The Vanished

  The Vanished

  By

  Sarah Dalton

  The Vanished

  Sarah Dalton

  ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

  EBOOK EDITION

  ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

  Copyright © 2013 Sarah Dalton

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this work, in whole or in part, in any form.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, organizations and products depicted herein are either a product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.

  Cover Design by Najla Qamber Designs

  ALSO BY THE AUTHOR

  The Blemished (Blemished #1)

  The Unleashed (Blemished #3)

  The Fractured: Elena (Blemished #2.5) (Fractured 1)

  The Fractured: Maggie (Blemished #2.5) (Fractured 2)

  1

  It was time to open my eyes. It was time to look forward. It was time to stop squinting through the tiny peep holes in the Scavenger van, watching the faces of the Blemished become little specks in a dot of a town. Elena and murder-Troll were part of those specks somewhere. I hoped Elena was okay. I didn’t care about Murder-Troll. The further out of Area 14 the more the tiredness hit me and somewhere along the road I’d closed my eyes and rested my head on my knees. An occasional gun sounded out to let me know that the Enforcers were still following, but according to Ali they wouldn’t risk crossing the border into the Clans.

  I’d been pretending to sleep for hours. I listened to The Scavengers chat – their Scottish voices sounded harsh but warm at the same time. Even with closed eyes I knew where Daniel was; I felt him. I felt his presence like the awareness of my own arm. He hadn’t moved from the right side of the van. Angela acted as a protective border so I kept my distance. His breathing was still raspy and tired. I didn’t want to see the sheen of sweat, his pasty face, his blond hair – always messy and stuck up at all angles – plastered to his forehead, damp and lifeless. The boy who never sat still and vibrated with nervous energy and life now lay still and weak. I didn’t want to see his life draining away.

  But it was time; time to face my future and stop wallowing in the past. It was time to support to my friends, the people who had risked everything for me.

  I opened my eyes.

  Sebastian smiled at me. Despite the battle, and his fight with the Enforcer in the river, he still looked pretty perfect. There were some minor scrapes along his cheekbone, but his dark hair had dried into a mussed up style that most boys would need hair gel and a mirror to achieve. “Good to see you awake. I was starting to think you had concussion.”

  I returned the smile, but when my eyes drifted over to Daniel, it faded. They reached Angela first, whose dark skin had changed to the murky grey of a muddy puddle. Her lips barely formed a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She’d been through a lot, and it was all because of me. I knew how much she loved Daniel, and I couldn’t resent her for that, no matter how jealous she became. She was just a kid, a year younger than me, and unable to understand her own feelings. I got that.

  I caught Ali watching me and our eyes met. He’d saved us all from The Enforcers, him and the Scavengers, and now they were taking us to safety in the Clans. There was the smallest of playful smiles on his lips. He watched me watching Daniel with his steady brown eyes. Ali led the Scavengers despite being one of the youngest in the group. He had thick black hair cut short at the sides, brown skin and a large but noble nose. My eyes moved from Ali back to Daniel, curled up and asleep in feverish dreams. His body twitched, and it was like a dagger to my side. This was why I’d spent hours with my eyes closed. I sucked air inwards, trying to control the feelings threatening to bubble to the surface. My fingers twitched, and Mary’s gun almost slipped from her grasp.

  “Easy, kid,” Ali said, raising his eyebrows at me.

  Mary turned around and tutted. “These aren’t toys fer ye te play with.”

  I blushed and looked away. Daniel stirred in his sleep. Ginge popped her chewing gum. Ali shifted on his haunches and attempted to straighten a leg. He was perched on the edge of the crate which doubled up as the step to the machine gun on the roof. Reg and Stevie sat in the front seats, their bald heads side by side like two boiled eggs. Ali flicked an empty bullet shell at the roof of the van and it ricocheted with a ping into his hands. I jumped out of my skin at the noise.

  “Yer just a bag of nerves, kid,” he said with a laugh. “Stevie, swap places with the kid will ye.”

  “Ach,” Stevie protested, “I’m comfy up ‘ere, eh.”

  Ali waggled his finger and Stevie swore. But despite his grumbling he obeyed his boss and hopped over the seat into the back. “Fer effs sake, Ali. It’s tighter than a gnats bum back ‘ere.”

  The van erupted into laughter, even Ginge joined in; her voice had a surprising sing-song quality to it. Sebastian turned to her in surprise, noticing her for the first time. I felt the blood rise to my cheeks. I’d never heard language like that before.

  Mary looked at me and laughed again. It came right up from her belly. “Ye cannae use that language, we’ve company. The poor Blemished lass is turning pink!”

  My hands rose to my cheeks. Ali turned to me and grinned, revelling in my embarrassment.

  “Carry on,” I said, annoyed by his obvious joy at my discomfort. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s not like I haven’t heard it before.”

  “Then why did ye turn the shade of beetroot?” he replied with a small, smug chuckle.

  “It’s hot in here,” I said. “You lot are stinking the place out.”

  Ali laughed. “Looks like we’ve got one more stubborn than ye, Mary. Get in the front, kid. Chill out fer a bit.”

  I clambered over the seat, aware of my ripped tunic which was not designed for climbing around in. I hoped that Reg didn’t get an eyeful of my underwear. I sighed at myself, I needed to get used to this – it was the freedom I’d always wanted after all. Would I ever get used to it? Was I anything more than a Blemished prude?

  As soon as my backside slid down into the front seat my worries and fears drifted away. It was beautiful. In the orange glow of sunset, green valleys dipped away into forests or rose up to hills of yellow moor-grass. Fields were sectioned by the criss-cross of stone walls, and the road snaked through this scene, never-ending.

  The background hum of the van comforted me. Nervous anticipation tickled at my stomach. For the first time in what felt like months – but was a few weeks – I had hope again. In a few hours I would see my dad, and even though we’d only been apart for a short while I missed him more than I could even express. I would be able to touch him again, to wrap my arms around his paunch and let him call me Minnie. He’d pat my shoulders, never sure how to comfort me, and hold back his own tears. I’d get to hear him chastise me, and we could practice meditating and sparring. It would be just like old times.

  Except that it wouldn’t be like old times. He’d left me. He’d kept things from me; members of my own family. An image popped into my head, the memory of Uncle Matthew being dragged away by the Enforcers, and I exhaled sharply. Reg raised an eyebrow, and I realised how angry I was letting myself become. I decided to concentrate on the rhythm of the van chugging along the road.

  The road dipped and rose over rolling hills and churning rivers chasing each other through poppy fields and forests. When we reached an abandoned town the sky turned grey, and the sights disappeared into the forthcoming night. My eyes had to strain through the darkness to see the crumbling buildings: an empty shopping centre, a child’s toy in the gutter, houses with broken windows, and a door hanging loose on its hinges. I wondered how quickly people left after the Fracture, whether they had time to fetch their belongings – photograph albums and teddy-bears rotting a
way inside the buildings.

  I liked the thought of nature taking over in the cities abandoned after the Fracture; ivy growing over rubble, the stalks as thick as my wrist; weeds poking through the cracks in the pavement, pushing the tarmac aside with their roots; trees sprouting in the middle of old shopping centres. Long after humans leave the Earth those weeds would still be going strong, winding their way around our houses and machines, growing until all tenements and office blocks were covered with green. I closed my eyes, comforted by the thought and then I drifted into my first dreamless sleep.

  *

  I woke up to chaos. Ali’s body disappeared into the roof, and the machine gun choked and spluttered above my head. Mary shouted out words like “chase” and “gaining”. The van veered to the right, and more headlights streamed through the blacked out windows.

  “What’s going on?” whimpered Angela.

  “Reg, keep the van on the road will ye?” yelled Mary. “Mina, get back here fer cover.”

  I clambered back over the seat, my breath coming out in panicked rasps. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t. We’d been safe. We should be safe now. The van careered from side to side.

  “They’ve shot a tyre,” Reg shouted. “I cannae keep the van in control.”

  “How far te the border?” Mary called back, never taking her eye away from the viewfinder of her rifle.

  “Few hundred feet, if that,” Reg replied. The tone of his voice chilled the atmosphere in the van. “It’d as well be a hundred miles. We cannae make it.”

  2

  The van jerked to the right, and I fell on top of Ginge. Then I fell backwards into Angela, my body sprawling until I was almost fact to face with Daniel. He squirmed in his fevered sleep and for a moment, despite the chaos, I just wanted to brush his blond hair, damp from his sweat, away from his forehead. Angela noticed me looking so I backed away. Sebastian caught my shoulders and pulled me into a sitting position.

  The rat-a-rat-a-rat-a of the machine gun continued. My heart sank as the headlights gained on us with Reg trying to keep the van on course despite its blown out tyre.

  “We’ve got t’make it, Reg,” Ali called down from the roof of the van. “Come on, just a bit longer.” I heard him shouting even louder towards the border. “Hey! Hey! Get the gates open, it’s the Scavengers!”

  We hit the verge. By now I could hear the roar of the engine behind us, speeding, gaining on our tracks. Reg pulled us out of the grass and back on the road, but the van spluttered, and we lost speed.

  “I’m tellin’ ye, Ali,” Reg yelled. “This is bad. Really bad.”

  Daniel stirred in his sleep. Angela whispered something soothing to calm him. There was fear in her eyes. Sebastian stiffened next to me.

  I jumped to my feet, unable to bear it any longer. “Can I help?”

  Ali’s head poked down through the ceiling. “Get up here, kid.”

  I moved up onto the crate.

  “Can ye move cars?”

  My eyes widened. “I don’t…” The wind whipped at my hair as Ali helped manoeuvre me to be able to see our followers. It was so cold it took my breath away. It was dark, but when I squinted I saw the open-top army truck.

  “Mina?” Ali snapped.

  “Sorry,” I said, forcing myself to concentrate. A bullet hit the van and brought me back to reality with a thump. “Yes, I can… I think. I’ll try.”

  “Don’t try,” he said, “do.”

  I closed my eyes. I blocked everything out – the machine gun, the Enforcers, the smell of the wind – and I brought that familiar heat up through my body. To harness my power I had to get angry, and so I thought of my dad. I pictured his goodbye note. I remembered how I’d felt when I realised he had lied about my Uncle. I thought about my old school teacher – Mrs Murgatroyd or Murder-Troll as we called her – humiliating me in front of my friends. I smiled to myself as the familiar sensation tingled at my finger-tips and for the first time ever, I felt powerful. I felt as though I could do anything: even move cars with my mind.

  Beneath me the van swerved. Ali’s hands were on my shoulders, steadying me against the sway. It felt good to be guided, and I used that feeling to help guide my thoughts. I pictured the truck in my mind. Something seared through my mind and I heard Ali’s intake of breath. It took all of my strength, but I focussed on my gift, imagining the truck flipping from the road, the Enforcer’s scattering, dropping their guns.

  “Holy moly,” Ali mumbled. “Ye really doing it. Keep going, kid, they’re almost gone.”

  The van lurched to the side. The energy drained from my body until I was almost a husk, but with my last bit of power I thought of the truck turning over onto its roof.

  “Ye did it!”

  I opened my eyes to the mess. The tail lights of the van bounced onto the tangled metal of the Enforcer’s truck. “Are they hurt?”

  “Who cares?” Ali said. “They’re Enforcers.”

  “They’re people,” I said with a choked voice, looking at the effects of my handiwork. The Enforcers lay scattered around the truck, some not moving. My body went limp and Ali had to tighten his grip to stop me falling through the roof of the van.

  “Ye all right, kid?” he asked.

  “Tired,” I said, too exhausted to speak. Every part of me wanted to collapse but Ali didn’t let me. Instead, he turned me around to face the direction the van was headed.

  “We’re going te make it,” he said, “because of what ye just did. This is a war, Mina. There has te be casualties.”

  I wanted to know what he meant by a war, but my attention was drawn to the gates up ahead. They were enormous, at least twenty feet tall, with barbed wire running along the edge. The van’s headlights dipped onto people standing guard by the ginormous gate – men with guns, skin pink from the sun and hair buzz-cut like soldiers. They laughed and waved the van forward. One of the men opened a control panel and my heart skipped a beat as the gates opened. We were here. Scotland. The clans. The compound.

  Ali dropped me back down into the van and Reg guided us through the opened gates, slapping the hands of the guards in greeting. They teased him about his driving and asked what the hell happened to the truck following us. Reg turned to me before he answered and I shook my head, not wanting to answer questions just yet.

  “We need a doctor,” Angela said to guards as we passed through the entrance, she’d pushed half her body through to the front of the van.

  “Aye, I’ll get one sent, lass. Cool ye boots, eh?” said the guard.

  I frowned, trying to concentrate on his words. Ali saw my confused expression and laughed.

  “Dunnae worry, kid,” he said. “We’re not all Scottish. And out of us Scottish we aren’t all Glaswegian scum.”

  The guard laughed as we pulled into the compound. We piled out of the van, rubbing our aching legs. It was the middle of the night and would have been pitch black if it wasn’t for the powerful floodlights dotted around the Compound wall. The orange glow made our faces look jaundiced, especially Daniel who had taken a turn for the worse. A hand went to my mouth. Angela had him propped up on the edge of the van.

  “Medics,” Ali shouted. “One fer the medics here!”

  I helped Angela and Sebastian lift Daniel from the van. He was still weak and struggled to stand upright on the grass. I flinched as his face tensed with the pain.

  “Where are they?” I snapped at Ali.

  “They’re on their way,” he replied. He eyed Daniel with unease. My heart quickened, and despite not believing in God, I prayed for the medics to hurry. Finally more headlights appeared and small ambulance came screeching to a halt. Two paramedics jumped out and fetched a stretcher from the back. It was barely big enough for a patient and a couple of people.

  “I’m going with him,” Angela said to the medics.

  “I’ll come too,” I said.

  “Just one,” a medic in blue scrubs replied.

  Daniel sucked in his breath as they helped him onto the stret
cher. He reached out and grabbed hold of my hand. “Find your dad.”

  I squeezed his fingers as tears welled up in my eyes. Sebastian placed a gentle hand on my arm.

  “He’ll be okay,” Sebastian said as they took Daniel into the van.

  I watched the ambulance drive away along a narrow gravel path within the compound. I sighed, knowing there was nothing else I could do except wait for Daniel to get better. But even still it took a deep breath and a physical shake to pull myself together and tear my eyes away from the medics disappearing into the dark. When they were no longer visible, I forced myself to look around at my surroundings, shadowed by the night. We were in the entrance of what seemed to be a large campsite. The immediate space had been divided by the same narrow gravel path that the ambulance had travelled along. On either side of this path were mobile homes and tents. They were small, but people had made the best of things, hanging their washing on wire stretched between poles, sectioning off little gardens in the same manner and nailing little plaques to the doors of their trailers. There were children’s toys, little bikes and trikes, dotted around the camp. It looked as though families had settled here.

  But that didn’t quite describe the feeling I got from looking out at the glorified campsite. There was something else. It was just tangible, more of an instinct or a feeling: a little niggle at the back of my mind. It was a good feeling. A sense of calm. I didn’t understand why, but I felt like I was home.

  “What is this place?” I said.

  “It’s an Army Barrack,” Ali explained. “Scotland separated from the rest o’Britain during the Fracture. They put a wall up, some of it merging with the old border. Parts of the army settled here to help keep the English out.”

  “I’m English,” I said. “Does that mean people will hate me?

  “That’s different. Yer a Separatist too. Yer’ve left all that behind.” He put a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Yer part of the vanished now, kid. That’s what we all are – the people who’ve been forgotten.”