I’m amazed at how calm I’m feeling. My hands are steady. Her gun is pointing at me, but her arms are relaxed. She’s not ready to shoot.
She swings the gun, pointing it at the door behind me.
“Get out of my way,” she says, and there’s no kindness in her voice.
I shrug. If this is it, if this is the invasion, I need to find a way out.
And if Bex is on the winning side, maybe this is how I get out of here alive.
Door
Bex
Ketty shrugs, and steps away from the door.
“Fine.” She says, standing back, waiting for me to move.
I point my gun at her, lining it up with the centre of her torso. Willing myself to see the silhouette from the firing range, not the Senior Recruit. Not the person who held me down while Jackson punched me over and over. Not my mother’s torturer.
I can hear my team, climbing the stairs behind me.
“You first. Get me inside.”
She shrugs again, and turns to the door.
William
Ketty
I’m walking into the Terrorism Committee. I’m walking into the conference room, into a meeting so classified that I’ve never been told who sits behind this door.
I’m about to face Brigadier Lee and Colonel Bracken, with a gun to my back.
I push the door open.
The murmur of voices stops instantly, and as I walk into the room, everyone is watching me. Bracken, Lee, Holden. But their eyes shift to the figure behind me. The person holding the gun.
We’re walking into the middle of the room. There’s a U-shaped arrangement of tables, lined with committee members, and a clear space in the centre for presentations.
For us.
I keep my hands up, where everyone can see them. I keep Bex behind me, so it’s clear I’m being threatened.
“Corporal Smith!” Lee sounds furious, and his face is turning a deep shade of red.
“Sir,” I say, quietly, risking a glance behind me.
But Bex isn’t pointing the gun at me any more. She’s staring, open-mouthed, at the far end of the room.
“Will!”
I look round, following her gaze.
William Richards is sitting at the head of the table.
He’s wearing a smart shirt and a tie. No prison jumpsuit or handcuffs, here.
And he’s smiling.
Betrayal
Bex
“Will!”
I can’t help shouting. It’s Will, the leader of the Makepeace Farm rebels, sitting at the table with all these people in uniform.
“You’re alive!” I look around, taking in the rest of the committee. The rank insignia on their uniforms. Will, looking out of place in a white shirt and a tie.
He should be locked up. He’s one of the rebels these people are hunting.
“What are you doing here?”
Will shrugs. “You escaped from the farm, then, Ellman?”
I can’t help nodding. I can’t understand what’s happening. Why Will is here.
“Good for you,” he says, quietly.
He’s not in uniform. But he’s not in a prison jumpsuit, either. He’s not handcuffed. He’s here – part of the Terrorism Committee – and he’s a free man.
And I realise.
He’s the link to the resistance groups. He’s the one who’s been giving their details to the government.
There’s a sick, sinking feeling in my stomach. This is our traitor. This is the person who’s been giving targets and weapons to the resistance cells. He’s responsible for their bombings, and he’s responsible for their trials. Every resistance member caught after an attack, every rebel sent to a firing squad – they’re on Will’s conscience.
“How could you? How could you help these people?”
He shakes his head, and his smile fades.
“You wouldn’t understand,” he says.
I roll my eyes. Will has no idea what I would understand.
“What did you do?” He looks down at the table. “What did you do?”
He looks up at me, and there’s fear in his eyes. “They’ve got my daughter, Bex. They’ve got Sheena. If I don’t help …”
I think of Mum. Of everything that Ketty’s put her through, because she’s trying to get to me. I think of Dr Richards, sitting in a cell.
And I think of all the bombs the resistance has planted. All the people they’ve killed, doing the government’s work for them. All their victims, caught up in the attacks. All the resistance prisoners, sent to firing squads while Will sits here, protected, and hands over their names.
“Coward!” I spit the word at him, and he nods, his head bowed.
I’m raising my gun before I can stop myself.
Sides
Ketty
I stare at William. I thought he was in a cell at Belmarsh, locked up with Sheena and Elizabeth and the other prisoners. Bex is shouting at him, demanding to know what he’s doing here.
There’s a movement at the corner of my eye. Lee, pulling his gun from his holster. Raising it to point at Bex’s head.
Waiting for her to turn round.
I drop my hand slowly to my hip.
Keep talking, Bex. Keep everyone’s eyes on you.
“If it isn’t Corporal Smith, Bracken’s mother-figure, and Recruit Ellman, playing at being a soldier.” Lee leans back in his chair, draping one arm over the back, and pointing the gun at Bex with the other.
Really? Mother-figure? That’s what you think of me?
Bex turns back, spotting his gun too late to bring her visor down. She stares at the handgun, her eyes fixed on the barrel.
“Is this the invasion, Recruit? You and your friends from the RTS?” He looks round the room, laughing. “I’m sure we’re all quaking in our boots.”
His eyes widen in mock surprise. “Or perhaps you’re here to save your friend out there?” He points at the windows, with their view over the back of the stage. “It would be a shame to come all this way, and fail, wouldn’t it?”
Bex is shaking. Her gun clicks against her armour as her hands tremble.
“Or perhaps you’d like to join her. Stand with her while she takes a bullet?” He looks at the gun in his hand. “Maybe I shouldn’t kill you now. Maybe I should give you a chance to say goodbye before you both face the firing squad, live on TV.” He glances at William, and gives him a cold smile. “And maybe it’s time for Sheena to join her friends on the stage?” He nods to someone on the far side of the room. The man pulls a radio from his hip and starts barking orders.
William shakes his head, reaching both hands out to Lee.
“Please, no …”
There are footsteps from the corridor. People running up the last of the stairs.
The door to the room starts to open again. More soldiers?
I wrap my hand around my gun.
Whose side are you on?
Object
Bex
I’m staring down the barrel of a gun, and this time I don’t have my visor to protect me.
I’m staring at the gun, and the blood is pounding in my ears, but I can’t block out this man’s words.
He’s threatening me, and he’s insulting my friends.
And he’s stopping me from getting to Margie.
I’m shaking, with fear and with rage. I’ve come this far. I need to finish my task.
I need to make my broadcast, and I need to help Dan.
I need to live.
“Shame about Margaret, really. She’s a pretty little thing.” He smirks. “I can think of things I’d rather do to her than fill her with bullets, but you make your choices, and you take the consequences.” He raises his voice. “Right, William?”
If Will responds, I don’t hear him. The door opens, and solders in armour file into the room, but I’m too angry to notice whether they’re here to help me, or arrest me.
He’s talking about Margie. He dares to talk about her as if she’s an object
, as if she’s not important. I’m standing, facing his gun, in the middle of a government meeting. I’ve trained for this, and I’ve put myself in danger to help my friend. I left my safety and comfort behind, and I feel completely exposed, standing here, surrounded by people who want me dead.
And he’s saying disgusting things about the person I’m here to save.
I tighten my grip on my gun.
Choice
Ketty
The soldiers file into the room. I watch to see where they point their weapons.
Lee is insulting Margaret, and Bex is fighting to control her anger. I can hear her tight, quick breathing as she listens to his comments.
The soldiers raise their guns, and they’re pointed at the committee. The man with the radio drops it on the table, holding his hands in the air.
We’re outnumbered. We’re outgunned.
This is the invasion.
And I’m on the wrong side.
Bex starts to lift her rifle, and I watch Lee’s knuckles whiten as he grips his gun.
If this is the end, I need Bex on my side.
And Lee is about to shoot.
I think about Lee’s manipulations. Giving me the PowerGel to fix my wounded knee, then refusing to replace it after the fight at the bunker. All the humiliations and insults he’s thrown at me in London. The way he used Conrad to get to me. His taunts and smirks, and the way he gloated over my mistakes.
I pull my gun from the holster, as fast as I can, and point it at Lee.
Before he can react to Bex’s gun, before he can shoot, I fire.
Hit
Bex
I’m done. I’m not letting this smug man insult me, or my friend.
All the fear, all the worry, all the tension of the last two weeks takes hold of me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this angry.
Fiona wants us to detain the Terrorism Committee. To stop them leaving, and to stop them contacting anyone outside this room.
I can do better than that.
I lift my gun.
And Ketty raises hers.
Before I can shoot, she fires, sending a bullet into his chest.
And I can see the firing range. I can see the target, waiting for my gun.
There’s a look of shock on Ketty’s face as she drops her gun to her side.
I line up the target, and I shoot, sending my bullet after hers.
A red stain begins to spread across the front of his uniform.
He chokes, once, bright red blood running from his mouth. His head falls back, resting on the back of the chair.
His chest is still.
He’s not breathing.
Protected
Ketty
I push my gun back into the holster, fighting panic, trying not to think about what I’ve done.
Lee is dead, and I killed him. We killed him.
Get out, Ketty. Run.
I reach out and grab Bex by her elbow. She stares at Lee, her gun still pointed at his chest.
“You win, Bex,” I say, quietly as I pull her towards me. “These are your soldiers?” I tip my head towards the door.
She nods, looking up at me and lowering her gun.
“I just saved your life.” She looks shocked. “He was about to put a bullet in your head. I stopped him.” She nods, her eyes wide. “So buy me some time. Let me leave.” She nods again.
There are more people filing in through the door. The soldiers fan out, each one pointing a gun at one of the committee members. William stands up, hands held up in front of him. One of the soldiers walks over, smiling, and William points towards the door.
I need to move quickly. I need to talk to Bracken. I need to understand what’s happening, and I need to stay safe. I have to get Bracken out of here, and I have to work fast.
There are guards in the corridor, and guards around the tables. Keeping Bex with me, I push my way through to where Bracken is sitting next to the door, his head in his hands.
“Come on, Sir,” I whisper. “We need to get out.”
He looks up at me, and there is defeat in his eyes.
“What did you do, Ketty? Lee is …” He shakes his head.
I grab his elbow, drag him out of his chair, and pull him towards the door. William pushes his way out in front of me, the soldiers shaking his hand and slapping his back as he walks past. A couple of the guards step out to stop me, but they fall back when they see the look on my face, and Bex walking behind me. I push Bracken ahead of me out into the corridor, and leave Bex standing in the doorway. Another group of people in black armour reaches the top of the stairs, carrying heavy equipment between them, and cutting off our escape. I keep my head down, turn away along the corridor, and keep walking.
Broadcast
Bex
There’s confusion in the room as the camera crew pushes past me through the door and tries to clear space in one corner. I pull my helmet off and a woman with a clipboard straightens my hair and hands me a list of names. Someone is talking to me, but I can’t make sense of what they’re saying.
I’ve just killed someone.
I lifted my gun, and I fired a bullet into his chest.
I look down at the list in my hand. These are the people Fiona wants me to name in my speech. This is the hit list for the resistance – the people we won’t allow to escape.
I look around the room. There are voices, and shouting, but it’s just noise. Will’s gone. Ketty’s gone. The committee members are sitting quietly, guarded by soldiers with guns. There are medics dragging the man we shot out of the door, and more OIE fighters lining the edges of the room. The fighters nod encouragement to me as the portable lights make the meeting room impossibly bright, and the director takes me by the elbow and stands me in front of the camera.
The noise drops away.
“You’re up, Bex.”
My mind is a white space as I face the camera, and for a moment I think I won’t be able to speak.
I’ve just shot someone. I’ve just killed someone. Me, and Ketty.
And I let Ketty walk away.
I can’t think about it. I can’t allow myself to react.
This is it. This is what I’m here for. This is what I promised Fiona, and this is how I buy Dan and the others time to rescue Margie. I close my eyes. I need to find the determination that brought me here. The fire in my chest. I need to ride the adrenaline before it fades. I think about Mum, locked up and waiting for me. I think about Ketty, standing with me and saving my life, after everything we’ve been through. I think about pulling my trigger, and sending my bullet into the man in the chair.
And I know what to say. I open my eyes.
“Action!” The Director points at me, and we’re live. All those screens in Trafalgar Square, in Hyde Park, and around the platform on Horse Guards Parade. All those people, watching me. I nearly choke, I nearly run from the camera, but Mum’s voice comes back to me.
You’re a hero Bex. You always have been.
And the words come.
“You know who I am. You’ve seen my face, and you’ve described me as a terrorist, but that’s not true. My name is Bex Ellman. I was taken from my life, and signed up to fight by your government. I’ve been a recruit, a public guardian, and a rebel. But one thing I am not is a terrorist.”
I push away thoughts of the South Bank bomb. Of the video I made, encouraging the bombers. I force myself to focus on the camera.
“There is a resistance in this country. I am a member of it. But we are not terrorists. The government has been lying to you.
“It’s not the resistance that’s been planning the bombs. It’s the government. It’s the army. It’s the people who should be protecting you.”
I pause. It is so important that the people watching believe this. I think back to Leominster. To the crashed cars and the pieces of people’s lives, lying in the road. Teddy bears, handbags, shoes – pieces of lives that had already ended.
“I was there, in Leominster,” I say, and giv
e that a moment to sink in. “I saw the weapons. Government issue, planted by people who hide behind their uniforms and their titles. But they can’t hide any more. We will name them, these faceless people.”
I glance at the list in my hand.
“Commander Holden and Brigadier Lee, and a whole staff of people who closed their eyes and looked the other way as the people of Leominster died.
“Colonel Bracken, who knew what was going on, and failed to stop it.
“Major General Franks, Leader of the Home Forces, who washed her hands of responsibility.
“The government is so desperate for power, so desperate to keep you controlled, that they are creating false flag attacks every day, every week, just to keep you living in fear.
“Right now, I’m on your screens. I’m patched in over the PIN feed, and there are resistance soldiers marching on London. It seems as if the world is ending, I know. It doesn’t feel safe. But that’s because their world is ending. Their world is finished. We are ending it – the fear, the hate, the false flags and the false blame. We are ending it today.”
I glance at the director, and he’s grinning, gesturing for me to go on. I can do this. I can make people see.
“To the recruits on patrol: work together. Forget your training. Stand with your fellow recruits. Protect the public from the real enemy, and take your country back. Take your world back.
“Turn your guns on the soldiers. Turn your guns on the liars who run this country. Take back your lives. No more front-line dolls. No more kids sent to die for the power of others.
“To all of you, wherever you are. Take your power back. Take your freedom back. Take your country back. Join our resistance. Don’t wait. Don’t go home and cower in fear.
“Make this happen today.
“Together, we are an army. Together, we can …” The director looks down at his monitor and swears.
Victory Day (Battle Ground YA UK Dystopia Series Book 5) Page 6
