Shadows by Meaghan McIsaac

Author:Meaghan McIsaac
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Andersen Press Ltd
Published: 2018-02-28T16:00:00+00:00

GABBY

2083

The clock tower. I’ve seen it before. It’s on the edge of Avin, where garbage from the landfill has started to encroach on the city. Lots of Movers live out there on the fringe of society. I should leave you here, Father likes to say whenever we pass it, I should send you to live like all the other vermin. You’ll probably end up in Hexall Hall, like the rest of them.

I stare up at the looming tower – the old Avin post office, boarded up and rotting. I scratch nervously at my finger.

I watch a ragtag trio shuffle into the shadows, shoulders hunched. Movers, I assume. They barely glance at me, too busy picking through a pile of garbage. I’ve been raised to fear these people. But seeing them now, I don’t feel fear. I feel sadness. How many Movers have had to run from homes that didn’t want them?

A flock of crows perch above the dark clock face above. The hands don’t move. It’s broken. Of course it’s broken. That’s what time does. It breaks everything.

The post office is covered in confused graffiti. Hopeless words painted beside hopeful ones: We are all Shelf Meat; Remember: You know there’s going to be a tomorrow. Crow droppings stain it all. Hidden in the swirls of colour and poop smudge, a black handprint marks the right-side wall.

There’s a girl there, not much older than me. She leans back against the brick, her sweatshirt hood hiding her face as she picks at her teeth. Her eyes are fixed on an old woman with long, pale blue hair. I’ve never seen hair like that. The old woman speaks with a couple, man and woman, patting the man’s shoulder reassuringly. The man nods, and looks to the woman, who smiles, and the two let the blue-haired woman lead them back towards the girl. She doesn’t acknowledge the girl. Just walks by, ushering the couple along until all three disappear into the shadows of the alley. The girl turns to follow. But not before kissing her fingers, and touching the black hand on the wall.

Did they see the message on the public bulletin too? Did they put it out there? Whoever they are, they are following the black hand. All I can do is go after them.

The trio picking through the garbage still ignore me as I pass them. I’m invisible here. Just like at school. There’s something comforting in that.

I slip into the shadowed alley. I can hear an echo of footfall on metal. Above me, the blue-haired woman, the couple, and the girl in the hood climb an old fire escape up to the roof.

I follow, gripping carefully to the railing. Don’t look down. I don’t like heights.

On the roof of the clock tower, a few dozen people stand around a fire. The back of the clock looms over the group like a rose window. Did they all follow the black hand?

The blue-haired woman walks the couple to the centre of the group, to a steel drum filled with some sort of liquid.

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