🙘🙘🙘🙘

In that moment of falling, Kate was back in the forest again. 

She was plummeting to the ground, grazed by the sharp inconsistencies of the branches as she fell. The trees groaned, toppling along side her; soldiers wounded in battle. Her body knocked smashed onto the branch of a particularly large tree. She desperately clawed at the wooden mass in an attempt to slow her velocity, but the bark came off in her hands like blood encrusted scabs. 

Sky looming further over her, Kate was engulfed in desperate scrabbling tree hands. She tried to cry - to scream, but the destruction occurred too fast. She wanted to make a noise, but someone had got there before her.

When she hit the forest floor the darkness overcame her- and yet, she felt little pain. 

Now that her vision was blotted out by inky blackness, the scream was brought further into her attention. It was low in tone and after a short moment it mingled into a pain-filled groan. Not like hers at all. 

 "Get off me."

It was Tom. Kate prized opened her eyes to see him lying face first in front of her. Relief brushed over her. I'm still alive. 

Barely.

Hands first, Tom and Kate had crashed onto the wooden bridge. A day ago, the bridge was hidden by the morning mist but now it's temperamental brown surface was pressed against Tom's forehead uncomfortably. 

They were half within and half outside as Tom's foot had secured it's place inside the boathouse, lodged between two planks.

Kate was almost limp on top of him, having been unable to stop herself from falling, through the door, after Tom. She shuddered as she tried to recover from the fall, that she'd been forced to relive. 

Tom shoved Kate, trying to push her off of him, and perhaps over the bridge and into the acidic water. The anger filled look that was etched onto his face, though unseen to Kate, would certainly have made that a likely conclusion. 

"I swear you'll pay for this," Tom spat, forced to look into the lake's dangerous waters.

Still, Kate barely stirred. The anxiety of the fall tied her to that bridge. She didn't want to move at all, in case she fell again, in the forest. 

Tom removed his splintered foot out of the hole in the floorboards. He then groaned in anguish; there was no way he would be able to get up unless Kate did first.

Overcome with further fury, Tom kicked Kate. He convinced himself he would've done again, harder, had the planks not creaked, as a warning, under their weight. 

The shove finally forced Kate into consciousness. 

She tried to quickly push herself off of Tom, but the planks seemed to crack under their weight and Kate's hand slipped off of one as it snapped like a bone. 

"Don't make any sudden movements," Tom ordered whilst Kate struggled to regain her balance. "Or we're both dead." He knew he would be the first to fall. 

With careful, if not scared movements, Kate spread out the weight of her palms equally and steadied herself. 

The wood creaked again. This time it wasn't Kate. "What the hell Tom?" Kate cursed. Had she not been hanging over a skin boiling mass of water, perhaps she would've fancied herself grown up - for using a word that she'd always been told not to use. 

She felt Tom go rigid underneath her. There was no reply. A thudding came to her attention. As she looked up from the wooden bridge she almost let her hands slip again. For the sight ahead of her was terrifying.

*

Tom stared ahead of him in dread. 

As soon as he had lifted his head from the floor in order to ready himself, he saw them. 

Consisting of rusted armour plates, grating against each other, they stomped, one by one, past the rickety old boathouse. 

If they were any closer to them, the vibrations from their movements would've surely snapped the wooden structure in half. 

Those creatures - they looked like barbaric beasts, erratic cyclops- capable of destroying anything in their wake. 

CrEaK

Tom and Kate shuddered in fear, causing the wooden bridge to alert them of the more pressing danger. 

"Anytime now would be good for you to start moving," Tom said briskly, failing to stay calm. They were fully aware that some one could notice them at any moment. 

The trembling nature of Kate's body meant that she put too much pressure on her left hand; another wooden plank shuddered underneath them.

"Kate. Be careful," Tom hissed, as more metal monsters passed by, their feet making soup of the desert like soil. He flattened himself out evenly, unable to turn his head away from the sight in front of him. His brain bubbled a concoction of fear and delirium.

"Yeah I know. Just shut up and let me concentrate." 

Behind the grotesque suits were some people handling brushes. They scuttled along behind them, presumably fixing the big craters in the ground, that were left behind by the giant copper coated spiders.

The wooden bridge groaned as Kate had managed to carefully lift herself off of Tom. Usually the release of pressure on his lungs from a weight would've been a relief. Though it was not. Not this time.

Tom readied himself to lift his body from the bridge. Just as he did so he felt a plastic container placed over his nose and mouth. Kate must've put it on him. A cruel joke. 

He couldn't afford to protest without risking his life. So Tom remained silent and lifted himself up. 

*

Relieved to see the world from a higher view, he turned to Kate, only to see her shaking a man's hand. 

Oh god. They've found us. Tom backed away in the hope that he could sneak into the safety of the boathouse. Though the man caught him and grabbed his hand- giving it a firm shake.

"Let go of me. Who are you?" Tom frowned. The machines and people had come to a halt behind the man.

He tilted his head, observing the specimen that stood before him. He remained silent for a long moment. 

"Well aren't you just a barrel of boiling magma!" said the man, almost shouting. "I'm Purifier coordinator 3.2. You're the fresh meat, I presume? " He stood with his back in a regimented straightness and he wore a black jumpsuit that curved around his body in altered cotton kinks, as if it had been ordered to.

The sheer volume and size of the coordinator's division stopped Tom telling the man the truth of what he thought of him. 

Tom prepared himself to fabricate a story- as to why Kate and him were not involved in anything to do with the government but Kate got there first.

"That's us. We'd be honoured to work for you." she said, scheming. She had regained her confidence once she realised that this was her chance to finally discover the government's plans.

Join the end of the line then, workers!" ordered the coordinator, as he turned around to rejoin the front of the group.

That man's uniform - it was familiar to Tom. So familiar that he felt incredibly stupid when he remembered that his own father had worn the same. With the logo on the back and all. And in smaller letters- that Tom hadn't noticed before, was the slogan Pure water, Pure souls. It surrounded the bright blue silhouette of a woman- half overcome by a dark wave. 

Tom presumed that she was supposed to be mother nature. Though she was never mentioned by the adults, unless they were teachers- qualified to talk about illegalities.  

"See, that wasn't so hard!" Kate said smugly, as they went to join the back of the line. Tom grabbed Kate by the collar, infuriated. 

"You have no idea what you've gotten us into." He glared at Kate. She gave a satisfied grin in response. 

There must've been at least forty of these new workers. They were all of similar age- each person characterised by the different way the solemn expression took form on their faces.

Tom felt the oxygen mask around his face and instinctively went to check the oxygen meter but he had no tank. He shoved Kate and pointed to the nonexistent presence on his back.

"I couldn't carry two oxygen tanks as well. What was a supposed to do?" Kate growled after they had reached the end of the group.

"You're lucky we're at the back so no one can see. This won't work for long."Tom told Kate honestly.

"Excuse me?" she said to the woman in front of her, ignoring Tom. "But where are we going?"

The woman whose waist was surrounded by a red bandanna replied "To fill up our oxygen tanks of course, before the purification begins. You do know what the purification is don't you?"

Tom knew he didn't have a choice. If he said no then the government would easily find him and kill him. If he said yes then at least he'd be less likely to be noticed and killed. He would become a 'Purifier' for the day then go back into hiding. He didn't care about Kate.

Law Six: Failure to carry out required jobs will lead to drowning of the person in question

"You're gunna have to get rid of those pesky locks out of your face if you don't want to have them burned off," someone said to Kate, whose bald head shone in the sun. 

"No can do." Kate apologised. She shuddered at the thought of losing her hair - it's long length came in handy. It hid the empty space on her back where she should've been carrying the oxygen tank.

"You've been warned. It's the least you can do to work for the government and honour Her." A few more people turned their heads and whispered in agreement.  

"Who's her?" Kate asked.

"Mother Nature. Stupid." Tom whispered to Kate, well aware that people were not permitted to mention Nature.

"Quiet back there!" shouted the coordinator. So they became silent- hearing only the scuffed steps of shoes and metal against ground.

*

As they neared Lake Down, the Eastern lake of Windermere the coordinator announced the following:

"Right! Metal  heads you'll wait at the rendezvous point. The rest of you- take these, they will allow you a free refill of oxygen as you are our new workers." 

To each person he gave out a piece of a coin, it's importance was immediately recognisable and Tom and Kate held one in their hands. Coins were no longer used for money- sea glass was used for that. Instead, the rarity of the coins made them perfect for identifying and rewarding workers.

Kate stopped and stared as the metal creatures marched off into the distance- past homes containing people who were safe in their blissful sleep. It was disturbing, how innocent the people inside seemed to be of the outer destruction. 

A few rows ahead of the two, Tom saw, in the plethora of people - a boy. He had mid length hair, held out of his face by an elastic band and as he turned his head you could see, ever so slightly, patches of dappled stubble. 

He looked like...

"Flynn." Tom said- his name sounding the same, under Tom's oxygen mask, as it did when they were younger.

Author's Note- Hello you! Thanks so much for taking the time to read this next chapter. I hope it was a good'n and that you'll stick around because updates are now back to normal. I would be the happiest person in the world if you could give this a like and comment. Keep being cool. -hippywitch