INK: Red (INK Trilogy Book 1) (6 page)

"Thank you, thank you so much. That was divine."

"That's alright, sorry it was only one. Daddy said that I should only ever eat one at a time, just in case Martha gets into trouble."

"Martha?" asked Edsel. "Ugh, argh."

"Are you alright? Do you want me to do something?" The boy began to stand, although obviously unsure exactly why or what he was actually going to do.

"No, its okay, I just hurt is all. Everywhere." Edsel shifted in the chair at the table, pain reaching new heights even though he tried, unsuccessfully, not to show it. He didn't want to scare the child. A young boy, he couldn't be more than twelve if that. "Now, who's Martha?"

"The chicken of course. My dad said that she might not lay every day so I should only ever eat one egg at a time, and no more than four a week; just in case. That way I would at least have something to eat for a few days if she didn't lay or she died or something." The boy shrugged his shoulders, like it had been going on so long it was just the way things were. Normal.

"And Daddy? I thought you said you lived alone here."

There was a silence, the boy's head bowed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to say anything wrong." It was obvious that the boy's father wasn't around, what was wrong with him? He needed to think straight, this was a definite complication to things.

"It's okay, I just try not to think about it any more. It's just me and Martha now, and she isn't much company."

"Is she out in the garden? I didn't see a coop?"

"Oh no, Daddy always said she was too valuable for that. As soon as he found her we kept her inside. She's upstairs."

"Oh, right." It didn't really come as a surprise. He'd heard of people keeping all sorts of animals, including pigs, in their homes. It was different in the cities to out in the country — everything was up for grabs as food was so scarce. He always wondered why he didn't leave and go to the countryside as soon as things turned sour, god knew the stench of the city should have been enough. Get away from so many reminders of what life once was, but the pull of home was always so strong. It was all he knew, all he had ever known. It would have to change though, he knew that. If he survived.

Kathy would have loved the countryside. She'd never seen it, but even in the city they'd taken walks now and then in the night when the moon gave enough light to see and they felt the risk was worth the reward. She'd loved the open spaces so much.

"Mister? Mister, are you okay?"

"Eh? Oh, sorry, just thinking."

"You looked sad. Did somebody die?"

"Yeah, you could say that. But anyway, thanks for the egg, for looking after me last night. I'm sorry to just barge in, it must have been very scary." Edsel couldn't imagine the sight he must be for a young boy all alone with just a chicken for company. A chicken!

The young boy shifted about uncomfortably, clearing away Edsel's plate and his own — both so clean they didn't even look like they needed washing. "It was scary. I haven't seen anyone in so long, not since my dad. But you just sat down and fell asleep in the chair. And, um..."

"What? It's okay, you can tell me. And I'm Edsel by the way, what's your name?"

"I'm Aiden."

"Haha, that's kind of apt at the moment, it means fiery." Aiden looked at him in confusion. "Never mind, ah, shit. Oops, sorry, excuse the language."

"Is it your hands? What's wrong with them? Did you burn them? Were you in a fire?"

Edsel looked at his hands, the only bit of his body that Aiden could see that was tattooed. "It was The Eventuals. You know about them? Know about what they call The Ink?"

"Those are the bad red men, right?" Aiden brightened at having such knowledge.

"Yeah, that's them. Well, they captured me and I managed to escape, but they are after me—"

What is wrong with you? Eating an egg, sat here like you don't have a care in the world? Idiot!

"Damn, how long have I been here? How long did I sleep?" He couldn't believe he'd not left the minute he'd woken up. Everything had been such a shock, seeing the young boy there, the eggs cooking, the boy obviously scared but trusting in a man that had walked into his house and fallen asleep.

Aiden looked at his watch. "It's six thirty in the morning, why?"

"I have to go, I can't stay here. They'll be after me. I'm amazed they haven't found me already. It's not safe with me here."

"Can I come?" asked Aiden, face lighting up, like Edsel had the answers to his current lonely life.

"Look Aiden, men are after me, horrible men, bad men. If they catch me, or you, then it's curtains, you understand? I'm sorry, it's too dangerous."

"Oh. It's so lonely though, I'm all alone. And I'm hungry and scared and it's just me and Martha."

"I'm sorry, I really am. Look, if I get through this then I'll come back for you, I promise. But right now it's just too risky. I have to go. Now."

He hated himself for doing it but what alternative was there? He couldn't just stay with the boy, they would find him and kill them both. But if he managed to succeed, he really would come back for him. He promised himself that as he moved into the living room and shouldered his backpack. He would, he really would — there was no way he'd leave Aiden all alone as long as he himself survived.

Poor kid.

He walked back into the kitchen, Aiden still standing there, the most pitiful sight he had ever seen. It nearly broke his heart. He had to leave.

"I'm sorry, I took one."

"One? One what?"

"A drink. One of your cans. I took a Pepsi," said Aiden guiltily.

"Haha, don't worry about it, you deserve it. You deserve a lot more for helping me out. I'm sorry, but bye."

He was out the back door before he had to look at the poor boy again, but there was no choice. Through the gate and down the road, furtively looking around, checking for his pursuers.

Where are they?

They could be anywhere, they could be coming around the corner right now. He should run, it's what he did wasn't it? Run. That was his life now, but there was more, not everything had turned sour. There were smart young kids that would trust you, share their food, and look at you with such sad eyes...

Just run.

WAIT

Here they come.

Footsteps were not far behind him. He should have just kept running the night before, gone as far as he possibly could until he collapsed. But how far would he have got? He should have done it anyway, rather than walking into somebody else's home and saving his body from the torture for a while. Still, he'd had food, met Aiden. But one egg, nice as it was, simply wasn't fuel enough for him to be able to keep on going at full speed indefinitely.

He ran faster, ripping open at the seams as the scabs that had formed through the night split and oozed. His body was a chrysalis, tearing open; maybe inside there was something beautiful? A butterfly waiting to dream of being a man for a day before it died?

You're losing it Edsel, get a grip.

Footsteps grew louder.

I'm going to get caught, they're going to get me this time. No way can I just keep on running.

"Wait, wait for me."

Edsel turned. It was Aiden.

Has he got a chicken with him? He has. He's got Martha with him.

He couldn't help himself, he smiled. It was so comical, yet so damn sad at the same time, that he wanted to scoop the boy up in his arms, hug him tight and tell him everything would be alright. But a chicken. C'mon.

"What do you think you're doing? I told you to stay home. You can't be out here, and not with a chicken."

A chicken!

"Where I go, Martha goes," said Aiden defiantly, the poor bird tucked tightly under the boys arm, wrapped in a towel by the looks of it, so it wouldn't flap away.

"You can't go on the run with a chicken."

"Why not?"

"Because... Because it's a chicken, that's why."

That made sense, right?

"Well, I'm coming. Please, I don't want to be alone any more. Dad left almost a year ago, I haven't got anyone. I want to come."

It was exasperating, he couldn't take the boy. He'd have to make him go home. It was too dangerous, he'd be a liability — get them all killed. Well, maybe not the chicken. "You can't come. Go home. I don't want you, you'll get me killed. Yourself too." He had to be harsh, it was for the boy's own good. "Aw, c'mon, don't cry, it's for your own safety. I'll be back."

"You won't," sniffed Aiden. "You'll go and never come back and leave me alone forever, until I get The Lethargy and just die and Martha's eggs will pile up and then she'll die too as there is nobody to look after her."

I can't believe this, I'm on the run from maniacs and I'm arguing over chickens and he simply can't come.

There was a car coming down the street, fast. It was them. No more time, the decision was made.

Edsel grabbed Aiden by the arm and started to run. "Come on, fast. Faster, they'll kill us."

"Martha!" The towel fell from Aiden's arms as they started to run. Martha flapped about noisily until she was free of her fluffy prison and ran around wildly, right into the road.

Squawk.

"Martha!"

"We have to go. Move. Now."

They ran, both turning to see the car closing on them fast. The chicken was still alive. It must have gone right under the car.

Lucky bugger.

"Faster. There, over there." Edsel pointed to a playground, tall grass partially hiding swings and climbing frames probably not used in years.

That's got to be the saddest thing I've seen in my whole damn life.

Sun glinted off the slide, mocking the degradation and the abandoned hope for a future that would never be alive with the laughter of children.

No more kids. Well, there's one at least. He's your responsibility now Edsel, you have to look after him, no choice now dude. None at all.

They ran for the playground, the green metal fencing meaning the car couldn't follow. The fields beyond, once used daily by regular folk walking their dogs, now as deserted as the rest of the country — the rest of the world.

"Faster."

Pain blinded Edsel to everything but running. The scabs had formed a tight seal over most of his body through the night, wrapping him as tight as a mummy, the skin ripping and cracking as the sudden movements opened up wound after wound, his clothes rubbing the dry itching skin, tearing off long peels of thick poisoned flesh like pork crackling as they ran for all their worth toward the silent playground, the swings still, nothing but ghosts left.

All that remained were dead children, forgotten by parents lost to The Lethargy, searching for adults in the only place they could think of to look once they were all alone.

"Don't look," said Edsel, trying to avoid the partially eaten or skeletal remains of a number of children and a few adults too by the look if it.

"It's okay. I live here, I've seen it all before."

God, what a world to be a kid in. When I was his age I hadn't even known anyone that had died, let alone seen the corpses of children eaten by dogs. I don't think I'd even lost a goldfish.

They ran fast through the playground, dodging bodies, knocking aside empty bottles and cans, pausing only to open the child-proof gate at the far end. They were out into fields now, gaining some distance on whoever had been in the car. Edsel risked a glance backward.

Damn, four of them now, they've got reinforcements.

He picked up the pace but Aiden could only go so fast, his young legs not up to the same speed as Edsel.

This is going to be a problem. Poor kid, what have I got him into?

"Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"Eh? What?"

Did he just read my mind.

"A little, sorry about that. Daddy always said it was rude to do it, but when I'm excited it just kind of happens. Sorry."

"You're Awoken then? Naturally? Never mind, come on, let's get out of here."

They kept on running.

The field was knee-high for Edsel and higher for Aiden so they had to slow, but at least they were getting away. Their trousers were getting wet, the rains through the night ensuring everything was damp as usual. His legs began to hurt at a new level as the grass brushed against the material, seed heads pricking him like a replay of the chase of the day before.

What now? Where can we go? This is getting real old. Will there never be any goddamn motherf—

"That way, over there," said Aiden, pointing toward a series of high-rise monstrosities — a failed housing project from the eighties, one of the few not demolished before The Lethargy put a halt to the hope of re-homing people into a better way of life.

"Okay, it's as good as any other direction."

Like things aren't depressing enough already.

Running. Always running. Edsel felt like he's spent his life running, splitting apart just like the Converse had.

Empty inside.

~~~

It was a maze of concrete walkways connecting giant crumbling concrete coffins to each other. There were bridges, sloped curving walkways that connected to a small shopping precinct that held a convenience store, a post office, the ubiquitous liquor store and betting shops. All smashed now, the booze gone before the food from the Spar next door.

Aiden seemed to know his way around pretty well, leading them up a walkway that rose up to the entrance to one of the fifteen story high-rises. Inside the broken doors were piles of refuse — as far as most people had bothered to take their trash once it was no longer collected. It stank. There were obviously dead animals of all description and all states of decomposition within the mountain of discarded remains of humanity trying its best to hang on to life. Inevitably unsuccessfully in most cases.

"I used to come here, looking for people, before it got too dangerous. Before somebody tried to take me. A man, a horrible man that tried to—"