Trial By Terror

Chapter One

The boy woke up, scratched his head, and stretched. He was in a dark, rusty, smelly cage. On one side of the cage, there was a jumble of destroyed buildings. On the other sides, their was a wall. How did he get here? What was he doing here? He couldn't remember. A voice rang out from a speaker.

"You have five minutes. Five minutes to find shelter, food and weapons. We cannot see you, hear you or anything else. From the moment that your trial starts in five minutes time, you're on your own. Good luck Sam."

Sam. So that was his name. He liked it, it suited him.

The cage door opened, and Sam ran through. Everything around him was destroyed; there were overturned cars, collapsed buildings. But still no other sign of life. Sam raced past churches, soup kitchens, houses. There was still nothing.

Perhaps this was the trial they had talked about? Perhaps he just had to survive a desolate wasteland on his own? But what about food? And water, shelter too. Were they to be provided or would he slowly starve to death?

Suddenly, he saw it. Food. How long had it been since he had last eaten?

Sam raced over, starving. He grabbed the packet of crisps...

It was empty.

"Oh, come on!" He yelled angrily. His voice echoed throughout the ruined city.

Something moved.

It was a grotesque figure, covered in blood, limping slightly. The kind of thing that Sam felt he had seen somewhere before... Posters, yes, he had seen it on posters. What did the posters say?

It was something important...

The thing was close now, stumbling closer. There was another one behind it, and no doubt more would follow. This was it. Two minutes into his trial, he had failed. He was dead.

A boy jumped in front of him and stabbed the thing in the head with a knife.

"Move." He said. Sam stood there, stunned. Who the Hell was this? One of the few things that he could remember was that there weren't supposed to be any other people in here.

"I- I don't-" He began stammering a reply.

"I said move! Scram!" The boy said, stabbing the other thing. "Are you deaf as well as stupid?"

Sam got up and began to run towards an abandoned block of flats, but the boy called him back.

"Not there, you idiot! There are more of them in there! Just get behind that tree and hope like Hell they don't notice you!"

Sam obediently jumped behind the tree, panting. The events of the last five minutes seemed like a blur; a blur that he would quite like to forget.

Sam heard a few more hollow thunks and basis of pain as his companion eliminated whatever had come for them. After a few minutes, there was no more noise and Sam began to wonder whether the boy was dead. No, he couldn't think that.

"You can come out now, idiot." The boy said. Sam stepped out from behind the tree.

"What were those things?" He asked. "What do you call them?"

The boy shrugged. "We don't call them anything." He said. "You don't give a name to something that you're gonna kill."

Sam nodded, then hesitated. "Wait... We?"

"Yeah." The boy replied. "There are more of us. Now." He said, his manner suddenly businesslike. "Come with me if you fancy living."

Wordlessly, the pair walked through the ruined town. They encountered no other problems. It was good for them, but Sam suspected that it was very bad for someone else. That is, if the boy wasn't bluffing and there actually were more people here. If they were anything like Sam's companion, he would be worried. The boy's sandy hair and lithe build didn't give off an air of intimidation, but he had seen him with a knife. If he could do that, what could the 'others' do?

Eventually, the both led Sam to a clear area. Clear, that is, except from the obviously homemade buildings that someone had made. The buildings were raised on stilts. There were ladders that could be dropped down. A sign by the entrance of the place read 'Piccadilly Circus' and some steps led down to an area marked as the 'London Underground'.

"Oi! James!" The boy called up to one of the houses. "I found another one!"

A ladder was thrown down, and another boy climbed down it. He looked slightly older than Sam's companion. He had short black hair, and a muscular build. Sam shrank back. The boy offered his hand.

"Hey. I'm James." He said, grasping Sam's hand.

"Sam." He replied.

"And I'm Alex, James' second in command." The first boy butted in. James gave him a withering look, and Alex shrugged. "What?" He asked. "I saved his bloody arse, he may as well know my name!"

"Are there... More of you guys up there?" Sam asked, motioning to the houses.

"Yup." James said. "There are about forty of us here."

"The odd thing is," Alex continued, "We're all of roughly the same age, nationality and opinions, and every single one of us had been found on the thirtieth sunrise of the moon cycle."

"Moon cycle?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah." James said. "It's the only way of timekeeping that we have here. I've been here for about twenty four moon cycles. Alex here has been here for twenty three."

"So, I'm the newest kid." Sam said.

"Yeah." James said. "And let me tell you, a few people are gonna wish you were dead."
As if on cue, a haughty looking boy climbed down the ladder.

"And what is that." He enquired rudely, looking disdainfully at Sam.

"He," James said bluntly, "is called Sam."

"Sam." The boy said. "I suppose he's another no good dung head who Alex felt compelled to rescue?"

"Yeah." James said, before anyone could interject. Alex looked livid, and Sam could see him trying hard to not slap the other boy. The boy then turned to Sam, and sneered at him.

"I'm Harry." He spat. "You're beneath me. Do not speak to be, bump into me or have anything to do with me."

"You can't just make up rules without me saying that it's okay." James said firmly. "And those rules are invalid."

"Besides," Sam muttered, "I wouldn't touch you with a five metre stick."

Alex let out a short laugh, before disguising it as a cough. Harry looked at them both suspiciously, but climbed up the ladder without saying anything else.