The Hourglass
The Hourglass
By Casey Donaldson
Text Copyright © Casey Donaldson 2014
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Prologue
The Survival Wars
A Brief History
It is generally accepted amongst historians that the world’s population became unsustainable one hundred and twenty five years ago. Supplies of food and fresh water became ever-dwindling as farming land and natural resources disappeared, only to be replaced by residential developments. Overcrowding was a major issue. Governments could no longer provide for their own people. There were uprisings. Countries fell. Then the horror came.
Overpopulation resulted in an outbreak of a whole new range of unprecedented, horrifying, zoonoses viruses that infected people and animals alike, wreaking havoc and chaos across the world. In order to overcome this new horror, the World Government was created, commonly known as the Collective. However, as more and more humans were affected by the various viruses, the Collective effectively split into two: the Covenant and the Accord. The Covenant and the Accord differed in their opinion on how to treat the infected. The Accord demanded the construction of camps, where they could house the infected and study the disease. This prolonged the diseased individual’s survival, but also their suffering. The Covenant believed that this would only serve to encourage further mixing of the viruses, and would be a ruining drain on their resources and would bring about the ultimate demise of the populace. They called for an all-out extermination of anyone infected. The Covenant argued that it was kinder, as it decreased the suffering of the people and saved further people from becoming infected.
The Covenant and the Accord soon became more than political ideologies, and waged war. Either through isolation in the camps, or because they were killed, the majority of the infected were wiped out. This, combined with the devastation wreaked during the wars, decreased the population to a sustainable level. Yet the war between the Covenant and the Accord waged on, each faction vying for ultimate control; to become the new Collective. Farming land, which should have been reclaimed and worked as the population decreased, turned into battle grounds. Overpopulation may have no longer been an issue, but food and water supplies still were. Overcrowding in the cities still persisted, as people were too afraid to leave the cities claimed by either one of the factions. To venture out meant to risk finding oneself on a battle ground.
The deadly viral outbreaks may have been a thing of the past, but the new order of the day was very much the same; survival.
Chapter One
A Pie
Sarah Underhill crouched across the road from the pie shop. Her back was resting against the rough brick wall of what used to be a butcher’s, but was now just another apartment. The smell of freshly baked pies wafted towards her. Her stomach rumbled. She glanced down at herself ruefully. There wasn’t much there. That was something, she thought, that could be remedied by one or two of those pies. She looked back up at the pie shop. Like most of the shops in that area, the actual display and counter area were outside on the street. The inside of the actual shop was comprised entirely of the kitchen.
A middle-aged man and woman slowed down as they neared the shop. Sarah watched enviously as they made their choices and selected two of the pies. The pies, she knew, would still be hot to the touch. She had watched them bring them out of the kitchen twenty minutes ago. Her stomach rumbled again. She didn’t care that the meat they contained came from questionable sources, or that some of the pies were filled out with chopped up bits of protein bars. They still smelt incredible. They would still taste good. And, more importantly, they would make her feel full. The couple paid the woman over the counter, who checked their money carefully for evidence of forgery before nodding at them pleasantly and slipping it into a pouch at her waist. Sarah closed her eyes just before the man was about to take a bite. She just couldn’t bear to watch. Her stomach rumbled noisily. When she opened her eyes the pair was gone. She imagined herself marching up to the store and carefully browsing all of the products, as if she had all the money in the world. She would then select the freshest, largest, most fulsome pie that she could find. One with real meat. Then she would pay the woman, receive the nod of a transaction well done, and go home. Once home, she would sit it proudly in the middle of the kitchen table, and just watch as her mother and uncle stared at it in surprise and wonder.
Of course, that would never happen. She sighed. Sometimes she wondered what the world was like before the Survival Wars. The idea of having plenty of food and living space was intoxicating. She had even heard that you used to be able to have water that didn’t taste like chlorine, but she wasn’t sure if she believed that one. After all, if it didn’t taste like chemicals, what would it taste like? A movement across the street drew her attention and she snapped out of her daydream. There was a boy leaning on the wall across from her. He had been there for about five minutes. Every now and then he would glance over at her. He looked to be about her age but he was smaller and skinnier. He had black spiky hair and was wearing old black jeans that were a bit too small and a bit too ragged. He winked at her. Sarah blinked in surprise and then looked away quickly. After a moment she glanced back. He was still staring at her, a small grin turning up the corners of his mouth. Sarah frowned, unsure of what he was playing at. A uniformed soldier strode past, holding a rifle in one hand and Sarah stiffened automatically. People gave him a wide birth. Her city was claimed by the Covenant. Regular soldier patrols were meant to make the citizens feel safe, but they served the dual purpose of reminding everyone just who was in control. A sudden shout and the sounds of a fight breaking out from somewhere at the end of the street drew the soldier’s attention. He straightened his shoulders and ran towards the noise, weapon drawn. Sarah stood up out of her crouch and peered towards the commotion. Two boys in their early twenties had started a fist-fight. They were drawing quite a crowd. The pie store owner had drifted to the edge of her store, obviously wanting to get a better view of the fight but not willing to leave her goods unattended. Sarah didn’t want to watch the fight. She had seen too many of them already and just found it depressing. She glanced back longingly at the pies and to her surprise she saw the skinny boy in the black jeans walking casually towards her, a pie in each hand. She glanced back at the shop owner. The woman hadn’t moved, still angling for a better view on the fight. The soldier had just started to spray a noxious gas into the fighters’ face’s, making them cough and their eyes stream. The boy reached her and with the same half grin shoved the pie in her hands before she could protest. He had stolen it. She knew he had stolen it, yet she still found her hands wrapping around it automatically. Multiple thoughts flew through her mind simultaneously. Giving it back to the store owner wasn’t an option. If she did, she would be arrested
for sure. Shop owners in her city regarded pretty much anyone in the vicinity of a shoplifting crime to be guilty by association. Having the stolen pie in her hands would in their eyes be just as bad as if she had stolen it herself. Dropping it was even less of an option. You did not waste good food. Her mother had drilled that into her enough times for it to be imprinted heavily in her brain. Besides, she was too hungry. That was it then, she decided, she had to eat the pie. She had a second to anticipate how good the pie would taste before a short, high-pitched yell cut through her concentration. The grin fell from the boy’s face as if struck by lightning and he bolted. Sarah looked around desperately, trying to find the source of the yell. It didn’t take her long. The pie-maker was pointing an accusing finger at her.
“Thief!”
Sarah’s stomach plummeted and she rocked on her feet in disbelief and shock as the accusation seemed to reverberated in her head. She ran. She didn’t bother to turn around to check if they were after her. Adrenaline coursed through her body and her heart pounded so loudly in her ears that she could hardly make out the street noises around her. She was two blocks away and in no threat of slowing down when an arm reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder. Her feet flew out from beneath her as she was yanked to a stop, and she had to scramble to remain upright. The hand on her shoulder was heavy. She looked up at the owner. It was a Covenant soldier. A different one to the soldier who had broken up the fight. This one was heavier. A chipped front tooth was on display on his rough face as he grinned at her, before speaking into his radio-mike.
“Skinny, about fifteen, short brown hair and wearing boots?” He paused as he listened to the response. Sarah couldn’t hear it as the speaker was plugged into his ear, but she knew it wasn’t going to be good for her by the way his grin grew even wider. “Yeah, I got her.” Her heart sunk down past her boots. She struggled in his grasp but it was pointless. He had a grip as strong as iron. He placed his spare hand on her other shoulder and swivelled her around to face him completely. Keeping one hand firmly wrapped around her upper arm, he frisked her quickly and efficiently. From a deep inner pocket in her vest he pulled out the greasy and now misshapen pie. Sarah stared at it. She had automatically stuffed it into her vest when she took flight. It was a stupid thing to do. The crust was broken and gravy had leaked out, spilling over the guard’s hand. She hardly recognised it and for an insane moment she thought that he had planted it on her. It looked so pathetic, so insignificant, and she was going to get into so much trouble because of it.
“I didn’t steal it,” she said.
The soldier ignored her and gave the pie a disgusted look before he tossed it over his shoulder, wiping the gravy off his hands onto his pants. The pie splattered on the pavement. A few seconds later a rat ran out from the shadows and started nibbling at the chunks of protein bar it had contained. At least the rat was happy, she thought miserably. The soldier pulled out a small handheld device from another pocket. He slid the hand that was griping her forearm down to her hand, where he straightened out a finger. He applied the device to her finger and pricked her skin, drawing in a drop of blood into the machine. He entered some data with his thumb.
“Don’t move your arm,” he ordered.
Sarah knew what he was going to do. She had watched soldiers do it often enough to people in the streets. He was going to tag her, and once he tagged her she would be in the system. They would charge her and sentence her, and there would be no reprieve.
“Don’t,” she said quickly. “I didn’t steal it.”
“Then how did it end up in your pocket?” He looked her up and down. “I doubt you paid for it.”
“Some other kid stole it and passed it to me.” She answered his next question before he even asked it. “I don’t know why.”
The soldier raised an eyebrow. “What’s his name then?”
“I’ve never met him before. But he was tall and broad with blond hair.” She wasn’t willing to get prosecuted for something she didn’t do, but the boy wasn’t trying to hurt her. She didn’t have to identify him.
“So some random stranger risked everything to steal for you, someone he doesn’t know, a pie?” The scepticism in his voice was brutal.
Sarah shrugged her shoulders. She knew it sounded ridiculous.
The soldier lifted his radio to his mouth. “Any reports on other suspects from the pie heist?” he asked, eyes on Sarah’s. He sounded bored.
“The shopkeeper says there was a boy there as well, but only the girl had a pie.”
The soldier considered her.
“See!” said Sarah, glad her story was backed up, although she was confused as to why the shopkeeper didn’t notice the pie in the boy’s hand.
“Have we found the boy?”
“No, sir.”
He looked at Sarah. “That doesn’t tell me anything except that there was a boy near you.”
“Look,” said Sarah desperately, “I’ll apologise to the shop keeper. I’ll work for her to make up the cost.” The soldier paused and raised an eyebrow at her. She kept on talking, hoping he would listen. “I don’t have a record. I’ve never been involved in anything like this before.” His gaze softened. “It was just a pie.” As soon as she said it she knew it was the wrong thing to say. His gaze hardened again, any chance of reprieve gone.
“Stealing is a serious offence. You are taking what others have worked and paid for. Don’t expect pity for that.”
“But-”
He cut her off with a raised hand. “If you’re not guilty, which I doubt, then you’ll be found innocent.”
He yanked at her forearm, pushing her sleeve up. He stamped the exposed flesh on the inside of her forearm with the same device that he had used to analyse her DNA. The result was a semi-permanent black ink-mark. It didn’t hurt physically, but emotionally it was as if she had been stabbed in the gut.
“Attend your hearing.” He strode away. Sarah rocked on her feet, shocked. She hadn’t even been aware of him removing his hand from her arm. Her mind whirled. Attend your hearing. The words repeated themselves in her head, growing more and more damning by the second. He hadn’t needed to complete the rest of the sentence. Everybody knew what it meant. Attend the hearing or we will come for you, and if we don’t find you, we will find your family. The details were also unnecessary for him to say. Her case number and date of hearing were stamped on her arm. It would stay there for a month. She wouldn’t be able to get if off by any means short of scraping it off with a knife.
Sarah felt her knees wobble beneath her. She glanced around quickly. A few people gave her a passing glance, some even with pity, but most were just blank. She drew in a deep, shuddering breath and felt her vision waver as her eyes started to fill with tears. This wasn’t good. She had to get away before she started blubbering in the street like some little kid. But where to go? She could hardly face going home now. What would her mum and uncle say? She could picture the look of incomprehension and fear in their faces. No, she couldn’t go home just yet. To the tower then.
Chapter Two
The Tower
The tower used to be a grain silo. It wasn’t in use anymore. The city simply didn’t have enough grain. The tower was fenced off on all sides by an eight-foot tall wire fence, but the giant rusted hole on one side of the fence ensured that it would have failed to keep out a dog. No one tried to go inside. Water had been trapped inside the silo at some point in the past and now the inside of the silo was full of mould. As a result the tower was one of the few places in the city which wasn’t suffocating in people. As far as Sarah could tell, no one went up to the roof either. The only reason she could think of for this was the effort it took to get up there in the first place. The staircase was steep and rusted through in some places and required a mini-tower of old crates to be built up just to access the bottom rung. She was always panting by the time she got to the top. Granted, the view wasn’t the best either. It might have been once but the buildings around it had never stopped ex
panding. Now it sat surrounded by apartment blocks. She didn’t mind though. If she stood in one particular corner and crouched down a little, she could sometimes even see the sunset.
Sarah was relieved and disappointed at the same time that Abby wasn’t there. Abby was a nine year old girl who lived in one the surrounding apartment blocks and had made a habit of following Sarah to the top of the silo. She was probably the closest thing Sarah had to a friend, although she wasn’t about to admit it. Sarah sat down cross-legged in the middle of the roof, closed her eyes, and drew in a deep breath. She opened her eyes.
Holy crap, she thought, I’m screwed.
The noise of someone scrambling onto the roof interrupted the relative silence and she turned around. It was Abby. She must have spotted her climbing up and followed. Abby’s dirty blonde head grinned at her.
“Hey loser,” she said, “what’s up?”
Sarah burst into tears. She almost felt as if she could have dealt with anything except for Abby’s usual chirpiness. Somehow the very ordinariness of it highlighted just how bad her situation was. What was wrong with me? she thought angrily, wiping the tears off her face viciously. She looked back up at Abby and burst out laughing at the look of uncomprehending terror on the girl’s face. Sarah was pretty certain that Abby had never consoled anyone older than her in her life and it was obvious that she had no idea what to do. She sniffed and wiped away the final traces of her tears.
“What. The. Hell?” demanded Abby, looking relieved now that Sarah had stopped crying. “Are you crazy? No seriously, have you cracked? Because I can’t handle that.” She threw her hands up as if to ward off Sarah’s craziness, which only set Sarah off again, laughing until her sides hurt. Then she remembered what had happened and the laughter died on her lips. She was feeling oddly hysterical now and she took a few deep breaths to calm herself down.