Free Viridian by Susan Gates Page A

had been taken from him, forever.
    Jay had only taken a few steps, when another thought hit him. He rushed back to the trap door and called into the dark, ‘The door’s open. You can just climb out of there!’
    He looked down. He couldn’t see Teal’s torch beam any more. But there was a weak shaft of light from the open trap door that slanted down to the cave floor. Jay could see some prisoners standing in the patch of light, their blank faces staring up.
    â€˜You can be free!’ Jay called to them. But they didn’t seem to understand what he was saying.
    Sighing, Jay started off again. At least one question was settled. If he had the choice, which he didn’t, he wouldn’t want to be Verdan. And definitely not a Cultivar. Not after he’d seen how they treated their prisoners.
    He headed for the town hall towers. He didn’t see any need to hide – an Immune didn’t look different from any other human. But, at the same time, it’d be stupid to draw attention to himself. So when he got to a housing estate he kept a low profile, sneaked down back alleys full of wheelie bins. Accidentally he turned into a main street. He was about to duck back when he realized that there was no-one here.
    The estate was like a ghost town. Every house seemed abandoned. Every garden was a wasteland of withered weeds.
    Where is everyone?
Jay thought.
    Doors and windows were wide open. And, wherever the people were, they hadn’t gone by car. There were cars everywhere, in driveways, on the streets, even in the middle of the road. Jay peered into the open door of a four-wheel drive. Moss was growing on the seats, grass sprouting from the carpets. Bright green algae had invaded all the window and door seals.
    Jay wandered into a house, through the open door. ‘Hello!’ he yelled. ‘Anybody home?’ His voice echoed eerily through the silent house. No-one replied.
    Everything had just been left, as if Verdans had no use for all their previous possessions. There was an open laptop, its screen covered in dust. Jay tried to power it up. The screen stayed grey and lifeless.
    He tried switching on the television, then the light – there was no electricity. He picked up their home phone. The line was dead. He turned on the taps. Dry gravel trickled out.
    He wandered back into the living room, and wrote his name on a gritty table top, just to reassure himself he still existed.
    He picked up a grey hoodie, thrown over a chair. It didn’t feel like stealing; Verdans didn’t need this stuff any more. It was far too big for him. But that was good. Jay tugged thehood over his face, let the sleeves dangle over his hands to hide his skin colour.
    He probably didn’t need to do this. Just being human wasn’t a crime, was it? But somehow, he felt better disguised.
    Jay tramped upstairs. Maybe there was something else he could use. He found a mobile and tried to turn it on, but it was dead too. Jay threw it back on the bed in disgust.
    His guts clenched in panic at a sudden sound in all this deathly silence. A sort of whining noise, from downstairs. Cautiously Jay crept to the top of the stairs, looked down. A scruffy little dog was standing in the open front door.
    â€˜Hey, boy!’ said Jay, relieved. He went clattering down, pleased to find another creature that hadn’t got the virus.
    Jay sat down on the doorstep, scratched the small, scrawny terrier behind its ears.
    â€˜Hey, boy,’ said Jay again, as the dog whined and licked his hands. ‘Did you live in this house?’
    He’d probably been the family pet. But now his fur was matted and tangled with sticky burrs and twigs. It looked like the Verdans had walked away from their pets as well. It didn’t take a genius to work out why.
    â€˜You’re an animal, a Polluter like me,’ said Jay. And, in the new Paradise on Earth, there was no room for dirty Polluters.
    Jay told the dog,