The Traitors

by Tom Becker

  “Be careful what you wish for,” Nino added gloomily.

  Luca stared at the Commandant’s Tower, which was blazing like a beacon. “I never wanted Adam to get caught up in this. Do you really think he was on the Quisling?”

  Doughnut shrugged. “Hope not,” he said. “For his sake.”

  The boys lapsed into an uneasy silence, listening to the soundtrack of crackling flames wafting across the prison.

  “Come on,” Doughnut said eventually. “We’re not doing any good feeling sorry for ourselves. Let’s go look round the Dial, see if we can find Adam.”

  Luca was about to reply when he felt the bench shiver beneath him.

  “Did you feel that?” he asked.

  Nino frowned. “Feel what?”

  The bench shivered again, more insistently this time, and a deep rumble emanated from the belly of the Dial.

  Doughnut scrambled to his feet. “What the—?”

  The rest of the inmates and the guards were backing away from the centre of the yard, which was now churning and rolling like a storm-tossed ocean. Suddenly a giant stone outcrop erupted from the ground in a shower of gravel, shooting up into the sky, knocking everyone in the yard off their feet. It was a hollow, drain-like cylinder formed entirely from rock, which thundered upwards over the prison at a sharp angle, rising over the chasm and the Docking Port and continuing onwards all the way up to the warphole. By the time it had come to a shuddering rest, it had formed a slanting covered passageway that led from the yard to the heart of the vortex.

  Doughnut’s jaw dropped open. “What is that?”

  “A sky tunnel!” Luca yelled, grabbing the fixer’s arm. “It’s my sky tunnel!”

  The inmates crowded around the mouth of the tunnel, their faces bathed in wonder as they peered inside. The passageway was smooth, the incline gentle enough to be climbed without steps.

  “Incredible,” Luca whispered, reaching up to touch the rocky surface. “He’s given us a way home.”

  Nino scratched his head. “Who has?”

  “The Commandant, dozy!” laughed Luca. “You think anyone else could do this?”

  As the unexpected possibility of leaving the Dial sank in, the prisoners turned and eyed the guards uneasily. It was all very well a tunnel appearing in front of their eyes, but would they be allowed to use it? When a bold inmate placed a foot inside the tunnel, one of the guards hesitantly raised his rifle in warning. The tension in the yard rose, fingers tightening upon triggers.

  Then a loud clap of the hands interrupted the stand-off, and Mr Cooper stepped forward.

  “What are you waiting for?” he boomed. “Everyone line up in ranks of four! No pushing! Children before adults!”

  Doughnut blinked. “You’re going to let us out?”

  “Of course I’m letting you out!” Mr Cooper replied. “You were brought here to be a taught a lesson – not killed, or trapped for ever.”

  The fixer nodded towards the tunnel. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

  “Only one way to find out.” It was Major X who replied, pushing forward to the front of the throng. “If anyone knows about tunnels, it’s me. Tally-Ho?”

  His men snapped to attention behind him, saluting sharply.

  “Give us two minutes to see if we can get to the top safely and then follow us up,” the Major said to Mr Cooper, straightening his cap. “See you on the other side.”

  Taking a firm step forward, the leader of the Tally-Ho led his men up the tunnel towards the warphole, the tread of their marching feet falling smartly in time with the rhythm of his echoing cries of “Left, right, left, right!”, until the Major’s voice faded and then disappeared completely.

  Back in the yard, Mouthwash gave Doughnut a bewildered look. “Am I dreaming? Are we getting out?”

  “Looks that way,” said Doughnut. “But I won’t believe it till we’re back on Earth.”

  With the Tally-Ho seemingly safely through the warp-hole, the guards helped organize the remaining children into ranks, all the while keeping watch on the beam of light still defiantly emitting from the fiery summit of the Commandant’s Tower. At a signal from Mr Cooper, the Dial’s inhabitants began their ascent to freedom, old feuds forgotten and past tensions ignored. Bookworm walked beside Caiman, Scarecrow beside Mouthwash, Paintpot beside Jonkers; and then came the guards, Mr Harker and Miss Roderick dragging Matron’s prone form behind them, a smiling Nurse Waters accompanied by Mr Cooper. The prison was rapidly drained of its occupants, until there were only three people left standing in the exercise yard, a pair of brothers and a fixer, all aware that two other prisoners had yet to appear.

  “How long do you think we’ve got until the warphole closes?” asked Luca D’Annunzio.

  “No idea,” Doughnut replied. “Not long, I guess.”

  “Maybe we should head up the tunnel, then,” said Nino D’Annunzio.

  “Maybe,” said Doughnut, scanning the prison for movement.

  “You really think there’s a chance Adam’s alive?” asked Luca.

  “I do,” Doughnut murmured. “And I’m not leaving until he does.”

  Adam stumbled down the stairs of the Commandant’s Tower, choking in the smoke, his eye stinging with tears. Behind him the fire roared joyfully as it consumed the upper reaches of the building, tongues of flame licking the lip of the top stair in anticipation of a larger feast. Adam burst outside, coughs racking his lungs, to be confronted by the sight of the stone tunnel bursting out from the heart of the exercise yard, leading straight into the maw of the warphole. A disbelieving smile crossed Adam’s face. The Commandant had been true to his word.

  Thankfully, the fire hadn’t spread far enough to affect the walkway – Adam called it over to Wing XI and scrambled on to the broad path. At once he saw a girl ahead of him, sitting in a disconsolate heap on the circular island in the centre of the chasm. Jessica blanched at the sight of Adam, looking down at her hands as he approached.

  “I know all about you,” Adam said coldly. “I know you’re the Traitor.”

  Jessica nodded. “I thought you might.”

  “That’s it? No excuses? No lies? Not even a sorry?”

  “Sorry?” She laughed bitterly. “I spend every waking moment wishing that I could turn back the clock, go back to Earth and put everything right. I’m not evil, Adam. I made a mistake! But they locked me up in this place . . . this hideous prison . . . and I felt like I was losing my mind. I had to get out, no matter what it took. It doesn’t mean that I was proud of what I did. If I ever did return to Earth, I’d never betray anyone again. So yes, of course I’m sorry. But what does it matter? Does ‘sorry’ make up for what I did?”

  “It’s a start,” Adam replied sharply. “I made a pretty big fool of myself, didn’t I? Chasing around after you, telling you I liked you, kissing you. And all the time you were just trying to get information from me so you could sell us all out. You must have thought it was so funny.”

  Jessica shook her head. “I know you won’t believe me,” she said sadly, “but it was different with you. From the moment you landed here I tried to keep you away from me, but you wouldn’t listen.”

  “I was in the infirmary when Luca got caught,” Adam said. “You lied to Mr Pitt. You said Luca was on his own in the girls’ dormitory. You didn’t tell him about me.”

  “I didn’t want him to hurt you again.”

  Adam folded his arms. “But you were happy for him to hurt Luca, and to try to wipe his mind.”

  “I didn’t know Mr Pitt was going to take him to the Re-education Wing! I thought he’d just put him in solitary!” Jessica turned her back to him. “Oh, what’s the use?” she sighed. “I know what I did. It doesn’t matter what I say now.”

  There was a crash as a piece of burning masonry fell from the roof of the Commandant’s Tower. The warphole beam wavered uncertainly, i
ts brilliance diminishing as the power began to fail.

  “We can talk about this back on Earth,” said Adam. “The warphole won’t stay open for ever.”

  “Good,” Jessica replied defiantly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “What? You have to!”

  She shook her head again. “After everything that’s happened? After everything I’ve done? I’m a traitor, Adam. This is where I belong.”

  “On your own? For ever?”

  “If need be. Please, Adam,” Jessica whispered. “If you care about me, please let me stay here.”

  She reached up and kissed him softly on the lips, then pushed herself away and ran back towards the Commandant’s Tower. Before Adam could chase after her, he heard a voice crying his name.

  “You’re alive!” Doughnut shouted, his face pressed up against the exercise yard gate. “I knew it! Get over here!”

  Adam took a final agonized look at the fleeing figure of Jessica. He didn’t want to leave her here, but what could he do? She wanted to stay here. Was he supposed to risk every-thing for a double-crossing traitor? His heart hardening, Adam sprinted in the other direction.

  As he stepped down into the exercise yard, he was enveloped in a fierce bear hug by Doughnut, while Luca and Nino D’Annunzio looked on with undisguised happiness.

  “I thought you were never going to show up!” Doughnut exclaimed. “Everyone else has gone – Mouthwash, Paintpot, Mr Cooper, Major X, the whole lot! We’re the only ones left.”

  Not quite the only ones, Adam thought to himself, as they jogged across the gravel towards the sky tunnel. There was still someone else on the Dial. As he entered the mouth of the tunnel, he thought about his family and friends back home, and the joy of seeing them again, and how he would try and make it up to Danny; and then he thought about Jessica, destined to haunt the prison for eternity. Adam looked to his left, at Doughnut beaming with joy as he tackled the incline, and to his right, where Nino and Luca were staring dazed at the shimmering warphole at the top end of the tunnel. He remembered the Commandant’s last words – Don’t leave anyone behind. . .

  Adam stopped in his tracks.

  Luca gave him a sideways look. “Everything all right?”

  “Fine,” Adam replied. “Only I’ve got to go back.”

  “You’ve got to what?” yelled Doughnut. “Are you crazy?”

  “Maybe. I’m still going, though.”

  Doughnut stared at him in amazement. “Why?”

  “It’s Jessica,” said Adam. “I can’t leave her alone here.”

  “But she’s a traitor!”

  Adam shrugged. “Isn’t everyone?”

  “Are you sure about this?” asked Nino. “There’s no going back on this, you know. You could be stuck here for ever.”

  “I know,” Adam said simply. “But I have to.”

  Doughnut reached out to grab him, but Luca caught the fixer’s hand.

  “Come on,” he said softly to Doughnut. “We’d better go.” Luca smiled at Adam. “Always knew you were trouble.”

  “I learned from the best,” Adam replied. “Look after yourselves – all of you.”

  As Adam turned around and hastened back down the slope towards the ground, the D’Annunzio brothers stepped either side of Doughnut and guided the flabbergasted fixer away up the tunnel. Glancing back over his shoulder, Adam saw the three distant figures pause by the warphole entrance, turning to wave farewell before stepping into the vortex, and back to freedom.

  Adam’s feet had barely touched the ground when the fire on the Commandant’s Tower reached Luca’s balloon – and the sack of Volcano Chilli stashed in its crate. There was an apocalyptic bang as the tower exploded, and the warphole beam abruptly disappeared. Deprived of its life source, the warphole writhed in agony, churning and twisting before folding in on itself as it closed for the final time. Adam sprinted across the yard and dived on to the ground, throwing his hands over his head as the sky tunnel began to shake above him, before suddenly disintegrating into a shower of dust and tiny pebbles that rained silently down like a soft grey curtain.

  Adam lay still for several minutes, convinced at any moment a giant slab of masonry was going to drop down upon him and crush him. Finally he sat up, brushing the debris from his hair. The night sky was smooth once more – the turmoil of the warphole already a distant memory. Fire continued to rage around the Commandant’s quarters: in the top tower window, he thought he could make out a blurred movement – someone else saying goodbye? Perhaps Adam should have been overwhelmed by the enormousness of his decision, but he felt strangely calm. For the first time in his life, he was absolutely certain that he was doing the right thing. The thought comforted him as he headed back towards the exercise yard gate, his feet crunching on the gravel.

  It appeared that the walkway had shifted position whilst he had been inside the sky tunnel. Adam called one hand around to him, taking comfort from the deep rumble as it slotted into place. He hopped up on to the path and crossed the chasm, whose inky depths no longer seemed quite so threatening. The second hand of the walkway would lead him to Jessica, Adam knew. But he didn’t need its help – there was only one place she was ever going to be.

  Even with parts of the Dial crumbling and aflame, the theatre still retained a hushed grandeur. Jessica was sitting at the grand piano, her head bowed, her hands clasped in her lap. At the sound of Adam’s emergence from the staircase, her eyes widened.

  “What are you still doing here?” she gasped. “You have to go!”

  “Easier said than done,” Adam replied, crossing the hall. “The warphole’s shut.”

  Jessica’s hand flew to her mouth. “Why didn’t you go through it?”

  “I nearly did,” said Adam, sliding beside her on to the piano stool. “But then I thought about Luca. I think he was right about one thing – we’re all traitors, one way or another. I know you’ve done some bad things, but it shouldn’t mean you have to spend for ever on your own here.”

  “But what about your home? Your family, friends?”

  Adam shrugged. “As far as they know, I haven’t been gone a second. If I return today, or in a thousand years, it isn’t going to make any difference to them.”

  “But the warphole machine is broken!” Jessica protested. “Don’t you see – we can never go back!”

  “You never know – I might be able to fix the machine. Maybe the Commandant survived the explosion, and he can get us out. Maybe this is all just a bad dream.”

  “You’re crazy,” Jessica said softly. “I can’t believe you’ve done this.”

  Adam squeezed her arm and smiled. “Hey – what are friends for?”

  There came a thunderous explosion from outside, as the Commandant’s Tower gave up its futile fight for life and came toppling down to the ground. Jessica shivered.

  “So what do we do now?” she said.

  Adam looked thoughtfully around the theatre.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Anything we want, I guess. Go look around the guards’ quarters. Have a food fight in the mess hall. Play a rumble of Bucketball.” He lightly pressed a key on the piano. “You could teach me how to play.”

  “You want to learn the piano?” Jessica gave him a dubious look. “I’m not sure you’re the musical type. It could take a while, you know.”

  The hall resonated with the sound of Adam’s laughter.

  “How long have you got?” he asked.

  Dawn broke out over the Dial like birdsong. In the empty corridors and dormitories of the prison, centuries-old echoes had finally been set free: the countless protests of innocence, destined to fall on deaf ears; the clinking of coffee mugs and the slap of spit-palmed handshakes, as new escape plans were agreed upon; the whispers of remorse in the chapel pews, acknowledging old wrongs. No sirens would ring out again; no sputtering radio announcements
would intrude upon the quiet. Smoke was still curling into the air from the smouldering remains of the Commandant’s Tower, leaving a dark trail across the bright blue sky. Amid the wheezing husk of the Quisling, something glinted in the balmy sunlight. It was a sovereign ring, its golden surface scratched and tarnished.

  On the other side of the prison, two figures could be seen sitting on the perimeter wall, their feet dangling over the edge. Their hands were locked tightly together. As the last of the flames crackled out, a soft giggle could be heard as the two traitors inched closer to each other, settling down to share an eternity of forgiveness.

  Although The Traitors is a work of fantasy, it owes an enormous debt of inspiration to these real-life prisoner-of-war stories from the Second World War: Boldness Be My Friend, by Richard Pape; Colditz, by Pat Reid; Dare To Be Free, by W.B. Thomas; Wingless Victory, by Anthony Richardson; Farewell Campo 12, by James Hargest; Reach For The Sky, by Paul Brickhill; The Wooden Horse, by Eric Williams; and Colditz: The German Story, by Reinhold Eggers. I heartily recommend these fantastic reads to anyone searching for further heroic escapes and general derring-do.

  Getting a book published is always a team effort, and I’d like to thank everyone at Scholastic, my agent Sam Copeland, and Matt Drew, who helped bring the Dial to life in the early days of its construction. Finally, my love and heartfelt gratitude to Lindsay, for painting my world anew in such glorious colour.

  Scholastic Children’s Books

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  First published in the UK by Scholastic Ltd., 2012

  This electronic edition published by Scholastic Ltd., 2012