Children of the Dust Read Online Free PDF

'There's William and Catherine, remember? We can't give up, Veronica. We've got to think about them, do everything we can to help them stay alive.'
    'I can't!' said Veronica. 'I can't go on! I can't even try! It's pointless, Sarah. Completely pointless!'
    Sarah stood up.
    It had to be her. She would have to take on the responsibility Veronica had abandoned. Their lives in her hands. It was a huge undertaking but she could feel the strength inside her like a great welling of power. She was not alone. In the hushed darkness around her she could feel a presence, sense the eternal being of which she was a part. She knew it was all for a purpose, that she had to go on. Something in the future was dependent on her. And although she might die, something or someone would survive because of her, and God Himself would give her courage.
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    After Veronica broke down William behaved better. Through the long dark hours he played with Catherine and the Lego bricks, children's voices talking quietly together. Veronica said nothing more. She seemed to be withdrawn inside herself, sunk into a kind of torpor, not knowing or caring what went on. Sarah reheated the stew and William ate it without complaint. But Veronica lay on the sofa, refusing to eat or drink. All she had had all day was a cup of black coffee. It was as if she had lost the will to live and Sarah was afraid to press her.
    She put the saucepan to soak in the bucket of filthy water and wiped the plates clean with crumpled newspaper. The fireplace was full of rubbish . . . biscuit wrappings, tissues, and the empty cornflake packet. Candlelight flickered and a match flared brightly as she bent to set it on fire.
    It was then that Sarah noticed . . . there was dust in the hearth, grey dust falling like soot, silent and deadly. She blew out the match and switched on the torch, shone it around the room. The dust was everywhere, on all the surfaces, floating like scum on the bucket of drinking water. 'Is is safe?' Catherine had asked, as if she had suspected it was not. And the dust was inside them now, in herself and William and Veronica, inside their gullets and being absorbed. They had guarded against fall-out as the radio announcer had instructed, but they had forgotten to block up the chimney which was open to the sky.
    'Veronica!' Sarah said urgently. 'This water's contaminated!'
    Veronica raised her head.
    Dead eyes stared at Sarah, uncomprehendingly. Sarah ran her finger along the mantelpiece. And thrust it under her nose. 'Dust!' said Sarah. 'Look at it!' Veronica stared. Her blue eyes flickered. And she understood.
    'Where's it coming from?' she asked in alarm. 'Down the chimney,' Sarah told her. I'll find something to block it up. We're going to have to clean this room. We'll have to wash everything with disinfectant, and we'll need some more drinking water. You'll have to go and get some. The hot water tap should be all right as it's a closed-in cylinder . . . and I'll need the Bex Bissell brush and carpet shampoo.'
    Veronica stood up. Suddenly her face displayed purpose. And her voice was calm and controlled. 'Go under the table, William,' she said. 'And stay under there until I've fetched the things we need.'
    'I want to help,' said William.
    'You can help when I come back,' Veronica said.
    'Will I have to help too?' Catherine asked worriedly.
    'I think we can manage,' said Sarah.
    'But there might be dust in my house! And I breathed it when I came out! Am I going to die now?'
    'I shouldn't think so,' Sarah said.
    The grandfather clock struck nine before they finished. The day's candle had burned away and Sarah had lit another. The room smelled sweeter . . . disinfectant, furniture polish and carpet shampoo, stronger than the stink of human excrement and stale stew. William had washed the bookcase. The food tins were polished and shiny and the junk was gone from the corner behind the chair. Even the soiled clothes and the dining chairs Veronica had taken outside and