The Great Escape
Page 1
PRAISE FOR
‘I really enjoyed this book. It was intense and I couldn’t wait to see what happened next. Five stars!’
Poldy, age 11
‘Wolf Girl kept me on the edge of my seat the whole time . . . I never knew what was going to happen next.’
Piper, age 13
‘Wolf Girl is an exciting and adventurous book. I loved how brave Gwen is, and with the help of her pack she is strong enough to survive anything!’
Cate, age 12
‘I loved it because it was full of adventure. The best thing was the ending, which was so exciting. I can’t wait until the next book.’
Olivia, age 9
‘Each page was more exciting than the last!’
Leo, age 12
First published by Allen & Unwin in 2019
Text copyright © Anh Do, 2019
Illustrations by Jeremy Ley, 2019
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or ten per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.
Allen & Unwin
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Crows Nest NSW 2065
Australia
Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100
Email: info@allenandunwin.com
Web: www.allenandunwin.com
ISBN 978 1 76087 635 7
eISBN 978 1 76087 301 1
Cover design by Jo Hunt and Jeremy Ley
Text design by Jo Hunt
Set by Jo Hunt
1 Taken
2 The Yard
3 Locked Up
4 Checkup
5 Other Kids
6 Crossroads
7 Kindness
8 Another Way In
9 A Howl in the Night
10 Click
11 Clever Boy
12 Smash!
13 The Gate
14 The Hunters
15 The Adults
16 Onwards
I held onto the bars at the back of the truck and howled to my dogs as they fell further and further behind.
Sunrise, Brutus, Zip, Nosey and Tiny all ran as hard as they could, but there was no way they could keep up.
My pack was all I had left in the world. It had been four years since the night my family fled our home. Four years since I had run into the forest and lost them. If not for my animals, I don’t know if I would have survived.
And now I was going to lose them too.
I howled again, as loudly as I could.
‘Quiet, you!’ snapped Moustache Man.
When I’d burst out of the forest that morning, and seen the two men working, I was overjoyed. I’d been desperate to find people again, so I wasn’t as wary as I should have been. My pack had taught me to tread carefully, to read other creatures and anticipate their next move, but I’d let my excitement take over. For one stupid moment, I’d acted . . . human.
The men had pushed me into their truck and taken off, leaving my dogs behind.
I wondered if the men had something to do with the attack on our town all those years ago. They were probably part of an army.
My dogs were now just a blurry shape in a cloud of dust. The wind blew, the dust swirled . . . and a moment later, my pack was gone.
I wondered if I would ever see them again.
I heard a shriek and looked up to the sky. Eagle! She was just a dot far above, but she was still following. No truck was fast enough to outpace her!
A crisscrossing canopy of branches closed over the truck like a green curtain, cutting off my view of Eagle. I spun around and saw we were driving into what looked like a long green tunnel of trees.
I watched and waited, searching for a gap in the branches. I lost track of time as we travelled around bends and curves, winding our way through the forest. Finally, there was a break in the foliage, and I strained my neck to see the sky.
There was no sign of Eagle anywhere.
I slumped back in my seat. I knew my dogs were loyal. I was sure they would come for me. They may not be as fast as a truck, but they were excellent trackers, especially Nosey. Besides, it was just one long road; all they had to do was follow.
But then my heart sank. A crossroads appeared ahead, and the road split in three.
I growled loudly.
The driver glanced back at me, slightly nervous. ‘Maybe we should tie her up?’
Moustache Man scoffed. ‘She’s just a little girl.’
We turned down the right-hand road. How would my dogs know which direction we’d gone? I had to do something to help them, maybe give them a scent to follow. The only thing I could think of was to pluck some hair from my head and throw the strands through the bars.
The strands whipped away behind the truck, gone in an instant. It didn’t seem like much, but I hoped the hair would leave a trail. Would it be enough to show the dogs the way?
I tried to have faith in Nosey’s incredible sense of smell. It had surprised me enough times before.
As we drove on, I tugged more hair free, letting strands go one after the other.
Suddenly Moustache Man turned in his seat. ‘So what were you doing out in the forest, anyway? Eh?’
I glared at him angrily. I wasn’t going to tell him anything.
‘Did you hear me, little girl? I asked you a question!’
I stared at him like I stared at Brutus when he challenged me.
After a moment, he sniffed and turned away. ‘It doesn’t matter whether you talk or not. Fran will still find a use for you.’
I slipped my hand inside my shirt and closed it around my sling. It gave me a sense of hope. These men thought I was just a normal girl.
‘She’s . . . baring her teeth at me!’ said the driver.
‘Never mind her,’ said Moustache Man. ‘We’re here.’
We pulled out of the green tunnel into sunlight.
We came to a stop in a clear area surrounded by tree stumps. In front of us was a high wall patrolled by soldiers.
A huge gate swung open and we drove through. I looked up at the walls – much too high for any dog to climb or leap.
We entered a large yard and my nose twitched. I smelt sweat and things I hadn’t smelt in years – rubber, petrol, sawdust. I had grown so used to fresh air and fern leaves that these smells were now confusing and disorienting.
But they also took me back years, to the garage with my dad. He used to fix cars and I would help him, handing him a screwdriver or spanner when he asked. It hit me then how much I missed him. How much I missed all my family.
I looked up to see a wooden building and behind it rose a rocky mountain. A strange sound bounced off its slopes . . .thunk, thunk, thunk.
The gate made a different kind of thunk as it closed behind me, one which seemed to echo through my soul. You are trapped, it said.
I shook the feeling off. I was going to get out of this!
Moustache Man appeared by the side of the truck. He knocked on the window and gave me a nasty smile. Then he walked towards an approaching group of soldiers who were led by a lean woman with jet-black hair.
I pricked up my ears. They probably didn’t think I could hear them, but after years of listening out for lizards in the undergrowth, a nearby conversation was not even a challenge.
‘. . . seemed to be following her ar
ound, Fran,’ Moustache Man was saying.
‘What do you mean?’ Fran demanded.
‘I, er . . .’ Moustache Man muttered.
‘She was with a pack of dogs?’
‘We had to leave quick or they would have attacked us,’ added the driver. ‘I think one of them was a wolf.’
‘A wolf?’ Fran raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.
‘Yes,’ said the driver, nodding. ‘And another one was a chihuahua.’
‘A wolf and a chihuahua?’ said Fran. She glanced at her soldiers and burst out laughing. Quickly, they joined in.
‘Well, it was,’ the driver protested.
Fran waved a hand, and the soldiers fell silent. ‘Do you think the girl could have escaped from one of the other camps?’
‘She doesn’t look like a camp kid,’ said Moustache Man. ‘She seems . . . well, wild.’
‘Show her to me,’ said Fran.
Moustache Man gave a quick bow, and they all turned towards the truck.
I ducked below the headrests, my heart thumping. Now was my chance. If I could take them by surprise and get past them, maybe I could find a way out? I squeezed into the gap behind the seats and prepared to spring.
The key slid into the truck door and the handle turned. A sliver of light shone through the crack and I sprang forward!
The door swung open, hitting Moustache Man hard in the chest and sending him sprawling backwards with a yell.
I landed on all fours and took off.
‘Get her!’ shouted Fran.
A soldier leapt after me, but I swerved around him and bolted towards the scaffolding.
‘Raise the ladders!’ shouted Fran.
Soldiers on the walls began to hoist up the ladders. I ran towards one and jumped, catching the bottom rung with both hands. I swung myself up and started climbing.
But the soldiers above must have realised they were helping me, and they let go of the ladder. My teeth clacked in my head as the ladder jolted downwards, but I managed to hold on. More soldiers clustered above.
I glanced to my left and saw another ladder. I sprang towards it and landed lightly, then I shot upwards like a lizard in a tree.
As I leapt from the ladder onto the scaffolding, a soldier made a grab for me but I dodged out of his reach.
I raced along the scaffolding as soldiers closed in from either direction. From up here, I could see the source of the thunking. Past the wire fences against the mountainside was a field full of children – dozens of them – breaking rocks with hammers.
I looked over the side of the wall and saw a long straight drop, without anything to grab onto.
‘Come here, you brat!’
I spun to see a burly soldier coming at me. I ducked under him and slipped right off the scaffolding onto a ladder, jolting it downwards. It stopped a metre from the ground, and I leapt off and raced away.
Half the soldiers were now up on the scaffolding.
‘You fools!’ shouted Fran.
I made for the main building, but more soldiers spilled from its front doors. I turned instead towards the wire fence.
Moustache Man and the driver tried to cut me off. I scooped up a handful of rocks from the ground.
I slipped one into my sling and swung it over my head. I sent the rock whizzing through the air. It hit Moustache Man right in the forehead, and he fell backwards, unconscious.
I let loose a second rock and hit the driver in the knee. He yelped and doubled over.
I leapt onto his back, using him to spring at the wire fence.
After years of climbing trees and vines, this fence was a breeze. Adrenaline coursed through me as I went up.
But suddenly, a firm grip seized my leg and flung me backwards through the air. I landed with a thud as my breath shot out of me. A boot planted down heavily on my chest.
I looked up to find Fran standing over me. I tried to scratch her, but my fingernails did nothing against the leather of her boots.
She chuckled as soldiers circled around us.
‘My, my,’ she said. ‘You’re a spirited one. What’s your name, girl?’
I glowered at her.
Fran frowned. ‘Very well. Maybe some time in a cell will loosen your tongue. Lock her up.’ She lifted her boot as soldiers grabbed my arms. ‘And for goodness sake, somebody take that sling away from her.’
Two soldiers took my sling and bound my hands with rope. They unlocked a gate and led me through. As we reached the crest of a slope I could see dozens of kids working. Kids like me.
Kids who should have been playing soccer or skipping rope or chasing each other around in a school playground. What was this place?!
The soldiers pushed me into a building.
We entered a big room with narrow windows, too narrow for anyone to squeeze through. In the dim light coming in through the windows, I saw rows of mats on the ground down the length of the room.
The floor was dirt, and the air was sour with sweat and mildew.
One of the soldiers saw me wrinkle my nose and laughed. ‘You wish you had it so good,’ he said, and turned me towards a flight of stairs.
At the top of the stairs was a corridor with closed doors lining either side. I looked around, trying to collect as much information as I could. The corridor ran the whole length of the building towards another flight of stairs going down at the other end. Escape. How can I escape?
We came to an open door leading to a little room. There was another soldier playing with cards at a desk. He was short with a shaven head. Baldy is the perfect name for you, I thought.
When Baldy saw us, he hurriedly got up.
Baldy reached for a ring of keys that was hanging on the wall behind his desk.
My captor put out a hand to take them, but Baldy held them out of his grasp.
‘Uh-uh,’ said Baldy. ‘The keys are my responsibility.’
My captor scowled. ‘Fine. While you’re at it, stow this somewhere.’ He tossed my sling onto Baldy’s desk.
Baldy stepped out of his office and led us further down the corridor to a row of cells. He unlocked one and the soldiers shoved me in. My wrists were still tied.
The cell was small and cramped, and the air was humid. There was nothing inside but an empty bucket, a filthy pillow, and a pile of straw on the ground.
Baldy closed the door and locked it.
My heart pounded and my breath came in gasps. I hadn’t been alone in a locked room – in any room – for years. I fought to keep control.
I forced myself to think back, to remember the Gwen I was before all this started. I used to love being by myself in my bedroom. I’d read and draw and do whatever I wanted undisturbed. My sister Kate would have to knock, and I got to decide if I would let her in. But this place was very different.
I sniffed around the cell. It stank!
The barred window above was too high for me to see out of, but a breeze blew in, and I could catch a whiff of the forest. How I longed for the trees and my dogs.
The panic threatened to return. I threw back my head and howled.
From the light angling through the window, it must have been around mid-afternoon when Baldy returned.
‘On your feet,’ he said, unlocking the gate with the jangling keys.
I wanted to launch at him snarling and snapping, but I fought the urge. If I was going to get out of this place, I needed to be smart, and I wasn’t going to escape easily while bound.
I held my tied hands up at him.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Baldy. ‘Not without Fran’s approval.’
He drew a baton from his belt and waved it at my face.
‘They tell me you’re quick on your feet. Feel free to make a break for it, and we’ll see how far you get.’
He gestured for me to lead the way. We went back down the corridor and came to a closed door. Baldy tapped on it with his baton.
‘Enter!’ came Fran’s voice.
We stepped through into what looked like a doctor�
��s office. Fran was in there with a man I didn’t recognise.
‘Here she is, ma’am,’ said Baldy. ‘Do you need me to . . .’
‘That will be all,’ said Fran, in a clipped tone.
Baldy bowed and left.
Fran looked down at me sternly. ‘The workers who found you are telling me you were raised by wolves . . .Wolf Girl, they call you.’ She arched an eyebrow. ‘I would rather have your real name.’
I stayed silent.
Fran rapped her knuckles on the desk.
‘Name!’ she screeched.
I stood defiant, staring directly into her eyes.
The man next to her intervened.
‘Hello, young lady. I’m Doctor Andrews. Is it all right if I take a look at you?’
I hesitated. He seemed nice enough, but I couldn’t trust anyone here.
He sensed my indecision. ‘What if I undo the rope?’ he said, gesturing at my hands. He looked up to Fran, who nodded.
Andrews turned back to me. ‘Do we have a deal, Wolf Girl? It’s just a few little tests to make sure you’re okay.’
I nodded once.
‘Wonderful,’ said Andrews. He produced a scalpel and carefully cut at the ropes around my wrists. ‘Up you hop, then.’ He patted the examination table, and I climbed on.
He then shone a light into my eyes and ears, listened to my breathing, poked and prodded me. When he asked questions, I would nod or shake my head in answer.
Eventually he turned to Fran. ‘She seems fine,’ he said. ‘Could probably do with a bath.’
‘Couldn’t we all,’ said Fran. ‘Now then, girl, it’s time to stop this foolishness. I know you can talk. I’m told you asked about your family after you came out of the forest. So, who are you? What were you doing out there?’