MALCOLM: INTRUSION
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England, EARTH, 2505
The boy had been hiding for longer than he could remember. He could feel the dry, ashen bark pressing against his face and on his back through the shreds of his shirt as tried to press himself harder against the large, burnt slab of tree. His dark eyes flitted, scattering through the area towards where he had orginally heard the sounds of voices.
They had faded away into the darkness at least an hour ago, but he assured himself that one could never be too careful. He pulled himself to his feet quietly, not fulling standing as to hide himself from view in the lingering shadows.
He heard the noise of tittering upon a metal surface and stopped in his tracks, sweat rolling down his brow.
'Too light to be a soldier, too heavy to be a mouse too light to be a large animal--' ran through the boy's mind and he cautiously strained his eyes to look down as it came closer. A large rat swarmed over the toes of his sneakers and he almost sighed in relief. He wasn't afraid of rats, he had seen them often enough, so he stood still until the rat had finished sniffing his footwear and watched it run away into the distance. He wished that he could run off into the distance.
He looked ahead, his tired, dark eyes spotting the house not far away.
'Almost there, don't give up now,' he prodded himself along silently. 'Maddy will be missing her doll.'
The nightly patrol, a small vehicle that currently hovered about twenty metres off the ground, passed with a searchlight overhead and his small muscles tensed as he leapt down for cover, trying to blend in with the ground. As soon as it was out of sight and he could no longer hear the light, tell-tale humming sound of it's engines, he broke into a dash towards his house.
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Madeline Reed sat in the middle of the livingroom floor, watching the second hand move around the clock. Her mother sat on the floor next to her knitting with shaky hands and spoke to her husband, Stuart Reed, as she checked the time.
"He's been gone for a long time," Mrs. Reed said quietly, "Two and a half hours by now, he left at midnight."
"He's fine," Suart replied brusquely.
"You don't think the patrols got him?" She had heard awful things of what the patrols had done when they had captured Lila White's son, Mark. She didn't exactly believe Lila at first, the woman liked to be centre of attention, but that all changed when the Patrol Guards pulled the mangled body barely alive from one of their cruisers and publicly hanged him in the middle of the market.
"I said he's fine!" Stuart snapped. "If he gets caught, it's his own bloody fault."
The mother started to cry quietly, setting her knitting down onto her lap.
"Something is coming," Madeline said quietly. The child was no longer sitting watching the clock, but stood crouched at the window, peeking through the blinds.
The mother jumped up, knitting falling to the floor in a tangled heap, and slung her arms around her daughter's waist. "Madeline, go down cellar," she said with a strain in her voice. The child struggled. "Madeline, go!"
"No!" the child whined. "I wanna see, I wanna see! I--"
There was a sudden creak of boards shifting outside and a soft thud as something climbed into the cellar window and hit the cold black dirt of the cellar floor.
Stuart walked quietly over to the cellar door, motioning his family to not move as he heard the padding of almost silent footsteps coming up the stairs.
He swung his fist up as soon as the door opened and made contact, sending the intruder slamming against the wall to his left.
Madeline walked over to the fallen, her Mother making small protesting noises but too frightened to move, and tipped the face of the intruder into the small lamplight.
"Mama," Madeline said placidly, "It's Malcolm." She hugged her older brother, oblivious to the trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth and the large forming bruise on his jaw. "Mama thought the patrols got you."
Malcolm gasped for air. "They... They al-almost d-did." He gazed over to his mother who had tears forming in her eyes. "B-but I, I hid. So they di-didn't."
"What were you doing out there anyways, dear brother?" Madeline asked, pulling away slightly to regard him.
He smiled meagerly and reached into the pocket of his vest-- his only completely intact piece of clothing-- and pulled out a small, filthy rag doll. It's eyes had once been buttons, but they had long since been gone. It's right arm was missing and small bits of the white fluff stuffing were poking out where it used to be.
"I coudn't very well leave you gift-less," Malcolm said, attempting another smile and almost regretting it for the pain in his jaw. "Today is a very special day, you know."
Madeline looked confused and then her eyes went wide and sparkled with glee for the first time in monthes. "It is my birthday, isn't it Malcolm!?" Malcolm nodded. "Tell me big brother, how old do I turn today?"
"You turn five whole years todays," Malcolm replied, "Imagine! Five whole years! In only two years you will be as old as I am!"
Madeline bit her lip. "And I can go to school now?"
The school had been one of the first buildings destroyed when the England Invasion had happened in late 2499.
Malcolm inclined his head and spoke airily as a wave of dizziness swept through him. "You're too smart for school... I'll have to teach you at home..."
Madeline wrapped her arms around him once more, the rag-doll tight in her hands. She was so pleased with her brother that she failed to notice him go limp in her grasp.
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England, EARTH, 2505
The boy had been hiding for longer than he could remember. He could feel the dry, ashen bark pressing against his face and on his back through the shreds of his shirt as tried to press himself harder against the large, burnt slab of tree. His dark eyes flitted, scattering through the area towards where he had orginally heard the sounds of voices.
They had faded away into the darkness at least an hour ago, but he assured himself that one could never be too careful. He pulled himself to his feet quietly, not fulling standing as to hide himself from view in the lingering shadows.
He heard the noise of tittering upon a metal surface and stopped in his tracks, sweat rolling down his brow.
'Too light to be a soldier, too heavy to be a mouse too light to be a large animal--' ran through the boy's mind and he cautiously strained his eyes to look down as it came closer. A large rat swarmed over the toes of his sneakers and he almost sighed in relief. He wasn't afraid of rats, he had seen them often enough, so he stood still until the rat had finished sniffing his footwear and watched it run away into the distance. He wished that he could run off into the distance.
He looked ahead, his tired, dark eyes spotting the house not far away.
'Almost there, don't give up now,' he prodded himself along silently. 'Maddy will be missing her doll.'
The nightly patrol, a small vehicle that currently hovered about twenty metres off the ground, passed with a searchlight overhead and his small muscles tensed as he leapt down for cover, trying to blend in with the ground. As soon as it was out of sight and he could no longer hear the light, tell-tale humming sound of it's engines, he broke into a dash towards his house.
-----------------
Madeline Reed sat in the middle of the livingroom floor, watching the second hand move around the clock. Her mother sat on the floor next to her knitting with shaky hands and spoke to her husband, Stuart Reed, as she checked the time.
"He's been gone for a long time," Mrs. Reed said quietly, "Two and a half hours by now, he left at midnight."
"He's fine," Suart replied brusquely.
"You don't think the patrols got him?" She had heard awful things of what the patrols had done when they had captured Lila White's son, Mark. She didn't exactly believe Lila at first, the woman liked to be centre of attention, but that all changed when the Patrol Guards pulled the mangled body barely alive from one of their cruisers and publicly hanged him in the middle of the market.
"I said he's fine!" Stuart snapped. "If he gets caught, it's his own bloody fault."
The mother started to cry quietly, setting her knitting down onto her lap.
"Something is coming," Madeline said quietly. The child was no longer sitting watching the clock, but stood crouched at the window, peeking through the blinds.
The mother jumped up, knitting falling to the floor in a tangled heap, and slung her arms around her daughter's waist. "Madeline, go down cellar," she said with a strain in her voice. The child struggled. "Madeline, go!"
"No!" the child whined. "I wanna see, I wanna see! I--"
There was a sudden creak of boards shifting outside and a soft thud as something climbed into the cellar window and hit the cold black dirt of the cellar floor.
Stuart walked quietly over to the cellar door, motioning his family to not move as he heard the padding of almost silent footsteps coming up the stairs.
He swung his fist up as soon as the door opened and made contact, sending the intruder slamming against the wall to his left.
Madeline walked over to the fallen, her Mother making small protesting noises but too frightened to move, and tipped the face of the intruder into the small lamplight.
"Mama," Madeline said placidly, "It's Malcolm." She hugged her older brother, oblivious to the trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth and the large forming bruise on his jaw. "Mama thought the patrols got you."
Malcolm gasped for air. "They... They al-almost d-did." He gazed over to his mother who had tears forming in her eyes. "B-but I, I hid. So they di-didn't."
"What were you doing out there anyways, dear brother?" Madeline asked, pulling away slightly to regard him.
He smiled meagerly and reached into the pocket of his vest-- his only completely intact piece of clothing-- and pulled out a small, filthy rag doll. It's eyes had once been buttons, but they had long since been gone. It's right arm was missing and small bits of the white fluff stuffing were poking out where it used to be.
"I coudn't very well leave you gift-less," Malcolm said, attempting another smile and almost regretting it for the pain in his jaw. "Today is a very special day, you know."
Madeline looked confused and then her eyes went wide and sparkled with glee for the first time in monthes. "It is my birthday, isn't it Malcolm!?" Malcolm nodded. "Tell me big brother, how old do I turn today?"
"You turn five whole years todays," Malcolm replied, "Imagine! Five whole years! In only two years you will be as old as I am!"
Madeline bit her lip. "And I can go to school now?"
The school had been one of the first buildings destroyed when the England Invasion had happened in late 2499.
Malcolm inclined his head and spoke airily as a wave of dizziness swept through him. "You're too smart for school... I'll have to teach you at home..."
Madeline wrapped her arms around him once more, the rag-doll tight in her hands. She was so pleased with her brother that she failed to notice him go limp in her grasp.