Page 10 of Rebel Rising: A Dystopian Romance

I looked at Taylor and sighed. "We probably should have tried pushing it before breaking it," I joked as he grinned at me

The hinges squealed in protest after years of immobility and the door stopped moving half way open.

"I don't see any ID screens or scanners or anything," I commented.

"But there could have been anyone out here. They wouldn't have even been able to tell until they opened the door. I could be an axe murderer come to kill them," Taylor said indignantly.

“The wonders of modern technology; axe murderer deaths must have halved overnight when the scanners came along." I grinned and moved cautiously towards the building again.

This time I pushed on the door itself and it swung inward without further protest.

It revealed a hallway with more doors on either side and a staircase leading up to the next level. I approached the first door on the left of the hall and it swung open easily.

"Look at this," Taylor called from the front door. "It was locked." From this side of the door it was clear that it had been forced open at some point. The frame was splintered and shattered and the metal bolt on the lock was bent out of shape. A chill ran down my spine as I thought about what that meant.

"I suppose they had to be sure everyone made it out safely before they poisoned everything," I said slowly, hoping I was right about that.

Splinters from the broken wood littered the floor and a small table was knocked aside, blocking the hallway. Its contents were scattered across the carpet.

I continued into the next room, stepping over the broken remains of a table lamp. Glass crunched beneath my boots.

The room was big and spacious. Cupboards topped with smooth counters lined the walls but the centre of the room was empty. A round table was pushed into one corner with four chairs placed around it haphazardly, one of them laying on its side on the floor. I moved further inside slowly. I had the strangest sense that someone had just left the room despite the clear evidence to the contrary.

The wall that ran along the front of the house held a huge window which looked back out towards the street. There was a stainless steel sink beneath the window and I walked towards it. It was filled with plates and cups coated in a layer of brown sludge and I wrinkled my nose at the unappealing sight.

Thick dust coated everything, deadening every sound I made and making the place eerily quiet, my movements created a muffled crunching. It felt like I had a pillow pressed over my ears.

I moved around the room, opening cupboard doors, pulling out boxes and tins and placing them on the counter.

"So you think it's okay that they busted into people's houses even if they didn't want to leave?" Taylor asked, following me.

"I dunno T, but if the place was being poisoned they wouldn't really get a choice would they?"

He stopped to survey the room as I tugged at a ring-pull on the top of a can. The label had deteriorated to the point that I couldn't read it but the can itself had stayed sealed.

"What is it?" Taylor asked, peering over my shoulder at the contents of the can as I poured it onto the counter. A handful of glistening yellow sweetcorn tumbled out in a river of juice. It looked good enough to eat.

"Dare you to try some." I shook the can at him.

“I would, but unfortunately I'm not allowed to take my helmet off," he said, rapping his fingers against his visor.

"That's handy," I said, turning away from the mess I'd made.

"Wait a minute, where's the bed?" Taylor asked abruptly, turning on the spot to take in the whole room.

“I don't think there is one," I said.

“Did they sleep on the floor then?" He was moving the chairs aside as if they were somehow concealing it.

“I don't think so."

Taylor stood up straight and moved to the counter by the window.

“What is this stuff?" He picked up a box that I had taken from a cupboard and shook it, listening to the satisfying rattle.

“More food, I think. Look, there's a picture of a kid eating on the front." He turned the box over to look at the faded picture.

"But this is enough food for weeks," he said pointing around at the stash.