Resurgence (9 page)

‘What now?’ Hart asks, mirroring what everyone surely wants to know.

I pull the teleport box out of my pocket. ‘I want to head south to see Knave and Vez. I want to get Imrin out but we don’t know if he’s still at Windsor Castle. If we can reach
the Southern Realm then at least we’re close. With everything that has happened, the rebels might be in a better position. Knave will be able to tell us.’

Jela nods towards the box. ‘What do you need to fix it?’

‘Not much, some heavy-duty wires. I didn’t realise the heat it would generate. It burned through what I’d been using. There will be some in the gully but I don’t want to
risk drawing anyone back towards my mum and everyone else. Plus we don’t know if there are other unexploded grenades around.’

‘Where else can we find some?’ Jela asks.

‘Potentially any piece of technology. It’s only wire but the older the better as it’ll be thicker. I took the cables from thinkpads but it is too thin and not resilient enough.
With this not working, we’re going to have to start walking south anyway. We’ll probably come across something on the way. I found some tools in the back of that van and it
shouldn’t take long to fix.’

I peer up to the sky but Hart is ahead of me, pointing off to the side. ‘That way’s south. We’re far enough away from Martindale that there shouldn’t be any
danger.’

‘I’ve never been close to this side of the woods,’ I say.

I look to Opie and Hart and their faces are blank too. It’s not completely unfamiliar as we walked north to get to Martindale when we came from Middle England – but we are miles east
of where we were then. Whenever Opie and I explored outside Martindale before the Reckoning, we went further north, but it isn’t as if this is the first time we have walked into the
unknown.

We usually walk at night, but now the intermittent flashes of light through the trees helps as we manoeuvre through tightly packed bracken and bushes. We walk for a little over an hour until the
forest begins to thin and we emerge high on a hill overlooking a vast yellow, brown and green valley with a babbling river curving through the centre. The sun is low but the sky is a magnificent
orange and we stop, sitting on the grass to ensure there are no Kingsmen below, but also enjoying the pure beauty of the scenery.

It seems strange that something so fantastic could be less than a couple of hours’ walk from where I have grown up and yet neither Hart, Opie nor myself have ever seen it. We sit watching
the sun dip ever lower as a deer trots along the bank of the river and stops to drink. As it laps at the water, its ears prick up at the squawk of a nearby bird before it turns and races for the
trees on the far side.

Slowly the sunlight is replaced by a brilliant white full moon, draping the valley in a stunning, haunting light blue glow. The night is cool but not as cold as we have been used to and we take
jumpers from our bags instead of the thick blankets we have frequently wrapped around ourselves.

We edge steadily down the bank, Pietra pointing and giggling as we send a small group of hedgehogs scurrying for cover by getting a little too close for their liking. She has never seen one
before and doesn’t take too kindly to Hart’s suggestion that they taste good. He winks at me to say he’s never tried one as Pietra slaps him on the arm.

We stop to drink the cool, invigorating water directly from the river. It is so much better than the rainwater we have been living off that we empty all the containers we have and refill them
from the stream.

The others insist they are fine walking through the night, even though they were up much earlier than I was, so we push on across the valley until it widens out onto the outskirts of a town. It
is only a few miles from Martindale but none of us knows what this place is called.

Although we might be able to find the parts I need, there is a string of dim lights in the windows of various houses. After everything that happened in Martindale, it isn’t worth the risk
of stumbling across anyone. We take a long route around the town, sticking to the shadows of the back streets where there is no other option and then pressing through a hedge, following the line of
a field until we are clear.

We have to wade across a wide river but the water isn’t flowing quickly and the ground on the other side is solid. The next village we reach has no signs of life but none of us is drawn to
the abandoned buildings. Instead, we stand in awe at a sight so strange I don’t know what to say.

We stare up at the giant rusting wheel until Jela breaks the silence. ‘What is it?’

A large triangle-shaped frame is holding the wheel in place and there are pods big enough to seat a couple of people at regular intervals. Broken light bulbs dotted around the crumbling metal
reflect the moonlight.

It is Opie who spots the sign, pointing at a rotted wooden gate: ‘Ferris wheel,’ he reads.

‘What’s a Ferris wheel?’ Jela asks.

‘I remember my mum telling me about them,’ Hart says. ‘Before the war, she met my dad at a funfair. They would come to the village once a year for a weekend and all the young
people would go and spend their money on all sorts of rides and lots of really sweet food.’

Beyond the wheel, I can see a ship held in the air by an A-frame, and to the side of that there is a circular carousel with horses held in place by poles. Only a few are still intact; broken
heads and legs are scattered about the floor.

The site is a large field on the edge of town and we make our way around, trying to take it all in. There is a small puppet-show booth, which is as much as I recognise, but the unknown nature of
everything else is utterly fascinating. There are small cars with rounded fronts and rubber bumpers that would have once crashed into each other, a winding, raised track for another type of vehicle
and two whole rows of partially collapsed stalls offering food I could only dream about.

‘Candy floss,’ Hart reads on one of the cabins. ‘That’s what my mum said Dad bought her when they were going out.’

The wonder of something we have never seen before is tempered by the eerie nature of the abandoned park. From the twisted shards of metal to the shattered pieces of rides, it doesn’t seem
as if anyone has been here since the war, if not before. It looks as if everything was abandoned in one go, with clothes and photographs scattered across the floor of the caravans at the rear.

Every piece of metal has a covering of brittle brown rust. Most of the colours are faded but there is still a vividness to some of the paintings of people with bright red noses and curly green
hair.

‘They used to play music at these things,’ Hart says. ‘There were games too, you could throw things to win prizes and my dad said he learned to shoot at places like
this.’

‘Who did they shoot?’ Pietra asks, but Hart shakes his head.

Opie suggests we could sleep here safely but I am confident I can find the wire I need, which would mean we could teleport away from here and shelter underneath the abandoned church with Knave
and Vez.

I return to the Ferris wheel with Opie, who uses a piece of scrap metal from the ground to smash open a control box in a booth next to it. Although the exterior of the panel is as rusted as
everything else, the equipment underneath is surprisingly well preserved. Within a few minutes, I have cut out a selection of wires, any of which should work. I find a space where the moon is
bright enough to let me see clearly and begin working.

The others are fascinated by the games and rides but I am more excited about the ancient technology we are surrounded by. If times were different, I would have loved to have spent days here,
experimenting and playing with it all. Perhaps I could have even made the rides work again? If Opie and I had walked in this direction the first time he kissed me, we could have come here instead
of the lush green field we ended up in miles north of home. Perhaps our lives would have gone in different directions if it hadn’t been for that day?

The work doesn’t take me long as I slice away the frail wires from the teleporter box and replace them with the sturdy parts from the wheel. There is plenty left over and we stuff it into
Opie’s bag just in case it’s needed in future.

We left Jela, Pietra and Hart exploring and find them in a small play park next to the funfair. Here there is equipment we are more familiar with: a roundabout that is bent to the side and a
slide that has fallen over. The two girls are on swings next to each other, with Hart using a hand to push each of them. He shushes Pietra as she giggles with glee but doesn’t object when she
insists he push her higher.

It is great to hear laughter again, even if Hart stops pushing as we approach. The girls come to a slow stop.

‘You didn’t have to stop for me,’ I say with a smile.

Jela’s grin is as wide as I have seen it. ‘Did you fix it?’

‘I think so. I need to test it first.’

Hart steps forward. ‘I’ll go.’ I take out the box and start to fiddle with the controls, beckoning him over, but he shakes his head. ‘Let’s try something
harder.’

‘Like what?’

He picks Pietra up from the swing and pecks her on the head. ‘Try to jump me onto here,’ he says, pointing to the swing.

I shake my head. ‘Absolutely not. Moving people around is too dangerous without using the doors that Xyalis invented. Solid surfaces only.’

‘I trust you.’

I start to tell him that it’s not about trust but he interrupts: ‘It’s everything to do with faith. I know you’re good enough to make this work. If you’re going to
zip five of us from one end of the country to the other, you should be able to move me a short distance onto a swing.’

I expect Pietra to step in and say he’s being reckless but she is looking at me with the same excitement as the others. I feel the prickle of expectation along my spine. If I’d had a
device like this before the Reckoning, I wouldn’t have hesitated to experiment on myself, even if it was entirely for my own amusement.

I can’t believe I’m saying the words. ‘Okay . . .’

Hart’s face spreads into a grin. ‘Let’s do it.’

He steps closer to me as I fiddle with the controls. I have our location through my thinkwatch and the fact the swing is in front of me means it shouldn’t be too difficult to programme
because I can see the height of it without having to guess.

‘Are you ready?’ I ask, my fingers tingling from the thrill.

‘One moment.’ Hart steps away and kicks the swing, setting it bouncing back and forth. I make a slight adjustment and press the button. The air begins to shimmer with the
now-familiar orange hue and Hart bounds into it without hesitation.

I hold my breath as he disappears into the vapour and instantly reappears standing on the seat of the swing. His knees bend and he stumbles slightly but he grabs the chains to steady
himself.

I think the smile on his face says it all but he puts it into words anyway. ‘
That
is the best fun I’ve ever had.’

The others are suitably impressed as I remove the rear panel of the teleportation box and check that the wiring is holding solid. It is slightly warm but nowhere near as hot as before.

I clip it back into place as the others wait expectantly for my verdict. ‘It was a really short journey so it should only need a few minutes to cool and then we can go.’

Pietra is holding onto Hart, running her hand along the length of his arm to make sure he really is in one piece. ‘Where are you going to take us to?’ she asks.

‘When Faith and I first went to the town where we found Knave, Vez and the other rebels, there was this field on the outskirts. It’s wide and open and shouldn’t be too hard to
find on my thinkwatch’s map. I don’t want to risk going anywhere near the church because of all the wreckage. The space isn’t open enough. I could end up dropping us into a
beam.’

Everyone seems excited; it is only me who is not so sure. ‘I’ve never tested this over such a distance,’ I add.

Jela shakes her head but continues to smile. ‘Silver, look at what you’ve just done. It’s like magic. We can either spend two weeks walking or we can trust you to get things
right. I know which option I’m taking.’

As I look from one person to the next, it is clear they all have the same thought – they trust me completely.

Either that or they don’t fancy walking.

The popping in my ears isn’t quite as loud as the previous time but my knees crumple and I stumble forward into a shallow puddle of mud. My coordinates were perfect but
it looks as if it has been raining a lot more in the Southern Realm than around Martindale. The field on the outskirts of the town where Knave and Vez were hiding is drenched and water is
squelching into my shoes. Everyone else is rubbing their arms, checking that their body parts have made it. I am slightly out of breath but the pull wasn’t as intense this time. I wipe away a
spot of blood from the top of my lip before Opie can mention it. No one else seems affected.

The moon is obscured by a curtain of slow-moving clouds, making the shadows longer and darker.

‘How is it?’ Hart asks when he sees me putting the transporter box back into my pocket.

‘Warm, but it hasn’t burned through this time. Because of the distance we’ve travelled, it will probably take a few hours to be ready to use again.’

Pietra moans in discomfort as her foot steps into a puddle that sloshes over the top of her shoes. Hart suppresses a smirk but makes sure she doesn’t see it. ‘Can you remember where
the hatch is?’ he asks.

‘More or less.’

It’s too dark to see where the wettest parts of the field are, and I lead the others towards the church accompanied by a multitude of moans and groans as one by one everyone steps into a
puddle or something worse.

Knave and Vez have lookouts around the woods that overlook the field but the area has been flattened and there are no obvious spots anyone could be watching us from. Their hideout is underneath
a destroyed church, the entrance cleverly concealed by pieces of rubble stuck to a hatch in the ground. A person would only know where it was if he or she was looking for it. I tell Opie that we
were brought here in blindfolds but left through the hatch. Although the rest of us have an idea where it is, the lack of light and the sheer amount of scattered wood, tiles, bricks and concrete
means it is a little
too
well hidden.