The Supernaturalist by Eoin Colfer

Sunrise used to be orange. But now sunrises were a multicoloured affair, as the sun’s light illuminated whatever chemicals were in the smog that particular day. Today the smog was deep purple, so that probably meant pesticides. The air would stink by noon. Still, it was better than red. Nobody ventured outdoors without a mask when the smog was red.
    The street vendors were busy even at this hour, firing up their mobile braziers and barbecues, ready for the breakfast trade. It was too early for the gangs, though. Hoodlums tended to keep vampires’ hours. The streets would be relatively safe until late afternoon.
    Stefan bought a pazza from Carlo’s Kitchen, and made his way towards the crematorium. Pazzas were a new fast food craze. Calzoni pizza stuffed with pasta shells and various sauces. The perfect food for a person on the move.
    Stefan walked along Journey Avenue keeping his eyes on the pazza. In Westside, people would steal the food right out of your mouth. It was a sorry state of affairs. If this was the City of the Future, Stefan would take the past any day of the week.
    He was in a bad mood and it wasn’t just the smog. In spite of all his efforts, the group had taken on another stray. OK, so the kid was a Spotter. But he couldn’t be more than fourteen years old and he had absolutely no experience of surviving in the city. Mona was young too,but she was streetwise and gutsy. Cosmo looked like the streets would eat him alive in minutes. Stefan already felt responsible for the boy, though he had no desire to be. He was barely old enough to be responsible for himself. It was one thing to risk his own life in pursuit of the Parasites, but to put someone else in danger was something else entirely. Especially someone as green as Cosmo Hill.
    Five city blocks down, he arrived at the Solace Crematorium. The building was inevitably pig-iron grey, but the manager had made an effort to cheer up the place by having computer graphic angels flit up and down the facade.
    Stefan went round the back to the Hall of Eternal Rest. He swiped his resident’s card and passed through the turnstile. His card activated what appeared to be a wall of mirrors, but was in fact a ten-storey carousel of small glass boxes. The magnetic strip in his swipe card summoned a box from the top level. He followed its progress through the rows, twinkling down the levels to a vacant booth on ground level.
    Stefan selected the no-music option on the touch-sensitive screen and entered the booth. The box slid from its compartment on to a velvet cushion.
    ‘I don’t like all this, Mum,’ muttered Stefan, abashed. ‘Velvet and fairies. But believe it or not, there are places a lot worse than here.’
    The box was six inches square, transparent, with abrass plate on the front. The inscription was short and simple. Seven words.
Dearest Mother. Much loved. Gone too soon.
    Stefan pulled the bunch of flowers from beneath his overcoat, laying them on the cushion before his mother’s ashes.
    ‘Lilies, Mum. Your favourites.’
    Stefan’s spiky hair had fallen over his eyes. It made him look years younger.
    ‘We picked up another Spotter, Mum. He’s a good boy. Sharp. He saved Mona tonight. A quick thinker. Definitely Supernaturalist material. But he’s just a kid, a no-sponsor right out of Clarissa Frayne.’
    Stefan rested his head in his hands.
    ‘But even with Cosmo, there are too many of these blue demons. Every day, more and more. They come out in the daytime now, you know. Even if you have the smallest cut on your arm, you better watch out. Nobody is safe. Every night we pop a hundred, and the next day there are a thousand new Parasites to take their place.’
    Stefan’s young brow creased with the worry lines of a man three times his age. ‘Am I crazy, Mum? Are we all crazy? Are the Parasites really there at all? And if they are, how can a bunch of kids ever hope to fight them? The others think I’m their leader. I see the way they turn to me,