning, that yearning in your hearts to fight evil. We still have the fight left in us.’

‘I only yearn to help my wife,’ said Ichabod, tone monotonous. ‘I’ll fight for her, and her only.’

‘I know you love her, but make sure your path doesn’t lead you towards your poor children instead.’

Ichabod flinched. ‘When the bough breaks,’ he said softly, before shifting gear and smashing the bus through an unusually solid fence.

‘Ha ha! One of their motorcycles just flipped,’ exclaimed Blake, slapping his hand against his thigh.

‘His prayers must be working,’ Branimir said to the younger man. ‘Let’s hear another, Vicar.’

Ichabod felt the bitter resentment clinging to his tongue, but it quickly faded. Branimir meant well. The verse flowed from his tongue like silk, ‘He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.’ He took a breath. ‘Revelation 21:4.’

‘Amen to that,’ whispered Blake, turning to Branimir. ‘He’s still got the power of the voice, you can’t deny that.’

Ichabod suddenly slammed on the brakes. ‘I just had a thought, about fighting. It might actually be a good idea. We don’t want to lead these swine to the others, do we?’

‘That’s the spirit, Ichabod old fellow!’ said Branimir, kicking open the bus’s doors and jumping off. ‘Try to disable them so they can’t follow us.’

Ichabod rose from his seat and pulled out his cane. He ran a finger over the cross carved into its circular handle. A man of peace is guided by peace, but when that peace is threatened, he has a choice to either kneel down and die silently as it falls into chaos, or fight for it and not look back. He’d fought all his life and he’d probably fight on in death. Fight for what’s right. That’s what everyone should do.

‘And so I go forth, to fight,’ he whispered, slowly getting off the bus, shouts of fear from Blake already breaking the night air. He wasn’t going to die on this night, not if desire had anything to do with it. He’d fight an army to save his wife.

Chapter 15

Scattered Souls

The tremor came, a heavy rumbling interrupting his dream. Large rocks crushed his bones, pushing him into the dirt. He tried to breathe, but the pressure on his chest was too great. He felt his heart pound as his lungs searched for air.

The ground shook again and the pressure released its hold on him. He could breathe once more, but found he couldn’t move. The tremor struck yet again, this time opening a small crack in the rock below him. He tried to grip the earth around him but it fell away. And after a brief futile struggle, so did he.

He screamed through the air, the souls of the dead rising from the deep pit to greet him, spinning cobwebs around him, trying to prevent him from breaking into a thousand pieces on the jagged ground below. But it was all in vain.

He awoke with a start, heart almost lurching into his throat. The cold was like an anti-duvet, sucking away his internal body heat. William wrapped his arms around himself, gripping his ribs.

The nightmare had been too much, too real. It was as if the tremors had become an intelligent enemy intent on sending him mad. He massaged his head. Remember, the tremors weren’t alive, they weren’t gods, he told himself sternly. That’s the way Terrafall thought, not the way it was.

He grabbed up the coarse fabric that made up his bed and draped it around his shoulders. The others were all sleeping peacefully and he was mindful of disturbing them. Walking into the hall, he saw the dark sky was showing the first signs of light. He’d sit on the veranda and watch the sunrise. Sleep would be impossible now, so that’d help pass time until dawn.

The floorboards of the narrow porch, which ran around the farmhouse, creaked under his footsteps; one collapsing under his weight. ‘Easy,’ he whispered, balancing carefully.

Sitting on a firm part of the railing, he gazed out across the dreary, uneven landscape that edged beyond the farmhouse. Dusty dunes of rubble sat solemnly in the scorched fields; pastures that would’ve once been filled with grazing animals and signs of life.

William closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sky. ‘It’s horrible Mum, all of it. You’re out there somewhere and I promise I’ll find you. We’ll change this, we’ll make it better, like Dad wanted. We have to.’

The wind breathed across the fields like a raspy voice from someplace lost. Something creaked behind him. He turned, fearful, but it was only Igraine.

‘We’ll find her,’ she whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. ‘And then things will get better. We will stop this crazy woman who seems to have Terrafall in her thrall.’

‘It might be too late,’ William said. ‘Look at what’s happening around us with the bandits, Enforcers, Scavengers and people down in that bunker. Do you not think society’s too far gone?’

Igraine shook her head. ‘The Haven Development will reach out to all remaining communities and help them survive. And there will be no more sacrifice and suffering.’

‘I hate Terrafall so much…’ said William, shaking his head.

‘Me too,’ whispered Igraine, sitting next to William on the railing. ‘I witnessed them rising to power shortly before we started to enter the bunkers, but at the time I didn’t think there was a threat. I just thought it was a disaster relief organisation, helping people during the war. I can’t help thinking I should have done something to stop it when I had the chance, but I was naïve and too caught up in what was going on around me.’

‘What did you do before all this happened?’

‘I was a Member of Parliament for the North of England, and one of the key figures in charge of the Northern Bunker Project,’ Igraine said, sad eyes staring up to the grey, rippling sky. ‘My husband was also Mayor of Kentvale so there was no excuse – we should’ve seen the signs, should’ve acted. But we didn’t, and my husband ended up being killed shortly after leaving the bunkers. I would’ve been next if I hadn’t escaped and found Branimir and the Hollow. Terrafall didn’t want people of conscience in authority.’

‘Wow,’ said William, before mouthing a second ‘wow’. ‘Chris, a kid from my school, said his dad was given the mayor’s role after we left the bunkers. He’s Terrafall’s pet; does whatever it says. Do you think Terrafall got rid of your husband?’

‘I know it did. He had such strong support from the people he was probably seen as a threat. I wish I could’ve stopped it, but you can’t stop what you do not see coming.’ Igraine buried her head in her hands.

‘You might not have stopped Terrafall, but at least you saved lots of people. Without the bunkers where would we be now?’ He grabbed Igraine’s hands, moving them away from her face.

‘I suppose you’re right. I just wish I’d looked into the management of Terrafall, researched them a little more, got some background information at the very least, and then I might have known who Erisia was before she took charge after the war. I might’ve been able to stop her before she gained enough influence.’

‘I don’t think Terrafall started off as evil that’s the thing, I don’t think anything really does,’ William said. ‘So, I guess you wouldn’t have known what she’d planned even if you did look into it. Terrafall turned to sacrifice when everything else it tried didn’t work. The whole organisation is crazy, probably turned that way by her. Think of what happened in World War Two… so many people influenced by one man’s mad beliefs!’

Igraine smiled. ‘You do know how to make an old fool feel better, dear.’ She nudged him lightly. ‘I think we should wake the others and head into the village to look for supplies.’

‘Then we go and find the Stone Cross Hotel?’

‘Yes,’ replied Igraine, carefully sliding off the railing. ‘Off to our destinies.’

After a breakfast of a few mouthfuls of loose grain and water, they packed their paltry finds into a worn backpack that Igraine had unearthed amidst piles of debris in the hallway. Ori had found some plastic bottles that Althea filled with water from the basin in the bunker, which surprisingly still ran clear.

They walked through the doorless entrance, across the stone path and stood facing the farmhouse. William thought of the elderly couple inside and silently thanked them for the tin of soup, hoping they were someplace better now.

The town of Shoe wasn’t far away, but nothing much remained of it. The church was the only building that still held some of its identity; the other buildings had just slumped in on themselves, their roofs long burned away. William wandered across the shattered bitumen that made up the main street; heading towards what he guessed was the village shop. Its sign was rusted and had swung off its hinges, balancing halfway through a large display window.

‘We might as well check in here. It’s the most obvious place for food,’ said William, touching the bandaged cut on his forehead as he spoke. ‘Other people probably had the same idea, but they might have missed something.’

‘Stop fiddling with it,’ said Althea, lips pursed, indicating the cut.

He looked at his fingers. The tips were faintly stained red. ‘Can’t help it, it’s starting to bother me again,’ said William, stepping through the shop’s shattered window.

‘Let’s hope we find some clean bandages too.’

‘His head won’t fall off, will it Alfie?’ said Ori, wedged into Igraine’s side.

Althea rolled her eyes, not even bothering to answer him, and followed William.

Their first observation had been right. The place had been raided long ago, but William walked down each aisle anyway, reaching his hand right to the back of every shelf and running it along until he came to the end. Only piles of dust remained; there was nothing edible or helpful.

He wandered to the back of the shop, and although he knew it was a silly idea, he lifted the freezer lids. A horrible lingering smell was the only thing left. That and what he suspected were bones. He quickly moved away.

‘There’s nothing down here,’ he told the others. ‘We should move on.’

‘Check the stock cupboard at the back,’ said Althea, rummaging around behind the till. ‘There might be something in there. Don’t give up so easily.’

William walked to the rear stock door, which was still intact. His hand shook as he reached for the handle, the question of why the door hadn’t been breached playing on him. Why wasn’t it broken through? Was it hiding something? Or someone? It might’ve been hiding another hatch… He ignored his fear and forced himself to open it.

It swung inwards with a brief squeak. He peered in and saw something swinging from the ceiling. What the…? Was it a pair of shoes? He frowned and held his breath. Yep, it was a pair of white trainers. He slowly reached out and took hold of them and a skeleton fell to the ground, breaking into pieces and kicking up dust. William leapt back and quickly slammed the door.

‘Th–there’s nothing in there,’ he said, as Ori came up behind him. ‘Go find Alfie.’ Ori obeyed without question, for once, and William was left wondering if that person had taken the easy way out or something more sinister had occurred. He paused for a moment, but quickly drove out the former view. Taking your own life would never be easy, even if you were desperate.

‘Look at this! I’ve found a bottle of vodka, it was hidden under the counter, oh, and a tie,’ said Althea. She was standing by the till. ‘Not quite sure what we could use these for, mind you.’

William scratched at his forehead. ‘I know things are serious, but I think drinking alcohol at our age is stupid.’

‘You could use it to clean Will’s sore,’ said Ori, pointing at William’s wound. ‘And maybe use the tie as a new bandage.’

Igraine stopped rooting through a dilapidated chest of drawers and considered him. ‘For a young soul you are very wise.’

‘Grandad taught me loads of things,’ replied Ori, not looking up, ‘but a lot of it’s hard to remember at times.’

William turned his attention to Althea, who was uncapping the alcohol. ‘It’s going to hurt, isn’t it?’

‘Probably,’ said Althea, as she walked towards him. ‘But if we don’t do this then you could end up with an infection.’

‘O–okay,’ said William, swallowing hard. ‘Go for it.’

Althea knelt down. ‘Put your head on my knees,’ she ordered.

Squirming, William obeyed and peeled off the crusted bandage. ‘How does it look?’

‘I’m not going to lie; it’s getting worse,’ replied Althea, telling Ori to find her some fabric to use to apply the vodka. ‘You should’ve seen a medic when we were in Haven!’

‘I know.’ He sighed. ‘I did kind of sort it out myself though. It just didn’t seem like an urgent thing back then. Getting answers was more important.’

The liquid seemed to take an age to make contact with the wound, but when it did it hurt like hell. William kept his eyes closed, clenching them more tightly as Althea applied more liquid. It felt as though a thousand tiny knives were being driven into his raw flesh. ‘Flippin’ crap, it hurts!’ he shouted.

‘That should be enough, wrap the tie around his head, dear,’ said Igraine, pulling back William’s hair.

‘Make it tight,’ spluttered William, biting down hard, trying to distract himself from the blistering sensation.

‘Try not to scream so loudly. You’re scaring Ori.’ Althea wrapped the black tie around his head, pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to him. ‘Drink now.’

William’s teeth were still stuck together but he nodded, prised them open and took a small sip. ‘God, that hurt. Don’t suppose you have any aspirin do you?’

‘Nope, you’re just going to have to deal with it.’ Althea gave his shoulder a sympathetic rub. She looked around. ‘Where’s Ori gone?’

‘Over here.’ Ori appeared with two tins in his hands. ‘Look, tinned peaches and sweetcorn. I found them under the counter, tangled in old electric cords.’

‘Wow,’ said William, in spite of his pain. ‘Well done, mate. Peaches and corn. Amazing.’

The others congratulated Ori, and Igraine slid the tins into the backpack.

‘Well, that was worth it,’ said Althea, as they walked in the direction of Stone Cross.

‘We certainly left that store with much more than we’d hoped for,’ Igraine agreed.

William didn’t say anything and plodded on silently, trying hard not to focus on the destruction evident in the burnt-out buildings they were passing. He was still worried about his head because it didn’t feel right. Maybe he needed stitches? He scoffed at the thought. Stitches didn’t exist in this part of the world anymore, or if they did, he’d need to find a hospital, or at least a nurse. Fat chance of that happening. He knew one person who could fix his head though, but she was just too far away.

They had what they needed now: supplies to last them until they got to Stone Cross Hotel; plus an increasing determination to finish this. William couldn’t wait to make Terrafall pay for what it’d done to his family and community.

The last houses of Shoe quickly faded into the harsh clouds. They continued through the countryside, helping each other over the rough terrain created by the tremors.

A bitter wind whistled across the open fields, bringing with it flecks of white cold diamonds. William dusted the snowflakes from his black jacket. He used to love the first sight of snow. Now it was just a reminder of happier times that were gone forever.