Empty

'The Initus Mortuis, (Nicknamed 'empty') are found all over the country, and have existed since approximately the 2030s. Their origins are unknown.

'They are exceptionally capable of hiding their true intentions until attack, but can be distinguished from humans in several ways, including pale skin, dark shadows, black veins arching across neck and wrists. The latter can be hidden for extended periods of time.

'If seen, kill on sight.'

It was always the same on Wednesdays.

Quinn MacMillan looked up from her survival test with a groan.

She re-read the first question. 'Name three ways to differentiate between an empty (Intus Mortuis) and a human being (Homo Sapien) at a reasonable distance.'

It didn't matter. Nobody ever used the stuff they learned anymore. Not for a few decades, anyway. It was pointless trying to memorize it all.

She hoped whoever had invented quizzes had died a painful death.

From the opposite end of the classroom, she saw Luke Michaels, a tall boy with curly black hair, feed his paper into the grading machine only to have it spat back out at him after barely a second. Funny, he was usually the one to leave the classroom boasting about how easy the tests had been. At least she wasn't the only one struggling.

Leaning forwards in her chair, she checked that no one was watching before switching her watch on under the table. It was an old eWatch that her friend had found in the scrapyard and repaired a few months back.

Glancing around a final time, she typed the test name into it. Grade 3; test 4.

The answers came up immediately and she copied them down, cautious to leave a few empty spaces and cross a few answers out. She had to be careful. She'd done it enough times to know not to give herself too high a score. Eighty-six percent was more than enough.

As she put down her pen, a text came over the screen.

'Meet me later. Usual time, usual place. A.' She clicked receive and barely a second later another one came up. 'PS; Please tell me you aren't cheating on another test.'

She rolled her eyes and turned it off. Adam was usually the first to preach about cheating. It was ironic, given the circumstances. He'd never taken a test in his life. Although, thinking about it, he'd probably enjoy them.

Nobody else had finished apparently. Luke had taken up his paper again and was scribbling furiously. The boy next to him was turning the paper over nervously. His expression was somewhere between confused and terrified. Mustn't have revised properly. Granted, she hadn't revised either, but still. At least she'd put some effort into getting the right answers.

"Put down your pens and pencils, and hand in your papers," a robotic monotone commanded over the speakers.

She saw a percentage flash up on screen and wrote it noncommittally next to her name. Eighty-six percent. Top of the class again.

Strong wind blew her messy red hair up into her mouth almost as soon as she stepped outside. It was November, so that at least was to be expected.

Outside of the school grounds she noticed Emma Green sobbing into her palms. She always cried after tests. She hated them more than anything. It was considered good for her to get ten percent.

Still, she seemed a lot more upset than usual today. Quinn was just considering going to console her, but then, to her relief, she saw Emma's best friend - a tall, dark-skinned girl called Avery - come up to her. Thank God for that, she'd never been much of a comforting person. She never knew what to say.

It was starting to rain again. Making her way through the street hurriedly, really wishing she'd brought a coat with her, she saw her friend Jem Connor kicking his worn brown football onto the roof.

Football had been banned outside of official grounds a few months back to limit injuries, but it didn't bother Jem that it was illegal. It was probably the only reason why he'd be outside in this kind of weather.

He made a particularly difficult catch on his ankle he turned to see her watching him. "Waiting for an autograph?" He asked her, tilting his head.

"You wish," she responded. "Easy, anyway."

"Go on then," he grinned, kicking the ball at her. Without missing a beat, she caught it on the side of her foot and kicked it back at him. They only did athletics outside of shooting once a fortnight, but she was good at it.

"Impressive," he muttered, catching it again. "Still, bet I can beat you easy."

"I'd love to take you up on that, but there's no net," she pointed out.

"Roof's more of a challenge."

"A challenge? Seriously? Against you nothing's a challenge."

"Screw you," he said, kicking the ball into the air and catching it deftly in one hand. "Hey, have you got any food? I left my lunch at home and it's a long walk back. I feel like I'm gonna faint."

"Sure," she replied, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a couple of candy bars of some kind. She handed one to him and took one herself. "But you owe me tomorrow."

Unwrapping it, he tossed the wrapper over his shoulder and started to walk with her towards the gate.

"Are you gonna pick that up?" She heard a dull voice say from behind her and turned around to see Luke Michaels, one of the prefects. He was holding a red electronic clipboard to his chest, which he always used to report the names of anybody who was so much as breathing incorrectly so he could report them to a higher authority.

Jem frowned and looked at his feet. "Good to see you too, Michaels."

Luke didn't look at him, but turned to Quinn. He was much taller than her, so he'd always be looking down on her no matter what. His dark hair was always brushed back and parted in an attempt to look neat, but she could tell that naturally it didn't sit like that. "The last thing we need is this place filling up with trash."

"Well, the bell rang five minutes ago.

If you're really worried, you can leave." Quinn knelt over to pick up the wrapper before it could blow away. She crumpled it up in her hand.

"What?" He paused, looking confused. Then he realised. "Oh yeah, right. You're hilarious, you know that?"

"I do, but it's always nice to be reminded." She smiled at him and tossed the wrapper at his head.

It hit him and bounced off, before being picked up by the wind again and blowing into the gutter.

His expression didn't change. "You know what? I'm just gonna put you down for detention tomorrow and leave it at that."

Jem glared at him and for a moment she was worried he was going to hit him. She knew that Luke would probably love having something else to report them both for. Thankfully, he seemed to be able to restrain himself.

Luke typed something into his clipboard and turned back to the school. They watched him go, before turning to leave.

"He wouldn't get away with stuff like that outside of here," Jem growled, looking up at the security cameras which hung just above the gate. "One of these days, I swear..."

"Yeah, sure you will, buddy." She patted his shoulder in an attempt to diffuse the situation. "Anyway, are you good to go home now? It's just, it's raining and I have places to be."

Jem nodded and they said their goodbyes. As far as her town went, Jem was okay. Most other people just walked around like zombies. Worse than zombies, at least zombies must have been good company once upon a time. As it started to rain, she pulled her hoodie up over her head. It didn't do anything. She should've brought a coat.

Adam was already outside when she arrived at the scrapyard. Since they were eight they'd met up there every day. She'd known him longer than anybody else in the town, and trusted him more than anybody else.

He had set up a blue tarpaulin on four rusty poles which the wind threatened to blow right away and was sat on the floor, screwing a bolt into something square and plastic.

"Hey Addie," She said, dropping her heavy bag on the floor.

"Sorry, just... Just give me one second..." He didn’t look away from his work for a few seconds, and continued tightening the bolt. She didn't interrupt him. Then he looked up at her. "Good day?"

"Yeah, not bad," she replied. "But, you know, tests and rain." She stuck her hand out of the tarpaulin and in a second her sleeve was soaked. "Go together, don't they? Not that you'd know."

He jumped to his feet. "Can-Shall I show you what I've been working on?" He stuttered, rushing to put the rest of the wires and melted plastic out of the way.

Quinn nodded, realising he wanted to change the subject. He had a weird phobia of school. And public. And people in general. She didn't see any point in bringing it up. Introverts didn't change.

It felt awful to admit, but he didn't seem to be the sort who would be exactly well-liked.

He was one of the shyest people she knew, with large glasses and a book surgically glued to his arm at all times. He stuttered when he was nervous - which was always - and to top it all off, he was clumsy as well, constantly tripping up and walking into things.

He would get eaten alive. He may as well have had the word "Target" tattooed across his forehead. He was okay to talk to though.

He handed her the plastic case and told her to open it. Cautiously, she prodded it. No reaction. Glancing at Adam, she prised the lid open.

Suddenly, a surge of bright blue flames burst from within it. She could feel the heat radiating from it and she jumped back barely a second too soon. Swearing loudly, she watched in shock as fire licked over the sides of the table, catching the ground around it on fire. To her surprise, Adam took a step forward and started to laugh.

Reaching over, he closed the lid and as he did the fire seemed to bend around his fingers. Then, with the sound of water going down a plughole, the flames were sucked back into the box.

"Fireproof fire," he said with a satisfied smile. "Impossible for it to catch anything alight. It cools down as soon as it comes into contact with organic matter. I have a whole box of matches for this thing, I can keep it running for days."

"What's the point?" Quinn asked him, more than a little irritated.

"Green energy," he told her. "Virtually every fuel source so far either contributes to global warming or is completely determinant on specific situations. So long as this can be produced it is completely safe." He put the box into his green rucksack.

"It-It's not particularly powerful right now."

"How powerful is it?"

"Roughly enough to heat a small can of soup," he replied. "But, you know. I'll keep working on it."

"Sounds like a hell of a campfire," she muttered.

"Well, give me time. I've not exactly got the best materials so far. Just whatever gets thrown out, so most of it's not great."

"Okay," she agreed. "It is kind of cool. Awesome really. Just totally pointless." She took the case back out of his bag and turned it over, looking for a trapdoor or something. Nothing. It really was fireproof fire. How was that even possible? "So, can we go inside now?" She asked. "It's freezing today."

"Sure," he replied, fastening it up again in the bag. His hair strayed messily into his eyes and his face was so pale and ashen that it was practically white by that point. It might have been the cold, or maybe it was just his usual 'Haven't slept in weeks' style. Knowing him, he'd probably been out all day. "How was your test?" He asked her lightly, but there was an edge to his voice.

"How did you know?" She grinned.

"Well, I sent an email and you clicked receive." He took out his own phone and showed her where it said 'Email received; 12:04' in the corner of the screen.

"You'll get caught one of these days," he cautioned her. "What about oral exams?"

"We don't do orals anymore." That at least was true. There was no signal. The microphones in the graders hadn't been able to get a decent recording. "Besides, I could always write it on my hand or something. Stupid computer can't tell the difference."

"You'll get caught," he repeated.

"Says you!" She laughed. "Seriously, you should come with me one day. You could help me out. It'd beat sitting out here by yourself every day."

Adam bent over to pick up his bag hastily, bumping his head on the table as he did. "No can do. I-I'm allergic."

"Oh yeah? What to?"

"People?"

"Shut up." She picked up her bag too and swung it over her shoulder. "I know you. You practically had a heart attack last time I mentioned it."

Adam shrugged, and she knew the conversation was over. It was almost selfish of him. Nobody she knew particularly liked the new regime, but at least they showed up. She handed him one of the candy bars and he took it hesitantly. She opened up her own and crumpled the wrapper in her hand before dropping it carelessly.

"Are you gonna pick that up?"

Quinn gestured vaguely at the scrapyard, which was only a few metres away from them. "Are you serious?"

"Plastic and aluminium. You know how much plastic there is on the planet?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't you start."

He gestured at a pile of waste that he'd heaped on his desk, most of which had already been charred or melted. "At least put it in the pile so I can use it for something else."

She did as he said and leaned back on the desk, exhausted. She'd only met him by chance. One day, when she was eight, she'd taken a wrong turn and ended up on the outskirts of town and had met him there. He'd shown her some of his experiments and she'd given him some of the food from her lunchbox, promising to try and stop by again the following day. His house was only a street away from the scrapyard, so if he wasn't there he was usually in his house. Eventually it became a sort of routine.

She should have reported him the first day and let him be given a home and enrolled in one of the schools in her district, but something about the way he reacted whenever she mentioned it made her hesitate every time. He acted like there was a real danger.

Still 'Caution is key.' That was what they all said. Everyone at school said it. It was on ten-foot posters over the apartments. That their motto. They were supposed to live in fear. Just in preparation in case they attacked.