The Dawn: The Bombs Fall (A Dystopian Science Fiction Series) (5 page)

Do you wake up in the morning feeling
negative and tired? Do you crave sleep when you have just woken up? Does your
skin look grey, even when you have just finished bathing? You could be
suffering from a low blood count. Now, at the special price of only one hundred
and twenty credits......

The same voice over and over all day
long. It was the same advert. He had heard it three times already this morning.
Zack was getting to the point where he was beginning to wonder if his skin
really was that grey, or if he was just being programmed to believe it to be. He
turned over on the flimsy metal bed that reminded him of a Victorian hospital,
the mattress and springs creaking under the shift in weight. Leonard had
already fallen asleep when Zack got back from the bar last night, so he had
discarded the pillow at the side of the door. At least he thought he had been
asleep. He couldn't really remember. He pulled his own pillow over his face. It
was too thin and old to be deemed comfortable, and it had an aroma that was
something like morning breath mixed with dust. He sandwiched his fists against
his ears, muffling the sounds of life in Delta Tower.

Register now for your chance to wake
up feeling fresher, revitalised, with a whole new perspective on life. Say
goodbye to the early morning blues. The Omega Transfusion can give you a new
outlook and a fresh start. Start feeling like your Omega-self today.

Zack scrunched his eyes tighter than
his fists at the sides of his head. He sucked in the smell of the dusty pillow.
He started humming in an effort to stifle the sounds as they played out in the
corridor, those that offered the chance of another reality that he wasn't a
part of.

“Fuck you, Omega,” he screamed into
the pillow, before coughing up the dust that was settling at the back of his
throat. Even the thought of the words scrolling along the bottom of the screen,
Blood taken only from Omega Tower Citizens
, was enough to piss him off. He
pulled the pillow from his face, tossed it across the room, the corner of it
landing in his water bucket. As if having the blood of somebody from Omega
running through his veins would give him a glimpse of The Omega Life, or make
him start feeling like his Omega-self, whatever that was.
Human, maybe
, he
mused.

Do you wake up itching first thing in
the morning? Do you suffer with red patches on your wrists or armpits? You
could be suffering from scabies. Be a responsible citizen of New Omega and STOP
the scabies mite now! Your tower is your responsibility. For only eighty
credits you can be treated quickly and effectively and your pain and itching
can be eradicated. Treatment is available now in your tower.

Zack tossed left and right, a scream
bubbling just underneath the surface like the growl of a lion. Was there was no
drowning it out? He would have found the eighty credits, damn it, even the one
hundred and twenty if paying it would stop the adverts. He always felt like
this after one of Ronson's concoctions. Why did he never learn? He shot up from
the bed like one of the old springs of the mattress had finally broken free,
his head pounding.

“I haven’t got it!” he yelled at
nobody. “I haven’t got scabies. I haven’t got.....” He was interrupted by the
knocking of his door. He opened it to see Leonard standing on the other side in
the same clothes he was in the night before, just like Zack was wearing, and
just like every other citizen of Delta Tower. There was a small group of
children playing musical rags in the corridor, only it was without the music
because none of the children were old enough to know what real music sounded
like. In its place they sang the perma-happy jingles from the adverts as if
they too were conspiring with Omega Tower to get you to work harder for extra
credits.
Brainwashing
, Zack thought.

 “So, you haven’t got scabies. I
think the whole of level thirty knows that now.” Leonard was smiling, an
impulse of anticipation running through him. “But you do look terrible,” he
said as he began inspecting Zack's face, even raising a thumb up to his cheek
and pulling down on it so that he could see the inside of his eye socket. “Didn’t
you sleep last.....” He stopped talking as his eyes fell on the pillow that
Zack had discarded by the door. “Is that it? Is that for me?” Leonard didn’t
wait for a reply and instead crouched down, one hand on his knee for support,
and scooped up the cushion as if he was picking up a newborn baby.

“Yeah, that’s it,” said Zack, calming
down thanks to the distraction of conversation. “Told you I would get it. You
were asleep when I got back. I could hear you snoring.” This was a lie, but it
could have been true. The dust in Delta irritated Leonard's nose and not many sleeps
passed without Zack being disturbed by Leonard's breathing.

Leonard caressed and squeezed the
pillow with his crooked fingers, oblivious to the marks and stains on the cover
which no doubt penetrated all the way through. He folded it over double and
with both hands brought it up to his ear, tipping his head lopsided to meet it.
Without another word Leonard began hobbling out of Zack’s room and into his own,
where he placed the pillow on top of another one, equally thin and stained, and
he swung his feet up onto the bed. Zack followed him to the door. It was hard
not to feel sad that such a small and pathetic offering could instil such contentment,
but Leonard’s feelings were genuine. Contentedness was a hard emotion to evoke
in Delta Tower. He imagined, in any of the towers. Perhaps with the exception
of Omega, where no doubt everybody always felt like their Omega-self.

“Are you sure you didn’t get in
trouble for this?” Zack shook his head. “It’s wonderful. Tonight I’ll be able
to sleep and tomorrow I’ll be able to meet my quota, save up my credits.”

“It was no problem,” Zack said,
feeling pleased at the positivity that his actions had created. He had made
somebody happy. He had made somebody's life easier. If only he had learnt to do
that before the bombs came. “Plus, I got a little something for my efforts.” Leonard
sat up, looked at Zack as if he were looking over an invisible pair of glasses
perched on the tip of his nose.

“You ought to stay away from that
stuff they concoct down there. Go down, do your business, and get out. You
don’t know what they're cooking up.”

“An escape, my friend,” said Zack as
he pushed Leonard aside and tested out the pillows. He pursed his lips in
experimental appreciation. “Not bad. Not bad.” He sat back up, both of them on
the edge of the bed like a couple of nervous teenagers. “Don’t worry about me,
Leo. I’m alright.”

“You won’t be if you take that junk.”
Leonard shook his head left to right, disappointed that it was his request that
had sent him down there. “At least I know why you look so rough today.”

“I always look this rough,” Zack said
standing up. “Shall we?” Zack pulled Leonard's ration card from the wall-mounted
box and handed it to him as they left the room.

After Zack had retrieved his own
card, he and Leonard walked along the corridors to the Food Hall. There were
three Food Halls in Delta tower. One on fifth, which was only for the Guardians.
They were the people who worked for the
Department for Behavioural
Regulation and Order
, and they supposedly protected the tower and kept
order. There were stories of improved rations, better food, and you only had to
look one of the Guardians to know it was true. Fifth floor was like their
epicentre, as legendary and elusive as the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. There
was no other place in Delta Tower where you would find a higher concentration
of Guardians all in one place, or so he had heard. You couldn't even get
through the doors of fifth floor, and the lift needed a key in order to select
that destination. There was another on the upper floors, forty seventh Zack
thought, where nobody bothered to go if they didn't have to. The other was on
twenty fifth, the place that Zack and Leonard ate.

“You do know they have announced
another lottery, don’t you?” Leonard said, breaking the silence as they pushed
open the doors to the Food Hall. The noise hit Zack like a mallet right between
the eyes. His head was throbbing and he needed water. Stat.

“No,” Zack said, his head shooting
round, his eyes following shortly afterwards. His brain felt like it was
grating against his skull. Whatever was in that tablet, or the Moonshine, had
left him feeling like utter shit. He had obviously missed the news about the
lottery in the same way he had missed the first bell. But with the thought of
another lottery it was impossible not to allow the mind to wander into the
realm of fantasy. Just imagine the outcome if his number, eight thousand six
hundred and fifty two, was the number drawn. Without thinking, the thumb from
his right hand reached over and worked its way over the black numbers and
triangle tattooed onto his left wrist.

“Yeah. It was announced last night. I'm
surprised that you didn't hear anything about it on your way back upstairs.”

“I was pretty wasted,” Zack admitted.
Leonard shook his head again. “When will it be?” He looked around the Food Hall
at the people waiting in line. At first he had thought his headache responsible
for his intolerance of the noise, but on second glance he could see that there
was a buzz about the place. A new Omega Lottery always did this to people. It
stirred them up, gave them a new topic, a new hope. It was the Cinderella tale
that everybody hoped would be theirs.

“They just announced soon.” The
excitement on Leonard's face had been replaced by a hint of something from the
past. Disappointment. Zack could detect it well. It was the last emotion he
took with him from the old world. “You know, that stuff has really started
messing with your brain, Zachary. What am I going to tell you? Next Saturday? What
day do you think it is today? Neither of us have a clue what day it is so how
would they be able to announce when it will be?” Zack couldn't bring himself to
agree, even though he knew Leonard was right. He reached over and picked up a food
tray, hoping that eating would help his hangover.

The time between now and the lottery
would be different to normal. People would be talkative, interested in their
neighbour all of a sudden. There would be sporadic outbreaks of fighting and
arguments over items like water, food, or clothing. People no longer knew how
to manage how they felt, because they had got so used to not feeling anything
positive that when you threw excitement and hope into the mix it disrupted the
balance. With the lottery happening, people would be bombarded by emotions
which they had buried. The realisation of what their lives had become would surface.
Like oil on water. A new lottery disturbs their ability for acceptance. They
realise for one person there will be another future. That it could be them. That
there might be something left worth fighting for, even if the battle is out of
their hands. Zack wondered if Leonard knew that he wasn’t eligible on account
of his age. Perhaps he was just playing along, like with a television game show
at home with no chance at the cash prize.

“Your tray,” said the server. Zack
handed it over, chipped and worn and only just about serviceable. Into it the
server placed a ladle of porridge, salt and sugar free Zack assumed, if his
memory of those tastes served him well. There was a small square of bread that
tasted like half-baked dough and was always flat and unleavened. Leonard was
ahead, already sitting at one of the tables. Zack walked over, acknowledging a
few familiar faces as he did.

“There is no point in this lottery
anyway. I’m not saying that it’s not a nice idea,” Zack said as he sat down
next to Leonard. “But tell me. How does the Omega Lottery help?” The adverts
were streaming in over the hum of the crowd. The television was louder today,
no doubt turned up to account for the extra excitement. This one was
advertising better-quality antibiotics. Zack took a mouthful of tasteless
porridge. “When it's over we’ll all feel like shit again because we all lost
another chance. I've told you before, nobody ever wins from Delta.”

“But just think of the person who
does win,” Leonard mused, his eyes glazing over as he stared ahead, lost in a
dream. The call of hunger lured him back, and he picked up his spoon and
shovelled the porridge into his mouth. “Imagine a different life. Haven’t you
seen the lobby of Omega? They still have the trees. They play a new sky program
over there now, projected onto the windows. You see daylight all day long. Until
you
choose to turn it off. It's as if there is life beyond the walls.”

“It’s not real daylight,” Zack
replied, more cynically than intended. He could imagine it all right. He had
seen the adverts, and he knew what it looked like. Compared to where he lived
now, it looked like heaven. It hurt to think of it. It made reality worse. More
real.

“I know it’s not real daylight,”
Leonard said, undisturbed, his spirit unimpeded. “But it’s a start. Imagine not
having to look at that all day long.” Leonard motioned his spoon towards the
window and Zack’s eyes followed his hand. The grey clouds hung as low as ever,
the buildings sat desolate, destroyed, and empty of life. Most of them had been
razed from the soil. Only the distant towers of Gamma, Theta, and Zeta were
visible from here. Zeta had to be over two miles away. Their nearest neighbour.
From the Food Hall on level twenty five they couldn't see Omega at all.