INK: Red (INK Trilogy Book 1) (8 page)

There was nothing of use in any of the stores, so they kept on going. The shopping center had a simple cross layout with various outlets on each side of the large walkways. They'd already checked over half of them and Edsel was getting itchy. They'd find them soon enough.

They stopped outside an electrical outlet, ripped signs and posters still visible, advertising the latest laptops and mobile devices.

"Guess you never did any of that?" said Edsel, pointing at the advertisements.

"Use computers?"

"Yeah, and you know, talk to your mates on a phone. Text, go on Facebook, all that stuff?"

"No, not really. I kind of remember learning to use a computer a little bit, but not really. Then it all broke, but my dad told me about it. He said that it may have been the one good thing that came from The Lethargy — at least people wouldn't spend their lives in front of a screen any more."

"Yeah, well, he may have been right on that score, but it was fun though. Come on, let's check it out, but quickly."

I miss the Web.

There were countless smashed gadgets and even a few TVs left. What were prized items for the first looters soon became worthless once people realized the power was sporadic, then no longer worked at all. Edsel wasn't sure what he was looking for but felt that something would be of use. They wandered into the back, to the storage areas, and it was pretty much the same: in total disarray and mostly empty of goods, or else what was left was smashed. He found a spool of three core cable though and stuffed it into his backpack, before calling Aiden that it was time to go.

Maybe I'll just hang myself and have done with it all. Joke, Aiden, in case you are hearing this.

Edsel was feeling another wave of more intense pain creeping up from his toes right to his upper chest where The Ink stopped. His arms were on fire and when he rolled up his sleeves to look at them he could swear that they were turning a brighter shade of red. The scabs were getting really dry too, which meant that they were splitting more and more, the itching so intense he had to use all his willpower to not scratch away like a bear at a tree. In between the scabs, where the raw-to-the-touch skin wasn't all bumpy and rough, large bubbles were popping up, like the top layer of skin was trying to get away from the poison infecting his body. He couldn't blame it really. It had been happening all over, and he'd lost count of the number of 'pops' he'd felt as they released a foul liquid that soaked his clothes and somehow left a strange metallic taste in his mouth.

Boots. Yes. Where's Boots.

Boots the pharmacy, on every single high street in the UK, sold all manner of perfumes, potions, lotions and over the counter as well as prescription medications. Maybe he'd strike it lucky and get something to ease the incessant itching at least, moisten his skin so the scabs healed quicker.

"You know where Boots is?"

"Boots? Sure, I'll show you."

~~~

"Goddamn!" Edsel kicked at the boxes of tissues, smashed bottles of cough mixture and mounds of toothpaste that littered the floor.

Shopping sucks. It sucked before and it still sucks now.

"Hey, all of this is good stuff. You have to brush your teeth you know?"

The kid's right, I'm just getting moody with the pain.

"Sorry, you're right. Gather up some soap and tissues and see if there are any flannels, all that stuff." Edsel wasn't thinking straight. Simple things like soap and being able to brush your teeth were part of what made things feel even just a little bit normal; the kid was smart. It could take days, weeks, before he got his revenge, although he hadn't actually thought past the next few minutes for so long that he hadn't considered basic necessities. Apart from food.

His stomach rumbled in reply.

I could eat that damn toothpaste I'm so hungry. I thought the sandwich would have helped more.

He left Aiden to it and went hunting, constantly aware of the time it was all taking. When had they left his house? It was half six or so, so it couldn't be more than a few hours later. He'd ask the kid in a minute.

Gold! I've struck gold. Yes!

Tubes of aloe vera fell off the shelf as he tried to turn a box around to see if it had any left. He popped the cap on the flexible tube, rolled up his sleeve and carefully rubbed the gel over his hard, scabbed-over skin. Flakes fell to the floor but the effect was instant. The itching receded in seconds, not gone, but not eye-gougingly irritating either. He pulled both sleeves up as far as he could until the bunched up material hurt his arms too much, and smeared the gel over his skin. It shone like glazed meat, and looked like a suckling pig he'd once roasted over an open fire.

Aah, bliss.

It cooled him down, he could feel the difference for sure, and it should begin to kick in properly soon. Stuffing as many tubes as he could find into his backpack he went to get Aiden. He was starting to get claustrophobic and the air seemed to be getting stuffier as the day wore on. It must be warming up outside, although it was still a bit early, even if it was going to be a nice day.

Nice day? Don't think so dude. Warm means sweat, which means hurt. And they are after you. Aiden too now.

"Hey buddy, got what we need?"

"I think so. What about you?"

"Yep. What's the time?"

Aiden checked his watch. "Half past three."

"What? No, seriously, what time is it?"

Aiden looked at him, confused. "Half three."

"It can't be. We've only been here an hour or so, if that. Let me see."

He turned Aiden's wrist and looked at the digital readout.

Damn. What the hell is going on?

"You sure that's right? It can't be that late."

Aiden looked at him worriedly.

"What?" Edsel knew he wasn't going to like whatever it was Aiden was going to tell him.

"You kept blacking out, falling over. We had to keep resting."

"When? Where?" He didn't remember that at all.

"Here, in the shopping center. You had the sandwich, remember? Then you passed out. You were out for ages, I didn't know what to do. Then you came-to like nothing had happened. You did it a few times. I thought at first you had The Lethargy, so I, um, peeked, and you didn't."

"You sure? About the blacking out I mean? I don't have the Lethargy, do I?"

"Yep."

Edsel went cold.

"I mean, yep about the blacking out, not about The Lethargy. Sorry."

"Phew. Okay, good, I don't remember. It's The Ink probably, my body reacting to it, and the damn poison they put in it. Goddamn freaks."

"Just from tattooing your arms?"

Best the kid knows, so he understands how dangerous they are.

He lifted up his sweater, pulled up a trouser leg, turned slowly in a circle.

"Oh! Does it really hurt?"

"Like a mother— Yes, a lot. I got some gel though, we need to go. If I'm blacking out then we need to find somewhere safe, especially if that's the time."

"I know where to go." Aiden brightened, grabbed Edsel by the arm excitedly and said, "Follow me," before pulling him along, getting ready to speed up.

Edsel's world turned into white-hot pain, flesh being stripped from the bone by an expert butcher.

"Ow ow ow. Aargh, leggo, leggo. Shit." Edsel stared in horror at his arm, the moist flesh peeling away in places as easily as slow cooked meat sliding off the bone because of the grip of the boy's hand. Tiny beads of blood pricked to the surface until soon it was nothing but red on red.

Aiden went whiter than his already pale skin. "Oh no! Sorry, sorry. I forgot. Sorry."

"It's... okay. I think. Come on, lead the way. No grabbing though." Edsel was amazed he didn't black out, but for all he knew he had — there was no memory of him collapsing since they left the boy's house, he obviously wasn't anywhere near to being himself.

Keep it together, just stay focused. Don't think about the pain, don't look at your arms, and for god's sake don't scratch.

Edsel's arm where Aiden had grabbed it was screaming at him, the raw flesh was already chafing horribly against the sweater, but it was better covered than for him to have to stare at it.

It would be better to just chop it off; it wouldn't, couldn't hurt as much as this.

They moved as fast as they could, heading toward one of the exits. Edsel didn't know why, but he trusted Aiden knew somewhere good to lay low — he seemed to be very confident for such a young boy.

It's being Awoken, he sees things I don't, knows things about it I don't.

"Wait, just a minute." Edsel ran into a WH Smiths and came back out a minute later, stuffing a spiral-bound map into his now bulging backpack. "Okay, lead the way Superman. You've heard of him, right?"

"Duh. Everyone knows about Superman."

"Right, sorry."

Cheeky bugger.

"Who, me?" said Aiden, obviously still listening in now and then.

Edsel couldn't help but smile.

DEEP

"What is this place?"

"It's part of the railway. I never went on a train though, not a moving one anyway. But it's safe, it's hard to find people in The Noise through all the concrete. It needs to be all around you to hide you, so I thought this would be a good idea."

Smart kid.

"Nice thinking dude, good job."

It was a vast tunnel, absolutely huge. Part of the massive rejuvenation project where networks of underground trains were to revolutionize travel around not only the city itself but would link up with high speed above ground railways from both the north and south of the country — bringing life and commerce back to the north. Much of the preliminary work for the network had been completed, but as The Lethargy took hold it all came to a total standstill — it would never be finished now.

This place is incredible, amazing what people could do. How come we all reverted to animals so quickly when we had it in us to be so much more?

They'd moved fast across just a few streets, praying that they wouldn't be seen or sensed if there were any Awoken in the area, then it was down shiny steps that never saw the footsteps of the millions of passengers that were expected. Once past the unfinished ticket booths and spaces for the obligatory concession stands and ever-present brand coffee shops, they came to a huge escalator with the wrapping still on, eerie with its lack of movement. They moved deeper and deeper into the unfinished, still raw tunnels until they were in the huge empty space that was to be Manchester's pride and glory, only it wasn't. Rails weren't laid, trains never ran, and for a short while it had become a refuge for those who found life above ground too dangerous. There was a sense of peace and safety, and the clever natural lighting system by a series of reflective devices meant the main areas and platforms were perfect for those trying to escape the madness above.

Most died eventually, hiding away, hoping life would somehow get better.

"Time?"

"Half four now."

"Okay, listen, we need to talk and I need you to listen. I have to take my clothes off and smear this gel on. It ain't going to be pretty but I could really do with a little help. Just on my back, if you don't mind. This Ink is killing me, I feel like a crispy duck I'm so frazzled. And we have to get food. I don't know about you but I'm totally famished. I had a load back at my house, but there wasn't any time. We'll have to move again soon, get food from somewhere, if you're up for it?"

"I'm up for it," smiled Aiden. "How bad are the tattoos? My dad told me about what The Eventuals do, they want all people to die, right?"

"Yeah, their leader — Varik, he set it up, it got out of hand really quickly. Anyway, he, they, all of them, believe that The Lethargy was like a message from God or something, that people need to become extinct. So they try to convert you, and if they can't then they kill you. They think nature should rule, and anything man-made is blasphemous and wrong. It's mostly full of suicidal people that have lost everything, or those that are so scared of getting The Lethargy that it all just kind of makes sense to them."

"But why are they all red? Why did they do it to you?"

"Because their leader got burned in a horrible fire, so the story goes, so they do it to show their commitment, and they see it as a way to strip their identity, the same as they aren't allowed to keep their names, just have a random set of letters assigned to them. They're bonkers in other words."

Aiden looked worried. "So you were joining them? You went to get The Ink?"

"No, they caught me and forced me; I had no choice. I'd had a bad time a few years back, met what turned out to be one of the Bishops. He spotted me, or maybe had been keeping tabs on me, I don't know. All I do know is that when I was actually happy they took it all away from me and killed Kathy. For that they have to pay."

And they will, they'll pay alright. I would have just run, left with Kathy, but not now.

It was warm in the tunnel, the huge vaulted ceiling, still just rough concrete shuttering, ensured it stayed a pretty constant temperature. Even the slight breeze was warm. Edsel would be glad to get his clothes off and let the gel work its magic.

"Okay, turn the other way if you like. I have to strip off. I'll tell you when to look, so you can do my back. Sorry, be warned, it's gonna be gross."

This is gonna freak him out big time... me too. Ugh, here goes nothing.

Aiden turned away and began rearranging the items from his backpack he'd got from the pharmacy. He hummed to himself while he did it, probably to drown out the moans and gasps of Edsel as he stripped off.

Edsel took his boots off first, then began to peel a sock away. The first pair came off fine, then it was time for the ones that actually made contact with his damaged flesh. He felt like all he did was put clothes on then take them off lately — each time more painful than the last. The sock was sticky with blood and some kind of secretion, and as he peeled it down he could see scabs and raw flesh. Then the sock stuck. He pulled, wincing and gritting his teeth, trying not to cry out as it finally came free.