Free Ruin (The Ruin Saga Book 1) by Harry Manners

other people who spoke strangely; where there would be more boys and girls for her to be friends with, thousands of them, and they could start again; and there would be food there—all the food they could eat.
    “And we’re going now?”
    “Yes.”
    She purred, settling into his coat. “I like that story,” she said.
    Don frowned, but let it pass. It was all still a mere fiction to her. He decided to keep the truth close to the chest for a little while longer. At least there would be no disappointment in store for her if the tale turned out to be a fantasy after all.
    The old man rowed for a long time, his arms moving back and forth hypnotically. Father and daughter watched him from their heap in the bow as the land shrank upon the horizon. Meanwhile, darkness drained from the sky and the clouds blossomed from grey whiskers to enormous, fire-red streaks.
    Billy soon fell asleep. From then on, Don divided his time between watching her slumber and staring out at the far distance. It was another hour before he felt strong enough to sit beside the old man and take an oar again.
    In the back of his mind he knew how far they had still to go, and was equally disheartened each time he remembered it. Occasionally, the old man brought out a rusted compass and consulted their grubby map, and the two of them would correct their course.
    Hour after hour passed, during which time the two of them rowed, rested, ate and drank. By the time the cliffs disappeared, the sun had clawed a fair way into the sky, bathing the boat in soft light. The tiny, prickling warmth upon their skin provided just enough of a boost to keep them moving. Billy slept while they rowed well into the day. All the while the boat crawled along, heading into unknown waters, carrying them away from their homeland.

SECOND INTERLUDE

     
    When Alex finally returned home, the fires had begun to extinguish themselves. The sound of the door slamming shut behind him was deafening. Before he’d even taken a single glance around, he was sure the house was as much a tomb as the world outside.
    The dog emerged from its bed under the stairs and nuzzled his hand, whining. His heart almost broke at the sight of her—a companion. He sat against the wall facing the living room and allowed her to lick his face, whimpering at the contact. The tears finally came then, and he cried there beside his mother’s wilted ficus tree, holding the mutt to his side. The hallway swam before him, but still his gaze was drawn to the kitchen, where he was sure his family had sat not an hour before.
    He didn’t bother to call out. They were gone.
    Once his shuddering cries had abated and his cheeks had dried, he struggled to the living room and fell into his father’s chair. He hesitated for a moment, keeping his gaze on the carpet until he felt strong enough to look at the brightly wrapped gifts waiting upon the mantelpiece.
    They had been presents, early gifts for exams not yet passed. His parents had surprised him that morning, promising that he’d be opening them later that day. His father had ignored his protests—Alex had repeatedly insisted that it was entirely possible that he’d fail—and laid a firm hand on his shoulder. Alex had looked into his kind eyes and let his father’s words crash over him: “Alex, some men have to put in the hours. They have to fight for everything they get. Men like me. But other men have something different, something else on their side. Some men have a destiny. And you got that, boy. You got that in spades.”
    Alex’s throat constricted at the recollection. He would never hear that voice again, nor his mother’s or sister’s. The truth was beginning to sink in: They were gone , gone , vanished into thin air along with everybody he had ever known. The entire world had been pulled out from under him.
    He continued to stare at the gifts, until the intricate spots and swirls of the wrapping paper were burned onto his retinas and he lost track of time.