The Wasteland Soldier, Book 1, A Fractured World

Four

Theo opened his eyes to near darkness as a siren began to wail. It was the signal that the day shift had ended and Luna would be preparing to leave work.

The apartment they shared was close to the Worker Zone. Despite no longer owning a bicycle, she was a brisk walker and would be home in ten minutes or so. He stumbled off the sofa. It had been light when he had fallen asleep hours earlier and he hadn't intended to rest for this long. He fetched a lantern, lit it and bathed the room with a flickering yellow light. He saw a clutch of empty food bar wrappers on the floor by the sofa. Two bars were enough to sustain a man for a twenty four hour period before any hunger pangs kicked in, but he had gorged on more than half a dozen and the chemical overload had left his body feeling sluggish, his thoughts foggy.

Theo knew his excessive consumption was becoming a problem for them both. With his job gone they received only one Citizen Parcel, not two, half the rations and supplies; yet he was already eating twice the normal amount, sometimes more, and though numbers was not his strong point, even he knew they were soon to run out. He would have to steal again. He had despised it but with so many apartments empty during the day it was tempting and straightforward enough. He would hang if captured and Luna could lose the apartment, even face exile from the city, if it was believed she had been complicit. He had even noticed that she skipped eating some days, so that he could have more, her gesture another noose choking at his throat.

Shaking his head, trying to clear the dizzy feeling and miserable dreams, Theo picked up the wrappers, screwed them into a ball and looked around for where to conceal them. It would be another two days before Luna brought home a fresh Citizen Parcel. Rations! The SOT used to stand on street corners and protest that there was no need for rationing. What did they know? And where were they now? Losers, thought Theo, stuffing the wrappers beneath the sofa. He reached for his shoes, tugged them on and tied the laces. The street outside was noisy with conversation and the rush of bicycles as thousands of citizens spilled out from the plants and factories.

Theo carried the lantern into the small bedroom. The bed was unmade, another broken promise, covers half on the floor, bottom sheet twisted. He went to a chest of drawers and dragged a folded satchel from beneath it. He realised his heart was beating faster and his palms were greasy as he drew open the zip. He needed to get a move on before Luna arrived home. He looked around the bedroom and immediately bagged the wind-up alarm clock. He heard movement in the apartment next door. Quickly, he tugged open several drawers and picked out lingerie that had been a gift a year back. He felt the fabric between his trembling fingers and reluctantly tossed them into the bag. He spotted a hairbrush and a hand mirror and took both. He saw wisps of black hair tangled on the head of the brush and threw it back onto the bed. Satisfied there was nothing else, he returned to the living room, carrying both lantern and satchel.

He took two ornaments, hideous pieces with tiny chips and cracks. The ceiling above creaked with footsteps and a smattering of conversation passed the front door. He shot a look out of the apartment window. The street was less busy now. She would be home at any moment. He looked at the contents of the satchel and groaned. It wouldn't be enough. It was becoming harder and harder to find enough stuff to trade for one or two nights at Hamble Towers. The bicycle had been his last best trade.

"Have to do," said Theo.

He snatched his apartment keys and yanked open the front door. Luna was at the top of the stairs.

"Theo?"

Her eyes glanced down at the satchel. She knew what he had done.

"Why don't you stay home tonight?" she said, coming towards him.

Avoiding her gaze, he left the apartment door open for her.

"Theo, talk to me, please."

He slowly raised his eyes to her and saw the weariness in her skin, the tiredness in her face, the frailty in her bones.