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Chapter 1 [Four years later] Thump, thump, thump. The noise came again. Echoing around the dimly lit caves of the sewers, bouncing off the walls, filling his ears like a drum. Moaning now, as he had then, Ki wiped sweaty palms against a sweaty brow. Deep inside the nightmare he cowered and shook, trembled, and prayed that the end would come quick. Twelve he had been then but in the nightmare he was sixteen. Above his head the rumbling came again - thump, thump, thump - and he cried out. Beside him Ion and Jez - although they had had different names then that he could not remember - hissed for him to be quiet. If we die now, he thought then and now, then it will be my fault. The rumbling came again, the sewer seemed to shake and he wanted desperately to reach out and hold Jez or Ion's hand but he did not want them to think he was a baby. Louder and louder the noise became and more ragged came their breathing. All of them were now gasping. Three frightened little boys who had so innocently been playing Cowboys and Indians only three weeks ago when the monsters had come and slaughtered the people around them. The rumbling suddenly stopped. In a deathly whisper Jez said, "They're here." And although he didn't want to, Ki found himself looking upwards, drawn to the source of the quietness - the drain above their heads. He had chance to swallow down one thick, dry goblet of spit before the cover was pulled sharply away and light was shone down upon their upturned faces. What happened next was the worst thing that could have happened. In his fear, Ki wet himself. The monsters had come and he was going to die. "NO!" he screamed then and now and shielded his eyes. |
In his bed, his arm came up over his eyes, protecting what could not be protected, shielding something that would not be there for much longer. "No," he breathed out, puffing out the word from between his full lips. "No." The bed moved, the mattress dipped. In the dark, quietness of the room a figure moved down against Ki's bed. His arm came out, cradling the younger man as he had cradled him four years ago. Sobbing and embarrassed, convinced that the end had come. It had not been the end though. The end would have been easier. "Shh, Ki, shh," Jez soothed now. His fingers came down, brushed against the sandy hair that littered Ki's head. "It's just a dream," he whispered. "It's not real." Soon would come the sobbing. Ki would wake, trembling and afraid and he would fall into that fear and weep as he had done then. So many tears he had cried. Being the youngest it was to be expected. Jez was not the eldest though it had become his job to take care of them all. Ion was not made for such a role and only a few months separated them in age. The leader, the protector, Jez had become. Eighteen years of age and already he had nursed his youngest friend through four years of nightmares and torment. Yes, sometimes Jez believed that the end would have been easier. But it had not been the other worlders who had shone that bright light into their eyes. Other human survivors they had been. The knocking had been a code; the number three had just been a coincidence. They had come looking for a man named Jack. It had been Jez's job to inform them that he, along with everyone else in their company, had died. The news had grieved their saviours. Only fifteen of them still stood. Now eighteen with the addition of the three boys. And so they had traded their home in the sewers for one in a basement. Although young they had been put straight to work. Making weapons, patrolling the perimeters, cooking food, tending to the wounded. Again plans were made but none were ever successful. In the dimness of the basement they lived and grew. Four years passed slow and hard. Out |