Donate: A gripping and dark dystopian adventure (The Eyes Forward Series Book 1) by Emma Ellis

Author:Emma Ellis [Ellis, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-10-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

The town doesn’t smell like Reading. It smells of stagnant water, and the din of screeching birds is the loudest she’s known. The pavements are quieter but disorganised, no lanes to divide people, just a kerfuffle of mixed speeds, slower people in the way of faster ones trying to squeeze past. Inefficient and unpredictable. Delivery drones are less frequent and the ones that do fly past do so erratically, like they’re older models, swerving with inefficiency. Mae and Pasha wait a moment, assess the etiquette, then file in behind a few medium-paced individuals.

‘This is weird, Pasha.’

‘Different, Mae, not weird.’

Every commercial window seems to sell chips and little else, and her sub 400 Score is welcome everywhere. She can’t see anywhere that caters for the high Scores. This should make Mae feel more welcome, but instead, she feels like she is scurrying around a ditch. She’s used to being one of the poorest and knowing her place. This feels like a disordered free for all. Her stomach growls, but the thought of a box of grease is not what she wants. Her bladder is screaming at her, though, so after a few minutes they stop at a café that is quiet enough, and of course, caters to their Life Score. Instinctively, Pasha reaches for his phone to check where they are, then remembers, they’re on internet blackout.

‘Not to worry,’ he says. ‘I checked the way before we left. We just need to follow the coast south. I guess it’ll be obvious when we’re at the coast, and then as long as we head southwest, we’ll come to the edge of Somerset.’

She checks her watch, an old analogue style that Iris gave her. No heart rate sensor, no fitness data, nothing trackable, just a couple of hands walking their way round the face.

‘It’s one o’clock,’ she says. ‘I really, really don’t want to stay in a tent. It’s cold, I’m cold, and it looks like rain is coming. Maybe we can find a hotel or something?’

‘Sure. There’s bound to be hotels along the coast. Our parents took us to one when Ro and I were kids.’

‘Really?’ her eyes bulge. ‘You went to the seaside?’

‘Yeah. A holiday. Was fun. I remember our folks moaning about how dirty it was, and we got sunburned.’

‘Sounds horrific.’

‘We were kids. We had a great time. People weren’t so weird about county borders then. It was just before the county lines were fenced. Anyway, it was ages ago. After that, all our holidays were in Berkshire.’

‘Glad your folks saw sense eventually.’

He laughs at her, then goes to order some food. Beyond the grease and cheap disinfectant, she can smell it. The moisture, the mossy smell, but not like normal Berkshire, countryside moss. The dampness isn’t like when it rains on the pavement back home. Somehow, dare she think, fresher? Less humid, maybe. Though fresher, not entirely more pleasant. Disagreeable undertones of fish make the fresher notes fusty and sour. And the noise is less of a hum and more of a choir of screeches.

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