Cool World

Ellis Delmonte

Description

A genetic catastrophe has left the young in charge of a fallen world. Crumbling cities are organised into the School System run by Head Boy, Mason Shields. Adults, lost and alone, wander Subarbaria whilst the old are herded into desolate compounds. A brutal murder in one such compound is witnessed by two teenagers, Joshwa and Mree, who become both hunted and hunters, forced to battle powerful, ruthless enemies. Can they defeat the undefeatable and save humanity? Contains mature themes and scenes. Suitable only for ages 12 and above.

Informations

• Publié par: Hawkwood Books
• Date de parution: 24 janvier 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781908577115
• Langue: English

Extrait

Table of Contents
Title
Synopsis and Credits
1.i
1.ii
1.iii
1.iv
1.v
1.vi
1.vii
1.viii
1.ix
1.x
1.xi
1.xii
1.xiii
1.xiv
1.xv
1.xvi
1.xvii
2.i
2.ii
2.iii
2.iv
2.v
2.vi
2.vii
2.viii
2.ix
2.x
2.xi
2.xii
2.xiii
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
COOL WORLD Ellis J. Delmonte
Sharlot was the most beautiful creature Mason had ever known, bar one, and he was crazy about her. He wanted desperately to trust her, but didn’t. He trusted no one. He hardly trusted himself. There was this sense again of a secret power at work, undermining him. He was up to his neck in intrigue and he hadn’t done anything. A killing machine was out there wearing his colours and he knew nothing about it! He couldn’t plead ignorance, that would appear weak. Nobody would believe that he, a technical genius, wasn’t involved. He felt exposed, vulnerable.

A genetic catastrophe has destroyed society and children now run their failing cities under the School System led by an ambitious, clever and ruthless Head Boy. The mad live in Subarbaria and the old in dismal compounds. A terrible, inexplicable murder in one such compound triggers great changes and only two brave teenagers can save the world from chaos and oppression.

Cool World contains adult themes and scenes of violence.

Recommended ages 12 and over.
Not suitable for younger readers.


For Carole and Rowel Cool World
Text copyright©2009 Ellis J. Delmonte
Cover design©2009 Ian Purdy
All rights reserved

First Published 2009
Second Edition 2010
Revised Edition 2013

Epub Edition 2013 compiled with Jutoh
ISBN 978-1-908577-11-5

First Print Edition ISBN 978-0-9555096-5-0
Revised 2013 Print Edition ISBN: 978-1-908577-37-5

Conditions of Sale
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any means
without the permission of the publisher.



Hawkwood Books 2013
ONE: HEAD BOY
1.i
The Joyrider screeched to a grinding halt on the edge of the compound with a second bike a moment later kicking up a thick whirlwind of dust and stopping beside it. Two riders climbed off each, boys on one, girls on the other, the lead riders wearing jet black outfits with mirrored visors, the two passengers dull, undistinguished, probably borrowed gear. The boy in the black suit removed his helmet and looked around with contempt at the dismal scene and a moment later the black suited girl did the same, shaking loose a thick tangle of dark hair to reveal a stunningly beautiful face spoiled only by a trace of something resembling cruelty. Although only seventeen, she had an expression that seemed to know it all and was as contemptuous of the compound as the boy, grimacing at the unpleasant smells and turning up her collar as if it might afford some protection from the dust, dirt and decay.
The two passengers stood next to each other, much less confident, looking without evident contempt but with simple curiosity and perhaps a hint of compassion at the crumbling compound for the old, sick and dying. The boy immediately began working on the assignment, ticking boxes on his clipboard, aiming to impress the two prefects.
“Buildings mostly collapsed,” he said, “rubbish strewn around perimeter, air quality… ”
The black suited rider turned to him and with supreme arrogance said, “No need to recite chapter and verse Joshwa, just do the job and put a cap on the tour guide bit.”
Joshwa went red, more with humiliation than anger; that was the first thing Nathan had said to him. The journey out from the city had been a silent one. Mree saw his embarassment and came over to help with the assignment sheet.
“This is what it’s supposed to be like,” said Nathan. “Their lives are over and if they can’t hack it here they should die, the sooner the better.”
The black suited girl pointed at an old woman hobbling around, trying to attach some clothes to a drooping line even though rain had started to fall.
“Stupid old crone,” the girl muttered.
Mree, like Joshwa, had been taught that the old were best seen and not heard but she still reacted instinctively and said, “Do you have to be so harsh, Sharlot?”
Sharlot turned and gave Mree a fierce look that said, “Don’t you dare criticise me!” She and Nathan were the prefects here, Mree and Joshwa of no standing at all. Mree could not hold the older girl’s stare and looked away. Something about Sharlot unsettled her, just as something about Nathan unsettled Joshwa. Sharlot looked away too, studying the compound with an unfathomable expression.
“Get the information down,” she ordered. “The quicker we’re done the quicker we can go.”
“We’ve got the interv…” Mree started to say but Sharlot turned on her again and whispered, “We know what we’ve got to do. Stop offering advice that isn’t wanted and get the job done. This place gives me the creeps.”
It didn’t give Joshwa or Mree the creeps, but it was an unsettling sight, old, dry ruins home to an old, dry humanity.
The compound was reserved for the over-seventies, and like a hundred others spread across the country it was condemned either for consuming precious resources, which it didn’t or for contributing nothing when it was forbidden to contribute anything. The Heads of Houses and prefects were all too namby pamby, but things were changing and their spinelessness would soon become irrelevant. Mission underway.
They walked around a little, Nathan and Sharlot with more purpose than the other two, even though the assignment made no mention of any specific location for the interview. Mree and Joshwa filled in their report sheet, trying to fight a growing unease at what they saw, even though it was as they’d been taught, the natural way of things.
It hadn’t always been like this. Greyhairs had once ruled but lost the Earth. Two things had happened.
First, humanity changed. No one knew for certain why, though they guessed something, somehow had crept into the human genome and altered it. Whatever the origin, the effect was clear - as people grew older, they suffered huge lapses of memory and skills until there was nothing left but a shell of what once had made them human. It happened first to the old, then to those in their fifties, forties, thirties and even twenties until the human race was nothing more than the trappings of youth. Those affected left their homes and vanished into what became Subarbaria, living in a state of increasing degeneration until, if they lived, an Indian Summer brought them back to their senses. By then, though, they were simply Greyhairs, good for nothing except to be compounded.
Second, those who were left, as young as they were, took control, shaping the new order through what they knew best and hated most - schools. The School System organized life for the young from cradle to rave - not grave, rave. The world was at last a truly cool place to live.
Assignments to compounds were rare; no one wanted to go and there was no reason for going. Mree and Joshwa had been surprised to receive a call from the office of Head Boy asking them to join two prefects on this assignment. They considered it a privilege to be chosen. Their leaders, Nathan and Sharlot, didn’t seem particularly enamoured either with the assignment or with them and refused to talk, other than to each other, and even then in whispers.
It was probably safe but it was certainly unpleasant, this unsterile world of the compound. There was no infrastructure, as there was in the cities where children lived. The poor lost souls who had drifted from Subarbaria to this compound could hardly be expected to recreate what civilisation had taken centuries to build. There was not even a simple sewage system, only primitive toilets and a repulsive stench which drifted towards the visitors.
“Why do they want us to do this?” Mree asked. “I mean I don’t mind,” she added, not wanting to seem ungrateful for being selected, “but I just wondered….”
As soon as she said it she wished she hadn’t. She and Joshwa had been picked to help the two prefects and it was a great opportunity to impress. However, neither Joshwa nor Mree felt comfortable with them, both of whom were intimidating. The point of the assignment was to examine the compound and to carry out a single interview in a randomly chosen home for an article in a magazine.
“Don’t wonder,” said Nathan, “and don’t ask stupid questions. Let’s get it over with as quickly as possible. Take that house,” he said, pointing to a hovel held together more by dirt than mortar. They stepped over rubble and waste to reach the door and knocked. Stumbling sounds inside. An old woman appeared, staring at them belligerently. Mree and Joshwa felt awkward but Nathan evidently did not.
“We’re prefects,” he said, “come to ask you some questions. Step aside.”
The old woman muttered a few words under her breath but moved back. The four went in. They’d never imagined, let alone entered a compound home and so had seen nothing like this. The decrepit couple had too little energy to keep anything resembling good order. Even Mree and Joshwa, fighting against deeper and better instincts, were put off by what they saw and smelt, particularly a sickly sweet aroma which made them gag. The only things that thrived in the tiny, crowded rooms of this truly broken home were mites and spiders. You could feel them even if you couldn’t see them. There was no heating, just an old-fashioned fire place which looked as if it hadn’t been lit for years. Lying in the ashes was a rusting poker.
Almost as still as the ashes, an old man was standing by the fireplace, watching with rheumy eyes. The woman stood beside him. Mree shivered. Her enthusiasm was waning and she longed to get out and back to her creature comforts.
“We’ve a few questions,” said Joshwa. “I hope you…”
“Just ask,” said Nathan, impatiently.
The old man moved hesitantly to sit on a torn and faded brown leather armchair but Nathan was in the way. He could have moved but didn’t, just stood