A World Apart (34 page)

“Sorry I…” added Edward, noticing Francesca’s pale complexion.

“Fine Edward” said Alexandra softly, raising her hand to tell him to keep his big mouth shut. And so he did, keeping quiet for a few minutes, thinking about his family and friends, lost forever. Edward recalls a family photo that he had on his bedside table back in the regeneration dome. This was the only photo he had, the only one that wasn’t damaged. He, like others has lost everything and it was just now occurring to him, making him feel sad and angry as he could not reach the photo even just to remind himself of his loved ones. The thought of returning back in the dome was a ghastly thought, impossible without being caught now that the teachers have seen them leave. Edward shrugged the idea off with a stubborn look across his face.

For a few more moments no one spoke, taking in the surroundings, the air, the smell and the once life that could be felt running through the soil. A cracking of a small branch or twig brought their attention elsewhere. A shadow brushed by the in distance behind a bush, along with a fumbling movement.

“What was that?” asked Francesca, her voice sounding tepid and vulnerable. None of the others cared to deliver her some reassuring words, for they were all just as petrified.

“It really isn’t safe here. We need to find somewhere to stay. Somewhere that is safe and where no-one will find us” said Alexandra, taking the mothering reins as quickly as possible.

“Yeah, but where? London’s derelict and we have no facilities here. No water. No food and…” said Edward, before being unpleasantly interrupted, which he made clear with a rather justified cough.

“I know just the place” said Francesca, waving an old key around. This settled the debate, as they all walked further towards the heart of the city. A veteran tree stood tall as the three shadows walked straight past, Edward looking at the very top branch that nearly touched the sky. The bark of the tree had signs of a severe beating, scratches and rotten patches swamped the trees belly. Edward spotted a drawing of a carved heart and initials inside. The letters were ‘R M’ and ‘K D’, roughly scraped into the trees chest. Francesca felt warmed by the thought of two lovers etching their names together. Edward didn’t really understand love or girls; he saw it as complicated.

They walked on past a new life of countryside that London has never seen, overgrown and wild. The sodden ground crept onto their bodies as they walked across a section of tall grass, which fell down towards the heart of the city. The destruction had caused the land to change dramatically, houses and buildings subsiding, docks collapsed in the river Thames. Surprisingly, the colour of the river had altered, turning from a dingy brown to a raw blue. Only a few birds could be heard in the distance, their squawks easily heard which shocked Alexandra as the noise was slightly different from back in the regeneration dome. Edward reached for his saggy combat trousers and took out a small portable radio. Francesca and Alexandra notice him do so and sigh immediately, as he is always carrying it around with him.

“Ed…not that thing again” said Francesca, rolling her eyes and her and Alexandra pushed passed him and walked on ahead, leaving him fumbling behind as he fiddled precariously with the device.

“No, maybe it may work here. People may still be alive” said Edward, suddenly realising how idiotic that was.

“Yeah and how old and hungry do you think they’d be?” replied Alexandra, laughing with Francesca as she turned her back and walked slowly on. Edward ignored their disapproval and continued to fiddle with the device, giving an annoyed grunt to the girls in front. He twisted the small knob on the top of the silver radio, searching through the frequencies. The channels were crackling as he scrolled through them.

“Do you really think there could be some survivors?” asked Francesca, as they both looked back at Edward, now contemplating the thought of him being right.

“I hope so Fran” replied Alexandra after careful deliberation. The girls watched as they paused for a while a few yards ahead of Edward. They watched him desperately search for a voice, anything that may cheer them all up.

“We’ll never find anything with him” said Francesca, pointing back at Edward as they both turned to see him. He was standing on his tip-toes of the hill, aiming the radio as high as he could reach. The girls immediately broke into a fit of giggles as Edward blushed and slowly adjusted himself.

“I’ve heard that our parents used to do this back in their day. I’m not stupid. I heard professor Woi-Chi talk about it is Millennium History” shouted Edward, making him look even more ridiculous in front of them. The girls continued their laughter, concealing it as Edward approached, tucking his radio into his knee pocket as he walked.

“So…what great ideas do either of you have to offer?” said Edward, deeply enraged as he starred violently at the two girls. The girls shrugged off the question as they felt stumped out, which returned Edward’s cheeks to normal and planted a smile back on his face.

“We need to find a place to hide out. The teachers will be looking for us!” snarled Francesca proudly. Edward crossed his arms and gulped hard, regretful for his serious attack earlier.

“My house isn’t zat var from here, zats if it still exists” replied Alexandra, jumping straight into the conversation.

“Where did you live, I mean…” said Edward, making Francesca gasp and stop him with her arm even though his was motionless.

“It is in Islington, not far from here. Not as nice as my home back in Sweden though” replied Alexandra, in her deep accent.

“Right, there’s no underground so it will take us a little longer” said Francesca, assessing the situation and taking charge.

“We’ll have to make a move as its getting late, and we don’t want to be moving at night, not where we don’t know is safe anyway” continued Francesca, organising the group. The three put aside their quarrels and set off further down the dusty hill, heading for Alexandra’s house.

By now the darkness had settled in, dropping low and spilling its rays across the landscape. Edward, Alexandra and Francesca could be seen as they walked slowly down the hill, coming closer towards the destruction.

“Where is your house?” asked Francesca, hurling a considerate look at the individual piles of debris that lay unconscious at her feet. The condensed atmosphere pressed again their faces, inflicting pain as if the city was showing them it’s past.

“Erm…I’m not entirely sure. It’s hard to recognise” replied Alexandra, puzzled as she looked, adjusting her hands in her jumper pockets.

“It was number 901” added Alexandra, recalling the black and white numbers outside her house as she approached with her family after coming back from a trip. The children carried on down the black road that joined the hill, heading deeper down the street as they saw complete darkness at the very end. Cars were left deserted all around them, burnt and crisp from fires and panic. Large chunks of glass and wood filled the road as well as the darkness, making it hard for them to avoid stepping on something sharp. The road bent to the right so the children followed suit, joining a bridge and a railway crossing. A factory that Alexandra used to remember now resided vertically, imitating cardboard. The majority of the houses that had survived were towards the other end of town. Metro newspapers flapped in a whirlpool motion as the wind picked up its pace. Edward grabbing one that was airborne as he tried to make out the writing but it was too dark.

“This might help” claimed Edward, stuffing the street bound litter into his back jean pocket. The newspaper headline could be slightly seen

WORLD CHAOS: AI FORCED TO RECONCILE ITS PLANS

Edward took no notice of the headline and diverted to what Alexandra and Francesca were looking at, barely being able to see without his reading glasses. They were looking at an extremely tall building which must be at least twenty or thirty floors high. Remarkably it was still reasonably in tacked. Scrap metal stuck out from the buildings sides, clearly injured badly but managing to hold its balance.

“Wow, what is that?” exclaimed Edward in disbelief, his eyes tilting as far back as they could go.

“It’s probably one of those government buildings or something” replied Francesca, taking a wild guess.

“I’ve read that they used to house moaning old men that would discuss politics” added Francesca, instantly achieving a smile from Edward. Unfortunately, no clues remained to what the building was used for. They carried on past the house, moving at an incredibly slow speed. The landscape in front of them seemed to merge into each other, leaving no distinction to where you are.

“I’m not too sure where my house might be” said Alexandra, plucking up the courage in her few moments of silence. However, Edward chose a subtle way to vent his anger by grinding his teeth until it actually started to hurt.

“It’s because all the buildings and houses I used to know are either destroyed or half-standing” continued Alexandra, deeming it necessary to explain herself.

A spooky tangy orange glow scared the children as it quickly descended. It would be completely dark within an hour, so they don’t have much searching time. Edward was restless in his appearance, losing all faith rapidly in finding Alexandra’s house. On the contrary, Alexandra beamed back at him enthusiastically at the thought of getting near.

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The teachers stood facing the newly formed hole in the regeneration dome. Most of them gazed contently at the thought of their pupil entering the endangered city. The alarms were in full tune now, echoing around the dome, creating a deafening wail that pierced your skin and bones. A young gentleman appeared from the crowd of teachers, standing around six feet tall, short black hair and a face scattered with stubble. He hadn’t been there long, finding the sight disturbing as they did. Jarvis is a son of the head master Philippe Prettle, aged twenty-two. He soon sprinted back towards the main hall that stood behind him, scuffing the soil and scrambling up the hill and onto the pristine grounds. He entered through the main gates, bursting through the doors like a bulldozer and heading for the wide stairs that spiraled towards the very head of the building. The maid turned her head and looked inquisitively, watching him effortlessly climb the stairs, clonking loudly as he walked. The noise was mainly aggravating the maid more that the sudden appearance of gangly Jarvis. He finally reached a brilliant brown door, the edges bulky and dramatic. Without delay Jarvis grabbed the giant knocker on the door yanked it hard against the door, creating a deep banging that echoed around the hall. His father’s voice could be heard soon after but he struggled to acknowledge what he was saying. Moments later Philippe repeated himself, followed by a dainty cough.

“Yes come in boy” said Philippe, shocking Jarvis with the loud tone of his voice. The door gently released itself and fell inwards into his office. The room was a semi-circular shape with green windows at the far end, Jarvis always thinks of them as oversized wine bottles. Philippe was hunched over his desk looking at a screen whilst filing documents into various trays. He was wearing a ridiculous red robe that stretched to the floor, emphasised by his faded hair colour and pale complexion, like a skinless apple that has been naturally weathered. A hazy green tingle fell across Philippe’s face, just as Jarvis had finally collected his thoughts.

“It’s happened father!” said Jarvis, trembling with fear at what his father’s reaction might be. The room plunged into quietness. A deep breath made Jarvis flinch.

“Very well then, I will sort things out from here Jarvis” replied Philippe dismissively. Philippe remained calm and considerate, which scared Jarvis even more than usual. Jarvis noticed his father acting oddly around him, as if he wanted him to disappear quickly. Jarvis turned his head swiftly and headed for the door until his father stopped him in his tracks.

“Jarvis” said Philippe slowly, making Jarvis stop dead around a foot away from the door. Jarvis turned his head around, leaving his body still facing the door, realising that Philippe’s face was full of anger and despise.

“Yes father?” whimpered Jarvis, kicking himself and not leaving quick enough.

“Do you remember what I told you?” asked Philippe sternly.

“Yes of course father. Right away” replied Jarvis poignantly as he left the room and headed towards the main control unit on the very top floor of the dome. A dangerous set of wooden steps lead precariously vertically to a much smaller door that could only be seen from a side-on angle. Jarvis watched his footsteps intently as he climbed higher and higher, sweat pouring down his cheeks where they dried from the heat he was giving off. He looked around and opened the door discretely and fiddled with some machinery in the dark room, quickly closing the door as he heard footsteps approaching below him. Jarvis headed for his father’s office once again, treading carefully so that the floorboards wouldn’t shriek. He finally approached the main corridor and felt at ease at the sight of it being empty. A hand placed on Jarvis’ shoulder, making him temporarily paralysed. It was Mr Deeds standing right behind him. The renowned strict mannerisms and grumpy old ways prepared Jarvis at what he might say. A gruelling moment lingered as the two finally met eye to eye.