TOMORROW: Trials of the Lost Swallows Chapter Two/Three

(I stuck two chapters together to make it more interesting. I didn't have long to check it over properly so there may be mistakes but hope you enjoy it! (: )

CHAPTER TWO

Mother had taken the afternoon off to prepare for dinner. A thin leg of lamb was placed in front of the two ravenous children, the vegetables and wine being served smelt as sweet as it looked. They would rarely drink the wine, neither were they frequently given such a huge portion of meat. Mother had saved the lamb for today as there was not likely to be a better occasion to indulge the children in such treats. That was because today was Father’s birthday and Mother, along with her children, had brought such a gentle atmosphere of warmth and love to the day, as that (along with the dinner) was all they could afford to give him.

Sitting down and cutting the meat, Matthew struggling to pour water into his mug, his hands were still too small to support the weight of the heavy jug. His sister beside him caught the jug before it could fall; Aurelia smiled down on her younger sibling and offered to cut his meat.

Mother only gave her daughter a half glass of the wine, as Mother would need the rest later. Aurelia sipped the liquid slowly, treasuring each drop, Mother watching sitting opposite, her eyes fixed on the two, as if her children would disappear if she dared look away for a second. She was to turn seventeen shortly,

Mother stopped herself from thinking beyond that because of the burning fear she buried inside, that they would take her too.

Aurelia dared not mention today’s fatal incident in the play court, it would only land Mother in more discomfort. She was bound to find out soon or later, now, however was not the best time.

"I Haven't seen Wolfgang around lately?" Mother began. Aurelia's eyes lit up in joy at her Mother's attempt to take away the tension. 

"His er... His grandmother's ill"

"Oh..." Mother simply said.

"I offered to bring some food to them later. If that's ok?" But Aurelia  didn't receive a reply. Mothers attempts stopped there. And now since all the other main topics of their days were too inappropriate for dinner talk, the conversations mainly focused on Matthew: the innocent and harmless candidate at the dinner table. Nonetheless being only six and the most clueless he raised his small mug and opened his mouth to say the words the other two dreaded to hear:

“Happy birthday Daddy.” He said grinning, the poor creature trying his best to lighten the atmosphere. All eyes fell onto the end of the table, where Father’s paper lay and glasses resting on top. Mother had always set his place for dinner, but no plate was ever needed…

Father had not been seen since the day before the virus hit, the day the soldiers came knocking at the door. A truck carrying at least 15 armed military men ordered Father to pack a small travel case and to leave his family to join not the Russian army but a greater army (as one of the soldiers had put it) “The Defending Republic of Nation’s Known Armies” better known as DRONKA. Aurelia could remember the fear rattling through her spine as he said it. DRONKA. There was something not right; who were these men? What army? How would they help with the virus, by then there were no cases of The Mindless, this was months before? The soldier also added that it was Father’s duty to protect mankind and that one male over the age of 17 in every house hold where to be part of this great growing force. However the solider did not explain what mankind needed defending from, neither did he say where Father was to be taken, when he was to return, what he was to be trained to fight against. Instead the soldiers marched back to their truck and drove off trailing with them a great cloud of earth and dust. Father left the next morning…

It has been five months and not a single word had been heard of him, that is why Mother stopped working out the house. But he was not the only one; most of the boys in the upper classes had been taken, along with most of their fathers. Aurelia  would meet Moley  by the river everyday after school, asking why they had not taken him as he had recently turned 17. But he would only shrug coldly and look away.

Mother continued her work as a launderette at home, that way the TV set was always in sight, always locked onto the news channel, in case any news of Father or this “army” would appear. So far nothing, Mother said it was as if all the men in the world had been taken and locked away forever. Mother had hope but as each day passed that hope began to fade, just like summer had...

CHAPTER THREE

A class of barely ten students took their seats just like any other day because today was to be no different. 

A stumpy woman with curled grey hair, tied back in a red scarf settled her class as a look of discomfort at the sight of the vast number of empty seats surrounding her. She knew why they were like so, she just dared not believe the true reason. But as her thin class looked upon her with all ten or so pairs of questioning eyes, penetrating the wall of which the truth was behind. The woman at the front of the classroom sighed deeply under her breath before clarifying to her pupils that half the children absent were not unwell however would not be returning back to the village.

“Laurente” the first name of the twelve children absent was read aloud.

“Eduard… Misha… Marko… Yuri… Aleksandr… Ganya… Galia… Igus… Gera… Kira... Aurelia...”

Moley’s eyes widened, with an unyielding glare, he watched his teacher the way a hawk would look upon a rat. He watched her intensively to clarify she had not made a mistake or miss pronounced a name. But she hadn’t, the list of names stood clear. The teacher continued with her lesson, as if there was no change but at least 90% of the class had just been given the news their best friends were missing and were to never be returned.

The names were written on the grimy board at the front, “Aurelia” was the last name scribbled on there with the grey chalk. Moley’s previous fixed state of melancholy quickly dissolved into a look of repugnance and rage as he arose from his seat, leaving his bag he sprinted to the exit, through the bare corridors, down the entrance steps to the bikes. 

 The bike would not carry him very fast as he raced through the tall pine trees and down the dusty road. With rage pumping through his veins and hope slowly disbanding from his heart the wind took his side as he rode through the valley; like a stag absconding from a wolfs bloody jaw. He flew faster than the wind beside, the trees bending over to watch as he did so. Even the mountains held their graceful breath as Moley jumped off the bike, sprinting to the door of Aurelia. A thunderous knock was sounded before it was to be opened by Mother. Mother’s eyes, tired and grey looked down slowly onto Moley, glumly. Moley, catching his breath, green eyes wide with apprehension and alarm did not awake Mother from her expression of dejection. She had now long given up pretending to be happy.

“Aurelia”, he panted, “Where’s Aurelia?” a long pause lingered over them while Mother pieced together her reply, halfheartedly. She struggled to find an explanation for her daughter’s disappearance as it was too much of a cold topic for her to dwell on. She feared she would not be able to say much before the depression and emotion stuck its feet in too deep, so she simply said:

“DRONKA Army”

 Moley had now reached the stage where he could not believe the events occurring. This was joke. The wind was still and the mountains frozen. The two of them looked upon each other for a while, figuring out the others emotions.

Moley stepped back from the door, as if it were cursed. Gaping up at the desiccating woman, in confusion whose face collapsed into despondency as Moley retrieved from the doorstep shaking his head slowly.

“No,” he mumbled, staggering backward, Mother watching from the door still.

“No” he protested, this time louder as he got back onto the bike. And before Mother could say anything, Moley was  speeding down the mountain valley, destination: Away. His mind felt as if it were to implode in the horror and confusion. Was this a dream? Aurelia taken? Of all the people? Why her? And it was at that moment he realised what he had lost. Aurelia meant more to him than moon and the stars put together, he needed her more than a flower would need the sunlight, he wanted her more than a crying child would want its mother, Aurelia since the age of four had been all he ever loved... but by the time he had realized this it was too late.

All that was left was the acid fury boiling in his chest. A promise broken...

He had made a promise to Wolfgang, not to take Aurelia… he had permission from Wolfgang to take everyone else, in agreement to spare Aurelia.

The road ended and only the fields and the cities beyond where to be seen. He threw the bike onto the ground and running up to the edge of the corn field, he let out the mighty roar that was growing within him, punching the air as he did so. 

His eyes darkened until the green turned to a deep purple while his eyebrows clenched and slowly hardened, like ravens wings, preparing to fly. The anger that he had always buried inside himself  was revealed onto the world through his insipid face. He was not a mole anymore…

He glared hard at the world in front of him, picking through the hell it was beginning to create.