After the Fear (Young Adult Dystopian) (8 page)

I’m crouching on the floor, my chest heaving as I stand before the expanse of tarmac. Thankfully, the Herd officers are asleep because otherwise they’d think I was insane. After I’ve stepped from the shaft, the door whirs quietly as it slides back into place.

The ‘playground’ is kind of eerie. It smells almost familiar, like an allotment or vegetables growing in a humid greenhouse. The light from the watchtower shines across the tarmac in streaks. Even though it’s silent, the quiet seems to rage in my mind like the buzz of white noise. Now the need for a drink has passed from my throat to my stomach. Each time my head thumps it’s shouting ‘water, water, water!’

Here goes. I dart around the yellow glow, my bare feet tapping on the ground as I stick to the shadows, one eye on the sleeping Herd officers. When I reach the steps to the watchtower, I grasp the cool handrail and take a moment to recover my breath. I wish my heart would stop pounding so hard in my chest.

The steps don’t even creak as I climb. The silence tells me I’m being sneaky, and right now I’m not sure this is such a good idea. Maybe my thirst can wait. I’ll go back to the pod and try to sleep.

‘This is absurd!’

That voice. Clipped anger has replaced the usual slow, pronounced tones of Mr Winters. My body goes cold, as though all my blood has run for its life. I don’t dare move, fearing one moan from the stairs will be enough to alert him that I’m here.

‘Nonsense Albert! We have to look into all of these matters. There’s no need to worry yourself over a small investigation.’ This cheery voice I don’t recognise. It’s male, and I’m so scared I need to giggle at Mr Winters’ first name. I’m not even sure if Coral knew it was Albert. I ease myself up the last few steps, holding my breath while inching closer to the door.

‘What happens then?’

Is it possible, Mr Winters sounds almost—frightened?

‘It will all get brushed under the carpet, of course. You’ve been loyal to us for over twenty years; my father had great ties with your family. You can trust us to look after you.’

‘I can assure you I was only thinking of securing the Shepherds’ power, I—’

‘Great stuff, great stuff, and I know all that, I do. Trouble is, you can’t go around cherry-picking people without some consequences. You know the system for choosing people for the Debt. There’s a quota we must abide by and city Juliet is all over the place. It’s all very boring, I know, but it has to be done. More tea?’

I hope that Mr Winters is better than his daughter at picking up on nuances, because the other man’s friendly tone couldn’t be more unsettling if he were shouting.

‘Very well. I look forwards to when this is all sorted out.’

He almost gets away with it, but Mr Winters’ last word goes up like he’s asking a question.

‘Great stuff. Goodnight, Albert.’

Crap. I pause, searching for somewhere to hide. It’s too late to run down the stairs, but there’s nowhere else. The scanner beeps.

I crouch in the corner of the platform just before the door slides open.

Please, shadows cloak me. . . .

Light escapes out the door and Mr Winters emerges. By some miracle, he’s concentrating on his digipad, and within seconds he’s half way down the stairs and the door has slid shut once more, trapping the light back in with it.

I exhale so slowly it’s like I’m not doing it at all, blowing the air over my bottom lip so that it’s noiseless. When I bring my hands to cover my nose and mouth, I realise I’m shaking. Mr Winters hits the last step and rounds the stairs so that he’s nearly underneath me. I follow him with my stare, every muscle in my body screaming as I hold them still.

He stops and takes one last look towards the watchtower.

His eyes meet mine. They widen a fraction. Then, his courteous smile is back—the one which makes my insides crawl. He gives me a slow nod, which seems to say
this isn’t the last of me
, before disappearing from the watchtower’s light and into the shadows.

THAT NERVOUS FEAR must have taken up permanent residence in my bones. I stand on the playground the next morning, chewing my thumbnail relentlessly.

‘I don’t feel very well,’ Alixis mutters beside me. She woke me this morning completely unaware of my midnight adventure. She also discovered our digipads in the bedside cabinet, but this time our Debtbook had been updated with instructions to be dressed and outside by seven. The clothes I found turned out to be our uniforms. They’re practically identical to our sleeping clothes: white T shirts and sweatpants that don’t exactly keep out the cold. I wrap my arms around my shoulders and do a few jogs on the spot to warm up.

‘Try not to think about anything,’ I reply. By
anything
, I mean everything. The tryouts, the tour, the fact that we’re both killers. . . . ‘That’s what I’m trying to do.’

‘I just wish we could speak to our families through the digipads,’ she tells me for the fourth time this morning. Our pads have been altered so that we can’t comment on anyone else’s Debtbook profiles. We can only update our own statuses. Unlike before, where only my contacts from Juliet could write on my profile, now anyone ‘following’ me can comment. I already have pages of praise from the tryouts. I sigh.

‘Yeah, I know. Anyway, you had a good look at everyone who died, didn’t you? That’s probably why you feel sick,’ I say without looking over. Okay, I’m being mean, but I can’t try and be friendly with someone who has no regard for what she—what we both—did. Alixis’ brow furrows for a moment. She shakes her head.

‘I was saying prayers for the deceased,’ she mumbles.

Oh.

She doesn’t need to say anymore. We both know why she was being discreet. The Book of Red Ink replaced the Bible long ago. My family were never religious, but I know some people still pass the teachings of their faith down in secret. Dad said that when the Shepherds first came to power, they even tried to ban words like ‘god’ or ‘lord’, but they had been adopted so readily into language that the Shepherds had to give up. I bite my lip.

‘Sorry. Um, Mr Winters said you were from city Alpha. What’s it like there?’ I ask, trying to ease the tension as we wait to be greeted by whoever wanted us out here. Of course I’ve heard what people are like in Alpha—totally elitist and close to paying back their Debt—but I don’t have anything else to ask her about. I take another grateful sip from one of the many water bottles Alixis found underneath her bed, along with two first aid packs and some extra blankets. If only I’d thought to look there last night.

Alixis smiles, looking to a place only she can see. ‘It’s home. I’ve been away for so long, I’m worried I’ll forget what it’s like, but I’ll always know that it is home.’

Something doesn’t add up.

‘So long? It’s only been two days.’

‘Maybe for you. I was held with the rest of them in that dingy cell for a week. The tryouts are at the end of the month so if you’re chosen before that, well, they have to keep you somewhere, drugged up and unwashed. A few of the others had been in for longer.’

‘I’m sorry. That’s awful.’

‘It was. Although, it made me really want to survive.’ She gives me a sly smile. ‘Thanks for saving me from that arrow by the way.’

I shrug in what I hope is a
think nothing of it
way. I can’t work her out. She looks older than me, but acts younger and seems more than a little wary. Then again, neither of us is exactly showcasing our personalities right now. It’s been a rough few days. I’m still surprised Mr Winters didn’t sneak into our pod in the night and inject me with poison after he realised I had overheard his conversation. ‘Cherry-picking’—that’s what the other man accused him of. Did he mean the way Mr Winters picked me?

‘Our new Demonstrators!’ A cheery voice greets us from across the tarmac. It’s as if I summoned him from my thoughts or something because I instantly recognise the mystery voice from last night. He looks around Alixis’ age, maybe twenty-two, and strides towards us in a pale blue shirt and black jeans. He brings the smell of coffee, and it mixes in with the earthy scent of the camp.

‘So it’s true then. Two ladies! Apparently, you lovelies caused quite a stir at the tryouts.’ He stops a metre in front of us. ‘I usually don’t greet the newbies, but I had to meet you for myself. Half of Juliet is already following you on Debtbook! I don’t blame them, a pair of absolute beauties, both of you.’

He meets my gaze confidently, and it’s hard to believe that this is the man who struck fear into Mr Winters—possibly the creepiest guy on the planet.

‘You have to be the infamous Sola. Very clever tactics saving that young boy’s life.’ He winks at me before grabbing my hand in a firm shake. ‘And I won’t ask where you got that sword from, but you owe me one, okay?’ He elongates the
okay
, like he’s giving a drum roll. I just stare.

‘Which makes you Alixis? I’ve heard all about that pin in the eye. Great stuff. Great stuff. Well, I’m sure you have lots of questions but save them for your trainer. I merely wanted to welcome you to the camp.’ He nods the whole time while he speaks; his brown hair so gelled it doesn’t even waver. I get the impression he wants us to respond.

‘Thanks. Um, who are you?’ This comes out slightly more offensive than I mean it to, and his smile falters.

‘Shepherd Fines, of course.’

Alixis jolts her head up.

He’s a Shepherd. A real, honest-to-life Shepherd. The government is only made up of seven and the only way to become one is to be born into it. We’re taught about them in class but we never see their faces. They are spoken about so reverently I had begun to think of them as some superior force, hovering above each city, listening to the trigger cameras and organising the Debt.

I certainly didn’t expect this lively, almost good-looking guy.

‘Oh. Wow.’ The words come out before I even know what I’m saying. It seems to make up for not knowing who he was because his grin swings back.

‘Indeed. I’m in charge of the Demonstrations so spend most of my time here in Zulu. Well, if you need me, my office is up there.’ He points to the watchtower. My stomach clenches in protest of last night’s memory. Shepherd Fines continues, ‘I hope you settle in well. Your trainer should be waiting for you in the first field. Train hard and your tour will be over before you know it. Great to meet you ladies.’ He clicks his teeth at us twice, as if he were calling over a horse, then turns back the way he came.

I make a face at Alixis and can tell she’s thinking exactly the same as me:
what the hell was that about?

The other Demonstrators eye us curiously as we make our way to the field. A figure I recognise is running laps. Dylan.

Right then it’s like I’ve passed through some invisible wall and into a land which makes my palms sweaty, causes my heart to hammer painfully and evaporates any kind of moisture from my mouth. The memory of our kiss illuminates in my mind as if I’ve walked into a room, switched the light on, and there we are, lying on the trampoline, our lips touching.

It was so much easier to see him with the tryouts distracting me. Why didn’t I make my hair look nice this morning? My eye doesn’t hurt anymore, but I haven’t actually looked in a mirror since we arrived here, and for all I know a nasty black circle could be making me look like an old pirate.

Why do I even care? It’s not like I really know him . . . but I do know how his lips taste and how his laugh is low and soft and how everything about him reminds me of calm, cool music.

‘Hey!’ Alixis calls, waving her arm in the air to get his attention. He looks up, nods, and jogs over.

‘Morning, you two.’ He speaks to Alixis, ignoring me. His matching uniform is marked with sweat.

‘Are you our trainer then?’ Alixis asks, looking round. Dylan nods a confirmation. He keeps his eyes down, scratching his back as if he’s trying to hide behind his elbow.

He’s embarrassed to see me. I urge the heat which is flushing my face not to show.

‘You training those brothers, too?’ Alixis asks, and I swear there’s an edge of hope in her tone.

‘No. I haven’t seen them since the Medic’s Cabin. Right, let’s start.’ Dylan points to the grooves in the ground which mark lanes.

‘The first, and most important, part of training is getting your fitness levels up, which means running laps. Keep up.’ With that, he sets off again. Alixis looks to me once before sprinting after him in the next lane.

Complete with an unhealthy amount of self-consciousness, I run to catch them up and slide into the lane next to Alixis.

‘We’—Alixis huffs in between breaths—’were promised answers.’

‘Ask away.’ How is Dylan’s voice still so perfect when he’s been jogging all this time?

‘What’s this tour everyone keeps talking about?’ Alixis asks.

‘The tour is how you pay back your Debt. You fight one Demonstration in each city around the country and end with a final fight in your home Stadium. Tickets to this fight are always expensive—so the Shepherds give the audience a twist. The worse the twist the less likely you’ll survive.’ He glances over to check we understand.

‘However, the more followers you get on Debtbook as the tour progresses, the more likely you’ll be given a fair last fight because the public won’t want to see you killed. Legs up, come on! If you survive your home fight, then you go back to your families,’ Dylan says as though it’s oh-so-simple.