Free A Town Called Dust: The Territory 1 by Justin Woolley

his face away. “My only family.”
    Walter took a moment before he spoke. “No one who treats you like that is family. During your training you will make the most loyal friends of your life. They will be your family.”
    “I’ve never had a friend before.”
    “I’m sure that’s only because you’ve never been given the chance.”
    Squid had seen other children playing Diggers and Ghouls at school, laughing and arguing. He had never really played, not like that anyway. He liked to count things instead. He liked to see how things worked. He liked to think the reason he didn’t have friends was because he’d never spent enough time with other children, but he knew the truth. He was different.
    “Don’t worry, Squid,” Lieutenant Walter said. “You’re going to be fine.”

CHAPTER 9
    The Administrator sat at the very obvious head of the council table. He looked down its length and eyed each of the men who sat along the sides. The twelve ministers of the Council of the Central Territory sat uncomfortably in their high-backed chairs, just as he preferred. Thirteen years ago he’d ordered a carpenter to re-shape the chairs so that no one would particularly want to sit in them. It still gave him immense satisfaction to watch the ministers squirm.
    Even in his late fifties the Administrator was a giant of a man, gruff of voice and more often than not unshaven. He had been handsome in his younger days, his thick crop of shining black hair filling the dreams of many young girls across the Territory. Now, though, his beard was turning gray and he had grown thick around the middle as his indulgences of late began to take their toll.
    Ocean Bourke, Minister for Health, raised himself to a standing position. “Your Honor,” he said, “I believe we were discussing the continuing problem of the Territory’s growing population. We are facing increasing food shortages both inside and outside of Alice and the Church has been complaining about the number of quarantine squads being dispatched to deal with breakouts of disease in the slums. It’s occurring almost weekly now and is only a matter of time until we face a plague within the walls. Something must be done; the size of the slums is out of control.”
    “Minister Bourke, I assure you, as I have assured the High Priestess, the problem with the growth of the slums will be dealt with,” the Administrator said. “But today there is only one matter this council must discuss. I have received word from the boundary riders that there has been a breach in the fence. There is a horde of ghouls inside the Territory.”
    There were low murmurs from around the table as the ministers looked at each other. It was Colonel Hermannsburg who voiced what they were all thinking.
    “How many?” he asked.
    The Administrator paused. “Early reports have estimated the number at ten thousand.”
     “Ten thousand!” Colonel Hermannsburg shouted. The Administrator had expected this reaction; Ancestors’ sin, he’d had the same reaction when he’d been told. That number was extraordinary. It must have been a mistake.
    “How is this possible?” Colonel Hermannsburg continued. “What about the early detection, the watchtowers, the patrols? How are the Diggers not aware of this?”
    “I assure you, Colonel, we are looking into it.” The voice that spoke was slow, as if the words had to slip out through a thick layer of oil, but the voice was not weak; each word was deliberate and demanded attention. This was the voice of Knox Soilwork, Chief Minister of the Central Territory, a man who had all but ruled the Territory in his own right as Acting Administrator when the Administrator himself had taken office at just eight years of age. Following the Administrator’s coming of age Knox Soilwork had been made Chief Minister and had held that position ever since. Despite being an old man, his hair white and his dark skin lined with deep wrinkles, no one in the Territory doubted the power