The Disappeared (33 page)

Janna edges back along our row and crouches down beside me.

‘How long is this going to take? I’ve got an interview at two,’ someone says.

‘It didn’t work. The whole thing is ruined,’ I say to Janna.

‘How about you give us some answers now?’ says Booming Voice.

Janna gives me a long look then she reaches down the front of her dress and pulls out the smallest AV bug I have ever seen. ‘It’s all on here,’ she says.

My heart lurches. That device will have copied all of the footage recorded by the official cameras. We can still show the public what he said. If we can get out of here.

We’re not the only ones who don’t want to be taken to the Leadership building. Lots of journalists are complaining.

‘I’m leaving,’ the man next to me says.

‘This is a disgrace,’ calls someone near the front.

There’s a rush towards the door, but the guards are blocking it.

I start pushing my way towards Ali again.

‘You can’t keep us here,’ the bearded man says. ‘I’m not going with you.’

‘Attendance is compulsory,’ the aide says.

More guards swarm out from the stage wings and start rounding people up.

Janna’s eyes dart about the room. She flicks her hair impatiently out of her eyes. ‘Oh efwurd,’ she says.

She’s finally realised that this isn’t just for her entertainment.

The guards are almost on us.

‘Don’t let them take you,’ I say. I stand up and pick up my chair and hurl it into the aisle. Janna stares at me. There’s a guard heading straight for me. I pick up another chair and whack him with it. Janna stops staring and picks up her own chair. She’s not the only one. The hall descends into chaos. The journalists are yelling and throwing punches at the guards, who are trying to restrain them and pull them out of the hall. Chairs are flying and one of the lighting towers topples with the sound of crunching metal. I reach the place where Ali was sat on that woman’s lap, but there’s no sign of her. I pick up a broken chair-leg to use as a weapon.

‘I’m getting out of here,’ Janna says. She pushes her way between angry journalists. She lifts a chair and hurls it through the French windows. People duck and scream as the glass shatters. Janna heads straight for the gap and some of the other journalists follow. But a surge of guards swarm up behind, grabbing at arms, clothes and hair.

They can’t reach Janna. She’s out first and she doesn’t look back. She sprints across the lawn with a guard in pursuit.

I weave away from the window where the guards are concentrated. I feel a tug on my jacket. I spin round, chair-leg raised.

It’s Ali.

‘What—?’ I say, but she pulls me three steps back into the maintenance room. She pushes the door shut and drags a stack of dusty chairs in front of it.

‘No people saw us,’ Ali says.

‘Ali . . . you’re talking.’

She nods her head as if I’d said it was time for dinner.

‘How are you talking?’

‘I had to. They were listening to that man telling all the wrong things. All the things he said were . . . were . . .’

‘Untrue?’

She nods. ‘I heard so many untrue things that I had to say the true thing.’

‘But—’

There’s a shriek from outside.

‘Blake,’ Ali says, ‘when they have got all the people they will look to find us.’

She’s right. They heard me asking questions and they heard Ali telling the truth. They’re not going to let us get away with that. I’ve put Ali in danger. This was a stupid idea. How did I ever think that we could take on The Leader? How could I be so deluded as to think that I could do something to help the Specials?

‘The people are fighting good but there are too many enforcer ones—’

‘Guards,’ I say.

‘Too many guards.’

‘We need more people.’

‘We’ve got more people,’ she says. ‘We’ve got hundreds of Specials. They’re ready to fight.’

‘But we can’t get to them. We can’t tell them,’ I say. I stare at the computer. ‘And that’s no use to us,’ I say. ‘I already know there’s no way of contacting the outside world. I checked out the computer system on my first day and there was only an internal . . .’ I dash to the computer.

‘What is it?’ Ali asks.

‘There’s an internal comms system. I’m going to send the Specials a message.’ I switch the computer on.

‘How?’

‘The computers are connected. I can write something on this and send it to the Specials’ computers in the grid and it will flash up on their screens.’ I pull up the communications menu and check
Message all student terminals
with my forefinger. Enough of the Specials can read now that I hope the message will get passed around.

‘What should I say?’ I ask Ali. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Say:
Time to fight. Go with Ilex and Kay. If you fight you get food and you get free
.’

I type as fast as I can then I tap the send icon.

There’s less banging and crashing coming from the hall. They’re subduing the journalists. I wonder if some of them are already on their way to the Leadership building. What will they do to them?

I listen for the sound of the Specials. Nothing, but some thumping and cursing. Those poor journalists. I just keep making things worse for people. And The Leader is getting away with it. I want him stopped. I want him to run into a pack of angry Specials and then I—

‘King Hell,’ I say.

‘What?’

‘The Specials won’t be able to get to us. They won’t be able to get through the door. We’ve still got the door card.’

Ali bites her lip. ‘They will come. Kay will think how to come to us.’

I groan. ‘We’re all in big trouble. I should never have started all this talk about stopping Academies.’

‘Blake, we have to get ready to fight.’

‘What’s the point? It’s all over.’

‘No. No giving up. You don’t give up. You said Specials should read and now the Specials can read. You said I can talk and I can. And all the time you say Academies are wrong and we should get out of the Academy. You’re right. Let’s get out. Let’s fight.’

I look at Ali. She’s clenching her little fists ready to take on a pack of guards.

I nod my head and I pick up my chair-leg again.

Then we hear it.

A rumbling.

Ali opens the door a crack and we peer out. There are still a number of journalists putting up a fight against the guards. In between the scuffles, crew members from the Info are hurriedly packing up equipment. One by one they stop still to listen to the rising sound. It’s like the rush of water getting closer. But it’s not water.

It’s Specials.

I can hear shrieking and the pounding of feet. They’re coming. From the sound of it, they’re all coming. The door is flung open and there’s Kay.

‘No more Academies!’ she shouts. ‘No more electric sh—’

The rest of what she says is drowned out by the screaming and growling of hundreds of Specials as they pour through the door. It’s chaos. The guards try to grab hold of students, but there are far too many of them. The remaining journalists break free and try to fight their way out. A wave of enforcers arrives, but the Specials don’t care any more; they fight them too.

It’s wonderful.

I step out of the cupboard. Kay rushes up to me and throws her arms around me. I press my face into her sweet hair.

‘We’ve got to find Janna,’ I say.

‘Who?’

‘She’s got what we need to show everyone that The Leader is bad. I think one of the guards got her.’

Kay nods and we start to work our way through the crowds. When we get close to Ilex I yell above the noise.

‘Blake!’ He beams at me.

‘They’ll send more guards soon. Get the Specials outside. Use the door card.’ I make to hand it over, but he holds up his own. ‘Kay took it from Rice.’

‘Nice work!’ I say. ‘Open all the doors and tell them to run for it.’

Ilex nods. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I’ve got to find someone.’

He turns back. As we push on, the word spreads that it’s time to get out, and the flow of the crowd turns. Now everyone is surging down the corridor back towards the newer part of the Academy.

In reception Ali is standing out of the way, up on the desk. When she sees Kay she climbs down and takes hold of her hand.

‘Where would they take the journalists?’ I say.

‘Vans,’ Ali says. ‘The man said, “Go to the vans”. What’s “vans”?’

‘Ali—!’ Kay says in amazement.

‘Vans are a vehicle,’ I interrupt. ‘Like a car. They must have gone down in the lift. To the car park.’

We fight our way across the reception area to the lift. Kay is squeezing Ali and telling her how pleased she is that she’s talking. The place is rammed with Specials all pushing back to the newer part of the Academy. I can hear a guard’s whistle, but I can’t see any of The Leader’s men. They’re completely outnumbered. We weave in and out of the Specials. Some of them are cramming bread into their mouths. They must have broken into the kitchens.

We reach the lift and I press the call button.

‘What’s the door?’ Kay asks.

‘It’s a lift.’ I press the call button again. ‘You know, like the enforcers have.’

The door opens. Kay peers in. ‘Is it not-dangerous?’

‘It’s safe, but you two should stay here.’ I press the close doors button and the button marked
B
for the basement car park, but before the doors slide shut Kay and Ali step in.

‘No,’ I say. But the doors have already closed behind them and I’ve got to be quick. ‘You can stay in the lift,’ I say.

We wait.

‘Is it going?’ Kay asks.

‘No, it’s efwurding not.’ I hit the basement button again and the lift hiccups downwards and then stops.

Waaaaaarrrrrrruuuuunnnnn! Waaaaaarrrrrrruuuuuunnnnnn!
A siren starts wailing somewhere outside the lift.

‘It’s the noise.’ Kay turns pale.

‘What noise?’ I say, stabbing at the lift controls again. We’ve got to find Janna before she’s taken away.

Kay is frozen.

‘What does it mean?’ I say.

‘The noise for everybody get out. You know, the hot-hurt noise.’

The hot-hurt? ‘Do you mean the fire alarm?’

She nods.

We’re in trouble. I hit the emergency button. It flashes, but nothing happens. The alarm shrieks on. I press every button on the controls in turn. Still nothing. Ali’s eyes dart from side to side. ‘Get out,’ she says.

‘We will,’ I say. I reach past her and pull open a tiny door. Behind it are another set of controls labelled
manual override
. I hit the down arrow, but nothing happens. Next to the arrows is the outline of an old-fashioned lock.

‘It needs an override key,’ I say.

As well as the controls there’s a simple communicator. I flick the switch for a connection. The screen crackles into life. It’s an efwurding recorded message. A woman with hair like a helmet says, ‘
We are aware of a malfunction in lift ML17, location A34. Please remain calm and wait for an engineer. We will now connect you to the service person in your building
.’ The screen blinks and shows us an empty office. I don’t know what room it is, or who is supposed to be in there, but right now they’re probably running away from the fire.

‘We’re trapped,’ I say. ‘No one knows we’re here and—’

Kay glares at me. Ali’s eyes are stretched wide.

‘It’s all right,’ I say to her. ‘Everything will be all right. It’s fine.’

We stare at each other. Under the screech of the alarm comes the thumping of feet. Everyone is running. The lift shakes. We’re going to die. My muscles stiffen with horror. The lift is going to fall, to plummet down. We’ll be hurled around and when we land I won’t even know which way is up. The idea of being imprisoned like that, buried in a metal tomb without even the sense of which direction is the way out, makes my stomach contract. I can’t bear it. I can’t be trapped like that. I don’t want to suffocate.

‘Blake.’ Kay shakes me. ‘Lift. Ali. Up.’

She’s staring up at a hatch in the ceiling. I bend down. My legs are shaking. Ali clambers on to my shoulders and I stand up. We’ve got to get out.

‘Push harder, Ali,’ I say.

I brace my legs to take the strain.

‘Try twisting it,’ Kay says.

Ali tenses with the effort.

‘It’s no good,’ Kay says. ‘It’s maybe locked on the outside.’

Ali gets down. Kay clicks the buttons again and flicks the switch on the communicator.

There’s nobody there. There’s no way out.

Something bangs against the door. Near the top, but right outside. I hammer my fists against the smooth metal. ‘HELP!’ I scream. ‘WE’RE TRAPPED.’

Kay and Ali join in with the thumping till I hold up my hand. We listen for a response. Nothing, but the alarm.

I look round at the walls. We’re sealed in. I feel the weight of the building above us and imagine it collapsing on the lift. Leaving us buried, but alive. I’ve got to get out. I need to get outside, to be in the open, to see the sky. I thump the
B
button with my fist. Then I lean into the communicator and scream, ‘WE’RE TRAPPED! GET US OUT!’ My breath is coming in gasps.

‘Blake . . .’ Kay says.