Bren settled down on the smooth rock and released Thomas, retracting into herself once more.

Both took a few steps forward, looking around at the vast space. Nothing but disappointment covered it. There was not even a blemish, crack or crease in the unbroken surface. Thomas looked back, reeling a little from the realisation of how high they were. He could see vehicles approaching, kicking up dust clouds in their wake. They were still a way off, and they'd have to reach the top o the cliff too, but he knew that he and Bren needed to make a move of some sort.

"I thought you said Womack was up here," he commented. She had. How could she be wrong?

"I did," Bren answered quietly. "He... he was."

"Well, he's not now."

Bren shot Thomas an angry look, which he ignored. Not only were they in completely the wrong place, but they'd be targets again very soon. She had no right to be angry with him.

"I don't understand it," Bren said. "There was a big building here. It was like... like... an igloo! Yeah. Like an igloo, only made out of concrete."

"An igloo?!

"Yeah. An igloo, but massive, and with loads of windows."

"And you saw him? You saw Womack?"

Bren paused. She had seen Womack and had thought he hadn't seen her. The disappearance of the scientist's base make it clear she was mistaken about that.

Plus...

"Yes," she said cautiously. "I saw Womack. I don't get how it could all be gone. It's not like you could just lift it up and carry it away. This place was big!"

"Well, it's gone now."

The sentence sounded only half finished, the final word trailing off as if it wasn't sure it was meant to be actually spoken. Bren looked around.

"What are you doing?"

Thomas was crouching, looking at something, but his body, small though it was, obscured whatever it might be. Bren moved to bend close to him. Thomas pointed.

"See that?" he asked without looking up.

"I see it."

In wide open spaces, particularly those where foliage has been suppressed by the weather and the elements to grip only in fiercely held little groups of resistance, the air is king. Aided by the rain, it slowly eats away at the hardiest of obstacles, dining on an eon long feast of whatever delights it chooses to consume. Like the crumbs of a particularly dry biscuit, the air, excited to be called wind, leaves behind dust.

A line of dust was drawn across a small section of the ground. It almost blended in enough to be invisible, but a scattering was slightly higher, off the ground and hanging in mid air. Thomas reached out to touch the spot.

It was hard. Cold. Nothing was there, visually, but there was definitely something causing the dust to find minimal purchase against the wind. He ran his palm higher and, adding his other hand, wider. Bren joined in, spreading herself thin to reach a broader area.

"Impressive," Bren commented when she pulled back.

"What is it?" Thomas asked, though he thought he knew.

"A wall. More than that," she said, "it's an enclosure."

"Is it a power keeping it invisible or... tech or something?"

"Pretty sure it's not a power. I'd be able to tell. This is some sort of enhanced Blocker that's keeping everything including the light out."

"How can you tell?"

"I don't know," Bren said, her face betraying her emotions. Fear. "I keep getting more and more abilities. They're just there and I know how to use them. It's instinct. And I can kind of sniff out powers."

"How do I smell?"

"You smell of potential and you smell of determination."

Thomas sniffed and nodded. No powers, then.

"You smell of sweat, too."

Bren laughed, and it was only partly forced. Thomas smiled, again, almost sincerely.

"How do we get in?" he asked.

Bren looked around. The Blocker was strong. She couldn't circumvent it, no matter which of her arsenal of abilities she brought to bear. There had to be a way in. They had a job to do. A mission. She knew their reasons were mainly selfish – self preservation -but she also felt the import of the wider picture. If they were successful, the ramifications would be far reaching.

The fact that she and Thomas wanted differing things from this adventure hadn't escaped her. He wanted what she had, but the girl was sure she could make him see things differently. It was the possession of abilities that led to the world's ruin. If everyone was normal, he would still be at home with his father. Maybe even his mother. Perhaps she might have been too. They certainly wouldn't be running and fighting for their lives. Instead of worrying about Spotters and death, their main problems would be forthcoming proms or exams or dates. The man they were about to meet had a lot to answer for.

But first, they had to get inside. Bren had already, whilst touching its surface, discovered the barrier was a dome. Its wall was more upright than leaning, but it curved inwards to meet at the centre. It was huge, covering most of the area of the plateau. Whatever was inside was completely hidden and faint dashes of dust betrayed its existence.

Bren shook her head. She didn't know how to get inside. A Blocker worked to disable powers. One of this size, with whatever other enhancements had been made to conceal its contents, would prevent even her from gaining entry.

She saw Thomas watching her, presumably to see which of her extensive abilities she was going to use to gain entry. She curtailed his potential questions telling him of her inability.

"So, we've got here and we're stuck?"

"I don't know," she said, sadly. "I hope not."

"Well, they're getting closer, so we're running out of time."

Bren looked out at the approaching Spotters. They were still some distance away, but that would be covered far too quickly. If an entrance couldn't be found, The Spot would claim its next victim. Or victims!

Bren could see small objects flying above the cars, keeping pace with them. Drones. David was coming and was prepared for a ratings smashing showdown.

Well, she thought, let's not give them one.

"Do you have any clue about what we're going to do once we're inside?" she asked Thomas.

He didn't know or care. They'd think of something. They always had so far. With an immaturity more common with his age rather than his actual attitude, the boy shrugged. He turned to the invisible wall, raised his fist and hammered repeatedly against the surface.

The impact of a ten year old's small hand against anything would often be negligible but, surprisingly, Thomas's banging had an effect. Ripples could just be seen, almost running along the air like waves of light. A faint but discernible humming sound tugged at their ears.

"Let me," said Bren.

Thomas stood back and watched as his friend's arm transformed into a large sledge hammer. He was past the point where this might concern or amaze him. She could, seemingly, do anything she wished. He was please for her, though it was tempered with a hint of envy.

Bren swung her arm back, around and down as hard as she could. She felt the vibrations of the impact shaking her to the core, making her fingers, once they were back, tingle. And the result... was just as Thomas'. Rather than the ripples becoming waves and the hum a headshaking throb, both bore exactly the same voracity.

The pair looked at each other wordlessly then, as if that few seconds of eye contact spoke volumes, both started to hit and kick the invisible wall.

The undulations circles away from the fists. The noise crept into their ears to nudge at the brains, yet there was no response from within. Another humming sound joined the dome's solo performance. Thomas turned to see its origins.

The drone hovered just off the edge of the precipice. It hung there, moving slightly side to side, its large, circular glass eye regarding them coldly.

"There you are!" David's voice came from a speaker grill just below the lens. "Why didn't you wait? We could have had such fun together."

Bren turned then and raised her hand, its surface covered in a faint white glow with sparks like mini lightning bolts coursing through it. Thomas touched her arm and shook his head.

"They've found us now. Leave it be. It won't make a difference either way."

"But..."

"Don't let them distract us. It's what they want."

Bren kept her hand raised for a moment, then nodded and lowered it again. He was right. Fighting the Spotters would not only delay them while they still might have a chance, but it could also cost them their lives. She was confident, but not arrogant, and did not automatically believe she could win any battle. It should have been her making the decision, though, rather than him. She was older. More world weary. The glow dissipated and the sparks faded as they ran up her arm. Thomas had already returned his attention to the wall. He was no longer striking it, however.

"Let us in," he called.

"What are you doing?" Bren asked.

She'd already been here. She'd already seen what was inside, and, though she didn't want to see it again, knew she had no choice. But, before, she had chanced on the inhabitant dropping the barrier momentarily. She didn't have to find an entrance and had been lucky to find an exit.

"We can't bash our way in, so I'm trying to get Womack to notice us."

Oh, he'll have noticed us, she thought. For the good it'll do.

David, through the drone, laughed.

"Knock, knock!" he called.

Without turning, Bren asked the obvious question.

"Who's there?"

"No-one important. Just a dead boy and his girlfriend."

Thomas' face flushed at that, and Bren's darkened with anger. The boy was embarrassed at the suggestion he might have that sort of relationship with the girl. He didn't have and, as far as he knew, he didn't want it. And nor, he was sure, did she. They could be just friends. David knew that, of course. He was taunting them. Hoping for a reaction. Well, he'd not get one.

"Let us in, Womack!"

It was Bren shouting this time, following her friend's example. Time was running out, and their options were limited. She'd try anything.

"Womack?" David's voice was clearly shocked. He swore and the drone vanished, dropping down past the edge of the cliff, returning, no doubt, to its owner.

"He didn't like that," Thomas said with a tight smile.

"No, he didn't," replied Bren.

She didn't feel like smiling. What if they had just given up their only advantage? Or worse, what if the Spotters' leader knew the truth?

She had to tell Thomas. It would be better coming from her. She was sure David would take immense pleasure in the revelation, and Thomas could well be crushed.

"Womack! WOMACK! Let us in! IF you don't, you'll be..."

"Thomas," Bren interrupted the boy. He turned to look at her. "I need to tell you something."

"Can't it wait? They'll be here soon, and we've got no idea how to get inside yet."

Bren shook her head.

"No. I'm sorry but it won't."

The vehemence that had built up within Thomas from the climb, their intentions and the shouting at someone who might not even be here suddenly dissipated when he saw Bren's face. It was heavy and sad and shadowed.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Womack, Thomas."

"What about him?"

"He's..."