INK: Blue (INK Trilogy Book 3) (3 page)

A lot could have happened since they'd shut themselves away. They talked about what the towns would be like now. Would buildings still be standing? What would the roads be like? How much more popular would The Eventuals be? They even discussed The Commorancy, wondering if people still went there, if it was something Aiden could maybe do. But as he'd not really spoken of it for some time now they both agreed it was best not to bring it up — if the rumors had been true then you went there to Awaken to your full potential, and that could take anything from a few years to who knew how long?

Yet at the same time both of them knew that their partial Awoken selves were not really aging as they would otherwise have. There had been talk right from the term Awoken first being coined, that Awoken could change their internal body chemistry, never age a day. There seemed no end to what the special few could do with the countless possibilities through access to The Noise — some that could enter the minds of both creatures and people, but it was easy to dismiss it all as mere myth. Yet at the same time it felt right, like there really was a lot of hidden potential that one day they might decide to try to unlock, but it would mean a dramatic change to a life they had come to love as much as they loved each other.

They fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms, Edsel reveling in the touch of his soul-mate. His skin sensitive to her warmth, the touch of her fingers, no longer ashamed of his Ink, just grateful that the pain was gone, that he had the ability to enjoy her caresses once more — he'd thought it was gone for good. Now he felt himself the luckiest man alive every time she touched him and he could enjoy it rather than steel himself for the pain, or want to hide himself because his body was less than perfect. Yet here she was, and her skin was perfect, just like their life.

The island was beautiful if somewhat barren, but it wasn't depressing in its ruggedness, it was what made it so inspiring. Edsel marveled at the tiny wild flowers you had to get down on your hands and knees to truly appreciate. He loved the sound of the sea, the smell of the salty air, the call of the birds he wished he knew the names for. He lost himself for full days watching the seals on the stony beaches, the young as needing of their mothers as babies of all species, astounded by the kindness and the brutality all creatures seemed to possess within them when it came to the protection of themselves and their family.

It was a quiet yet wondrous existence, nature at its finest, unblemished and untainted by the urge to change it to fit in with some kind of man-made order. It was just how it should be, and Edsel was blessed to be a part of it all — a caretaker of sorts, there just to document, never to interfere.

It was a shame it was about to change. Wasn't it?

TRIP

The plan was that there shouldn't be too much of a plan, apart from ensuring that they stayed well away from any Eventuals — something Edsel didn't need to insist on, it went without saying. It might have been five years but there was no saying what would happen if they bumped into any that still remembered Edsel, or knew of his story. The best you could hope for is that they would hunt you and kill you, and all three of them knew what the worst could be. It was impossible to know just how rampant the religion had become in the intervening years; all of them knew it was wishful thinking to believe it had just died along with the probably ever-diminishing populace.

Edsel's guts squirmed and tightened just thinking about The Eventuals — forever linked in his mind to Ink, gurneys, searing pain and humiliation.

They would go directly across to England, using the same boat they had arrived on five years ago. They'd had their pick of vessels when Edsel had come up with the idea, and although none of them had any sailing experience it came as a surprise to Edsel how easy it was to get the hang of controlling the rather powerful boat they had finally chosen.

Life on the island north of Wales had been one of pure isolation and a feeling of safety, and they didn't want to risk going back to Wales — there were simply too many bad memories and there wasn't much choice in terms of large towns, which Aiden was keen on exploring. So they would head east from the island and in only a handful of miles they would hit the west coast of England. They could move up or down the coast by boat, staying hidden from the mainland until they decided to go ashore. All they needed was a suitable mooring point, and there were countless towns and cities, large and small, that had marinas or harbors that would allow them to dock the boat, hopefully without any problems.

For two days Aiden was like a small child again, running around manically, chatting non-stop about what he wanted to do, books he wanted to get, TV shows he wanted to look for, ones he had watched trailers for repeatedly on the few DVDs they had taken with them when they had loaded up the boat, still in a daze after what had happened, leaving for a new life away from anything and everything.

But that time was gone; they had been half-asleep, hardly thinking through the things they needed for long term existence away from everything they had always taken for granted even after The Lethargy. But they managed, they thrived, with Edsel making a few tentative trips to the various small islands dotted around the Welsh north coast, never finding another person alive on the few islands that once had tiny communities making their lives away from the society that was.

He'd found great quality solar equipment though, even chickens — which made Aiden enormously happy — and other comforts that made their life better. But the longer they had peace, the less inclined Edsel was to go hunting for more things — the risk seemed so much greater the longer their lives were peaceful and uninterrupted.

Edsel found it strange to think of all the countless items that had seemed like necessities back when he lived in the city, or even when they moved to the country — life on the island had shown them all just how simply people could live and still be happy. At least, he thought they were happy, but all things must come to an end he supposed.

Now it was clear that Aiden had needed more, had just been too reticent to bring it up. He'd never moaned, never insisted he go with Edsel on the trips, always accepted his and Lash's decision.

Probably too scared we would say he could never leave.

Once the big trip was planned though, he was like a shaken can of cola; he really was just about ready to pop. He talked endlessly, exhausting Edsel and Lash, a whirlwind that was doing one chore one minute then off to do something else the next. He made lists, discussed them ad nauseam with Edsel and Lash, redid them, expanded them, crossed some things off, and hardly slept he was so excited.

It was hard to get their home organized with Aiden rushing around, forgetting what he was doing, abandoning a job half finished, actually making everything more difficult rather than helping to secure things for when they returned. Systems needed to be put in place to feed the chickens, vegetable plots needed to be tended, precious seed sown so they would have the food they were accustomed to when they came home. The house needed sorting, tools needed to be cleaned and put away, and on it went — countless small jobs that all added up to a very busy few days for them all, especially Edsel and Lash, who spent half their time clearing away after the whirlwind that was Aiden — more excited than they had ever seen him.

Then the day was upon them, and they awoke to a heavy mist in the valley that cleared by the time they'd eaten breakfast. Edsel closed the front door and locked it, not that it made any difference, but it was symbolic. He had the horrible feeling that he would never be unlocking the door again. It must have rubbed off on the others as there was silence as they walked down the path away from the house, Lash drifting a hand over the tops of her herb garden as she passed, the bees buzzing angrily at the intrusions, a welcome sight, as this was the first year there had been any kind of real insect life — nothing had escaped The Lethargy, not even the insects.

There was no car, it would have been useless even if there was one. The island was deserted, the only building was a remarkably large and comfortable stone cottage restored by the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds for the few months of the year when a team descended to take detailed records of the migrating species that Edsel hadn't seen a single sign of in their years as the sole inhabitants. The road was but a dirt track that led to their home, but it was a relatively short walk to the tiny wharf that had been constructed so that boats could easily dock with supplies, or the teams that came and went.

Once the island had been home to a few families, mostly making a living by keeping sheep — that fared very well on the lush grass and abundance of wild herbs, selling for a premium once taken to the mainland. But that had been long before The Lethargy, and the island had been uninhabited for decades before it was given to the RSPB so they could help understand the routes certain birds took when they migrated through Europe to warmer climes.

Aiden bounced down to the boat along the rickety wooden pier, checking that Lash and Edsel were hurrying too, not wanting to miss the opportunity to get going on what was a perfect day for an adventure. A calm sea, a bright clear sky, and a boat full of essentials for an extended trip all conspired to make Aiden practically salivate in anticipation of adventures to be had.

They hadn't discussed how long they were to be away for — it would break the magic of adventure for Aiden, but Edsel and Lash had talked privately and had agreed that they would simply play it by ear but that a month would be the absolute longest. After that they would return home and see how Aiden felt about future trips. For all they knew the reality might be too much for him, dashing his expectations and making him long for their quiet life. Neither of them really believed it though. They knew that once they were back in the middle of what was once civilization then it was going to be hard to convince Aiden to leave it all behind again. But a promise of a return trip would be enough, hopefully, to ensure that at least for the majority of the time the family was safe and happy.

"Come on, come on, we want to get our early start don't we?"

"Yes Aiden, sorry Aiden, I do apologize Aiden." Edsel smiled at Lash as Aiden turned and stood on the tiny jetty, vibing them to hurry up.

He'll leave without us if we don't get a move on. Poor guy, he's still like a kid in some respects.

Aiden had done most of the loading of the boat, a vessel that Edsel found himself growing surprisingly fond of the few times he used it, enjoying traveling alone, at peace out in the sea with nothing but birds for company. Clothes, food and water took up the bulk of their supplies, along with other basic necessities and a number of weapons. But food and water, as always, were the main concerns so they had packed much more than they thought they could use before it turned bad. Lash had become quite the expert at preserving their limited food choices, and although Edsel wasn't overly fond of canned vegetables, dried meats and fish, it was certainly better than wondering where your next meal was coming from.

On the Jeanneau, an offshore cruiser Edsel had pretty much picked at random as he knew nothing at all about boats, the accommodation was quite luxurious, and even though it was Edsel that had used the boat the most, Lash and Aiden made themselves at home and familiarized themselves with the space again quickly in the days leading up to the trip. So once they boarded, and Edsel checked over everything, it was time to go within less than half an hour.

As Edsel pulled away from the shore of their private island he looked across to Lash and smiled reassuringly.

She's thinking the same thing as me: will we ever come home? Will life ever be as peaceful and stress-free again? Will we remain a family?

"You okay? It'll be all right, just a bit of fun, like going back in time."

"I'm okay. I miss it already though. It's been a great few years Edsel, just us, nothing to worry about apart from what generation Martha we are up to and if the beetroot will grow this year. I can't help but feel like it's all over now."

"We can always just stay, you know?"

"Haha, try telling that to Aiden. Look at him." Lash stared out of the cabin window at Aiden standing at the bow clutching the rail, staring out to sea practically willing the boat to move faster and get them to the mainland.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. But what else can we do? We may be happy but it's not fair on Aiden to keep him locked away from the world is it? He has to get out and do things, have adventures now he's old enough. And I don't know about you but I can't imagine just staying at home and letting him go off on his own. Can you?"

"What? No way. I'd be a nervous wreck in less than a day. I have to admit, I do kind of feel like a proper mum, you know? Even though he'd already lost his family I really feel like we are his family. I'm his mum, which I could be, just."

"Just about, yeah. I'm not old enough to be his real dad but I still feel like I am, sort of. I guess I think of him as my best friend, just like you, but with the added parental responsibility. So we have to let him spread his wings. Anyway, he honestly might hate it. I can't see what there is that will make him want to stay in towns really. Five years is a long time, I very much doubt anything will have got better."

"Well, you never know. And don't tell Aiden but I am quite looking forward to doing something different for a while. As long as we come home," added Lash hurriedly.

Let's pray that we do.

LAND

The sea was like glass: still and bright as the sun climbed higher in the sky. Edsel found it hard to make his mood match the perfect day. Just knowing he was approaching the mainland brought buried emotions and memories bubbling to the surface — everything revolved around The Ink.

A heaviness settled over Edsel, like he'd sunk to the bottom of the ocean and the weight of the world was bearing down on him, threatening to crush the happiness he'd finally accepted as the reality he now enjoyed.