Victory Day (Battle Ground YA UK Dystopia Series Book 5)

by Rachel Churcher

  I stand, and slowly move towards the interrogation room, putting the chair between me and the guards.

  Charlotte is watching me. Bex is watching the guards. Everyone is waiting.

  There are six guards in the room now. Everyone is silent, watching them. Watching their guns.

  The first guard looks around the room, sweeping his gun over the crowd. His gaze rests on me. Slowly, I raise my hands, palms out. The barrel of his gun points at my chest, and he stares at my uniform.

  The missing epaulets. The space where my name tag should be.

  “Corporal Smith?”

  My knee starts to shake, and I shift my weight slightly until I’m steady on my feet.

  “Corporal Smith!” He shouts again.

  “Yes, Sir.” My voice is steady, but quiet.

  I’m trapped. I’m pinned down. And I still don’t know who is pointing the gun.

  “Over here, Corporal.”

  I glance at Bex, and she glances at me, then back at the guard.

  Your turn, Bex. This is where you pay me back.

  I step forward, hands raised. I keep walking, until I’m standing in front of the guard. He lowers his gun.

  For a moment, I think I’m safe. I think the fight isn’t over. That this is my side, saving me.

  But then the guard pulls out handcuffs and shouts at me to hold my hands out in front of me. I look at him, as if he’s Conrad, taunting me. As if he’s a disobedient recruit. But he gestures with the cuffs until I hold out my hands.

  I can feel the eyes of everyone in the room, watching me. Watching him, snapping the cuffs onto my wrists. I give the room a defiant look, but all I see is Elizabeth, staring at me, a cold smile on her face.

  Come on Bex. Speak up.

  But she stays silent. And I realise that she’s going to betray me after all.

  Promise

  Bex

  Everything happens so quickly. They take Ketty away, and before I can speak up, they’re moving into the room, patting everyone down and taking our weapons. Pushing us back to the far end of the space. I glance at Dan, and he shrugs. I make my way over to Mum, and stand with her, her hand in mine.

  One of the guards steps forward.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for your cooperation. In a few minutes, the King will be arriving at Belmarsh.” There’s a murmur from the people around me. “He would like to personally congratulate the Face of the Resistance, and to formally release the prisoners from their detention.” I glance at Dan, and he nods back at me, smiling. “In the meantime, make yourselves comfortable. This is an informal occasion, and His Majesty would like to offer his personal thanks to everyone involved in today’s events.”

  Mum’s grip tightens on my hand. “That’s you, Bex. He wants to thank you.” Her face is white, and her voice is soft, but she’s smiling. She shakes my hand in hers. “The King wants to thank you!”

  I smile at her, but I can’t stop thinking about Ketty. I’ve screwed up. I’ve let them take her away.

  “Bex?” I’m watching the guards. I pull my hand away from Mum. “What is it?”

  “Ketty.” I say, into the silence, and there’s surprise in my voice. “I didn’t save her.”

  Locks

  Ketty

  The soldiers lead me out of the waiting room, and up the stairs. They wait for the door to open, and surround me as we walk to the entrance hall. There’s a prison van waiting outside, and they open the door and push me up the steps. Two of them step in behind me, dragging me onto a bench and sitting, one on each side, as the driver starts the engine.

  A flickering blue-white light stutters to life on the ceiling. Someone slams the door closed, and I hear the locks turning. There’s an icy feeling in my spine as the van starts to move.

  Bex hasn’t spoken up. My last chance to walk away vanished with the closing door.

  I’m on the wrong side. I’m in the wrong uniform, and the one person who could save me has broken her promise.

  I’m on the losing side.

  Everything you’ve done. Everything you’ve worked for. It wasn’t enough.

  The van jolts and shudders as the driver pulls out onto the main road. I’ve made this journey enough times to know where we are, but I have no idea where we’re going.

  I try to feel something, as we drive. I try to feel angry, or hurt. I try to feel fear.

  But I’m numb. I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting Bex to break her promise.

  I’ve been counting on Bex. Counting on her as my last chance. Counting on her honesty.

  And I was wrong.

  I should have run. I should have walked away. I should have used the trial as my cover, and walked into the crowd. I could have been one face in thousands, heading home by tube. Catching a bus across the country. I could have walked away with a hundred thousand people as my shields.

  I made the wrong choice, and I’m in handcuffs.

  Bad situations don’t have to end badly.

  Maybe you can still talk your way out.

  Discussion

  Bex

  They’ve taken Ketty. They’ve taken her away, after I promised to protect her. She kept her word. She brought me to Mum. She stood with me in the conference room.

  We both have blood on our hands.

  I need to keep my end of the deal.

  I take a step towards the guards, but Mum’s there, next to me. She puts her hand on my arm.

  “Leave it, Bex. It’s not your problem.” She looks up at me. “You know what she’s done. Let the soldiers deal with her. She’s not worth your time.”

  I look around the room. Dan and Margie. Charlie and Maz. Amy. Mum. We’re all here. We’re all safe.

  But Ketty’s gone. And I promised to help. I’m safe, and there is still something I can do.

  Charlie crosses the room as I step towards the guards. She stands in front of me, hands on my shoulders.

  “Bex. Stop. You don’t have to do this. I know what Ketty did to you. I know what she did to your mother.” She glances over my shoulder, to where Mum is waiting. “You’re getting involved again. Take a step back. This isn’t your fight.”

  I shake my head. “I promised.”

  Charlie hangs her head. “I know, Bex, but sometimes …”

  “I promised.”

  Charlie steps back, throwing her hands up. She looks over my shoulder again.

  “Mrs Ellman?”

  I look back. Mum shrugs. “I’ve done what I can, but I think my daughter is a better person than I am.”

  Charlie smiles, shaking her head.

  I catch Dan’s eye across the room and he whispers something to Margie, then walks over and puts a hand on my shoulder.

  “Which is it, Bex? Am I wrestling you into a chair, or picking up a gun and standing with you? What’s the crazy plan?”

  “I made a promise, Dan. I need to save Ketty.”

  The colour has gone from Dan’s face. He’s angry, and he’s hurt. His eyes search my face, and he’s trying to understand.

  “You have got to be joking, Bex.”

  I shake my head.

  “After what she’s done? After what she did to Margie? To Jake? To your mother?” He runs a hand through his hair. “After what she did to you, Bex?”

  “I know.” My voice is small and quiet after Dan’s shouting. “But she brought me back to Mum.” I glance round the room. “To all the prisoners. And I promised.”

  “She was desperate, Bex! She’s using you to get out of being punished! You were an easy target, and she pounced on you.” He raises his voice. “You don’t owe her anything!”

  “She deserves what’s coming, Bex. Let her go.” Charlie puts her hand on Dan’s arm.

  I look down at the floor. I can’t meet their eyes. My voice is a whisper.

  “We killed someone. Together.”

  “You and Ketty?” Dan and Charlie exchange a glance. “In the conference room?”

  I nod.

  “Bex, you ca
n’t …”

  “That doesn’t make you …”

  I look up at Charlie. “Yes, it does. We’re as bad as each other.” My voice is stronger now. “I’m safe. I’m on the winning side. But I’ve done something terrible.” Charlie shakes her head, watching me. “Why do I get to walk away?”

  Dan takes my hand and looks me in the eye.

  “Because you’re the good guy, Bex. You’ve done the right thing, over and over.” I shake my head and try to pull my hand away, but he tightens his grip. “The things you’ve done – they weren’t the easy things, or the things you were supposed to do – but they were the right things.”

  Charlie glances back at Mum, and then at me. “You haven’t tortured anyone, Bex. You haven’t locked anyone up. You haven’t hurt people for fun.”

  “No. But I killed someone. Someone important. And Ketty was standing beside me. We took the shot together.”

  Somehow that’s the death that hurts the most. I can still see the firing squad guards falling to the stage, their armour failing under my bullets. But that was self-defence. That was protecting my friends. In the conference room, I fired because I was angry.

  “That doesn’t make you the bad guy!” Dan is shouting again. “Everything you’ve done has been right and good. Dangerous, stupid, crazy – yes, but also brave and honest and caring.” He grips my shoulders and turns me to face him. “You’re not like her, Bex. You’re not like Ketty.”

  “Are you wrestling me into a chair, Dan?”

  He leans on my shoulders, bowing his head.

  “If you make me, I will.” He looks up, pointing with one hand at the people around me. “And your friends will help me.”

  Cell

  Ketty

  I’m behind bars. I’m locked up, and I’m alone.

  The prison van brought us to a police station, somewhere in London. I’m in a cell, and I’m waiting.

  I have no idea what they’re planning to do.

  The cell is tiny, with a flickering strip light and no window. There’s a sleeping platform, and a thin, plastic-covered mattress.

  I’m sitting on the mattress, my head in my hands.

  I can’t see any other cells through the bars on my cell door, but I can hear other prisoners arriving, and I can hear people being taken away. This is only a holding cell. They’re keeping us here until – what? I think it over. Are they sending us to prison? To instant trials?

  To firing squads?

  My hands are shaking. I’ve done everything I can, and it’s not enough.

  I pulled Bracken out of the conference room. I took Bex back to her mother. I let the Belmarsh prisoners walk out of their cells. I’m out of options.

  Everything we’ve done – Bracken and me, Conrad and Lee – it ends here. This is where my actions catch up with me. This is where I’m held accountable.

  This is where I fall.

  And this is fear.

  I’m expecting interrogation. I’m expecting to sit, chained to a table, while the cameras watch and someone asks me to justify what we’ve done.

  Could I make a deal? Could I give them Bracken? Or Conrad?

  And I think about the other interrogation room. The one without cameras. The two trained men in black jumpsuits. The Enhanced Interrogations that I’ve witnessed.

  That I’ve run.

  And Jake, at Camp Bishop, begging me to stop the pain. Bex, outside the fence, Jackson’s fists flying into her. Margaret Watson, looking through me as the blows landed.

  Am I brave, like Margaret? Or will I beg? Will I stand tall and let them hurt me? Or will I break?

  Will they enjoy it? Will they mock me as they serve out pain? Will they smile when they break my bones?

  I did. I smiled. I enjoyed it – watching people break. Hearing them beg and plead. I enjoyed the power, and I enjoyed their weakness.

  I run my hands over my face and hair, staring at the floor between my feet.

  How will I stand, between the men in black? Tall and unbroken? Or cowed and fearful? Pitiful. Falling to the worst place in the world.

  I shake my head. There’s nothing I can do. I’ll find out who I am when they take me away.

  I’ll find out what I’ve become.

  Bully

  Bex

  The King arrives, and thanks us, and shakes our hands. He talks to Mum, and the other prisoners. He congratulates us for saving our friends. He talks to Margie for a long time. Dan stands next to me as the King puts his hand on my shoulder and thanks me for my speech, and I know he’s ready to stop me if I ask about Ketty.

  The King moves on, talking to everyone in turn. The atmosphere in the room is awkward, but excited. Everyone is on their best behaviour, but we’re all looking at each other, trying to believe that this is real.

  And all I can think about is the promise I’ve broken.

  Margie puts a hand on my arm. I give her a smile, and another hug. I still can’t believe she’s OK.

  “You don’t have to help her, Bex.” I look at her in surprise. “Dan told me what happened.”

  “But …”

  “She used you. She saw that she was on the losing side, and she saw that you could help.”

  I shake my head. “That’s no excuse. I promised.”

  She puts a hand on my elbow, and leads me to the chairs at the edge of the room. She sits down, and I sit next to her.

  She takes a deep breath, her eyes closed.

  “Shall I tell you who Ketty is?” She looks at me again, and her hands are shaking.

  “I’m sorry, Margie. I didn’t mean …”

  “Just listen, Bex.”

  I nod, and wait for her to talk. She clasps her hands together in front of her, and she’s shivering as she starts to speak.

  “She’s a bully, Bex. She’s cruel, and she’s violent, and she’s only looking out for herself.” Her voice shakes, and I reach out to hold her hand, but she shrugs me away.

  “In that room, just there,” she points to a door, behind us. “In that room, she tried to make me talk. She tried to make me tell her things – about you. About Dan.”

  I nod. “I’ve been in the interrogation room.”

  She shakes her head. “That room is different. There are no cameras. They can do what they want to us, in there.”

  I rest my hand on the arm of her chair, waiting. She closes her eyes, and waits for a moment. When she speaks again, it’s in a whisper.

  “They have men. Men in black uniforms. They’re trained to hurt the prisoners.”

  I shake my head, and I can feel tears in my eyes.

  “Margie. I’m so sorry.”

  “And Ketty? She was in there with them. Telling them what to do. Telling them when to punch me, and kick me, and hold me down.” Her voice trails off, and she covers her face with her hands.

  “The bruises?”

  She nods. I can feel tears, spilling onto my face.

  “And she told them what to do?”

  She drops her hands from her face, looking at the ceiling. She blinks back her own tears, and looks at me again.

  “Worse than that. When I wouldn’t talk …” She shakes her head. “When I wouldn’t talk, she used her own fists.”

  She looks up, and I realise that Dan is standing next to me, watching her. He kneels down, and takes her hand in his, lifting the other to her face and pushing a stray wisp of hair back behind her ear. He doesn’t speak, but they stay like that for a long moment, his hand on her shoulder.

  I feel sick. I know this. I know about Ketty. I know what she’s done to Mum, and to Jake. I know what she did to me, with Jackson.

  And I know she’s used me.

  Dan turns to me, and there’s a look in his eyes that I’ve never seen before.

  “Do you get it now, Bex?” He sounds choked. He sounds as if he’s holding back tears.

  I nod, slowly.

  I want to do the honourable thing. I want to do the right thing. I want to keep my side of the bargain that brought me ba
ck to Mum.

  But I can’t let Ketty go free. I can’t let her walk away from this.

  “Do I have to wrestle you into a chair, Bex?” He asks, in the same tone of voice, and I realise he’s not joking. “Because I will, if I have to.”

  I need to remember whose side I’m on. Who has my back. Who stood with me, through everything.

  This is a promise I have to break. This is the right thing to do.

  I look at Margie, remembering the bruises on her face. Her expression, as she faced the firing squad.

  I try to answer, but my voice has gone. I shake my head, and he nods, turning back to Margie.

  The coalition can have Ketty. Let them decide how this ends.

  I’m done helping her.

  Conrad

  Ketty

  There are voices in the corridor. Someone arriving. And someone leaving.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  It’s Conrad. He’s shouting, but there’s an edge of fear to his words.

  “Take your hands off me.”

  I’m on my feet and at the door before I can think.

  “David!”

  The corridor is quiet for a moment. There’s a scuffling sound as someone is dragged from their cell, and then the soldiers are marching past, Conrad between them, his hands in handcuffs.

  “Conrad!”

  He looks at me as he passes my cell.

  “Ketty.” He sounds disappointed. “You’re here.”

  “Where are they taking you?”

  He laughs, shaking his head.

  “Where’s Bracken, David? Is he here?”

  Conrad stops, and his guards start to drag him forwards. He looks back at me.

  “Haven’t you heard? Bracken shot himself. Made a mess of some clerk’s office, back at Horse Guard’s. Bracken’s gone.”