by C. L. Taylor
She glares at Meg, her eyes flashing with anger. ‘Give me one reason why I shouldn’t throw you straight into isolation.’
‘I … I …’ Megan stutters. ‘I only wanted to hug you. I thought … I thought you needed one.’
Jake, beside me, snorts in amusement then gasps as I elbow him in the ribs.
‘Mrs H. did say that the friends are here to support and help us …’ I tail off as Destiny gives me the evils.
The entire table is silent. Everyone’s watching us, waiting to see what Destiny will do next.
‘Dest …’ Abi appears beside Destiny and puts a hand on her shoulder. ‘Is everything OK here?’
Destiny blows out her cheeks and reaches for one of her stray dreadlocks. She winds it round her bun and tucks it in, looking seriously pissed off.
‘Fine thanks, Abi,’ she says tightly then looks back at Mouse. ‘Megan, consider this a verbal warning. If I have to talk to you again, I’ll send you to isolation. Do we understand each other?’
Megan nods, her expression pure (faked) contrition.
‘For a girl who doesn’t talk much you’ve been awfully expressive this lunchtime, Megan Jones. I might have to have a little word with your therapist later. It seems you’re making more progress than we thought.’
Megan’s hands clench in her lap. Neither of us say a word as Abi walks back to the far end of the table and Destiny leads Mason, with his mop and bucket in his hands, back to the tray stand. As he puts the bucket on the floor he slips a hand into his pocket.
‘Thank you,’ I breathe. ‘If you hadn’t launched yourself at my brother like that Destiny would have seen him take the map.’
Mouse turns her clenched fists over and opens her fingers. There’s a flash of white then she closes her fingers again. ‘You can thank me when you get me out of here, Drew.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
I could barely eat during dinner I was so excited. We’d done it. We’d managed to get the map to Mason and Mouse had stolen Destiny’s lanyard and staff pass. We decided to sit apart because we didn’t want to attract any more attention. My stomach still clenched with fear whenever one of the friends walked past Mouse. Destiny wasn’t on duty during dinner but she had to have realized that her lanyard had gone the moment she’d tried to get out of the rec room. There was no sign of her when we were ushered out of the rec room and into the canteen. Maybe she was looking for it.
I kept one eye on the canteen door all the way through dinner, half hopeful I’d see Mason again, half terrified Mrs H. would storm in, demanding we all turn out our pockets. Neither happened and, by the time we filed out of the canteen after stacking our trays, I felt sick with stress. How the hell were we going to get out of the rec room and down the stairs without being seen?
I spotted Mrs H. the second I walked into the rec room. She was standing next to the therapy session board, watching as everyone filed in.
‘She knows,’ I hissed to Mouse out of the side of my mouth as we passed her. ‘Did you see the look she just gave you?’
‘She doesn’t know anything. Even if Destiny has reported a lost pass they don’t know that one of us has taken it.’
‘What if they change the door codes?’
‘For one missing card?’ She shook her head. ‘Won’t happen. They’d have to reprogram every door in the building and reissue cards to all the staff.’
I wanted to believe her but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Getting hold of Destiny’s card had been easy. Almost too easy.
As it was there was no way we could slip out through the doors to the stairs during rec without being seen. The friends seemed to be everywhere and Mrs H. began doing laps of the room. We’d have to go to plan B – try to slip out during quiet time in the dorms.
*
‘Have you got it?’ I ask Mouse now.
‘Yep.’ She taps her right boob. ‘In my bra.’ Her cheeks are flushed and her amber eyes are shining. She couldn’t look more different from the pasty-faced girl who stared listlessly at the wall when I arrived a few days ago.
It’s 9.09 p.m. We were sent to the dorm for quiet time nine minutes ago but the first floor of Norton House is still ridiculously noisy. There are boys on the girls’ floor, girls on the boys’ floor; kids popping in and out of each other’s rooms constantly, laughing, chatting and listening to music. Destiny reappeared two minutes ago, with a lanyard hanging around her neck. I had to force myself to smile at her when she clocked me walking up the stairs behind Mouse. Jude, who’d kept her beady eye on us in the rec room, followed us into the dorm. She tried to chat to us as we lay on our bunks but soon got bored and wandered off when she failed to engage us in conversation.
‘How long do you reckon we’ve got?’ I ask Mouse, as we stand at the glass partition and stare down onto the boys’ floor where students and friends are still meandering about. ‘Before they realize we’re missing?’
She glances at my watch. ‘If we go now, hopefully about fifty-one minutes.’
The friends come round to check the dorms to make sure everyone is in the correct bed at 10 p.m. Once the check is complete a buzzer sounds, the doors lock and all the lights go out.
‘Do you think we should put pillows under our duvets,’ Mouse adds, ‘to make it look as though we’re in bed? To buy us some extra time?’
‘Too risky. If Jude comes back early and pulls back the duvets, she’ll tell someone. If we go soon, we’ve got more than enough time to get down the stairs into the basement, meet Mason and get through the tunnels.’
I sound more optimistic than I feel. There are so many things that could go wrong. The door codes could be changed, Mason might not be able to get down to the basement, and we might get lost in the steam tunnels. That’s if they haven’t been blocked up. But we have to try. Destiny said Mason was working in the canteen as a punishment. If he’s been causing trouble, there’s every chance they could fast-track him to the treatment unit.
‘Ready?’ I glance at Mouse.
‘Ready,’ she says.
*
I try to look nonchalant as I stroll along the balcony and head for the stairs. I don’t look back to check whether Megan is following me. The plan is to walk separately down to the boys’ floor and mill about until we have the opportunity to meet at the door to the stairwell, check no one’s watching, use the card, and get out. It’s not much of a plan admittedly and there’s every chance that the CCTV operator will see us and sound the alarm, but it’s all we’ve got. We considered setting off the fire alarm but neither of us know what happens if that goes off. For all we know any non-emergency exit doors could automatically lock.
The handrail feels slippery under my damp palm as I take the stairs one by one. Abi is sitting on a bunk in the dorm next to us, chatting to Polly. Stuart is standing in the doorway to one of the boys’ rooms. There are only two friends on duty tonight and they’re both distracted. For now anyway.
‘Oi oi!’ shouts a familiar voice.
Israel is standing outside one of the boys’ dorms, his back resting against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest. I hurry down the rest of the stairs.
‘Oh my God, you’re back. Are you OK? Where’ve you been?’
‘Isolation.’ He smiles, then looks sharply to his left and frowns. ‘Did you see that?’
I follow his gaze. He’s watching the three boys who are playing cards on the floor. ‘See what?’
‘The snake.’
‘A snake? Where?!’
‘On the ground.’ He points at the three boys, his index finger quivering in the air. ‘Over there.’
I can’t see anything. And the three boys don’t seem the slightest bit worried.
‘Rummy!’ one of them shouts, slapping the ground with a card.
‘Are you OK?’ I look back at Israel. He’s stopped staring at the boys and is now gawping at the ground between our feet.
‘Man, they’re cool,’ he breathes.
�
�What are?’ Out of the corner of my eye I spot Mouse pacing back and forth by the door. She looks like a tiger in a zoo, patrolling its cage.
‘The little cars,’ Israel says. ‘Who brought the little cars in?’
‘What cars?’ I ask, distracted by Mouse making circling motions with her right hand. She wants me to hurry up.
‘How do they keep going for so long?’ Israel asks, crouching down. ‘Are they remote-controlled?’
He swipes at the ground near my feet, forcing me to jump out of the way. What’s he talking about? There aren’t any cars on the floor. Just like there was no snake near the card-playing boys. Is he trying to be funny? If so, it’s not working.
‘I’ll … um …’ I back away. ‘I’ll talk to you soon, OK?’
Israel continues to paw the ground, chattering to himself as I walk past the card-playing boys.
‘Mouse,’ I hiss as I draw closer to her. ‘What’s going on?’
She makes a sharp nodding motion with her head, up towards the balcony. ‘Look. Not straight away. Subtly. Don’t talk to me. We’re being watched.’
I double back and hover beside the card players. ‘Can I have a go?’
All the boys stop playing and stare up at me.
‘Do you know how to play rummy?’ one of them asks.
‘Yeah, my dad taught me.’
He looks at the other boys. They shrug their shoulders then shuffle up to make a space for me on the floor. As I sit down, I glance up, towards the balcony. Jude is sitting on the top step and she’s staring straight at me. She probably saw my conversation with Israel and has convinced herself that I’m making another play for him now he’s back. Arrrgh! Why can’t she just sod off and mind her own business?
I glance at my watch – 9.16 p.m. With Stuart and Abi still occupied now’s the perfect time to sneak out of the door – I doubt the card-playing boys would even notice – but not if Jude’s watching. One of us could go up the stairs and distract her but then only one could escape and I promised Mouse I’d get her out. There’s no point sending her on her own because she hasn’t seen the map. She’d never be able to navigate the tunnels to find Mason.
‘Here you go,’ one of the boys hands me some cards. ‘So what you do is …’
As he mansplains a game I’ve played hundreds of times I look over at Mouse and shake my head. We’re going to have to abandon the plan. With any luck, Mason will realize pretty quickly that we’re not coming and find his own way out of the tunnels.
‘Snake!’ Israel screams in my ear. A split second later, I’m yanked back by my hood and dragged across the floor.
‘Israel!’ I lash out at him, but he’s already let go of me and is running back to the card circle. He grabs the boy I was sitting next to by the collar and hauls him away from the group.
‘You need to run!’ he shouts. ‘There are snakes everywhere. Get out, man! Get out!’
‘Hey!’ The second boy he tries to rescue from the imaginary snakes resists and a scuffle breaks out. Fists fly and suddenly everyone is on their feet. Kids fly out of their dorms, startled by the noise. Jude, at the top of the stairs, disappears in a crush of girls hurrying past her. I’m surrounded on all sides by kids baying for a fight.
‘Drew!’ Mouse grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet. ‘What’s going on?’
‘It’s Israel. He’s hallucinating. I need to break up the fight and explain why he’s being so weird.’
‘No!’ She yanks on my arm, pulling me back as I try to break through the crowd to get to Israel. ‘We can get help when we’ve escaped. Nothing you do here is going to make any difference.’
‘But they’re going to beat him. And he hasn’t done anything wrong.’
‘Stuart’s going to stop it. Look!’
There’s a flash of blue jumper as Stuart piles into the mix.
‘Please, Drew,’ Mouse shouts in my ear. ‘Please, we need to go.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
‘Quick! Quick!’ Mouse holds the card to the black box beside the glass door and I say a quick prayer as the red lights flash, once, twice, three times. I give the door the smallest of shoves, fully expecting it to be shut firm but it gives beneath my fingers and opens.
‘Go, go!’ I bundle Mouse through the door first. I’m too terrified to look back to see if anyone has spotted us so I shove myself up against her, half expecting to feel a hand on the back of my neck as we slip through the gap.
‘Shut it!’ We slam our body weight against the door, share a split second look – jubilation mixed with fear – and then head for the stairs. My legs feel like jelly as I leap down them, taking them two at a time. I slip as I round the corner of the staircase and only stop myself from falling by hanging onto the handrail. Mouse is close behind me as I take the second set of steps. She’s puffing and panting like a steam train but she’s keeping up.
‘Card!’ I say, barely able to speak as we reach the door that leads to the basement. Mouse uncurls her fingers but her hand is empty. Where’s the card? I wait, tapping my foot impatiently, as she roots around in her bra. She looks at me with huge, scared eyes and shakes her head. It’s gone. Please God don’t let her have dropped it inside the dorm as I shoved her through the door.
I gesture for her to stay where she is then head back up the stairs, scanning the ground for the small, white staff pass. As I reach the second corner I see it, lying on the pale grey tiles. I snatch it up and glance at my watch: 9.21 p.m. We’ve only got thirty-nine minutes until bed check. Loud, excited voices drift down the stairs from the dorms above. The friends obviously haven’t got the situation with Israel under control yet but we’re running out of time. If they decide to bring bed check forward we’re screwed.
I sprint back down the stairs to Mouse and press the card to the black box next to the basement door. The red lights flash, there’s the tiniest of clicks and the door swings open revealing narrow wooden stairs, lit by the dull glow of a circular emergency lamp fixed to the wall. A cold, musty smell hits me as I step through the door and the wall feels damp under my fingertips. I can hear Mouse’s raggedy breathing and heavy footsteps behind me as she follows me down, down, down into the bowels of Norton House.
The light fades as we reach the bottom but I can make out four or five cardboard boxes, stuffed with battered cricket bats, broken tennis rackets and volleyball nets, stacked up against one wall. Beside them are three bikes with flat tyres and loose chains, a pile of rusty cooking pots and a tray of assorted cutlery. The walls are brick, the floor is cobbled and, at the far end of the room, an archway opens onto darkness. It has to be one of the abandoned steam tunnels that run through to the centre of the house.
‘Megan?’ I turn to look at my room-mate. ‘Are you OK?’
Meg’s hand is pressed against her chest and she’s breathing in short, sharp gasps, punctuated by a high wheezing sound.
‘Asthma attack,’ she pants.
‘Have you got your inhaler?’
She pats the pockets of her black cardigan and shakes her head, her eyes wide and panicky. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to leave her behind but she can’t run if she can’t breathe.
‘Do you want to go back?’ I ask.
She shakes her head, but the panic in her eyes has morphed into fear. I could try to get back into the dorm to get her inhaler but, even if I could get back out again, there’s not enough time.
‘Let me … um …’ I am frozen by indecision. Mason might be standing in the central tunnel at this very moment waiting for us. I can’t just leave him there, not knowing what’s going on, but I don’t want to leave Mouse either.
‘I’ll go back upstairs,’ Mouse says, struggling for breath between words. ‘Go and meet your brother. Send help when you get out.’
‘Are you sure?’
She nods her head.
I hand her the card. ‘Can you get back upstairs OK?’
‘I’ll go slowly,’ she says breathlessly.
‘If you’re sure.’
I hug her tightly then turn sharply. I can’t bear the disappointment in her eyes.
‘I’ll get you out of here as soon as I can, Mouse,’ I call as I start to run. ‘I promise.’
*
Within seconds of entering the tunnel, it is pitch black. I can’t see my hands as I reach one in front of me and trail the other along the cold, damp wall. The cobbles under my feet are uneven and I have to slow my run to a jog so I don’t slip. Water drips from the roof and plops onto my head, my arm, my cheek then my outstretched hand smacks against a brick wall and I stop abruptly. Which way now? Mason’s got the map so I have to rely on my memory. Left. I need to go left, then first right. I turn left then take a right as the wall vanishes and my hand waves in the air. I take one step forward, then another and another and then CLANG! My hand hits something hard and metallic. I touch it with both hands, tentatively exploring it with my fingertips. It’s some kind of metal grate or door and it’s blocking the route out of the tunnel. I weave my fingers into the holes and push. It doesn’t move. I yank it towards me. Nothing. My chest tightens and a wave of panic crashes over me. Think, Drew, think. Which way do the other tunnels lead? If I go back the way I came then go straight ahead is there another tunnel that goes right? I try to conjure up the map in my mind and draw a blank. I take a deep breath and blow out slowly and steadily. I need to calm down. I haven’t forgotten the map. It’s still there, it’s still in my head. I just need a second to pull myself together and then –
I’ve got it! I turn sharply and head back down the tunnel then take a right, a left and another right. It’s so dark now I feel like I’m blind. Dark thoughts flash through my mind. What if I’ve gone the wrong way or there’s a hole in the floor and I fall through it? Or something crashes on top of me? Mouse won’t tell anyone I’m down here. If I don’t come back, she’ll assume I’ve escaped. If something happens to me no one will come and rescue me. I could die down here and no one would ever know.
