3004 by Natasha Murray - HTML preview

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Rowan sat on a wall near the apartment where he and his mentors, Dale and Sarah, and his brother, Byron, lived. Rowan knew that they would be back from work and were probably preparing a meal or catching up with each other’s news. He imagined them laughing at something that happened at work. Sarah was always getting in trouble for not plucking all of the ostrich she was given at the meat production centre where she worked. He longed to see them all. He watched the windows of the apartment carefully, waiting for someone to pass by. Rowan had spent so many weeks looking forward to this moment and yet he found himself hesitating, as he feared that they might not be able to remember him. He thought that they might have given him up for dead and been brainwashed so that they no longer knew who Rowan was. There was probably a new family living in his apartment. Dale, Sarah and Byron would have been moved on to another part of the country.

If Dale and Sarah were still in the apartment, then Rowan knew that if he turned up on their doorstep as he was, not neutralised and remembering every detail of the past few weeks, then he would throw their lives into turmoil. Dale and Sarah had always been eager to conform and did everything by the book. They would want to take him straight to the cleansing centre. If Rowan persuaded them not to have him brain-cleansed, that would be difficult too; he imagined Dale worrying about what the authorities would do to them all, for knowing too much about the wilderness and Sarah would cry because they were breaking the rules. Rowan knew he couldn’t go home and ruin their lives.

Rowan jumped of the wall, turned his back on his apartment and walked away. He did not know what to do next. It was only a matter of time before the authorities tracked him down. He would be taken to the cleaning centre and his misery would end. But he did not want to be processed; something deep inside was stopping him. He could almost feel the chip in his heel bleeping, calling out to London and betraying his whereabouts. The buildings around him seemed to be closing in on him. The bricks looked like they wanted to crush him. His world was collapsing and he would soon be buried alive. He belonged nowhere. He was a misfit and he would be crushed. Rowan’s head was spinning and he could see the world in black and white only. His knees were buckling and he couldn’t breathe.

Just as Rowan thought he was on the point of no return, a small thing kicked him back into the cruel light of reality. A small girl with long dark hair was standing at the door of her apartment looking out at him. Rowan had not noticed her before. She was holding a bucket and was throwing some home-made compost onto some tomato plants. Rowan looked at the bucket. It was exactly the same one that he and Kayleb had taken from the well they had been left in; even the dent on the side of the bucket matched. Rowan knew it couldn’t be the same bucket but the likeness was uncanny. Rowan wasn’t sure what had become of the bucket. Rowan breathed deeply. He would find a way to get back to his mentors and Byron. He wasn’t alone. There were bound to be others like him. Rowan breathed in the cool air and took a tentative step forward. The ground held firm. His surroundings were in focus again.

Rowan looked ahead. A familiar figure ran between two apartments further up the street. It was a young man with untamed golden curls that shone in the late-afternoon sunshine. Rowan blinked in case he had been seeing things. He was almost certain that he had just seen Indigo running by.

Rowan started to run, in pursuit of Indigo to find out where he was going. There was no one else chasing Indigo; he couldn’t see any police on their scooters. Rowan quickened his pace. His legs felt much stronger now. He did not want to lose him; he did not want to be alone again.

Rowan was grateful that everyone had finished tending their crops. Only a few children were playing on the streets. The curfew siren had not yet blasted. The children stared at Rowan, as he pelted past them. Rowan had Indigo in sight and it wasn’t long before Rowan realised where Indigo was going. Indigo was heading up the hill to the mansion house where a famous digi-film or music star lived. Rowan had been into the gardens of the house many times but did not know who lived there. He finally caught up with Indigo at the main gate. Indigo was studying the hand plate lock in the centre of the tall iron gates and did not hear Rowan approach.

‘You’re not going in there, are you?’ Rowan asked breathlessly.

‘Oh my word!’ exclaimed Indigo with surprise. ‘My heart just skipped a beat. You could have coughed or made a noise or something. I thought you were the police.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Rowan. ‘Didn’t you see me chasing you? Are the police after you then?’

Indigo looked at Rowan with interest. ‘How come you recognise me? Didn’t you have your brain zapped?’

‘Zapped?’ replied Rowan.

‘Yes, zapped. Didn’t you choose to go back and be cleansed?’

‘Yes,’ said Rowan slowly. ‘It didn’t work out that way. I’m on the run ... I don’t know where I’m going ... Where is everyone else? Why are you on your own?’

‘Oh, you’re not going to believe it. Cornwall has only turned out to be a turncoat, some sort of police agent. She has turned us all in. Never did trust that girl; there was something about her eyes. David and the others are going to be taken to police headquarters and they’ll probably be thrown back into the wilderness. Kayleb will probably be brain-zapped or thrown out. I’m not sure. God, I used to love France. Robin wanted us to go there to work. He’ll be lucky. I don’t think I will be able to travel any more,’ said Indigo, smacking the palm space on the lock of the gate. ‘So close and yet so far ... the story of my life! Are there no normal locks any more? How on earth do you pick a palm lock? The fence is far too high to climb, and there are no footholds.’

‘Why do you want to go in anyway?’ asked Rowan.

‘This is Ledbetter’s boy’s house. David told me how to get here,’ replied Indigo. Don’t you remember? There is a time machine here. If I can get to it, I will be able to get home.’ Indigo leant his head on the gate and grasped the bars either side of his head. ‘I’m never going to get home.’

‘Yuck! There’ll be dead bodies in the house, won’t there?’ exclaimed Rowan, looking towards the house. ‘They’re probably rotting in there.’

‘Thanks,’ said Indigo sarcastically. ‘You’re a great help!’

‘There is a way in,’ said Rowan. ‘I used to play in the gardens when I was small. Nobody ever chased us out. I don’t think stars are allowed to leave their houses unless they have a police escort.’

‘Why’s that?’ asked Indigo. ‘Do you have problems with newspaper reporters?’

‘No. They have been torn to shreds by underground groups because they always have food and are not rationed on anything. People get jealous. What’s a newspaper?’

‘Just something to read,’ replied Indigo happily. ‘Come on then, how can we get in? We’d better get a move on before the authorities find us.’

Rowan led Indigo along the garden fence to the right of the gate. He looked at the crumbling mansion. Its windows were grey, like blank eyes staring out but unable to see. The house had always looked eerie. He had always been afraid to get too close to it in case he was dragged inside. Rowan shuddered and almost missed the tree he used to climb to get into the grounds of the old mansion.

‘Here we are,’ said Rowan. ‘Look, I love this oak tree. You don’t see many this size these days. The branches go over the fence. If we climb the tree, we can walk along a branch and then jump down. The ground is higher behind the fence. We’ll be able to get off the branch quite easily.’

Indigo’s jaw dropped. ‘I couldn’t walk along a branch ... I’d die! I’d never get up the tree in the first place. I haven’t got a head for heights; you know that.’

Rowan looked annoyed. ‘You’re such a wimp! Look, you have no choice; this is your only way home. The tree is simple to climb. If you want to see Robin again then you have to try. I’ll go first and tell you where to put your hands and feet. The branch we need to walk along is really thick. You’ll be fine. Just don’t look down! Your main problem is making a time machine work. It all sounds a bit unbelievable!’

Indigo sighed. ‘OK, but I’m not promising anything. I’ve got to try at least.’

Rowan guided Indigo up the tree and slowly they worked their way along the branch that hung over the gardens. Rowan walked along the branch and Indigo slid along on his stomach, sweat pouring down his face. As soon as Indigo was over the fence he dropped into the gardens with a scream and then lay in the long grass breathing heavily.

‘You’re not going to have a heart attack, are you?’ asked Rowan as he dropped down from the branch.

‘No I’m not! I’m just doing calming breathing exercises to help me recover from the shock of falling from such a great height!’

Rowan laughed. ‘You’re such a baby! Come on, let’s go and find a way into the house. I wonder if they’re skeletons yet? I’ve never heard of a star called Ledbetter.’

‘He probably has a stage name,’ said Indigo.

‘I’m curious to see who this star is. I knew someone famous lived here, but I didn’t know who. I don’t want to see any bodies though!’ said Rowan anxiously.

‘Now who’s the baby,’ laughed Indigo, getting to his feet.

Slowly Rowan and Indigo walked past the front door of the house. The house seemed to be reluctant to be woken from its sleep. Waist-high weeds grew out of the shingle path that skirted the edge of the house. The windows were too dirty to see into the rooms and there were no sounds or signs of life.

‘Are you sure you have got the right house, Indigo?’ asked Rowan. ‘It doesn’t look like anyone has lived here for years. The last time I came up here was when I was about ten years old.’

‘No, I’m sure,’ said Indigo. ‘David pointed to this hilltop. He said that I was to look for a crumbling mansion with a black wrought-iron fence circling it and in the grounds I was to look for a glasshouse. I think David means a greenhouse or perhaps a conservatory.’

Rowan looked around him. He knew every inch of the grounds, which had always fascinated him because they were so wild, such a contrast to the cultivated land outside of its metal fencing. In many ways the gardens now reminded Rowan of the wilderness; the grasses and flowers were so similar. Although the house itself had always scared him, the grounds were peaceful and a sanctuary from the outside world. He now despised this childhood paradise.

‘What’s that over there?’ asked Indigo, pointing to a group of outbuildings in the far corner of the garden that were covered with ivy.

‘They’re swimming pool houses,’ replied Rowan, snapping out of his daydream. ‘Come on, I’ll show you.’