“Go and lie down, Bex,” he says. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I almost laugh, but it comes out as a sob. I will myself not to burst into tears; and nod.
“Yeah. I should go.” I stand up to leave, and Dan hands me my water bottle. It’s a small act of kindness, but it reminds me that even in a world where the people I work for – the people who kidnapped me and my friends – just destroyed a town full of civilians, someone still cares about me. I leave the room as the tears are welling up in my eyes, and my vision is blurry all the way back to my bunk. I pull off my fatigues and base layers, change into pyjamas and climb into my narrow bed. I pull the covers over my head and lie in silence, tears streaming onto my pillow.
What did Margie mean? Did the government really do this to the town? Is that why they emptied the camp – so the gas wouldn’t poison anyone here? Why Saunders came to Birmingham, even though he couldn’t join us on patrol? Why the camp staff had an NBC drill?
And I realise that it wasn’t a drill. They couldn’t afford to have anyone at the camp while the City Killers were running. Anyone still here would have felt the vibrations, and been in danger from the gas. They needed to have no witnesses, so they took us all off site.
And then they killed the town.
I’m angry and I’m frightened. I’ve seen things that I shouldn’t have seen. I know what my government has done, and I can’t report it to anyone. I can’t be the one person who knows. I can’t stay here.
And then I remember that Margie knows, too. It’s not safe for either of us here.
We need to leave.
Truth
In the morning I drag myself out of bed. I take a shower, and wash my face again with cold water to hide my puffy eyes. I get dressed and allow myself to follow the morning routine I’ve grown used to. Down the corridor to the dining room. Take a tray of food, sit down, make myself eat. Saunders sits down next to me, flips my mug the right way up and pours the coffee. He doesn’t say anything, but eats his breakfast without comment. Dan joins us, and surrounded by quiet conversations, we eat in silence.
I’m thinking about how I’m going to make it through today without screaming, or telling someone what I saw in town. How I’m going to concentrate on training and not on the City Killers. How I’m going to get Margie out of here.
Commander Bracken strides in, followed by the Senior Recruits, and we all stand. The screeching of the chairs makes me cringe, and I close my eyes to block out the room around me.
“Recruits!”
“Sir!”
“Be seated.” More screeching as we all pull our chairs in to the tables. His assistant walks in, and starts to switch on and set up the television on the far wall.
“This morning, we have bad news. Today will not be the training day you are expecting. There has been an attack.”
There are whispers and murmurs from around the room. I sit very still, staring at my empty plate, gritting my teeth and digging my fingernails in to the palms of my hands. I don’t want to hear what the Commander is going to say, and I don’t want to react in front of everyone. I feel sick, and I feel as if someone has dropped a heavy bag on my shoulders. I want to scream. I want to tell him that I know what he’s done – what we have done. It takes all my concentration to keep quiet, and listen to what I know is coming next.
“We will not be following our usual route on the training run. Leominster is sealed off. The terrorists have struck on our doorstep, and we are only just coming to understand the severity of the attack.
“In the coming days, it will be our duty to assist the army in whatever capacity they require. You are no longer recruits. You have graduated to armed auxiliaries. The army can now request your service at any time.
“This is an extremely serious attack. It demonstrates that the rebels are no longer a background threat to our way of life. They are well-armed and very dangerous. We don’t know where they will attack next, but we will be on call to help prevent future incidents, and to assist if they attack again.”
He nods to the assistant, who switches the television to the Public Information Network and turns up the sound. It’s seven o’clock, and the news report is just beginning.
The newsreader breaks the story, and hands over to a camera crew on the ground. I know what the images are going to show, and I don’t want to see it again, but I can’t stop watching. The room is silent.
The reporter is walking along another road in town, but it looks the same as the places I saw yesterday. The buildings have crumbled. The roads are blocked by crashed vehicles and empty cars. There are more abandoned possessions littering the road and the pavements. The town is in ruins.
There are gasps from around me. I keep my jaw tight and my fists clenched. I’m trying hard not to cry again, but the anger and the horror is building up. I realise I’m shaking and I do my best to relax. I can’t expose my knowledge.
The screen is showing drone footage of the town, and I see what I hadn’t seen before. People have gathered in open spaces – in parks, in car parks – and it is there that they have fallen, killed by the effects of the gas. They must have been directed there. There must have been troops evacuating the buildings, the vehicles, the streets. The people followed them, when the shaking started. They believed that they would be safe, and instead the gas killed them.
I’m fighting the urge to vomit.
The report ends, and the newsreader returns.
“Breaking news: the Prime Minister has just announced a heightened state of National Emergency, and the introduction of Martial Law. In the light of such an audacious terrorist attack, she has placed the security of the country in the hands of the army. Parliament will be dissolved, until such time as these attacks can be stopped, and the democratic process can be safely reinstated …”
The assistant hurries to turn the television off. Commander Bracken points at the blank screen.
“This is what we are dealing with now. A terrorist army that can wipe out thousands of people in an afternoon. Fighters who hate us, and hate what we stand for, so much that they are willing to do this.”
I want to shout. I want to scream at him that this wasn’t the terrorists. This was us! We did this! I’m shaking, I’m angry, and I need to calm down. I can’t accuse the Commander. If Ketty and Jackson could beat me up for helping other recruits, what would they do to me if they found out where I went yesterday? That I spoke to the prisoner? That the prisoner is my friend?
What would they do to Margie, if they knew what she had told me? What will they do to Margie, now that they are blaming the terrorists, officially, on the news? She could be the terrorist figurehead they’ve been looking for. The front-line doll from the enemy. Will they put her on television, too? What will happen to her?
“You will return to your dorms, and you will pack your belongings. The army will request support from me today, and some of you will be relocated to assist with their clean-up and protection duties. Be ready to leave when you are called. Ensure that your armour and weapons are in working order, and report any faults immediately.
“This is it. This is the real thing. You’ve been trained, you can handle the fight. Go out and protect the people who need you. Things are going to change from now on. You’re on the front line. Dismissed!”
And with the screeching of the chairs, all I can think is ‘cannon fodder’.
*****
I walk back to my dorm room in a daze, following the rush of people. Inside, there are people packing their bags, people checking their weapons, and there are people sitting and standing with stunned expressions on their faces. I make myself pull my rucksack from my locker, and start pushing clothes and belongings into it. I’m not paying attention, but this way I’m not facing other people in the room. I’m trying to clear my head and think quickly.
I need to tell Dan.
It will be dangerous for him to know, but if I’m going to get myself and Margie away from here, I’m going to need
help. I finish filling my rucksack, and throw it onto my bed. I pull out my armour crate and stack it next to my bag. Then I head out through the confusion of recruits packing and talking, and go to find Dan.
I find him outside his dorm room, trying to convince Saunders to concentrate on packing bags and checking armour. Saunders looks stunned, and clearly needs someone to help him focus, but I don’t have time to babysit him. I grab Dan’s elbow, and keep walking, dragging him along the corridor with me.
“Bex! What are you … what’s going on?”
I shush him, and pull him to the end of the corridor, then out through the back door of the dorm. I close the door, and drop his elbow, then look around for anyone who might overhear, checking along both sides of the building. There’s no one close by, and everyone I can see is in a hurry – packing equipment onto vehicles, carrying bags and crates. I turn back to Dan.
“We don’t have much time.”
“What’s …” he begins, but I cut him off.
“There’s something you need to know. And I’m really sorry, but once you know, you’re going to be in danger here.” He looks at me as if I’m speaking another language.
“The prisoner is Margie.”
“She’s … what? She’s here?” He can’t help leaning round the side of the building to look at the empty dorm.
“I spoke to her.”
“You … how?”
I shake my head in frustration.
“Never mind. But you need to hear what she told me.” He nods. “The attack in town? That wasn’t the terrorists. That was the government.”
He’s shaking his head now.
“No. No way, Bex. Why would they do that? And you’ve only got Margie’s word for it. She’s been brainwashed by the terrorists.”
I’m shaking my head at him.
“What? You can’t trust her, Bex. She’s only telling you what she’s been told. And why would the government do that? It makes no sense.”
“I went into town.”
“You did what? When?”
“Yesterday, while you were playing cards. I went under the fence, and I went into town.”
He’s gaping at me. He grabs my elbow.
“Have you gone completely mad? Why did you do that?”
“The attack didn’t happen last night. It happened while we were in Birmingham.” He’s shaking his head. “Margie told me. She knew about the attack before the news report. She told me it wasn’t them.”
“And you believed her?”
“I had to go and find out.”
He drops my elbow and turns away.
“What did you find?”
“We did it. She was right. They used City Killers. The soldiers must have evacuated people from their cars and their houses when the earthquakes started, and gathered them in the parks. That’s where they were when the gas was released. I didn’t understand where all the people were yesterday, but the news report showed what happened to them.”
He’s shaking his head. “How do you know that it was us? How do you know that the terrorists haven’t stolen a warehouse of City Killers? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Ketty and Jackson were there.”
“What?”
“I saw Ketty and Jackson. They were on the clean-up crew. They were picking up the City Killers and getting rid of the evidence. And there were government soldiers switching them off and checking they were safe for collection.” There are tears in my eyes, and I’m so relieved to be sharing this with someone else, but I’m seeing everything again, and remembering the fear and the horror of what I saw.
“Wait – you’re sure about this?”
I nod, and brush tears from my cheeks.
“They were having fun. They thought it was a laugh, clearing the weapons and driving into abandoned cars. I was hiding, and they were so close to finding me …” I take a breath, trying to think this through. “I have to get out. I can’t be here and know this. And we have to get Margie out, too.”
Dan puts his arm around my shoulders. He thinks for a moment, then nods, slowly.
“Martial law. That’s how they’re justifying putting the army in charge. They’re using the attack as an excuse to get rid of the civilian government.”
He gives me a quick hug, and pulls open the back door.
“Let me finish packing, and check on Saunders. I’ll find you in half an hour.”
I hope we have half an hour.
Help
I hurry to the kitchen. I’m going to need help from Charlie again if I stand a chance of getting close to Margie. As I walk past the windows, I can see Commander Bracken addressing the kitchen staff. At the back door to the kitchen, I hesitate. I don’t want to draw attention to myself by interrupting, but I need to talk to Charlie as soon as possible. My mind is racing – I’m trying to come up with a plan that keeps everyone out of trouble, and gets Margie out of the camp. The current state of confusion offers us the best chance to do this without being detected, so I need to act quickly. A camp uniform will get me into the dorm. I need a way of sneaking Margie out unnoticed, and I need a way out of the camp.
The door slams open and a group of staff members hurries out, carrying crates of water bottles and flasks, and heading for the vehicle parking area. I wait for them to disappear round the corner of the building, then tuck myself in through the slowly closing door. There’s no one in the locker room, but as I glance down the corridor to the kitchen I find Charlie walking towards me with another crate of water. I step back, round the corner next to the lockers, and wait.
“What are you doing here, Bex?” Charlie asks as she places the crate on the floor next to the door. “I thought you were all getting ready to leave.” She straightens up and looks at me. “What’s wrong?”
“I need the uniform again.”
She shakes her head.
“No, Bex. It’s too dangerous.” I open my mouth to protest, but she cuts me off. “We’re all running round with urgent jobs to do. I have no idea what they’re planning for the prisoner, but I don’t want to get in the way. Not after what their friends have done.”
“But they haven’t done anything.”
“What? What are you talking about? You’ve seen the news, right?”
I’m shaking my head, and fighting back tears again.
“They didn’t do it, Charlie. We did.”
She steps towards me, and pulls me past the lockers to the end of the room.
“Say that again.”
“The terrorists didn’t kill the town. We did. I saw the weapons they used, and I saw the government troops clearing them away. Your NBC drill? That wasn’t a drill. That’s when they killed everyone in town. That’s why they sent us to Birmingham – so there was no one on site when it happened.”
“But it happened last night.”
“It didn’t. It happened when we were all off site. I saw it yesterday, before any of the reporters arrived.”
“You went into town?” I nod. “You’re crazier than I realised … and braver. What were you thinking? What if you’d got caught?”
There are tears in my eyes, but I half sob, half laugh at this. Charlie puts her arm round my shoulders.
“You could still get caught. They’ll lock you up, or worse, if they find out what you know.”
I nod, fighting the tears.
“And Margie. Margie knows, too. And I’ve told Dan.”
Charlie straightens up, shakes her head, comes to a decision.
“OK. We have to get you out. What do you need?”
Confusion
Dan and Saunders track me down in the corridor outside Dan’s dorm room. Recruits are still packing, talking and shouting, or sitting on their own, trying to process what they’ve seen. We’re in the middle of chaos, and this is our opportunity to act.
I explain my plan, and hand them bundles of clothing and a stack of brightly coloured empty crates. We split up, and return to our dorm rooms to change – I pull my base layers on,
put the staff uniform on top, and stuff my fatigues into the top of my rucksack. I transfer my armour, helmet, gun, and rucksack into a bright green crate from the kitchen, and carry it out of the building. We meet up outside the back door.
Dan has recruited Amy and Jake. Dressed in fatigues instead of staff uniforms, and carrying their belongings in their rucksacks, we agree that they will be our distraction, and we’ll pick them up on our way out. Amy takes my crate, and I leave the others and walk back to the kitchen.
Charlie is waiting at the back door. She hands me a bottle of water and a chocolate bar.
“See you at the gate.” She winks, and jingles a set of vehicle keys that she pulls from her pocket and puts straight back. “Go and get her,” she says, and opens the door.
I grasp her hand quickly, tightly, then let go and begin my walk to the empty dorm.
It’s another long walk, past groups of camp staff carrying supplies to vehicles, and Senior Recruits moving equipment. I’m fighting to stay calm. At the door, I show the snack and the bottle. The guard waves me through, and I cross the dining area towards the corridor.
Halfway across the room, I hear voices from the corridor. Batman and Robin, talking to … Ketty and Jackson? I look around for somewhere to hide.
Crouched under a table, I watch them walk across the dining room and leave the building. My heart is hammering, and I am starting to realise how dangerous this plan could be.
I stand up, and make my way towards Margie’s room. I’m trying to look confident, but inside I’m terrified.
Outside the room, another member of staff is sitting, working on a newspaper crossword. I force a bright smile and hold up the chocolate and the water bottle.
“For the prisoner,” I announce. He nods. “Do you want to take a break? I’ll sit with her while she eats, if you like.” I have no idea what he’s been told about staying close to the room, but I’m hoping that he’ll be as happy to take a break as Harriet was.
The Battle Ground Series: Books 1-3 Page 11