~Prologue~

The blazing heat of the afternoon sun beat down upon his skin and the meadow grass beneath him tickled the back of his neck as a gentle breeze danced along the rolling hills. He stared up at the clusters of clouds dotted across the clear sky, studying their intricate shapes and patterns as they drifted peacefully overhead. Imagination rushed into him and the flooding sensation of flying and soaring up into those soft and welcoming clouds filled his mind. He felt his body leave the rough earth and wind rush up underneath him, rising steadily higher and higher, enjoying the feeling of air passing through his fingers as his thoughts wandered across the vast countryside…

There came an angry shout and the boy’s mind snapped back to reality, losing his balance and falling back onto the hard ground once more. He sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his now aching head, and looked around for the source of the noise. His spirits sank as his eyes caught sight of the tall, older woman racing up the hill toward him. She was a beautiful lady; her slender form wrapped in a laced forest green dress, covered partially by a cooking apron as her long, dark midnight hair swayed in the hot summer breeze. She carried a large woven laundry basket under one arm as she stormed up the hill, and once close enough she caught the boy’s gaze with her own. 

Though harsh and glaring, her brilliant eyes shown with a dozen polished emeralds as they twinkled with hope and reassurance in the sunlight. The boy always marveled over the idea that he had the same color eyes as she did. The same pitched-black hair seemed plausible but he worried that he did not have that same glimmer of hope and reassurance within him. He wished they were, so that he could return the warm feelings back to her. Even now, he noticed that the woman’s normal shine had begun to dim as of late, and he was determined to help her revive those emotions once more.

He sat up straighter as she approached him, her eyebrows furrowed, “Henry Isaac! Of all things, what do you think you were doing?!”

The boy grimaced at the tone of her voice and lowered his eyes to the grass in front of him, “Just…thinking, mum.”

“You were supposed to be taking care of herding the sheep towards the barnyard,” she pointed to the scattered flock of wooly animals grazing about the small valley around them. The woman, towering over him, dropped the laundry basket and placed her hands on her hips. A sure sign that she was more than a little disappointed.

“Sorry,” the boy sighed heavily as his shoulders sank down. 

A few moments passed and his mother noticed the sad expression written along his face. Her frustration slowly evaporated as she relaxed her arms and knelt down beside him. Her voice was softer and gentler, “What were you thinking about?”

The young boy blushed and made a quick glance to the sky above, “Flying.”

For a brief instant he caught his mother smirking out of the corner of his eye before she stood up and dusted off the dirt from the bottom of her dress. She looked up to the bright sun, shading her eyes and mumbling something under her breath before turning back to him.

“Well I guess we better hurry then. It’s almost time for you to be getting to your room,” she heaved the laundry basket up and onto her shoulder. She made a high-pitched whistle that seemed to attract the sheep’s attention, for as she moved down the hill they briskly trotted after her.

Henry, on the other hand, did not comply as quickly or eagerly. Your room, his mother had said. The thought made him shiver and the feeling of dread soon followed. He hated his room. Cold, damp cement walls caged him within a confined space without even a window to look outside. It was lonely in there, normally spending 4-6 hours without any company appearing, so he spent most of his time daydreaming. And sometimes…experimenting.

But now was not the time to think about it. He looked up from his drifting thoughts and saw his mother already a hundred steps ahead of him, just reaching the wooden fence gates. Henry quickly ran forward to catch up to her…

~

Nothing. 

There wasn’t a sound to be heard or a thing to see in the pitch blackness. The room was practically removed from the face of the earth. The only way Henry could believe he was still alive was to make consecutive breathing sounds to keep his mind off the silence. As for the missing vision, he had spent most of his time memorizing where the objects in his room were placed so that Henry wouldn’t have trouble running into things.

From what he thought, Henry was laying in his cot bed looking up at the dining room floor for the past twenty minutes. Then again, henry had no way to tell the time, and most minutes felt like hours upon hours of complete aloneness. Not even his mother or grandfather were close enough to feel…

He quickly shoved the image out of his mind and closed his eyes to a seemingly lighter darkness. It felt a little warmer and calming then the black beyond and so he fell into a relaxing state. The daydreaming would soon follow, and he had to stop and think on whether to continue on or not. It had been so painful the last time he tried. But maybe he could concentrate it…

  His decision had already been made by the time his imagination brought him back to the green rolling hills. The brisk wind whipped across his face as he saw himself rise quickly off the ground. He viewed the hills fall away and trees and boulders sink below him as Henry met the large mountain ranges above, their snow-capped peaks soon reaching eye level. The rush of wind beneath his feet lifted him even further, lengthy breezes flowing between his fingers. Henry reached out to touch the clouds...

There came a seering pain in his chest and he quickly gasped for air, only to find that there was none. Henry's eyes flashed open in realization as he started coughing and sputtering to get air circulating. He had used up too much again. The cement block of a room was practically sealed off to any breeze or wind to get in, and so Henry was left with only a certain amount of fresh air. Now, with no oxygen left, he choked on the empty dark enveloped around him.

Suddenly it hit Henry like a freight train. The horrific thought caught him offgaurd and he began to flail wildly. He couldn't die. Not now. He had only lived eight years of his simplistic life in the confines of the enclosed cell. And now this empty cell would overwhelm him of nothingness and squeeze the remaining breath out of him. How could it end like this?!

There was a grinding noise from somewhere and light streaked in and cut through the darkness as the cement tile above lifted away. A large gust of wind swept down upon Henry and with all of his energy he sucked in the fresh, fragrant air. It was life handing him a second chance and Henry drank it greedily and thankfully.

"Henry? You can-," his mother stopped in mid-sentence, staring down at his blistering red face and spastic form in astonishment. She let out a sharp gasp and stammered down to him, "H-Henry! What's wrong? What happened?!"

There was no response and only the sound of coughing and raspy inhaling trailed up to her. She quickly threw herself down the ladder to the cold floor below and raced over to the cot bed where he lay. His mother scooped him up in one heave and shouted back up the ladder, "Father! Come quick!"

A lanky old man with a bushy white mustache looked down through the concrete opening, "What's the matter, Jesse?"

"Here! Pull him up and give him some space to breathe," she lifted Henry up as high as her arms could hoist him. The elderly man leaned down and grasped the boy around the waist. With a few grunts, the man pulled Henry up and into the lighted room of the dining hall. 

Air surged back into Henry, cooling the burning agony in his lungs as his breathing quickly regulated out with the house breeze. The beat-red coloring drained away from his face as he began to sit up slowly.

"No, no! Not just yet, kiddo. Take a nice breather first," his grandfather gripped him at the shoulder and forced him back down onto his back. The old man peered down at Henry through small round glasses with a look of confusion, and a hint of frustration, on his face, "What in the world were you doing down there?"

"Fly-," Henry tried to respond but his voice was hoarse and his throat flared with irritation.

"Does it really matter?" his mother growled as she stepped up onto the hardwood floor from the ladder, "He was suffocating down there because the place is bloody sealed shut!"

His grandfather flinched at the cold words, "Jessie, don't start this again. We don't have any other options-."

"Like hell we don't! It's not like they come around here anymore," she snapped as she whirled around to face him, "I have counted the days, father. It's been almost twelve whole nights since I've seen one."

"We still must take every precaution. There's no telling what they would do to Henry if they found him."

The woman gave a brief sigh before sitting down beside the two on the floor, "I know, father. But he's never going to live a peaceful life if he's stuck in a cellar the rest of his days." She looked up at her father pleading, "Why not give him just one evening?"

He flashed his daughter a sharp glare, "Do you understand the consequences if this were to go wrong?"

She nodded, though he caught a hint of fear in her eyes before she looked down at Henry, smiling faintly, "Henry dear? How would you like to go on a picnic with me?"

Henry looked up in surprise and smiled happily.

~

The view was magical.

The sky had ignited in a burst of colors, stetched vastly overhead as clouds were beginning to disperse. Shadows began to lengthen as the sun slowly disappeared over the horizon. The cooled air swept through the tall cornfield just inside the wall of stones that bordered it. The leaves rustled in the large maple tree above them as Henry and his mother sat on top of a long woven blanket looking up into the vibrant atmosphere.

It was like a whole new world had opened up to Henry as he sat there, staring at the orange tinge in the sky through the tree branches. He had never seen the sunset before, let alone anytime after high noon. His mother had told him the sun normally moves, but he could never imagine that it disappeared. The thought chilled him and yet made Henry more excited as to what would happen next. The best part was the feeling of the wind. The absence of the sun now freezed the air and the cool breeze swept over him, making the hairs on his neck stick up and goosebumps skitter along his skin.

"Daydreaming again?"

Startled, Henry looked up at his mother who was sitting up and looking at him with a smirk, "You know, if you daydream too much you might start losing sight of what's real."

He thought about it for a moment and then looked at her questioningly, "Isn't that a good thing?"

His mother burst out laughing and ruffled his dark hair playfully, "If only you knew how right you really are." She sighed heavily and looked off to the clouds in the distance.

"Hey mum?"

"Yes, dear?"

Henry scratched the back of his head in hesitation, "Um...what was my father like?"

His mother, surprised at the sudden question, turned back to the boy who was laying on his back in deep concentration, "What made you think of that?"

He simply shrugged and continued to stare at the sky. There was a moment of silence before his mother cleared her throat, "Well he was...tall, I s'pose. A bit...dashing at times," she smirked to herself, "He always had a way with words. Got himself out of trouble a lot with it. Also got him into trouble as well..."

Henry looked over to her in alarm, "What kind of trouble?"

"Oh, nothing he couldn't handle. He was stubborn," she paused on the word and looked over at Henry with a raised eyebrow, "Much like someone else I know."

The young boy smiled and returned to laying down on the cozy blanket. The wind picked up for a few moments and Henry caught it flowing through his outstretched hand, the feeling tingling his fingertips. A second later the feeling disappeared and the wind died down to a breeze.

"Where did he go?"

It took a few minutes before his mother replied, her tone distant and sullen, "He left. He thought it would be better off if he didn't stay, for our safety." She choked on the last few words and took in a deep breath of air before continuing, "He went in search of a way to free you, and to free us all. He left to find the hidden resistance."

Henry's heart began to race. The hidden resistance, IRO, was an underground organization that was fighting for liberation. No one ever saw them, but the random bombings and assassination attempts displayed on the news gave proof to their existence. The idea of fighting against The Swarm thrilled Henry, for that was what he dreamed of doing ever since he was told about them. The filthy parasites that took total control of everything-

"Ouch!"

There was a sharp pinch on his arm and Henry's gaze shot down to see what it was. A small, ticking insect sat perched on his limb; its tiny propeller wings spinning in repetitive beats. Microscopic gears cranked along its slender carapace as it rested on its hinged legs calmly. At the front of its head sat a pair of compound glass eyes that seemed to be staring at everything and nothing at once while a thin tube attached to the mouth had reached down and punctured through the surface of henry's skin. Red fluid began running up through the tube and into the insect's thorax; a large container that was clear and see-through in the back of the small bug. 

Henry's first instinct activated and he raised his hand above his head, readying to strike. In the same instant his mother reached out and grasped his wrist. Startled, he struggled under the tight grip she held, trying to free his hand to remove the tiny pest. But no matter how much he squirmed, his mother refused to free him as the mechanical bug continued draining his blood. Finally, once the small glass container was filled, the insect detached the tube from under Henry's skin and its wings began spinning faster, the ticking sound increasing rapidly. The bug lifted up off of the arm and hovered in front of Henry's face for only a few moments before zipping away, past the tall maple tree and off across the cornfields.

Henry watched for a while as the small insect buzzed away into the distance before whirling around to glare at his mother's blank expression. She had continued to stare off in the direction the pest had fled, her dark green eyes saddened and beginning to glaze over with water. Her grip loosened and Henry, taking full advantage, pulled his hand free and rubbed the newly formed bruise on his bitten arm. 

"I am sorry, Henry," she finally spoke. Her voice was trembling as she turned to look at him, tears streaming down her face, "But you're going to learn later on that it gives you more of a chance to hide if you just let it go."

Henry's eyebrows dropped as he tried to interpret the words in his head, "I don't think-," but quickly stopped as his mother's hand suddenly came up and brushed back Henry's shaggy black hair out of his eyes. She leaned down and kissed his forehead, pulling back with a faint smile across her face, "Don't you worry. What I need you to understand now is that bad times are ahead. And whether it will be today, tomorrow or in the years to come," she pulled him in close and squeezed him in her arms, "No matter what happens, never give in."

~

The long walk home was quiet as Henry held his mother's hand tightly. The sun had vanished under the horizon and the dark had blacked out the sky, though some small, bright spots still shined through. His mother had called them stars, but Henry only interpreted them as parts of the sky that were able to break through the darkness. She laughed and only nodded in agreement. 

The gaslamp blazed like a beacon on the porch of the large farmhouse as they approached. His grandfather was sitting in the rocking chair, smoke billowing out of his long pipe protruding out of the corner of his mouth as his fingers tapped nervously along the energy rifle laying across his lap. His faded eyes darted wildly behind his spectacles and as Henry and his mother walked into the light he immediately vaulted out of the chair, the gun clattering to the wooden floor.

"How did it go? What was seen?What hap-?" the stammering old man stopped mid-sentence as he saw the tears on his daughter's face. His eyes widened in horror as he turned and knelt down in front of Henry, grabbing his arm. His grandfather lifted it up, flipping it over, searching along the forearm. When he couldn't find anything he took hold of Henry's other limb and began scanning over it until he noticed the small bump just below the elbow. His expression darkened as the old man cursed angrily, "Damnit to Drones, Jesse! I thought we agreed if there were any signs of 'em you'd get back here immediately!"

"Father," she placed a trembling hand on his shoulder, "they'll be here within the hour. We have got to get Henry to the safe room."

Henry's grandfather shook his head mournfully, "I doubt even that could keep him safe now. High Treason, do you know what you've done?!"

Henry's mother bent down and brought her father's gaze to her own. She was no longer crying but the streaks remained as she smiled faintly. Her voice surprisingly came out determined and unnerved, "I knew exactly what I was doing the moment Henry and I left. I know I've jeopardized the family and I am sorry. But I'm tired, Father. Tired of hiding, tired of holding my son in the dark, tired of being without a husband," another tear ran down her cheek, "I'm tired of being just another pawn of theirs. It's time I stood up for myself. And for my family," at that she turned to Henry and smiled brightly, the same spark of hope and reassurance twinkling in her emerald eyes. 

"Listen, I didn't mean to bring either of you into-," she started to say as she turned back to her father.

His hand was already raised weakly to silence her, "Please, spare me the Get-Out-of-Jail-Free card. You can't give me a lecture like that and expect me to run. I stood by your mother's beliefs, and I will stand by yours," the old man smirked as he stood up and dusted off his slacks. 

She frowned at the statement, "But what about-?"

"I'm also in!" Henry stepped forward eagerly. Both his mother and grandfather looked down at him in surprise at the sudden outburst.

"What?!" Henry shifted between the two with a look of rage, "You told me to never give in! What's so weird with me helping out?!"

His grandfather held up his hands in innocence, smirking, "Hey slow down there, kiddo. This isn't your fight though. Not yet atleast," he grimaced at his last few words.

~

"I don't understand, why do you have to leave?" Henry pleaded. 

After a few long discussions and heated debates, his mother and Henry had made their way back down into his safe room where he was to remain until twelve hours past. he argued with her on how he was supposed to tell the time from his dark prison but she only answered by pulling out of her dress pouch a silver pocket watch and a folded piece of paper and placed them into his hand.

"The sheet of paper is written instructions on what to do once you reach outside these grounds," she explained, "Hold onto it as if your life depended on it."

"Jesse! Time to go, they're here," Henry and his mother looked up to see the wiry man unshoulder the beam rifle at the top of the ladder.

The young woman nodded and turned back to Henry, emerald eyes shimmering with determination, "Listen to me, Henry. I have to go now. My spirit can't continue going. I'm giving the little I have left to you," she placed her hand against his heart, "Forgive me for not being strong enough to help you mature and grow. And of all times now, in such a heartless world, you must fend for yourself. But know this," she pulled him to her and hugged him tightly, "I will always be with you in spirit, and there is where I will never leave your side."

There came a loud thud upstairs and Henry could hear his granfather cursing solemnly. A few moments passed and another thud echoed into the small room and the sound finally broke the humble embrace as his mother pushed away, tears once more falling down across her face. She quickly brushed his shaggy hair out of his eyes, whispering, "I love you,"and with that she turned and headed up the ladder. The old man leaned down and helped pull his daughter up onto the wooden floor. He looked down to Henry with saddened eyes but with a tiny smirk, "Take care, lad."

The last thing Henry saw was the image of his mother and grandfather smiling down at him as the trap door was pulled shut and a sudden explosion roared...

~

Author's Note

If you enjoyed this, please leave reviews!! It will help me decide on continuing the story if more people enjoy it. Again, any feedback! Thanks!

Reviews

[Damac]

Interesting and Detailed... I liked it

[T. Michelle Stone]

Wow! I like what you have so far! =) You're an amazing story writer!

T