In a house a million miles away, Lauren Harrison jerked up in bed, her heart pounding. The fourteen-year-old girl clutched her spinning head and gasped as various, random faces and images whirled throughout her head. It was the same nightmare she’d had every single night for the past four months, but as always, as soon as she opened her eyes she could remember nothing of the dream. Although faces swum in and out of her mind, as hard as she tried to maintain them, they vanished within seconds and again, she sat feeling frustrated, her heart still racing in fear.

      Lauren glanced at the digital alarm clock on her bedside table; it read quarter past eleven. It was the first week of the summer holidays and Lauren was determined to catch up on much of the sleep she had missed during the school term. However this was extremely difficult when her slumber was plagued with haunting sounds and terrifying images which left her sat up in the dark, panting and afraid to go back to sleep, every single night.

      She took several more minutes to calm herself before swinging her legs out of the duvet and perching on the end of her bed. She peered in the floor-length mirror propped against the wall and groaned at the reflection; her long brown hair was in a tangled mess even a brush couldn’t drag into submission; yesterday’s make-up was smudged down her face, giving her the appearance of a badly-beaten panda; and there were dark shadows beneath her eyes which clearly documented her lack of sleep.

     As she sat there, the minutes ticking closer to midday, a faint smell of cooked bacon wafted up the stairway and Lauren’s stomach gave a longing grumble; she hadn’t eaten much yesterday and was absolutely starving. She wriggled into her slippers and dressing gown and headed down the stairs.

      In the kitchen she found her father, George, flicking through a large newspaper at the table, an empty plate in front of him. “Morning love,” he grinned over his paper as Lauren entered the room. “Morning,” she grumbled, tugging open a cupboard and taking out a cereal box. “Thanks for saving me some bacon,” she added, wrinkling her nose at the cereal. “The early bird catches the worm, I’m afraid,” George chuckled, and Lauren shot him a dirty look as she slid into a seat opposite him. “Where are mum and the boys?” Lauren asked.

     Lauren had two younger brothers: eleven-year-old Liam and eight-year-old Jake. Although Liam could be extremely annoying at times, he tended to stay out of the way and spend all his time playing on his games consoles in his bedroom. Jake was a typical child who had a particular fixation with toy dinosaurs. This was the most annoying thing about Jake: due to him, the entire house was covered in prehistoric pieces of plastic.

      “Mum and Liam have nipped to the shop to get some food because there’s nothing in at the moment and Jake’s in the front room watching telly,” George replied, returning to his newspaper. There was a few minutes pause in the conversation as George shuffled his papers and Lauren munched her cereal thoughtfully; the only sound was the low buzz of the television from further down the hall. It sounded as though Liam was watching cartoons.

       Once Lauren had done eating her cereal, she put her bowl into the sink and followed the sound of the television into the living room, where she found Liam sprawled on the largest sofa. As Lauren had expected, Liam had on some sort of cartoon involving what looked like ninjas. The ninjas had guns, and every time they fired one Liam would point his finger in a gun-shape at the television and mime the exploding sounds. Lauren found this extremely annoying.

      “Shut up, will you?” she snapped, after several minutes of gun-shaped gestures. Liam said nothing but turned to her, pointed his cocked finger and made another of the noises. “Shut up!” Lauren squealed, throwing a cushion at Liam. It bounced off his head, barely touching him, but he let out a loud wail regardless which brought George running into the living room.

     “What on earth is going off in here?” he yelled, looking furious. Liam rubbed his head and cried, “Lauren’s throwing things at me!”

      George turned and frowned at Lauren. “Will you stop winding him up?”

Lauren found this grossly unfair. “Hold on, he was winding me up! He kept making those stupid noises, all I did was throw the pillow at –“

      “I don’t care what happened, can you just stop arguing?” George barked, “I have a headache as it is!”

      “That’s not fair, Dad! Don’t let her get away with throwing things at me!” Liam wailed, flopping onto the floor in protest. “Liam, be quiet!” George ordered as the doorbell rang. “Lauren, apologise to him.”

      Lauren looked at her father, scandalised. “No! I did nothing wrong. I’m going to answer the door,” she huffed, storming out of the front room and slamming the door shut behind her. It was only as she got to the front door that she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and realised that she was still in her pyjamas; her embarrassment intensified when she opened the door to see Sam, the boy from across the road, standing there.

       Sam Clarke had been Lauren’s best friend ever since he had moved into the house opposite when they were five years old. Although many girls found Sam extremely attractive, Lauren had only ever seen him as her friend, yet she understood where the attraction lay: Sam had thick dark hair and vivid green eyes, stood at almost six feet tall and was the captain of the football team. However today, he looked an absolutely mess. His hair, usually swept to the side in a flattering style, was in a tousled mess, as though he’d been running his hands through it all night. His eyes were red and bloodshot, with deep purple shadows beneath them to rival Lauren’s; it appeared she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been getting much sleep. He looked exhausted and afraid; he jumped at every slight noise and movement.

      “Hi, Lauren…” he mumbled, not quite meeting her eyes, “Can I come in for a minute?”

      “Erm, yes, of course,” Lauren replied, stepping aside to allow him in. He paused in the hallway for a moment, still not looking her in the eyes. “Can you get to my house as soon as possible?” he eventually said quietly and calmly, although it seemed to take a lot of effort to get the words out. “Yes, of course,” Lauren said, “Are you alright Sam?”

     She felt a great deal of concern for him; she’d never seen him look like this. Sam looked petrified at her question, however. “Yes! Yes, I’m fine,” he snapped, “Just get to mine as soon as you can alright? Be there in about ten minutes.”

      “Well, I need a shower and stuff,” Lauren muttered, running her hand through her hair, “So I’ll be about an hour and a half…?”

      “No!” Sam cried, looking her straight in the eyes for the first time since he had arrived, “As soon as possible, okay? It’s really important.”

     He turned and let himself out of the front door, leaving Lauren confused in the hallway. She stayed still for a few moments, pondering Sam’s strange behaviour, before turning to go up the stairs and get dressed. She had never been ready in such a short space of time; she darted about getting dressed and brushing her teeth, and barely five minutes had passed when she was ready to leave. She considered washing her hair, but realised she had to find out what Sam’s problem was, and so made do with tying it up.

      “Dad, I’m going out!” she called as she dashed down the stairs and pulled the nearest pair of shoes onto her feet. “No you’re not, after the way you just spoke to me!” he replied from the living room, “You’re grounded!” However Lauren ignored his calls and raced out of the front door.

      As she walked down Sam’s garden path, she felt strangely uneasy; she’d always felt comfortable around Sam and his family, having spent so much time around them, but where was something different about today. She was almost afraid of that she was about to find out.

      She got to the front door, her stomach contracting unpleasantly, and raised a fist to knock. However her knuckles had barely brushed with the wood when it flew open and a pair of hands yanked her over the threshold. She stumbled into the hallway and turned to see Sam’s mother, Marie, hastily fastening up numerous locks and bolts which had appeared since Lauren’s last visit to the house. Marie fastened the last bolt and slumped against the door, panting exhaustedly, closing her eyes for a moment; then she seemed to remember her company and darted forwards to pull Lauren into a tight hug.

     “Oh Lauren, thank goodness you’re alright, I was so worried…” Marie breathed into Lauren’s ear, sounding ecstatically relieved. Lauren wriggled from her rib-cracking embrace and laughed awkwardly. “Alright…erm, do you know where Sam is?”

     “Yes! He’s upstairs, I’ll just go and get him – you take a seat in the living room, I’ll be back in a minute…”

     Marie set off up the stairs at pace and Lauren went into the front room; she had been in this house so many times she knew it as well as her own. She perched on the edge of one of the sofas, peering around the familiar room: the large mantelpiece covered in photograph frames and ornaments with the decorative mirror above it; the two beige sofas at adjacent angles; the television in the corner; the swirling pattern of the wallpaper. She traced her finger along the nearest wall, following the circles and flicks; she became so engrossed in this that she barely noticed when Sam and Marie came running back down the stairs. They paused in the hallway; it sounded as though they were having a hushed argument. A minute or so later, Sam pushed Marie into the front room and she took a seat opposite whilst he took one beside Lauren.

     “Right…Lauren…” Marie mumbled, glancing nervously at Lauren. Lauren gave her an awkward smile, anxious as to what was coming next. Marie remained silent, so Lauren urged her on. “What’s the matter?”

      Marie and Sam exchanged a hurried look which they probably didn’t expect Lauren to notice, before Marie turned away again, wringing her hands, her mouth upturned at the corners.

      “Are you alright?” Lauren asked, glancing from Marie to Sam; both looked upset and worried, as though they really didn’t want to be there. Marie looked back at Lauren and opened and closed her mouth several times. “What do you know about Sam’s father, Dean?” she asked eventually.

       Lauren frowned at the brashness of the question; however it set her mind astir. Now she thought of it, she didn’t know much at all. She had never met Sam’s father, and Sam never mentioned him; it had come into her head a few times to ask questions about him, but she had never been able to muster enough courage. She knew that it must be a sensitive subject with Sam; she wondered if his parents were still married. It was a very unlikely if Marie’s husband was never present, yet Marie was never seen without the ring signifying her marriage. This was the one area of Sam’s life that Lauren knew nothing about.

     “Erm…nothing, really,” Lauren replied, “Why?”

Marie seemed to be pondering her next choice of words carefully. “His name’s Dean. You have a lot more in common with him than you’d believe.”

      “Do you…are you still in contact with him?” Lauren asked nervously, worried at how her hosts would react; Lauren breathed a sigh of relief when Marie’s face lit up. “Oh yes! We see him quite regularly. He hates missing out on seeing Sam growing up, but it can’t be helped.”

     “Where is he?” Lauren questioned.

Marie fell silent again. She glanced back at Sam, and this time Lauren followed her gaze; Sam’s blank expression had suddenly turned dark and furious; he looked quite terrifying. Lauren felt him clench his fists against her; he straightened his upper body, tensing angrily. Marie looked away, pursing her lips.

     “He works away a lot,” she said loudly, and Lauren felt Sam’s firsts unclench; she found his sudden fury very odd. “What’s up with you?” she said, turning to him. Sam flinched, as though her voice had made him jump. “What, me? Nothing. I just don’t really want this conversation,” he said quickly. “Listen to my mum.”

    “Where does he work?” Lauren continued, attempting to ignore Sam.

“A very long way away. He’s a sort of soldier I suppose…he makes battle plans, fights in wars, all sorts of things.”

      “So he’s in the army?” Lauren asked, and to her surprise Marie gave a silvery laugh. “Oh no! His job makes the army look like day care!” she chuckled; Sam suddenly leapt to his feet.

      “Stop it. Tell her now,” he thundered, sounding so terrifying Lauren jumped. Marie looked afraid; she gingerly gestured for Sam to sit down, as though too scared to speak out against him. “Tell me what?” Lauren asked, trying to calm the mood. Sam looked down at her from where he stood, and his face relaxed into a pitying pose. “Tell her, mum,” he repeated in a softer tone, sitting back down. He shuffled closer to Lauren and put his arm around her comfortingly; she began to feel slightly afraid of what was coming next.

       “What’s happening?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Tell me, now!”

Marie glanced at Sam, who returned with a menacing look. “I – I – you’re a Voja,” she garbled. Lauren paused, pondering Marie’s words before replying. “I – what?” she laughed. All that build-up, to absolute nonsense?

     “A Voja,” Marie repeated quietly, looking at the floor again. Lauren turned to Sam, expecting an explanation; he too looked away. “What’s that?” Lauren asked. “The same as what Dean is,” came Marie’s reply.

     “But you just said he was a soldier?” Lauren answered, getting increasingly confused by the minute.

      “Soldier, warrior, defender, protector, whatever you want to call it,” Marie said agitatedly.

      “Erm…ok, what does that mean?”

“Lauren, you’re more special than you could ever know!” Marie cried, “You have the fate of an entire world, resting on your shoulders!”

      Lauren paused; the seriousness was reflected on both Sam’s and Marie’s face; however this was absolutely incredible. She began to laugh.

      “Why are you laughing?” Marie frowned; Lauren stopped immediately. “You’re absolutely mental. What are you on about?”

      Marie sighed, trying to choose the best way to go about explaining. “You see…your great-grandfather, your dad’s granddad. He was an incredible man, with incredible powers. He had a similar job to Dean; he fought against an evil force, absolutely determined to bring down the world. This force, Narza, was incredibly power hungry; he’d do anything to gain control. He’s been a massive threat to Genavark, this other world, for almost a hundred years, and then years and years ago, he was brought down, by your great-grandfather and his accomplices. However, he’s back, with a vengeance, and this time he won’t just stop at Genavark. We need you to stop him.”

     “My great-grandfather? I’ve never even met the man, my dad said they had nothing to do with him – you’re out of your mind. If this terrorist person, Narza or whatever it was, is trying to destroy the world, the government would stop him, the world wouldn’t just sit and watch, this isn’t Hitler. What’s a fourteen-year-old girl meant to do?” Lauren replied, beginning to get angry; this was really annoying her. However the sincerity didn’t leave Marie’s face, or Sam’s; in fact, their composure’s were turning to pity.

     “Lauren, you don’t seem to understand,” Marie said softly. “We always knew there was something about you. We’ve watched your family through three generations, every single member of your father’s bloodline, and only you show the same exceptional talents as your great-grandfather.”

      “I’m a perfectly normal person!” Lauren cried out, her voice going up several octaves in her frustration. “What kind of game is this, because it’s starting to get really pathetic. How old do you think I am?!”

      “That’s exactly my point, Lauren,” Marie mumbled. “You’re so young, yet you have so much resting on you. However the time has come for you to know. We need you, Lauren. Genavark needs you.”

     “Where is Genavark? I took Geography, and I’ve never even heard of it!” Lauren questioned. Surely this was just some cock-and-bull story, some joke that Marie and Sam had planned? It seemed like the sort of stunt Sam would pull, yet the sincerity on his face was making her stomach flutter with slight panic, mingled in with the annoyance.

      “It’s about ten thousand light years away, I don’t know. The only way we get there is through transportation,” Marie replied. Lauren answered with a blank look. “What on earth are you on about? I think I’d better go now,” she snapped, getting to her feet and heading to the hallway.