The Prophet Wars (Volume 2): Dead Or Alive

By Thomas Emson

A boy who can see the future. A girl who can part the waves. A conflict that will destroy the planet.

Britain 2026. Crime is rife. Unemployment soars. There is hunger, there is misery, there is devastation. Our world is on the brink of catastrophe. Earthquakes, storms, wars and plagues blight the planet.

And dark forces are gathering...

The future looks bleak. And 15-year-old Billy Kingdom can see it coming. He dreams about disasters - and days later, they happen.

Through social media, Billy learns that other kids are experiencing similar visions. Online, he grows close to a girl named Tawny Lang.

But one night Billy, Tawny, and other youngsters from across Britain with the same gifts, are kidnapped by armed men. They are taken to an underground compound called The Caves run by Ruby Bleak and her teenage nephew Robin, a child genius lacking any empathy.

Holed up in the subterranean complex, Billy and Tawny develop a bond. The Caves, however, hides a sinister secret. The kids quickly learn that they are only guinea pigs in a plot to control the future. But Billy isn't having any of it and plots his escape.

But will his desire to see his family again tear apart the trust and friendship he has forged with Tawny and create, for himself and the world, a deadly enemy?

The second part of Thomas Emson's action-packed Young Adult thriller set in the near future and dealing with themes such as family, relationship, trust, and the environment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thomas Emson
• Release date: Oct 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463772690

Thomas Emson

Thomas Emson has published eight horror thrillers, including Maneater, the Vampire Trilogy (Skarlet, Krimson, and Kardinal) and Zombie Britannica. He's also self-published The Trees And Other Stories on Amazon, as well as How To Write A Novel In 6 Months, a guide to helps aspiring authors achieve their writing goals. You can contact Thomas on Twitter @thomasemson or on Instagram @thomasemsonhorror. His latest book is the novella Ironbones. You should also sign up to his newsletter at thomasemson.com and you'll receive two free books.

Book preview

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TWO

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THREE

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PREVIOUSLY

IT’S 2026. The world is falling apart. Wars and natural disasters blight the planet. Earthquakes, storms, tidal waves, wars. Many think the end is coming. But teenagers like Billy Kingdom and Tawny Lang are dreaming about catastrophes before they happen. It’s a gift – or maybe a curse. Because someone knows about these kids. Someone knows they have psychic ability. One night a secret organization called 9:6 kidnaps all the teens and transports them to an underground compound known as The Caves. Run by the Bleak family, 9:6 claims to want to harness the youngsters’ powers to help save the planet. But they have more sinister goals in mind. And when Billy escapes, they will stop at nothing to bring him back...

1

FOR the hundredth time, Billy Kingdom tried to barge past the waiter as he left his room. But for the hundredth time the waiter proved to be more than just a restaurant attendant. He was a hard case. A tough guy. Like most men who worked for Lord Seven Blades, one of the notorious London Warlords.

The waiter grabbed Billy by the scruff of the neck, swung him round, and threw him across the room.

Grinning and rubbing his hands together, the waiter said, You’ve got to come up with a better plan than that, kid. Three months and you’re still trying the same old lark. It didn’t work first time round and it don’t work now. Even if you did get past me, where would you go, eh?

The waiter laughed and slammed the door.

Where would Billy go? He probably wouldn’t get out of the tower block. It was somewhere in the East End of London. That’s all Billy knew. His windows had been blacked out. But he could guess his whereabouts because the East End was the area Seven Blades owned. And that included Bethnal Green, Billy’s square mile. He was very close to home, in fact.

The tower block had 12 storeys. The top four were occupied by Seven Blades and his entourage. So even if Billy managed to barge his way past the waiter, he still had a way to go. How would he get out?

This was his prison. It had been since he’d crawled out of The Caves three months before. Crawled out to find himself surrounded by Lord Seven Blades’ thugs. All of them armed to the teeth. All of them ready for a war.

After his escape, Billy had looked around for Grigori. The laundryman had climbed out before him. But there was no sign of the stranger Billy had befriended in The Caves.

Initially Billy thought that the thugs might have trussed Grigori up and tossed him into the back of a truck. But there was no truck. No Grigori. Where had Billy’s mate gone?

You are the real Billy no mates, eh? Lord Seven Blades had said when Billy finally met him, and he’d laughed. And all his minions had laughed, too. His minions who had thrown Billy in the back of a car and put a hood over his head before driving off.

When they got to their destination – the tower block – they dragged him out of the vehicle and whipped off the hood, letting him see the apartment building.

It was a grey, rotting hulk, like so many in this part of the capital. Kids loitered. Graffiti covered walls. Litter was strewn everywhere. Dogs barked. Girls, most of them younger than Billy, pushed prams.

It was your typical London estate in the late 2020s.

As they went up in the elevator, it was all the same – grotty, grim, and derelict. That was until they came to the 9th floor, the first one occupied by Seven Blades.

The elevator door slid open and Billy gawped.

Plush carpets lay on the floor. Expensive looking wallpaper plastered the walls. A chandelier hung from the ceiling. Classical music played. Men in suits hung around, smoking, making the place stink of tobacco.

Behind an oak desk at the centre of the room sat a small bald man. Piles of cash towered around him on the desk. He seemed to be counting the dosh. His brow was furrowed.

Billy was led to the back of the room. He glanced at the man counting the money as he passed by. The man looked up and said, What’re you looking at, kid?

The money. Billy was looking at the money. He’d never seen so much.

His kidnappers pushed him through a door, and they climbed four floors.

Can’t we take the lift? he said.

No lifts up top, said one of the blokes. Makes it more difficult for people to get up there, see. And then he chuckled, as if he thought the idea of trying to get up there anyway was bloody stupid.

They went trough a door at the top of the flight of stairs. Billy was ushered into an even nicer room. He stopped dead. It smelled of cooked meat. Roast beef, he was sure of it. His stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten properly in ages. Again, the carpets were deep, again the wallpaper was flash. Old paintings hung from the walls. The kind you would see in a museum.

Music played too. Live music. A string quartet – three women on violins and a man playing the cello –in the corner.

Lots of suited thugs hung around. A woman in a business suit and glasses was also present. She was sitting behind a computer, apparently typing.

This him? said a voice.

Billy turned towards it. Entering the room from a bathroom, which Billy quickly glimpsed had gold taps, came a tall man. He had silver hair. Three scars ran diagonally down his face, from beneath his left eye, across his nose, to just under his right ear. He wore a white silk shirt and red tie. Strapped to his ribs in a brown leather holster were his weapons. Billy counted them. And after counting them, he knew he was looking at Lord Seven Blades.

2

A LOT of people have gone north, said Lord Seven Blades as he sharpened a cleaver on a blue stone. The noise made Billy’s teeth itch. He wished the warlord would stop. But you couldn’t tell Seven Blades not to do anything. If you did, he might just use that sharpened cleaver on your neck.

North? Billy said.

Yes, son, north, you know... and he pointed upwards with his cleaver. They’ve abandoned London. The city’s dying slowly. Didn’t you notice on your way here?

I had a hood over my head, Billy said.

Seven Blades laughed. He studied the cleaver’s blade. He touched it with the tip of his finger then checked his finger and smiled.

Take my word for it, he said.

Why should I?

Billy regretted the words the moment they came out of his mouth. A gasp went through the room. Everyone looked at him, including Seven Blades, whose eyes glittered. Those eyes were full of venom. And for a moment Billy thought the warlord would hack his head off with the cleaver. But then Seven Blades laughed. Billy blew air out of his cheeks.

You’re a cheeky one, son, said the warlord. I was a bit cheeky when I was your age, and look where it got me?

Billy looked around. It got Seven Blades here. It wasn’t bad. Maybe the tower block was a bit grim, and the area wasn’t nice, but the warlord had turned parts of this building into a palace. And for that he had needed money. The shirt on his back looked expensive, as did the clothes his men wore.

Billy thought for a moment, comparing his lifestyle to that of Lord Seven Blades’.

Let me show you, son, Seven Blades said, and walked over to Billy. He flinched. The man was intimidating. He hurt people for fun. He must have noticed Billy’s concern. Smelled fear like a dog smells fear. So he said, Ain’t going to harm you now, kid. Just come over to the window. Take in the views.

The window basically took up the whole back wall of the room, and it was only when the drapes were drawn back that Billy realized the spectacular views on offer. Because there was only glass between him and a 12-storey fall, he stiffened. But he overcame his fear and stepped forward.

London 2026, said Seven Blades. The city in its dying days.

From what Billy was seeing, he could tell he was looking south towards Southwark. South-west towards Westminster and Lambeth.

He could see the buildings near the Thames. He could see landmarks like The Gherkin and Big Ben, peeking above the buildings in Westminster. He could see the London Eye.

But they didn’t seem right. They looked somehow out of kilter. It was as if he were looking at a famous photograph, one he’d seen many times, and someone had scrunched it up.

He narrowed his eyes, studying the landscape. He wondered how long it had taken to build London. There were so many buildings, so many streets. Thinking about it gave him a headache.

Not much traffic, he thought, and then he said it out loud.

Not much traffic.

A few red buses crawled along. Black cabs trickled down some streets. Cars and lorries trundled. But the roads weren’t clogged. His mum used to say, It was much busier when I was a girl.

He looked up. The sky was like lead. Gray and heavy, despite it being May. It made him jittery. He sensed something. Was it the future?

And then he looked more carefully.

The Gherkin was tilting slightly. Like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Big Ben’s spire was bent. And the top of one of the bridge’s two towers was nothing but rubble, as if a bomb had struck it.

What’s happened? he said.

Massive storm, Seven Blades answered. Huge lightning strike took out Tower Bridge. Hurricane did that to Big Ben."

Billy trawled through his mind. Panic rose in him. He never saw this. Never dreamt it.

Or did he?

So