Volvo had been away a long time and it was obvious from his countenance that things had not gone well. He had kicked Rowan in the side, causing him to cry out, and this outburst set the others cursing him for the noise he made. Aerial had not been in the village. Volvo had been told that he was due back in the village in the morning.
‘Aerial’s the only one worf talkin’ to,’ grumbled Volvo. ‘That scum down there won’t give me a fair price for the boy, so we’ll af to hang on to him till morning. Better hide though; that lot down there would have the shirt off yer back if you don’t watch out,’ he said, pointing towards the settlement. ‘Don’t fink we’re gonna feed yer, cos we’re not. You’re an ungrateful brat,’ he grunted at Rowan.
Rowan felt euphoric for a moment. At least he wasn’t going to be killed but then he realised that he would become Aerial’s property and the thought of what he might be used for in the village worried him. The settlement was now shrouded in darkness. A bridge over the river had glowed vibrantly until the last moment of the day, its splendid arches sliding silently into the night.
‘Come on, you,’ Volvo said loudly, kicking Rowan in the side again. ‘We’ve gotta go to our hideout tonight. Come on, up you get, you lazy git!’
Rowan got to his feet with difficulty. He was hungry and miserable. The ground was damp, his body felt stiff and his side ached where Volvo had kicked him. Rowan was ushered away to a roughly made shelter, hidden in the undergrowth. He walked slowly, as the waster that kept grinning at him had put rope shackles around his ankles again.
There wasn’t much room inside the shack. There was a smell of mildew and the floor was covered with damp sacks filled with hay for beds. Rowan was told to go to the furthest corner and ordered to lie down. Volvo had grown impatient of Rowan walking so slowly and he dragged him to the bed; he then lay down on the bed next to Rowan’s. Three others lay down too and one sat watch at the entrance. Rowan felt so helpless. If he was going to get away he would have to walk over everyone and then get by the man on watch, too. It was going to be tricky and probably impossible. He flung his head back with a loud sigh of impatience.
‘Shut up, you little runt,’ yelled Volvo, smacking him around the face.
Rowan clenched his teeth together. He wasn’t going to cry and give Volvo any satisfaction.
The night pushed on relentlessly and Rowan lay there listening to the others talking. A bottle of strong smelling liquid was passed around and was accepted by each member eagerly. The smell of the drink reminded Rowan of Christmas. Just the word Christmas brought a lump to his throat. This was one of the things he missed about being home. He thought about the last Christmas and how he had enjoyed it when he was small. Sarah and Dale, his mentors, always tried to make Christmas special and managed to decorate the house so well. Decorations were all homemade and were used to decorate a Christmas tree, which was a few pine tree branches in a jar. So much now was almost impossible to buy, as trade between other countries had stopped since the self-sufficiency laws had been introduced. Chocolate was like gold dust and anything made of plastic was unheard of. The thing that was most pleasant about Christmas was being at home with Byron, Dale and Sarah. Tears rolled down Rowan’s face. He had to get away. He would not let these disgusting people treat him like an animal any longer.
Kayleb had been very reluctant to head off into the darkness with Indigo and Cornwall. The coming of night had made the task of finding Rowan seem all the more difficult, and crossing the river had been treacherous. Cornwall was convinced that if they followed the river they would come to a good-sized settlement and this is where a waster would bring a tasker to trade him.
The moon was high in the sky and shone brightly. The clouds had cleared away, so they were able to see where they were going.
‘I know we’re doing the right thing,’ Cornwall whispered to Kayleb as they walked along. ‘I just know Rowan needs our help.’
‘I know you have an unhealthy fascination with him, I know that much,’ snapped Kayleb, hitting the grass angrily with a long stick that he had picked up earlier.
‘Even if we don’t find him,’ said Indigo merrily, ‘at least we’ll have done our best.’
Kayleb breathed in the cold night air; he was irritated by Indigo’s mirth. Before when they had travelled together Kayleb had been scared but had been comforted by the feeling that home was just over the next hill, or he dreamed that they would be woken one morning and transferred back to London, as they had endured enough. The harsh reality now sat heavily on Kayleb’s shoulders. He was days away from the Channel and had to somehow get across it in one piece and then avoid the vicious criminals on the Isle of Wight. He wished now that he didn’t know all the facts; that way, the fear he felt inside would not be so intense.
An hour passed and the silence was only occasionally broken by the eerie cry of a moorhen disturbed by their passing.
Indigo, who was leading them, stopped and turned to Cornwall and Kayleb. ‘Can you smell it?’ he asked.
‘Smell what?’ asked Cornwall.
‘Smoke, a bonfire,’ replied Indigo. ‘I think we’re getting close.’ Indigo continued more eagerly but Cornwall caught his arm to slow him.
‘We must go more carefully,’ she whispered. ‘Remember the wasters have dogs. Luckily we are downwind and the smoke should cover our scent.’
‘So what are we going to do when we reach the village?’ asked Kayleb.
‘We are all wearing white,’ said Indigo. We are so conspicuous,’ continued Indigo, coming to a standstill.
‘I will slip into the village in the morning. I know their ways,’ said Cornwall confidently. ‘I know what to look for. I know what a stud pen looks like, don’t I?’
Kayleb looked doubtfully at Cornwall. Her clothes were new and her skin was too clean.
Cornwall patted her bag. ‘I have my old clothes here in my backpack. I couldn’t bear to leave them; they’re all I have. I’ll change into these and then when I go into the village, I’ll blend in.’
Kayleb did not want any harm to come to Cornwall. He felt guilty that he was going to let her go into the village alone and a knot in his stomach tightened as he thought of what might happen to her.
It took them longer than they thought to reach the edge of the settlement and the night was starting to wane. They lay in the tall grass near the river and watched the sunrise. They were surprised to see, next to the wasters’ settlement, an ancient city. The grey stone buildings stood tall, the spire on the cathedral cut into the pink sky and an arched bridge sprang from the river. The city itself was strangely deserted.
Squalid dwellings spread along the edges of the city like a fungus and with the arrival of the morning the inhabitants had begun to stir. Ragged men and woman emerged from their shacks and began getting ready for the day.
‘I think the town is protected with a shield,’ suggested Indigo.
‘Like Ledbetter’s castle. It’s just as well really. If these wasters got into the city, they’d probably destroy it. I bet this village is rife with vermin and disease with all that rubbish lying around.’
Cornwall looked indignantly towards Indigo. ‘Not all the wasters are as rough and uncivilised as these are. It is hard living without running water; they do the best they can.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Indigo. ‘I wasn’t thinking.’
‘No, you’re right,’ continued Cornwall. ‘These shanty towns are filthy. They disgust me.’
It was decided that they would lie low and watch for a while until everyone was up and maybe then they might spot Rowan. The sun was warm and they felt sleep calling. It was too strong to resist and soon all three were fast asleep.
Kayleb was the first to wake up. The sun was now really hot and the fierce rays beat down on his face. He touched his cheek and then his nose; they felt sore. Anxiously he looked down at the village to see if he could see Rowan. He was quite surprised to see how many people were out and about. It would be quite easy to look around without being noticed. A large burly man in a fur waistcoat was making his way across the village centre and Kayleb recognised him immediately. Kayleb woke the others and pointed to the man striding along.
‘Look, I’ve seen him.’
‘Who, Rowan?’ asked Cornwall with excitement.
‘No, not Rowan, Volvo! Look he’s stopped now and is standing by that well talking to the man in the blue coat.’
Cornwall scanned the village, her heart beating loudly. She followed Kayleb’s gaze and saw Volvo. She wasn’t pleased to see him and looked apprehensive.
‘It’s going to be much harder to find Rowan now that Volvo is here. He is a wiry old fox and it will be difficult to dodge him,’ Cornwall said miserably.
‘So let me go! I’ll wear your clothes. He doesn’t know me. I will slip by Volvo easily,’ said Kayleb confidently.
‘So you are willing to wear girl’s clothes to help save Rowan? You are a good friend. It might just work,’ said Indigo, smiling.
As Kayleb changed, Cornwall described to him what a stud pen would look like; the taskers were usually kept in a fortified shelter with a guard at the door. A group of girls took food twice a day to the hut and Cornwall’s plan was for Kayleb to join the girls as they went into the pen and see if he could spot Rowan among the hungry taskers. They would think of a plan to actually rescue Rowan from the stud pen later.
Cornwall’s clothes did not fit Kayleb that well but the disguise was good enough, and with a bit of mud rubbed into his face and arms and his hair, which had grown quite long, it was hard to tell if Kayleb was male or female.