Dark Powers Rising: Chapter 1

In the Winter of 2081 society has collapsed. Disease, famine, and war have brought Mankind to its knees. The old order is destroyed, a new one is forming, and dark powers are rising.

Reposting due to merging newsletters - apologies if you’ve already read it.

Chapter One

WINTER 2081

The child’s face was hidden, pressed into the soft wool of his mother’s jumper, his fingers grasping her blonde and curling hair. She leaned back against the sofa, legs blanketed against the cold, mouth agape. A column of dust-ridden light fell through the half-drawn curtains playing on the child’s curls. Edie watched, waiting for movement. It was a pointless hope; the only breath in the room was her own.

Another family that hadn’t joined the evacuation. Another house off limits.

She murmured her father’s prayer. “Rest in peace beloved, where pain and suffering cannot reach you.”  The words were muffled through the cloth that covered her nose and mouth. As she pulled the door to, the stench of decay lingered.

Stepping outside, keeping close to the wall, she pulled the cloth from her face and took a deep, cold, and cleansing breath. It was a welcome relief from the stagnant and polluted air inside.

Her gut twisted. If they knew she was this deep inside the town there would be hell to pay. ‘We’re the lucky ones,’ they said. The survivors, immune from the plague that had stripped the world clean of life, but the towns still festered with disease and the Others who preyed on the living. How many times had she heard her father warn ‘If the plague doesn’t kill you, the survivors will’?

The sun sat low but bright above the land, the backlight to billowing orange clouds, fronted by shifting greys spreading across the horizon. She pulled back the top of a worn leather glove and read her watch: 3.55pm. Her heart made a quick and heavy beat against her chest. She had left it late today and dark would fall before she could return to the compound. Shifting the heavy rucksack, she stepped out from the wall’s growing shadow and checked up and down the road.

In the failing light, the trees stood black and stark against an endless line of red-bricked houses. A smoke-grey cat, tipped white at ears and tail, sauntered across the empty road—the only sign of life on this stretch.

Head down, collar pulled up against the cold, white breath billowing, she walked until the street opened out to an expanse of parkland; the silhouettes of a hundred trees and their thousand branches stood in relief against a soft apricot haze. Her watch read 4.25 pm and the queasy ache of fear squirmed in her belly. She quickened her step.

As cold air bit at the back of her throat she heard footsteps. A quick look behind confirmed it; three figures travelled the same path, figures that could be Snatchers. Talking between themselves, they took no notice of her, but she quickened her pace.

Minutes passed and the men remained behind her, their footsteps a little louder, a little quicker. She checked again. With hands tucked into their pockets, they remained disinterested, but were no longer talking, and had increased their pace to match hers. She broke into a steady jog. Grit from the crumbling path crunched beneath her boots and the noise of footsteps grew heavier as the men began to run.

Heart pounding, she powered into a hard run, but the heavy rucksack, full of scavenged tins and packets, weighed her down. A dark and solid figure, fists clenched, arms pumping in time with hers, pulled up beside her. She pushed harder, struggling to gain distance but another of the men caught up and flanked her.  

“What you got in the bag?”

A hand grabbed the rucksack, yanking her back.

“Let’s have a look.” The man to the left gripped her arm, his fingers digging into her bicep.

“No!”

As she struggled to keep her balance, Magnus’ advice rose in her memory; ‘If they catch you, just let them take the bag.’ But she had spent too many hours searching, worked too hard, to let the Snatchers have it.

“Get off!”

The man was too strong, and Edie landed with a thump on the gritty path. Crossing her arms, she rolled away, twisting herself out of his grip but, as she scrambled to her knees, steely fingers locked around her ankle. Tarmac scratched at the soft skin of her belly as a knee pressed down on her back making it impossible to move. Grit, cold and sharp, pressed against her cheek.

“What’s she got?”

“Get it off her.”

“I can’t. She’s holding it too tight.”

“Give her a kick then.”

“No. Wait. I’ll get her to hand it over.” A man leant in close. “You’ll let go of the bag,” he said with a waft of sour breath, “if you know what’s good for you.”

She began to lift from the tarmac as they pulled at the bag.

“Stop pissing about. Get the bloody bag off of her!”

“Just unzip it.”

As they continued to pull at the bag, Edie hung above the path, suspended by the straps.

“Cut the damned straps then.”

“Right.”

One of the men flicked open a knife and began to saw at the thick strap and Edie was lowered to the floor. As quickly as the sawing started it stopped.

“Get down!” one of the men snapped.

“What is it?”

“Them.”

Along the road, Edie was aware of movement and craned her neck to look. A hand gripped her neck, forcing her face against the tarmac. “Lay still!” the man hissed.

“Up the hill—it’s them.” The whispered voice was laced with fear.

“Let’s go,” the other man replied, and the pressure released from Edie’s neck.

Taking her chance as the men were distracted, Edie rolled off the path and onto the verge, then stood behind the wide trunk of one of the trees that lined the suburban road. The Snatchers crouched behind a parked car; Edie now forgotten.

Hidden from view, she watched as four men dragged a girl across the road.

The four were unfamiliar, not like the scruffy thugs that prowled the streets at night and robbed you of your day’s finds. Dressed in black from head to foot they wore fitted black jackets, black trousers, and heavy black boots. The girl’s clothes were unusual too, a long drab skirt and ill-fitting dark top, no good for scavenging. Gripped between two men, the girl’s head was bowed, and her blonde hair hung loose in rattails. As they moved towards the van, one of the men stopped mid-stride and looked in her direction but stared beyond Edie to the Snatchers now running down the hill. Thick black lines ran across his cheeks, disappearing into dark sideburns.

 The side door of a van slid open, and the girl began to kick. A man grunted as she kicked his belly.

“Crack it one.” The voice was harsh, without emotion.

A black boot kicked at the girl’s thigh. She staggered and her leg gave way.

“Fuck’s sake, Cale. You’ve given it a dead leg.”

Cale locked his hands around her ankles and between them they carried the squirming girl to the van.

“Throw it in.”

Swinging her sideways, straggling blonde hair covering her face, the men threw the girl into the van. She landed with a thud, her scream muffled as the van’s door slammed shut. Breath held tight in her chest, Edie watched as the van pulled away from the kerb, circling the tree as it passed to remain out of sight.

A hand slapped down hard on her shoulder.

She gasped and swung at the man with a clenched fist.

“Whoa!” He blocked her arm and pain shot along her forearm, but she sighed with relief.

“Robin! What the hell are you doing? You scared the bejesus out of me!”

“What are you doing out this late, Edie?” he countered, glancing at the van as it moved along the road. “You know you’re not supposed to be this far down.” Concern filled his eyes, an intense blue as they searched hers.

“Did you see them?” She jabbed a finger towards the van just as its taillights disappeared.

“Yeah.”

“Who are they?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen them before, but if they frightened those scum-bag Snatchers, they’re not people we want to mess with.”

“Where do you think they’re going?”

“How would I know?” His voice carried a tone of exasperation, or fear. “Anyway, what are you doing out so late, and on your own? Your dad will kill you! Those men could have had you.”

She shied from the anger in his voice. “I’ve just been looking for stuff. I got loads. Look!”

“Shh! Keep your voice down.” He checked the street. “Tell me on the way home.”