Halo (Blood and Fire Series (A Young Adult Dystopian Series)) (6 page)

The Therin have their work cut out for them on the edges of the city. The streets are filthy and littered with garbage, and their cleaning duties must feel endless. There’s no money to afford sturdy materials for any of the houses, and so they’re made out of sheets of corrugated plastic and useless off-cuts of wood. Most of the houses rot from the ground up, where mould and damp festers even in the dry months. This is probably where I should turn around and go home, not because anyone will hurt me, but because I am suddenly overcome with a sickened feeling, as I watch the starving children with their rounded little pot bellies and gaunt expressions play at warriors.
 
Yet I don’t turn around.

It takes me twenty minutes to make my way through the streets; I don’t know my way here, but I head north until the shanties fall away and the land opens out. I’ve never been this far out of the city, and I’m surprised when I find fields of grass, which are fenced off for as far as the eye can see. In the distance is the forest
―
everybody knows it’s there, but it’s one thing hearing about it and another thing entirely seeing it.

I’ve never seen so many trees. They’re different to the ones that grow in the city. These ones don’t really have proper leaves, and they are an altogether different kind of green. It’s lush and vibrant, and totally new to me. What really surprises me is how close these trees grow together. They’re almost on top of one another, lined up in formation, a tree line that runs for miles in either direction.

Directly ahead, before the trees, there are slim, grey chimneys, where billows of dirty white smoke curl up into the afternoon sky. Squat, vast buildings
―
grey, windowless
―
surround them, and I know this is the processing compound, where the food for the city’s inhabitants is stored, milled, prepared and recycled.

I have no idea why, but I keep walking. No doubt I’ve been missed back at home by now, but this doesn’t seem to matter. A wide, rutted dirt road leads out towards the processing plant, and on either side of it the chain link fences rise up well beyond three times my height. Loops of vicious barbed wire top them for good measure. These fences are well maintained, and there is no way over or under them.

It’s eerily silent out here. There isn’t a sound apart from a soft hum emanating from the processing plant, and that’s so low it’s barely audible. All I can hear is my breathing that pulls and blows in and out over my teeth. The world has never been so quiet. As I get closer to the compound I see groups of Therin sitting out in the sunshine, eating from wrinkled paper bags. The men and women are methodical and quick about finishing their lunch. This has a lot to do with the guards standing over them; they’re in full body armour, which is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve never heard of a Therin disobeying anybody before, let alone a Therin who knows how to fight.

Still, the sight of the guards with their black body suits, wrapped in stab vests, with their thick plexi-shields sends a nervous thrill through my body, and I duck down at the side of the road. I’m not sure what would happen if they found me. I could say I was sent here by Lowrence but they’d want to know why, and I don’t think I’m capable of lying convincingly.

I hunker down in the tall grass at the roadside and watch for a few minutes as the guards hurry everyone back inside the building to continue their work. When I’m sure they’re all gone, I edge forward to get a closer look at what lies past the plant. Concealed within the trees, another huge fence has been erected; it’s made from steel struts, spaced evenly, about five metres apart, thicker than some of the tree trunks. The fence itself isn’t made out of chain link like the one back by the fields; it’s a rigid, cross-hatched steel, and looks incredibly strong. There is an armoured gate about four metres wide just behind the plant, which is how I’m guessing people get to the agricultural fields. They’re out there somewhere; I’ve just never bothered to ask where, or even wondered for that matter. Like I said
―
curiosity isn’t outlawed. It’s just not encouraged.

I shrink from the sight of the fence and scurry back up the dirt track in a crouch until I feel I’ve put a safe enough distance between myself and the compound. When I see the shanties growing from tiny brown smudges to actual dwellings on the horizon, I relax a little. The Colosseum looks foreboding to me now, even from here. It soars up out of the city like an ugly broken tooth, making me feel uneasy. My whole life it has been the place where I went to carry out my work, but now it’s the place where I’ve killed people.
 
Lots of people. The place Cai died.

I hurry back through the city, mindful to keep my head down and avoid eye contact with the multitude of people going about their business. Instead of taking the walkway by the river to get home, I opt for the backstreet. Seeing the spot where Caius and I used to sit and discuss our training, thrust our feet in the water, won’t make me feel well at all. My birth mother is waiting for me when I slip through the back door into the kitchen, and she gives me a stiff nod.

“Where have you been?”

“With Penny,” I answer.

“All this time?”

“Yes.” My first calculated lie. “She wanted me to teach her about the matches.” This isn’t too far a stretch of the imagination. Lots of Elin are intrigued by the fighting, and most of them even seem to have a bit of a bloodthirsty streak. My birth mother has been with me when I’ve been stopped in the street before, when Elin want to rehash a certain move I may have pulled in my last fight. She doesn’t question my response, just goes back to chopping carrots for dinner.

“Good. I hope she learned everything she needed to know,” she says.

I nod, but really I doubt Penny learned anything from our meeting. If anything,
I’m
the one who’s learned much today. I’ve learned some of Cai’s biggest secrets. I’ve also learned there’s no way I’m getting out of this city.

BELCORAS

“Aren’t you really hot right now?” my brother asks. We’re waiting outside the Colosseum where we’re supposed to be meeting one of the Falin Belcoras to organise a training schedule. I have no idea which one of the Belcoras it will be. There are seven or eight of them, I think, and they all look the same. I glance at my brother and shake my head even though sweat is pouring down my back.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re wearing your jacket and it’s zipped up tight.” He reaches for the zipper that is, indeed, drawn all the way up underneath my chin, and I slap his hand away.

“I think I’m still a little sick. You probably shouldn’t touch me.” This has the desired effect, and my brother puts some space between us. There’s no way I can walk around the Sanctuary without my jacket right now, not without someone noticing my halo is almost entirely free from my neck. I woke up before sunrise this morning with it making an odd ticking noise. It took a full hour for it to stop, and I laid there with my heart thrumming in my chest while I panicked that it was going to start working again.

That’s what I’ve decided
―
that I’m not ready for it to start working again
. Yet
. I keep telling myself I’ll only leave it a few more days before I go and see the technicians. Until then, I have to cover my neck.

I have Cai’s holostick with me. It’s not safe to leave at home, but I feel inconceivably guilty walking around with it on my person. It practically burns a hole in my back pocket, and yet I have absolutely no idea why. It could contain anything inside. It could contain nothing at all. At this rate I’m never going to find out, because I’m too scared to try accessing it. I never knew I was such a coward until now.

All of the red banners and flags have been taken down from the Colosseum, and the four levels of carved sandstone are naked today, as we wait for the Belcoras boy by the main entrance. I’m wearing my knife belt, which feels blissfully normal even though it took a lot for me to strap it on before we left the house. The weight of it, knowing exactly where each and every blade is, the movement and shift of my weapons when I walk, is reassuring. It’s only when I consider taking a blade out and using it that I’m filled with alarm.

“What’s up with you today?” my brother asks. Belcoras is late, and my brother has never had much patience. He has a pair of throwing knives in one hand. He scissors them back and forth, making them sing. I give him a look that makes him put them away.

“There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m just waiting.”

“You’re not waiting. You’re pacing. You’re all twitchy.”

“I’m
not,
” I insist. My brother shrugs his shoulders and accepts my denial, while I continue to pace and twitch. It feels risky being out here in the open, where anything could happen and any number of events could occur, leading to the discovery that I’ve been walking around like a ticking time bomb for the last four days. The fact that I haven’t told anyone about my halo is a major deal. If I get found out, I don’t know what the technicians will do.

In the time we stand there waiting, the subtle pink hue to the morning sky diminishes and clouds begin to amass in the heavens. It won’t be long before rain kicks in and the day is a washout; there’s electricity on the air and a storm is brewing. Storms mean one thing in the Sanctuary: everybody indoors. Lightning strikes within the city limits are common, and the rain is usually so strong that flash flooding can occur without any warning. Living near the river is a blessing sometimes and a burden at others. When it bursts its banks, we’re actually permitted to sleep on the first floor of the house. Miranda says the frequency with which we get flooded is the reason why we don’t get carpet on the floor in our living quarters, but I know better.

“Belcoras is here,” my brother says, pointing off through the crowds of early morning touts setting up their stalls of fruit and vegetables. I look in the direction he is pointing and pick out a sandy blond head amongst the jostling throng of people. It’s a Belcoras, all right. They all have that same dirty, straw-coloured hair. I know because I’ve killed three of his brothers. As he draws closer, we go out to meet him, and a light rain starts to fall. He’s wearing combat gear just like us, but his clothes are worn at the knees and scuffed. No doubt he has to share his clothes with all his siblings.

The boy is probably the same age as me. He’s broad and strong and it’s obvious he’s a trained fighter, even without the faint scars that run down the lengths of his cheekbones. He holds out his hand to greet us and I shake first, noticing the way he holds himself. I do this subconsciously. Studying a fighter is second nature to us, wondering how they handle themselves, how they handle their knives, what their strengths and weaknesses are. I’ve already ascertained that he favours his right side and that he’s probably quick, but not as quick as me, by the time I let his hand go.

He gives me a curt smile, knowing he has been sized up, and I notice that his eyes are mismatched. One is ice blue and one is so dark it’s almost black. I’ve never seen anything like this before, and for a second I’m stunned. A frown flickers over his face, and I realise I’m staring. I look away.

“Good morning,” he says. “My Trues have requested we discuss a training schedule. I take it that’s why you came?”

“It is,” I tell him, organising my face into a mask of nonchalance. “My last partner and I trained every morning from six until nine. Do you think this arrangement might be agreeable?”

Belcoras shakes his head, no. “I work in the mornings four days a week. I can train the other three. Perhaps we can meet later in the evening on the other days?”

I forget that, unlike my brother and I, other Falin from poorer Houses have to work, and for some reason I find his inability to slide neatly into Cai’s training schedule very annoying. I’m hostile when I snap, “Fine.”

He doesn’t seem to notice my temper and nods enthusiastically. “I’m very happy to be able to train with you and your brother. I wasn’t able to attend the last amphi-match, but I understand Falin Asha fought poorly. I promise you, I will work hard to ensure I am a worthy partner to you both.”

An unpleasant bubbling feeling rises up in my chest, and I struggle to keep my face from reacting to his statement. That’s all it is
―
a statement. But I can’t shake the suspicion that he’s making a personal remark about Cai. “Falin Asha was
not
an unworthy opponent or training partner.”

Belcoras looks surprised at my words, and maybe surprised at the level of anger that even I can hear in them, too. He tilts his head back and a bead of rain strikes his forehead. “Of course. It’s just
―
well, there are a lot of Falin saying that he was sloppy and could have fought better. That he wasn’t paying attention.”

A low growl works its way up my throat, and both my brother and Belcoras shift uneasily. “Hey, is everything all right?” my brother whispers. I take a step toward Belcoras and automatically draw out the dagger on my right hip. It’s my favourite knife. It has top serrations that make it look positively evil. I hold it up in the air and twist it around so he can see.