Powercuts
Blurb: In a bleak future tormented by Immortal attacks and teetering on the brink of revolution, a young girl strikes up an odd friendship with a woman who can talk to animals. Leanne's fascination soon sours when she suspects the woman might be to blame for the arrival of the Immortals in her city. D/N
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A/N: This is a sequel to The Autumn Assignment. It is a complete story on its own, but many parts of it will make much more sense if you read the prequel first!
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Chapter 1
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Afterwards, Leanne said, she couldn't remember anything at all. Not the sudden shriek, not the frozen way she'd stared up at the silver-clawed creature, too scared even to run away from her own death, not anything.
"Nonsense," Said her brother, pushing a cup of hot chocolate into her hands with his usual abrupt gentleness. "You must remember something."
No, Leanne insisted. Nothing. Not a single thing. And then she shut her mouth tightly and refused to say another word.
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It is strange how one event can start off a whole chain, like the first raindrop in a storm. Often they're so small a blink would make them vanish, but sometimes they come screaming into our lives on silver wings, and when they attack you they're quite hard to ignore!
Not that the children were expecting anything to happen to them on that day. It seemed perfectly normal. The park was nearly empty, because even seven years after the monsters had first appeared, people still hadn't remembered how to feel safe outside. Daniel had said it was safe enough for them to play when there were grownups around, what with the overhanging barbed wires stopping flyers and the thick fences around the city warning away the prowlers. The countryside might be dangerous, he said, but we live in the city, and only a few immortals slip through the soldiers' defences.
Leanne wasn't sure- a few was a lot less reassuring than none, but she trusted her big brother. He could remember the time before the immortals returned, after all. He knew how to survive. She had simply grown up in the city, and only knew she was surviving because she read about the people who weren't in the newspapers.
On that day, her little ward was being horribly energetic. She knew she wasn't supposed to take him outside on her own, but she also knew she would be blamed for every knocked-over vase and every dent in the furniture. At a loose end, she decided a half-hour run around the park would probably make him tired enough to sit and play quietly for the afternoon. So she took Tallis to the park, almost having to run after him when he took off at high speed.
For a five-year-old he was unusually small, and she usually spent more time picking him up and drying his tears when he fell over than anything else. Her brother said she was a good babysitter, but she didn't think that was right. She spent so much time in a blind panic, worrying that her nephew would fall and break his head open!
Tallis laughed in his odd high voice and headed straight for the swings, and then started sulking when they wouldn't stay still enough in the wind for him to climb on without help. Leanne held the chain still and he kicked off so quickly she had to jump back to stop the swing crashing back into her. The little pest laughed again when she landed in a puddle and mud coursed up her clothes. She blinked at the stains with tears in her eyes. Sometimes life just wasn't fair!
She sat on the second swing sulkily, watching her feet waving forwards, back, forwards, back, perfectly in time with the excited whooping of the little pest. Out of the corner of her eye she watched the other feet, the grownup feet as they walked past the enclosed play-park. Red shoes, black shoes, trainers, sandals. Her shoes had been black too, her shiny school shoes, until they were covered in mud. Now they were brown. Boring brown feet in boring brown shoes.
Afterwards she wondered if her boredom had somehow called the creature. Tallis saw it before she did. Face upturned to the sky on the high point of the swing, his scream of joy turned into a shriek of terror. Leanne didn't hear the difference until other screams joined it, grownup screams in deeper voices. The feet ran away and she looked up, just in time for the sunlight to reflect off the sharp silver claws into her eyes and blind her.
Tallis screamed again, unable to stop the swing from reeling in and out of the hurrock's path, his feet straining to reach the ground. In desperation he jumped from the swing, landing badly and hurting his knee. Normally this would have him curled up on the ground sobbing, but today he hardly noticed the pain. He took off at a run towards the nearest tree, wailing, and the creature's head snapped around towards the running prey.
Leanne noticed two things, then. The first was that the creature was tangled in one of the overhanging wires, the sharp barbs cutting into one hind leg and drawing blood. The hurrock lunged towards Tallis but the wire caught it painfully, and it turned around to bite at it with sharp silver teeth.
The second thing she noticed was that she couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She could only stare at the silver wire and the silver claws and the writhing monster in terror, knowing that at any moment it would free itself and attack, and that even if she could run she would never be fast enough, or go far enough away, to be safe. She stared at the silver wire and couldn't remember a single thing they'd learned in school about Monster Danger, or a single spell she'd learned which might fight it off.
The grownups had all run away by now. The world was full only of the sounds of gnashing teeth and flapping wings. Whenever the hurrock was too close to the ground it tore up great strips of grass with its claws, like a hot knife going through soft butter.
The loop of wire broke with a sound like a tinny piano string being struck, and the hurrock was free. It turned its head slowly, deliberately, and stared at her.
Leanne stared back. Her throat burned, it was so dry, and she couldn't bring herself to swallow the knife-blade of fear that was choking her.
"Must you attack children?" A soft voice asked, iron in its accusation. The hurrock reared back and stared around, nostrils flaring as it looked for the speaker. Leanne breathed out in a rush, and then realised she could move again. She collapsed from the swing, shaking too much to run, and the creature darted closer to her.
"No." She didn't see what the woman did, but the creature suddenly keened and spun away again. Its manic eyes rolled back in its head and this time it stayed further away, still sniffing the air suspiciously. Its eyes narrowed; it focused on a copse of trees nearby, but by the time it had found its prey another arrow was hurtling towards it. This one buried itself in its fore shoulder, and now Leanne could see the first arrow buried in its hind knee. For some reason the sight made Leanne want to laugh- it was so unusual to see arrows! It was like being in a school play.
"The next one will be in your head. I don't miss. Leave." The soft voice never wavered, never rose, but the immortal keened again and this time took wing, the trees shaking as it beat against the breeze. Leanne stared after it, and her eyes kept spinning, rising higher and higher and drifting into the empty white-blue of the sky as she passed out.
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She opened her eyes and blinked a few times. This wasn't her room! There were no soft toys, no photos on the walls, and no duck-egg blue wallpaper. This wasn't even a bed, but a sofa, protected by a thick green blanket made of felted wool. Leanne ran her hand over it a few times, her fingers finding the odd strand of loose animal fur in the wool. She didn't have a pet. She didn't know anyone who did, what with the food ration. Whose house was this?
Looking around gave her no clues either. It was a crowded room, but comfortable. The windows were small, letting in enough sunlight to let her see the over-full bookshelves and the happy chaos of a work-desk. Daniel and Katy's room looked like this, Leanne thought, and the idea made her relax. A second table held fewer papers, but more interesting things. She wandered over to it, touching the pestle and mortar and tipping up the jars to the light, staring at the leaves and odd powders in them.
"They're medicines." Leanne recognised the soft voice, and didn't whirl around as quickly as she might have done, but she still jumped. The woman smiled apologetically at her surprise, and then walked over to take the jar gently from the girl's hand. "This is turmeric. If you add it to milk and some honey it will help ease a cough. I don't think you need it!"
"Are you a doctor?" Leanne asked, her voice faint. The woman shook her head, and then looked thoughtful, grey eyes flicking sideways as she considered.
"Not really. I suppose you would call me a vet."
"That explains the pet hair!" The girl realised she'd spoken out loud and blushed, but the vet didn't seem to mind. She raised an eyebrow.
"You noticed that? Very observant of you. Or perhaps we should clean more often!" She looked at the chaos of paper on the second desk with some amusement and put the jar down carefully on her own table, treating the old jam jar as if glass was something precious. "You fainted, Leanne, and I didn't know where you lived, and your brother needed help too, so I brought you home. I hope you don't mind."
"Tallis!" Leanne clapped a hand to her forehead, feeling the faintness flooding back. "The monster… is he, is he…?"
"He's fine! He hurt his leg, but I bandaged it up for him." The woman spoke quickly, seriously, and then the wry amusement returned. "You call your brother 'the monster'?"
"No." Leanne looked scornful. "I meant the hurrock, lady! It attacked us."
"Ah." The woman smiled briefly and then turned away, gesturing for Leanne to follow her. The girl did, wondering if this was truly the woman who had fought the hurrock away. Maybe someone else did it and she just spoke to it. She'd never heard of a ninja vet before.
The woman led her through to the kitchen and fetched her a glass of milk, staying tactfully silent while Leanne checked on Tallis. The little boy was fast asleep in a huge chair that sat near the stove, one leg neatly bandaged, one hand clutching a sleeping cat tightly as if it were a teddy bear. Every so often the cat would open one lazy eye and purr. Leanne dipped her fingertip in the creamy milk and held it out to the cat, smiling when it licked it off with a papery tongue and then dozed off again.
"She's called Selki." The vet said. Leanne nodded solemnly and went to sit at the kitchen table, sipping the milk before asking her own question.
"What's your name?"
Did Leanne imagine it, or did the woman pause before she answered? "I'm Deanna," she said, with a smile which made her hesitation seem less ominous. Leanne had been expecting Mrs. Somethinorother, so being told a first name made her smile back and ask what Deanna's messy boyfriend's name was.
This time the corners of Deanna's eyes turned up in genuine amusement. "I think I'm a little old to be living with a boyfriend! I have a husband, though. His name is Aaron."
"How old are you?" Leanne asked, then clapped her hand over her mouth as if the question was truly impertinent. Deanna didn't seem to mind, although the question made some of the smile disappear from her eyes. The eyes were grey and unlined, and apart from the white streak there was no fading in her curly brown hair. Her answer was flippant as she busied herself finding a blanket for Tal.
"Oh, I'm ancient."
Leanne accepted that answer gravely, sipping her milk. Deanna sat down at the opposite side of the table and rested her chin in her hands, bright eyes kind but serious. "Why were you on your own?" She asked gently. Leanne looked down at her hands, swallowing back her guilt, and explained about the vases, and Tallis's mission to destroy everything, and…
"Yes, yes, but that's not what I meant." The woman interrupted, "I meant, why were you alone in the first place? You look about eight. Where are your parents?"
"My mummy's dead." Leanne said automatically, and was surprised that the woman hardly reacted. Most grown-ups would flinch and tiptoe around the subject. Slightly put-out, she carried on, "I live with my big brother, and his girlfriend, and with Tallis, of course."
"Of course!" Deanna smiled encouragingly, and glanced over to the chair where the boy was sleeping curled into an impossibly tight ball. "Your brother?"
"No, my nephew. And I'm not eight, miss, I'm ten."
"I apologise, I should stop making guesses! I seem to be getting everything wrong." The woman laughed, and Leanne wondered if it was real laughter. Most grown-ups didn't talk like this. She decided she didn't mind; the lady had a nice voice, with a strange lilting accent, and even if she was just being grown-uppy and secretive, she was still nice, and had fought off the horrible monster. So the girl tried to explain.
"My brother wouldn't leave us alone, not normally. But he has to work, and so does Katy. Usually me 'n Tal are at school when they're working and we all meet up at the gates and walk home together, you know? But sometimes the school has a power cut, when they're rationing off the power and don't tell the school before, you know? And it's a basement because of the… the immortals. They wanted us to be safe, not to have big windows. So when they have a power cut we can't see, so we're all sent home early. When that happens I'm to take Tal home and keep him quiet for the day until there are grown-ups around. Usually he's fine, but today…today…"
Deanna stood up quickly to lean over the table. It took Leanne a moment to realise she was being offered a handkerchief.
"Don't cry," The woman said, "Nothing was your fault, not really."
"I took him outside, though! On my own! Daniel's going to be so a-a-angry at me!" Leanne sobbed into the piece of cloth. The woman stared at her for a moment, and then sat down heavily.
"What… what did you say your brother's name was?" She whispered. Leanne repeated it through sobs, wondering if this grownup was going to tell on her.
"And the lady's name is Katy? And you're Leanne?" The woman's soft voice was oddly insistent. Leanne nodded. Perhaps she was going to call the police…
And then the woman did something unbelievable.
She started laughing.
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Leanne curled up under her duvet, hugging her toy duck to her chest and repeating her promise over and over again until it was etched into her dreams. Don't let your brother know what happened. He'll only worry. Promise me you won't tell him a single word.
Leanne was proud of herself, and whispered why to the duck: "I didn't say a word."
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"I didn't say a word." Said Daine, "Not one word. Nothing. I don't see why you're so angry at me!"
"You brought them into our home!" Numair threw his hands up and stomped into the next room mid-accusation, knowing full well that his voice would carry through into the kitchen. Daine decided to retort in kind.
"So what? I should have left them in the park, bleeding and scared out of their wits? I didn't even know who they were until long after they were already here."
"They're not stray dogs, Daine." Numair's voice was softer, but dangerous. "They can speak to other people. What do you think they will say first?"
"Nothing! Not our names, not anything about us, and definitely not that we know their family already. Nothing. All that little girl knows is where we live, because even though I can lie about the rest of our life I can't pretend we don't live here…"
"Yes, the little girl told me that the woman who lives in that house can fight off a whole immortal on her own, and, you know, I talked to the neighbours and apparently she moved in around the same time the monsters reappeared. Well, let's just check up on them, see… oh, wait, they're not on our records! Where did they come from? Odd, how they suddenly appeared with the immortals..!"
"You're exaggerating." Daine picked at a splinter from the table, trying not to pretend it was her husband's stubborn will she was smoothing out with vengeful fingernails. "That won't happen. People aren't that suspicious."
"They're still looking for someone to blame." Numair pointed out, walking back into the room with a face set like thunder. "You see it every day in the papers. And since we actually are to blame, and Daniel, and Katy, it would be best if we all kept a low profile… and didn't incriminate each other."
Daine opened her mouth to reply, and then hissed between her teeth when the splinter embedded itself in her fingertip. Rather than get dragged back into a shouting match, she shrugged off her answer and busied herself trying to pull the fragment out with her teeth. The silence was perhaps a good thing; after a few minutes Numair had calmed down enough to sit down and speak quietly.
"I'm not saying you shouldn't have helped them." He said, "Of course you should. I'm glad you did."
"We can't cut ourselves off forever," Daine gave up on the splinter and rested her head in her arms, sounding unbearably tired. "We can't. I miss the others, but you're right… we all have to start again, make our own lives. But how can we do that if we don't take risks and let people know us? Even if it's not really us, not our real names, not our real stories, even then. We have to let someone in. After spending hundreds of years trapped in the divine realms, I thought you'd be itching to meet someone new. I know I am!"
Numair sighed and tugged at his nose, trying to think of an excuse to say no when he knew she was actually right. But… "A child?"
"Yes, a child. Why not?" Daine couldn't help herself sounding defensive, and was relieved when Numair didn't notice the tone. Or perhaps he was purposefully avoiding raising the subject. They both knew that there were some things that shouldn't be spoken about in raised voices. He started to say something, and then stopped, looking away. Daine read his expression and forced herself to smile, knowing he could see through the expression like a sheet of glass.
"It doesn't mean I'm giving up."
"No. No, I know that, sweetling. But… won't having other people's children around be…"
"Oh, be still my beating jealous heart." Daine said tartly, ending the conversation once and for all.
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