Chapter 1

Ebony dreamed, fitfully. In her dream, she had seen Jack. He had walked into her room, sat down on the edge of the bed and told her he loved her. He had kissed her, but, just as the kiss was starting to get interesting, there had been a shot. Familiar laughter had rung out, filling the room, and Jack had fallen to the floor. As Ebony looked us, she had seen Zoot, towering over her, laughing like the madman he was, holding the gun. She looked down at Jack. He was dead, with dark red blood seeping from a wound in his chest, where the bullet had gone right through. Ebony looked down at her own chest. The bullet wound was there, not on the opposite side from Jack's, as it should have been, but over her heart, in exactly the same position as Jack's wound. Zoot leaned closer to her, so that they were almost nose to nose. He held the gun just above her ear.

"What becomes of the broken hearted, Ebony?" Zoot smirked.

Then he pulled the trigger.

Ebony sat up suddenly in bed, gasping for air. She shook herself. It was only a dream. Nothing more. Jack was sleeping safe and sound in the next room. Much as she may wish he was right next to her, for the time being the next room sufficed. She leant across to pour some water into the glass on her bedside table and her hand brushed against something paper. In the darkness, Ebony could just make out the shape of a folded piece of paper. She got out of bed, picked up the paper and walked across to the window. Pulling the curtains aside, she let the clear moonlight flood into the room. She could just make out the writing on the paper. It was a note. It was addressed to her. It was in Jack's handwriting.

Slowly unfolding the note, Ebony sat down in the box window and pulled a blanket round her as she began to read. The note was short and to the point, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

Dear Ebony,

Before I say anything else, let me just say I love you, because I do. You have to remember that. The last couple of weeks have been the greatest, and the weirdest, of my life and would not change that for anything or anyone. But in those two weeks, I became a father. I have a daughter out there, somewhere. Another part of me. And I don't know if she's eating, sleeping or even still alive. I need to know if she's okay. Please try to understand that. I have to go and find my daughter and bring her back, if I can.

With all my heart,

Jack.

Ebony stared at the note for what seemed like an eternity. When she finally did stir from her thoughts, the sun was coming up. Ebony came to her senses. Ebony looked at the note. And Ebony screamed.

****

Jack walked right through the night. He had a lot of ground to make up. He had headed off in the direction in which a few of the regulars had mentioned seeing Jetta leave. Whether he would ever find her again, or his daughter for that matter, he couldn't say, but he knew he had to try. As the sun came up he settled down to make some breakfast. He had left a note for Ruby, explaining why he had taken the food and that he would pay for it when he returned.

As the day warmed, he found his thoughts wandering back to Ebony. She had been on his mind most of the night, but now she was there in a different fashion. By now, he thought, she would have read the note. Jack shuddered at the thought of a vengeful Ebony bearing down on his tracks like a petite Boadicea, then he corrected himself. She wasn't like that anymore. She was different now. And it was because of him. And for the first time in his life, he worried about her.

****

Jetta lay, wrapped in a thick woollen blanket, holding her daughter close to her. Eventually, she awoke, blinking in the pale morning sun. Winter was drawing near and she hadn't picked the best time of year to go roaming around the countryside with a young child. Her first thought was to check the fire.

Holding Hope close to her she stirred up the dying embers of the fire until the flames returned. As she fed her daughter and herself, Jetta looked around to get her bearings and decide which way to travel. She could either just turn and go back or carry on in her search for her tribe. They had been split up long ago, when the Chosen took over, but they were warriors and only a few, including herself, had been captured.

That was how she had first met him, about two years ago, in the Chosen facility. He had been taken to work on some science project. She had been set to cleaning the facility. She had never figured out just what he was supposed to be trying to achieve, she just knew that he seemed to be getting just enough right to convince the Chosen that he was worth keeping there and not in the mines. It was a skill that made him valuable, and that value gave him at least some power.

She had been lucky: many of the girls the Chosen had taken had been raped at least once. She hadn't. But that was for one reason and one reason only: Jack. She had been assigned to work in the same section of the facility as he had. One day the Chosen guard watching one of the doors had decided to have a go, but he had been stopped. He had been stopped by a skinny little geek that appeared to be a prisoner in one of the labs. He had been stopped by Jack. And because the Guardian didn't want Jack hurt, they had both got away with it.

Luck like that, however, doesn't hold out long. It was a few months later, when the Chosen were starting to get tired of Jack's many "near successes", that the guard had tried it on again. This time, a fight ensued. Jack wasn't much of a fighter, entirely hopeless in fact, but he gave the guard the distraction needed for Jetta to cut her hands and feet free of her rope shackles and hit the guard over the head with the nearest thing that came to hand. Unfortunately that thing had been the very stout wooden handle of her very solid brush and the guard fell to the floor, very dead.

That was when they had ran, just the two of them. They had carried on for days, not knowing what way they were going or where they would next be able to stop and rest. They were in entirely unfamiliar territory. The first few settlements they came to gave them food and water and some small items, but only in payment for their swift removal from their camp: no-one wanted two escaped Chosen prisoners in their midst.

On the fourth day, it nearly ended. They had camped for the night in a sheltered gully on a rocky hillside. When they awoke, they heard voices. Looking around, they had seen the robes of two Chosen guards, each carrying their scythe-like weapons. Because of the gully, they were trapped. The only thing to do was stand and fight: there were only two guards after all. Those guards, however, had weapons. Jetta had quickly wrested the scythe from her attackers hands and knocked him over: the young man had been poorly trained. He hit his head on a rock and she could see blood pouring from the wound. She had turned to face the other guard who, having knocked Jack out, now gave her his full attention. This guard was better at his job. He had disarmed her and was advancing towards her when Jack cannoned into him from the side. Caught off-guard, the guard slashed out with his scythe and opened a wound across Jack's body that was etched in Jetta's memory for life. She had taken the opportunity and hit the guard on the head with a nearby rock before rushing to Jack's side. Rummaging through the packs the guards had brought with them, she had found some remnants of food, a supply of water and, vitally, a vague and hurriedly put together first aid kit.

She had done her best to clean the wound and stem the bleeding, but it would be a day or two before they could be on the move again. She had dropped the bodies, and the remains of their packs, in the deep, fast flowing river below the hill and watched the current carry them away. When she returned to Jack's side, she saw that the wound was bleeding again. If this was the old world, a doctor would have had to use stitches to hold the cut together because it was so deep. In this world, Jack was just lucky the cut wasn't any deeper.

Jetta could remember a village, about three hours walk back the way they had come. It was a risk, but she needed more supplies for Jack, including something better than water to clean the cut with. She had left him, wrapped up and still unconscious, in the relative safety of the gully and gone back to the village. What she hadn't been given willingly, she stole before making her way back to the gully and Jack's side. When she got there, he was awake.

She had been as gentle as she could, removing the old bandages, but she could see the pain on Jack's face. The bleeding had more or less subsided and was starting to form clots along the line of the cut, but she still had to make sure the cut was clean. She had brought something from the village that would do that job nicely: alcohol.

Jetta had no idea when exactly she realised that she had fallen for her hapless saviour, but she knew he didn't feel the same way about her. Over the past few days they had talked about their tribes and one girl had been uppermost in Jack's mind. Her name was Ellie. He hardly ever stopped talking about her. That was why it had come as such a surprise when, later on that night, he had kissed her.