Divided Worlds Trilogy 01 - Disconnect by Imran Siddiq Page A

out of a pit, and charged forward. Hurdling off a mound, he lunged and hauled the thief down.
    Blood leaked from Horatio’s mouth. Hands up, he pleaded, “I’m sorry, boy, I’m sorry. I needed the money.”
    Zachary showed the spread of black fluid on his palm. “I needed that to talk to her. It was my Raptor. She gave it to me. You had no right to take it. That’s not how we take things. That’s not how we scavenge. We don’t steal.” He snatched Horatio’s collar. “You heard her. You must have heard her. She’s worried. She was trying to help me. To help all of us. Do you understand what you’ve done?”
    Horatio’s eyes showed the shame of a man lost for words.
    “It’s broken. What will I do now?” cried Zachary.
    Horatio lowered his arms, and turned his face as if he expected a hard boot to crack his jaw. Eyes closed, he inhaled.
    Zachary stepped away from him.
    Unlike the raging anger filling his muscles, sympathy sifted into his thoughts. He saw a man who’d taken notice of the warning sheets. A man who was prepared to make the journey across the Districts with whatever he could carry. At a time of desperation, Horatio had seen an object worth enough to aid a new life someplace else.
    Zachary pressed the tight ache above his heart. Everything felt empty inside. “Get out of here.”
    The slope swallowed Zachary’s legs several times as he climbed the cliff. Once over the jagged edge, he headed to Shantytown, all the time caressing the pocket containing the Raptor.
    A deep, bellowing horn reverberated in the direction of the Far-Wall. That was new, and unexpected. For several seconds it seemed to change direction as if sweeping along the end point of District Two. Residents began to assemble around the northern side of the town. Zachary eyed the ground vents that were usually misty, and then looked upward, noticing that the giant ceiling fans had stopped. Something was wrong.
    A man leaned out of his doorway three storeys up, and clanged a pan against a standing pole. “I can’t believe it. They’ve done it! The Far-Wallers have done it!”
    “They broke through?” came a voice within the crowd.
    “Aye! The highest crack in the Far-Wall that I’ve ever seen,” laughed the man. “There’ll be fresh air coming our way, and you know what else? I bet they’ll find new lines of electricity.” He folded his arms, holding his chin aloft. “Don’t know about you, but I’m not planning on leaving now.”
    “I’m with you,” said another voice.
    Chugging wind resonated from the Far-Wall.
    Zachary squeezed through the crowd, knowing that the blockages his dad worked on shouldn’t have affected the fans above them. If anything, the fans should be turning faster.
    Mechanical gears clicked through the loudening chugs. Then, a long drawn screech made him and others cover their ears. A thin line of light split the wall from top to bottom. More clicking and the obvious turning of a cog hitting hard components echoed through the District. The split line widened.
    Zachary gulped. Legends described a treasure trove of rich pipes and ancient machinery lying beyond the wall. What had the Far-Wallers uncovered?
    His eyelids fluttered. Could this be connected to the so-called negotiations?
    “Get back,” cried Zachary, turning to face the eager crowd. A hand swiped him aside. People pushed onward.
    “It’s a trap.” Zachary grabbed a burly man’s bare arm.
    “What you talking about?” rasped the man. “We’ve discovered new land. That light’s the secret power grid that was meant to be used here.”
    Zachary watched the light in the wide area return to almost darkness.
    Rapid hissing noises followed by screams stole everybody’s attention.
    “What’s going on out there?” yelled the burly man.
    The man from the three-storey home peered forward. “I’m not sure. I think they’re bringing something out.”
    Zachary climbed the pole next to the nearby home. A dozen figures walked out of the