Shadow Reaper (Shadowlands Series) (2 page)

Once upon a time, there’d been sunshine and clouds and green and blue and swings and ice cream. Now they lived off what they could scavenge from the altered world topside and what they could grow under UV lamps. The human population was a fifth of what it had once been. Cut off from one another, they lived day to day in organised pockets of civilisation, underground like vermin while the invaders ruled topside. Radio contact had been established ten years ago, but there had been no contact for the past five years. No one wanted to say it, but everyone thought it: the other pockets were gone. Yeah, his world was messed up.

He hated it and yet he loved it, because he had Blake to share it with.

“How is she?” Blake asked.

Clay smiled into the dark. Since he’d moved in two months ago, not a night had gone by that Blake hadn’t waited up for him. Maintenance meant that, all in all, Clay had pretty regular hours. Blake’s role wasn’t so kind. The Eye was their last line of defence, and the first line of offense. It allowed them to watch over the Reapers when they went over the Horizon. Everything had to be perfect, and that responsibility rested fully on Blake’s shoulders. The Eye was Blake’s father’s creation, and since he had succumbed to a degenerative disease a year ago, it had become Blake’s.

The bed shifted as Blake rolled to face him. “You okay, babe?”

Clay rolled onto his side to face Blake. Their noses were so close, he could have leaned in and brushed them together. Blake’s dark hair fell across his forehead, and Clay reached out to smooth it back. Unlike Blake, Clay liked to keep his golden locks shorn short so it created soft fuzz on his head. Blake said it brought out Clay’s jade eyes.

“Clay?”

Clay smiled. “I’m okay and Ash is fine. Stubborn, but fine.”

Blake chuckled. “Takes after her big brother, then.”

“Hey! I’m not stubborn.”

Blake brushed noses with him. “Yes you are, but I love you for it.” He reached up and caressed Clay’s jaw. “I saw the sun today.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. The clouds shifted and it lanced through . . . just for a moment, but it was . . . beautiful.”

“I wish I’d seen it.”

“Me too.” He yawned and Clay felt terrible for making him wait up.

“Get some sleep, babe.” Clay pulled the covers up over them both.

“Sleep? Really?”

He could hear the wicked grin in Blake’s voice. It sent a pulse of arousal through him and, like usual, his throat was suddenly dry.

Blake leaned in and captured his lips in a soft kiss.

There wouldn’t be any sleeping for a long time.

I was hurtling down the winding corridors toward the Eye when I was knocked into the wall by a whirlwind coming down an intersecting corridor to my left.

“Dammit, Ryder!”

Ryder smirked and hauled me to my feet. “You’ll live, tough cookie like you.”

“Shut up.” But I couldn’t help smiling because he was so damn cute when he flashed those dimples of his.

He winked and my heart did that weird squeeze thing. Man, I’d had a crush on this bloke ever since I’d moved into Shelter, but to Ryder, I was just the girl who could scrap like a man. I guess I didn’t do myself any favours with my uniform of vests and trousers, and long hair perpetually scraped back in a ponytail, but that’s me. I liked to be comfortable. Besides, I wanted someone to fancy me for me, although I couldn’t help but fantasise about Ryder looking at me one day and being like, “Wow, you are seriously gorgeous!”

Ryder was already stalking off toward the Eye, so I had to jog to catch up. “So, what do you think we’ll find today?”

He shrugged. “More useless crap that’ll be recycled into more useless crap.”

I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, Ryder, we need to hit the chemists and supermarkets.”

“There’s nothing left, you know that. Those fucking Shadowlanders cleaned them out. Not sure what they want with the medicines, probably just hoarding it until we all die.” There was real bitterness in his tone. Like most of us, he’d lost someone special. His brother died of a basic infection, which could have been cured with antibiotics. We’d run out, so that was that. Here, in the slums, if you got sick, you most likely died. Simple.

We made the rest of the journey in silence. Shelter is an underground bunker, built for an apocalypse, and it’s served us well, but resources are limited and only those with skills, able to contribute to the survival of the human race get entry. As far as we knew it, the human population in our pocket of reality, since the invasion almost twenty years ago, was around two thousand, five hundred of whom lived in Shelter. The rest lived outside in the slums, or there were those desperate enough to have crossed the Horizon into the Shadowlands. I’d no idea what happened to those poor souls, and I didn’t want to know. We stuck to the cusp of the Shadowlands, never venturing too far in. They had our houses, our hospitals, our rivers, and our bridges; they had it all. We existed in a pocket of our reality, untouched and surrounded by the Horizon. I wished there was some way of reestablishing contact with the other pockets, of knowing that there were still others out there and that one day we would somehow unite and take back our world.

I liked to dream.

We were almost at the Eye when I heard the chanting.

“Fuck!” Ryder clenched and pressed himself back against the wall.

I did the same.

The chanting grew louder, and then they appeared around the bend. Twelve hooded figures, their robes of the deepest crimson, threadbare in places but thick enough to withstand a few hundred washes.

They were led by Mother Barbara. She inclined her head in our direction as she passed but didn’t falter in her chanting. The others followed, their eyes on the ground, hoods up to obscure their faces.

We waited until they vanished around the corner, and then Ryder pushed off the wall.

“Seriously!”

“Ryder!” I was shocked by his increasingly hostile attitude toward the The Order of the Mother. She did, after all, save humanity by bringing us to Shelter, rescuing us from the Shadowlanders hungry for our flesh. Not Barbara, herself, but the real Mother; the robed figure that had appeared in the midst of the chaos and led those of us who would heed her to safety. Well, that’s what the stories said, of course, and there were plenty alive who could attest to their truth.

Barbara, however, was special because the Mother had spoken to her, giving her the Word. It was the Word that ruled us. It was the Word we lived by.

“Fucking bollocks if you ask me,” Ryder muttered.

We passed the dining hall and walked up to the doors leading that opened to the steps that led to the Eye.

I didn’t need to ask what he was on about. I knew he thought the Word was crap made up by the Mother to keep us locked in our little pocket of reality. Ryder believed that the Mother was one of
them
, and we were just cattle that had been rounded up for later consumption. Sometimes I wondered if he was right, if we were all gullible fools waiting to be picked off at the Shadowlander’s leisure.

We climbed the metal staircase leading to the Eye. A short platform ended at a door, and we pushed through to find the others waiting.

Bernadette rolled her eyes and tapped her wrist. She wasn’t wearing a watch, but she was the Anchor, the time keeper, so I guess it counted. She was already suited up and ready to go. A head taller than Ryder and pure muscle, Bernadette was a force to be reckoned with.

Fred and George were buckling on their harnesses. Both were wiry, dark-haired, with brown eyes, and were often mistaken for siblings, much to George’s exasperation. Fred was the only person I knew that could piss George off without even trying.

I quickly joined Ryder in grabbing mine and slipping it over my black, long sleeved T-shirt. I made sure the buckles were super tight. We hadn’t lost a Reaper yet, and I wasn’t about to be the first. I pulled out the earpiece tucked into the pocket and slipped it on. It contained a shortwave radio that allowed the team to stay in contact when we were over the Horizon. It didn’t help with communication to the Eye, though; when we were out there, we were alone.

“You’re good to go,” Blake said from his position at the Eye.

Screen upon screen of grainy footage from above lay before him. He scanned it all expertly, spotting trouble spots, threats . . .
them
.

He looked tired. I wanted to give him a hug, but here, in the Eye, he was the boss. I could see the Horizon on more than one of those screens, shimmering and glorious, the only bright spot in this otherwise grey world. My body ached for it, and I shivered in anticipation of the crossing.

Ryder shoved my gun into my hand. “It’s charged.”

“Thanks.” I slipped it into the harness at my waist and hoped I didn’t have to use it. Ryder handed me a backpack.

“What, are you her bitch now?” Fred said.

Ryder shot him a lethal glare.

Fred was a dick, plain and simple, but he was a damn good Reaper, which was the only reason I hadn’t knocked out his teeth yet. Although . . . did he really need his teeth to reap?

I opened up my backpack to check on Baby. She was tucked up snugly in her holster. I’d found her on my first trip into the Cusp, and Clay had customised her to act like a long-range stun gun. I hadn’t used her yet. I was saving her for a special occasion.

“All set, let’s move out,” George said. Forever the peacemaker, the voice of reason, and a truly stand-up guy. I could imagine that being etched on his gravestone, not that we had those anymore. Cremation was easier, cleaner. Less chance of disease that way.

We entered the hatch that led to the surface and began to climb. Fred first, then George, Ryder, me, then Bernadette made up the rear. The whirr of the lock disengaging was followed by a gust of air so sweet that it made my head spin.

It was their air, contaminating ours, seductive and alluring. I shook my head and took Ryder’s hand as he hauled me out of the hatch. My boots touched earth, and I allowed myself a moment to take it in—the greys, browns, and blacks—the heavy dark sky and the shimmering veil less than a mile ahead of us.

We set off.

“East quarter, people,” George said. “Been a while since we tapped it. Could have missed something.”

“Hardly!” Fred said. “We’ve picked the shit outta the Cusp. We need to go farther.”

He was right; we all knew it, and no one argued.

Bernadette was the first to break the thoughtful silence. “I spoke to Finn about it. He agrees.”

My eyes widened in surprise. Finn was one of the senior members of the council. He was older than us all by about ten years and totally aloof and unapproachable.

“You spoke to Finn? How? When?”

Bernadette snorted. “With my mouth, and just after we finished fucking for the third time.”

Wow! What the hell could I say to that?

Ryder chuckled. “You got balls, Bernadette, I give you that.”

Bernadette slanted a look in his direction. “Guys are predictable, and we needed someone on the council to listen. Now we got that ear, we should see some action. Looks like Blake’s been keeping secrets too. Finn had no idea about the rise in critter activity.”

I shuddered. Yep, those suckers were disgusting, all shapes and sizes with only one thing in common: being insectlike. As if summoned by my thought, skitters filled the air to my left.

“Aw, shit,” Ryder said.

We pulled out our batons and flicked the switch to light them up. Something dark flew at my head, and I brought my baton up to thwack it, but Ryder got there first, shooting me a cheeky grin over his shoulder.

My hero.

Bernadette cursed as she stomped on something over and over. “Why. Won’t. You. Die!”

Fred laughed and joined her, zapping the critter with his baton. The thing shuddered and lay still. Twelve legs; that was a first.

Fred was waving his baton in Bernadette’s face. “Use your baton, that’s what it’s for.”

Stupid idiot, he’d obviously forgotten who he was speaking to.

Bernadette grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up into the air.

Fred’s eyes went saucer-wide. Yep, he remembered now.

“I was saving the charge, you twat,” she said and then dropped him on the critter.

Fred squealed as Ryder laughed.

I scanned the earth around us, fractured and dead and empty. No critters, just broken buildings, rusted vehicles, and memories of a lost time.

“Come on, we got work to do.”

***

We were up close and personal with the Horizon. It rose up into the sky like a wall of static. In the early days, we’d tried to send planes over the top, but none had returned. There’d been speculation; was it a force field of some kind, some sort of alien technology? Was it a portal to another dimension? So many theories and no time to figure it out because
they
had swept in, killing, raping, taking. What was left of the government had fallen. It became each man for himself.

I didn’t remember any of this, I was just a baby, but Dad told the story so many times throughout our childhood that sometimes I felt like I’d been there, like I did see it happen. He told us about the Mother sweeping in and leading so many away. He told us how Mum and he hid from her, afraid that it was a trick. The Mother was one of them, why would she help us? He told us how the Shadowlanders that looked like us had left then, and how what was left of humanity waited for them to return, but they never had. Instead, we were left here to rot, to starve, to fight among ourselves for the last scrap of food. By the time Mum and Dad realised that there was a Shelter, the only way to gain admittance was to enlist as a Reaper. Neither was willing to let the other take the risk, and so we lived like animals.

“Ashling!” Bernadette tapped the port on her suit.

I tore my eyes away from the barrier that kept us prisoner in our own world and unzipped the pocket at the side of my harness. I grabbed the line tucked inside and pulled. I passed her the end and she screwed my line into the port on her suit and then nodded.

It was a primitive setup. Just ropes really, attached to someone who would stay behind as an Anchor. Bernadette was the obvious choice. No one questioned it, because we all wanted to live, and we knew Bernadette would haul us back. She had help—the winch. It was a mechanical contraption that could haul a Reaper back at super speed. All a Reaper needed to do was give her the distress signal, and all Bernadette needed to do was attach the rope to the machine and hit a button.