Shadow Reaper (Shadowlands Series) (10 page)

Her gaze tracked over my shoulder and she yelled. “Duck!”

I rolled, came to my feet, and continued running.

“Come on! You’re almost there!”

I wasn’t sure what she meant, but she wasn’t running away, so maybe the golden aura was a safe place.

The woman was jumping up and down now, getting more excited by the minute, and the hope in my chest was like a balloon, stealing my breath and making me lightheaded. It was accompanied by a sense of foreboding. Wasn’t this the moment that my almost escape would be thwarted? But it wasn’t, and I crossed into the aura, not stopping until I was pressed to the wall and the woman’s face was inches from mine, shouting words I couldn’t hear through the roaring in my head.

I blinked slowly at her, watching her lips move as the roar died to a whisper.

“—okay now. You’re safe. They can’t hurt you here.”

I nodded, unable to speak. My gaze slid over her shoulder and I almost lost bladder control. Glowing green eyes watched me from beyond the golden glow. Haunches huge and wide and sloped, it paced back and forth. Smoke plumed from a wide, jagged mouth.

“What is that thing?” I asked.

The woman glanced over her shoulder and sighed. “Every human’s nightmare. Don’t know what they’re called, but the Traders use them as fetching hounds. They track, they catch, they fetch, and then the Traders sell us to the highest bidders.”

“Sell us . . . what do you mean?” I pushed off the wall and winced as fire skated across my back.

The woman gently cupped my shoulder and turned me slightly so she could look at my back.

“Shit, that might need stitches,” she said. “Look, there’s plenty of time to explain the workings of this place, but first we need to get you inside and cleaned up.” She smiled, her face twinkled, and I noticed the piercings in her nose, cheeks, and eyebrows. I’d never seen anything like it. In fact, I’d never seen anything like her. Her dark brown hair was streaked with blue and pink. She was beautiful. But it was her bright eyes that captivated me, huge hazel eyes rimmed in some kind of dark smudgy stuff. Eyes that swept over my face in concern, bringing a sob to my throat, releasing the tremors I’d been holding back. Bernadette’s eyes . . . she had Bernie’s eyes.

“My friend. They got my friend.”

“Oh, hun. I’m so sorry.” She hugged me and fire streaked across my back. I yelped and she quickly released me. “Shit! Look, come inside, let’s get you sorted.”

My back, how had it got to my back? Fuck! I’d lost a pack of food. It must have clawed it off to get to me.

I allowed her to lead me toward the main entrance—huge double doors that looked battered but sturdy. Before I passed over the threshold, I couldn’t help but gaze up at those glowing letters that formed a word that echoed my life.

Apocalypse.

The tea had worked a treat. In fact, it had worked so well that it had taken Blake ten minutes to finally rouse him.

“Finally,” Blake said.

Clay stretched luxuriously. It had been the best sleep he’d had in ages. There were no dreams, no worries, just blissful slumber. Simon was a bloody genius!

“What a sleepyhead you are,” Blake said.

Clay yawned. “That’s me. What’s the time, babe?”

“Eight a.m.”

“Blimey!” He rolled out of bed, a fire coming to life under his arse. Work started in fifteen minutes! His chilled-out state evaporated.

“Calm down,” Blake said.

Clay bolted into the bathroom, washed up quickly, and threw on his clothes.

“You never lay in like that.”

“No,” Clay said, pulling on his boots.

“What’s that flask?”

“Oh, Sarah gave it to me. One of Simon’s concoctions to aid sleep.”

“You okay, Clay?”

“Yeah, just needed a little help last night.”

“Oh.”

There it was again, that flicker of something in Blake’s eyes. What was that? It made his heart flutter and his nerves twang. Clay realised he was staring and went back to lacing up his boots.

“See you later,” Blake said.

Clay stood up and planted a kiss on Blake’s cheek. “Miss you already.”

“And you had the gall to call me mushy last night?”

“Must be rubbing off. I’ll need to talk to Simon about some kind of purging medicine to get rid of it before I’m infected.” Clay winked.

“Cheeky git.”

“But you love more for it.”

Blake kissed him. “Idiot.”

Clay grinned and gave Blake his cheesiest thumbs up.

Blake chuckled, his eyes lighting up. “Shit, I love you, you know that?”

There was a gravity to Blake’s tone that made Clay’s heart skip a beat. “Blake, is there something wrong?”

Blake’s eyes darkened and then he rolled his eyes. “Only that my boyfriend would think there was something wrong with me saying I love you.” He stepped closer and cupped Clays face. “I love you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Blake leaned in and captured his mouth in a soft kiss, a goodbye-for-now kiss that deepened and turned into a prelude to a shag kiss. Clay wrapped his arms around Blake pulling him closer, his heart hammering in his chest with need and anticipation, but then Blake was breaking the kiss and pulling away, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright.

They stared at each other for a long beat and then burst of laughing.

“Yeah, so not the time,” Blake said. “Let’s get out of here before I change my mind though.”

Together they grabbed their gear and left the room.

***

Clay’s office in the Maintenance Sector was loaded with tools and parts, scattered here and there in what he came to call an organised mess. As long he knew where to find things, which he did, that was all that mattered. The office was square, with a small section attached, which served as his workshop.

On his desk was the day’s requests listed by Jessie, the admin whizz no one ever really saw. She buried herself in her office and her room, barely surfacing, almost creating the illusion of existence. But she always, without fail, managed to get Clay’s schedule drafted.

He picked up the piece of paper. First up was the usual inspection of the generators. After that were some issues with the cooling system in Corridor 5. That wouldn’t take him long to do. It was typical of Corridor 5 to want to reject a cool environment and be a heat zone. Nothing a few tinkers wouldn’t fix. After that, he could hit the greenhouse. He’d see Ash later.

He pocketed the schedule in his tool belt and double checked that he had his little torch. Before setting out, he went into his workshop. On the work table, covered in a dust sheet, was his secret project. No one, not even Ash, knew about it. He lifted the sheet to have a look. It was a UV light but stronger than the others. He’d built it from scratch, slowly tinkering with the system to generate a light more powerful than the standard ones currently in use. It was about finding the right conduit for the energy to flow through. He was getting close. Stopping the burn out was the tricky bit, but he had managed to incorporate a clockwork mechanism that would allow an automatic function to emulate the times of sunrise and sunset. Coupled with the increased heat and light, and with the simulation of a sun cycle rather than the lights simply being switched on and off, Clay was hoping for more natural conditions to grow a better standard of food. After that, he could improve the sprinkler system.

“Soon,” he said to his creation and then immediately felt foolish and hastily threw the sheet back over the contraption.

***

“What’s up, man?” Tom greeted him down by the entrance to the generators. He was doing his daily clean of the floors.

“Hey, Tom. You okay?”

“Not too bad, ta. Back is sore.”

Tom was a portly, bearded man with greying black hair. He was forty and a brilliant singer. Tom loved his job, but his job didn’t love him back. It was always aching or causing him some problem.

“You poor man. You been to seen Nina? Or even Simon?”

“Simon hooked me up with some pills, but they gave me the squirts.”

“Shit.”

“Yep, that’s what I said. Nina, she’s got a rod up her arse.”

Ryder doesn’t seem to think so.
“She’s all right.”

Tom shrugged. “Yeah, well.”

“Go and see her. She’ll be able to help you.”

“Will do, mate. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

Tom went about his work, singing some song Clay didn’t recognise about the poor always being blamed or something. Clay pulled out his keys and unlocked the padlock attached to the bolt on the door to the generators. He was met with a familiar rumble as he pulled the metal door open. He stepped inside and locked the door behind him. He was the only person allowed in the generator room.

He made the long descent down the stone stairs, following the trail of LED lights down into the cool depths. Every inch surrounding him was made of solid concrete, reinforced with steel. It kept the Thames out. He could hear it beyond the cocoon, the churning water. Often he wondered what it looked like, for real, not like in one of Ash’s magazine. He dreamt about it often. In his mind, the day was warm, and the clear blue water sparkled with dancing light. He would be with Blake on a little boat, just enjoying the glorious day. That was just fanciful stuff. He knew the Thames wouldn’t be clear and blue. It was a beast, grey and unclean. It reached out beyond Shelter and held its own darkness. The Thames was a power Clay respected. He liked to think of her as a she, liked to think that she was giving, just like the Mother. Yet he was also afraid of her. What if one day she didn’t feel like giving? What if she decided to find a way past the concrete and steel and flood everything, wipe them out for taking so much from her? What if she dried up?

Clay mentally slapped himself. There was the poxy worrywart crap again.

Get a grip!

Clay took a right at the bottom of the stairs. He clicked on his mini torch and got on with his job, making his way from generator to generator, giving them a thorough going over to check for any flaws or failings. It wasn’t the most thrilling of jobs, but it was at the top of his essential list.

***

“The tomatoes are dead,” Sarah said, hands on hips. She shook her head. “I can’t figure this one out. The conditions never seem to be right.”

“Crap,” Clay said.

Simon pushed his glasses up his nose. “I can try a new fertiliser, play with the ingredients.”

“It can’t hurt,” Sarah said.

Simon was tall and skinny with floppy brown hair. He always blushed around Clay.

Clay went back up the ladder to the circuit board. A thought had struck him. He moved the pink wire to the green, twisting the orange round to meet the yellow. It was worth a try. Orange and yellow wires kind of repelled one another, giving off dead energy.

“Please let this work,” he said quietly.

As the wires met, a tiny spark fizzed. He shook his head, but then it sparked again. The UV light burst to life and he heard Sarah shriek.

“You did it!” she yelled.

The heat was instant, and he positioned it back over the cabbage patch, fixing it at the correct angle.

He came down the ladder and Sarah flung her arms around him. “Thank you, Clay,” she said into his chest. “See, I told you a good night’s sleep would fix everything.”

Simon came over. “Good job.” He patted Clay on the back.

“Thanks, guys.”

“That’s why you’re the head of all tech stuff,” Sarah said.

“Ah, stop.” He broke the hug.

“No, it’s true.”

“I’ll have a look at the UV lamp on the tomatoes.”

Sarah nodded. “Thanks.”

The greenhouse was huge, covering most of the space beneath Shelter. It was divided into many sections with different climate controls for specific crops. The gardeners grew fruit, vegetables, and herbs for medicines and health, as well as wheat and corn. The pesky UV light had been in the cabbage section. According to Sarah, they were an absolute bitch to grow.

Relief flooded him. He felt like he could breathe. It was done, a small step in the right direction to solving their problems. Things would be fine until the council’s plan was put in motion. He knew there had to be change. The greenhouse was failing, even if he hated to admit it. That was why he had to get his project up and running. It could make a major difference. Not could,
would
. The crops needed more natural conditions to flourish. Failure was not an option. Maybe, he didn’t know how, they could get livestock again. Too much hope? He didn’t see anything wrong with that. A new greenhouse system and a new agricultural programme was an amazing prospect.

No milk . . . no eggs . . .no meat . . .

He walked along the metal walkway across to the tomato section. Sarah pulled back the plastic divide and he stepped through. The heat made his cheeks bloom. It was probably the hottest section of the greenhouse, which was best for growing tomatoes. But they just kept failing.

“So many batches lost,” Sarah said.

Clay pulled out a metal stepladder and opened a box containing the control panel for the lights. Everything was as it should be. He pulled out a scanner wand. It beeped blue to indicate everything was okay. There were no glitches in the system. The settings were at their regular level. The green wave didn’t dip or spike. The helpless feeling was overwhelming. What could he do? It was faulty somewhere, and his brain—the brain that liked to look inside, find the problem, and make things better—couldn’t break the walls down.

“Clay?”

“Something is wrong,” he whispered.

“Clay?”

The green wave was lying, well and truly lying. Somewhere in there was the truth of why it kept making the tomatoes brown.

“Clay?”

“Yeah, Sarah?”

“You’ve been up there for twenty minutes.”

“I have?”

“Yep. Come down.”

“Just a few more minutes.”

“The way you’re looking at it is freaking me out a bit. Come down. Please.”

He stepped off the stepladder.

“Sorry for freaking you out.”

Simon joined them.

“No worries,” Sarah said.

“Anything?” Simon asked.

Clay shook his head. “I’m going to fix a sphere scanner to it. They’re these little things I designed to monitor energy levels.”