The Wheel: A Young Adult Dystopian Novel (Nightfall Book 1) by Cynthia Hickey (new books to read .TXT) 📕

we had the day before, Fawke led us through tunnels deep underground. Cement walls curved over our heads. An iron rail stretched in both directions at our feet. Dirty water dripped down the sides.The only light came from cracks in the surface above us.

“You walk in the middle,” Kira said.

“No, as leader, I’ll walk behind Fawke.” I set my chin. “We’re equals now. I won’t be any more protected than the rest of you. I’d go ahead if I knew the way.”

The others fell back without argument. I ducked my head to hide my smile. I could get used to ushering orders. As the only child, I’d never had anyone to boss around before.

“Don’t get too big of a head,” Fawke whispered. “They may act obedient, but they’ll rebel if they feel strongly enough against something you want.”

“I’ll remember that.”

He put his finger to his lips, silently telling me no more talking.

The sound of scrapes, wails, and grunts came from every dark hole in the wall we passed but nothing charged us. I peered into the blackness, spotting the glow of greenish eyes on occasion. I wanted to ask whether the Malignants and us were really the only living things left in the city.

We’d formed a community of sorts on the other side of the wall. The city looked large and spread out from the sky. What if others had found refuge somewhere, too? Surely, Soriah hadn’t been the only survivors of the earth’s devastation. When the bombs had exploded, spreading disease and fear, others could have been separated from those left in Soriah. The planet was a big place according to the few books I’d seen.

Fawke stopped and turned left, heading up a set of rickety metal steps. He held up his fist to stop us, then stepped outside. After a few seconds, he waved us forward.

I squinted against the tepid glare of the pale daylight and pulled the goggles I’d brought with me into place. They’d provide protection from whatever particles the wind stirred up and, hopefully, keep my vision clear for fighting. I swallowed against a dry throat and glanced around.

We’d stepped into a space between tall buildings, something that might have once been pretty with trees and flowers, maybe a water fountain like I’d seen in a book once. A place too small for any flying aircraft to land, though. I didn’t think it large enough for a person to jump and land with any accuracy. Overhead, a wooden crate attached to a white chute floated in our direction. The plane that had dropped it already gone.

I pulled my sword from its scabbard. The blood on my face and neck had dried and cracked, making my skin itch. Kira might complain about the use of water, but I had barely any skin showing and could only pray I stunk enough to keep the Malignants away.

The crate landed with a thud. Still nobody moved.

“What are you waiting for?” I whispered.

“I’m wondering whether we’ll give up our cover if we take the box. The Malignants have no need for our food and water. They’re scavengers, preferring dead over alive. They kill us and let us rot before they feast on our carcass.” Fawke shook his head. “Something’s wrong. It’s too quiet.”

“They’re confused,” Gage said. “They know we should be here, but they can’t smell us. We should take the crate and run back into the safety of the tunnels.”

“Safety or a trap?” Ezra sneered.

Before we could speculate further, Dante pushed past us, grabbed the box and hefted it on his shoulders. As if on cue, a dozen Malignants sprinted from the buildings around us.

“Don’t just stand there!” Dante raced past us. “Run.”

We didn’t have to be told twice. We turned and ran, our steps thundering down the steel steps and back into the tunnel. Fawke again took the lead, ducking into the first small tunnel that branched off the main one. We stood there, barely breathing, while Malignants milled around just a few feet away. Now that we weren’t in sight, we’d confused them again. I couldn’t stop a grin from spreading across my face. My plan had worked.

Once our predators gave up and left the tunnel, we slipped from our hiding place and headed home. My steps were lighter than they’d been since spinning that cursed wheel. Maybe I had leadership qualities after all. Me. Crynn Dayholt, barely eighteen-years-old, leader of a group of warriors.

When we arrived at what we called home, I got pats on the back. Even Kira smiled as she handed out wet rags for us to wash with. I knew the Malignants would eventually figure out our ploy, but I’d enjoy the warm feeling of success while I could.

Because of his bravery or stupidity, whichever way one wanted to view his actions, Dante got the privilege of opening the crate. “More water sanitizer.” He held up a bottle of silver liquid, his dark eyes settling on me. “Do not drink any water that hasn’t been boiled or had three drops of this added, Boss. You’ll die very painfully within minutes.” His teeth flashed bright against his dark skin.

“I’ve some tablets in my pack,” I offered.

He pulled out foil packets of food and a…chocolate bar? I hadn’t enjoyed chocolate since Christmas morning three years ago.

Dante divided it into eight pieces and handed each of us a piece that had turned chalky. “It’s old, but it’s better than nothing.”

I agreed. “You get the extra piece for snatching the crate. Don’t act without unanimous agreement again, though. We can’t afford to lose a seasoned fighter.” I popped the piece of candy into my mouth and closed my eyes as the blissful taste of chocolate filled my mouth. “Where did they find this?”

“Who knows and who cares?” Gage laughed. “Every once in a while we get a little luxury