The Disappearances Read Online Free Page B

decide who joined them. And anyone who did join them had to prove their worth, had to show that they were committed, that they could fit in.
    And so that’s just what they’d done. Raffy had got work on one of the many farms that kept the Settlement’s community fed; Evie had started in the kitchens, then moved to the fabric workshops where her rusty sewing skills were welcomed. And Raffy’s delight in the place soon rubbed off on her, too. Whereas in the City she’d loathed sewing, had wanted to do something as different as possible from the woman who had posed as her mother, here she found herself feeling grateful that there was something she could do well; here she brushed away the pricked fingers that plagued her, because they didn’t matter, because in a strange way she was almost proud of them. Proud of her work, of being part of a community that was as different from the City as it was possible to be.
    And Benjamin had watched them, too; every so often one of them would look up to see him watching them, the whites of his eyes shining against his ebony skin; when he realised that he had been seen, he would give a half-smile, a little wave, and would walk on, his long robes flapping at his ankles, robes that were in no way a uniform, and yet were emulated by most of the men and women on the Settlement – long flowing clothes and long flowing hair that framed open, happy faces as they worked, talked, laughed and ate.
    People didn’t talk much about the past at the Settlement, which suited Evie and Raffy down to the ground. It was like Benjamin had said, people here were building a new life, a new future. The past was another place, the past could not be changed. The citizens of the Settlement recognised this. They had suffered during the Horrors, just as everyone had suffered, just as those who had initiated the Horrors had intended. But the Settlement’s people had survived, and with survival came responsibility. A responsibility to live, to grow, to learn, to draw a line and move on.
    And that was what had convinced Evie that this wasn’t just somewhere they could survive, but was somewhere they could live. In the City, they talked about the Horrors all the time, about the evil that had nearly destroyed the world. In the City, everything and everyone was analysed, labelled, ranked, including the people. Here in the Settlement, people just got on with their lives, looking to the future, looking for the good in people instead of fearing the evil. Here, music was always in the air; people playing guitars, singing, humming as they worked. Here books were shared and discussed openly; here different opinions were welcomed and considered. Here, asking questions was encouraged, not frowned upon. Here, you could talk to whoever you wanted, whenever you wanted to.
    At least that was the idea.
    ‘Hey, Evie!’
    Evie turned to see Neil walking towards her. Neil was one of the Settlement’s teachers. Teaching was considered the highest calling in the Settlement and everyone was encouraged to learn as much as they could. There were regular art classes, book groups, pottery, woodwork, engineering and cookery classes, as well as classes in reading, writing and arithmetic for those whose education had been limited to a few sporadic lessons given by whoever was available, and for those who hadn’t even got that far.
    ‘Neil!’ Evie’s eyes lit up and she rushed towards him eagerly. Neil, who was aged somewhere in his fifties, had arrived at the Settlement ten years before, having lived almost has a hermit since the end of the Horrors. Wearing nothing but rags and with hair down to his waist, he had – according to the stories Evie had been told – been close to starvation; for several weeks it was touch and go whether he would survive. But slowly he was brought back to health and with each week his nurses had learnt more about him, discovered that this emaciated man in front of them had been a leading academic before the