by Ruth Fox
“And why are they only kidnapping kids?” Zach added. “Not adults?”
“It’s easier, maybe, to take kids,” Lex said.
“Not really,” Ryder put in. “If you think about it. Look at all the increased security. All the adults are out there running around protecting us. So it’s got to be something they want from kids specifically.”
They all thought hard about this, but without knowing more about what was happening outside this room, they couldn’t come up with an answer.
Finally, Maryanne spoke up. “I can untie your hands,” she said. “If you’d like.”
“You should leave them tied up!” Harrison interjected loudly.
“What good would that do?” Maryanne burst out, then looked astonished at herself.
Zach was aware that they had an audience, now, and that all the kids—those who were still whole and able to comprehend, anyway—were listening and watching with interest.
Maryanne realised it, too. She seemed to draw strength from it, and decisively, she told Zach to turn around.
Zach did so. He felt her take his hands, and felt her pull the zip tie to lessen the tension, then slip it free, the way Monster-boy had been meant to once they were inside the Grotto building. His hands felt numb and tingly. Monster-boy really had done the tie up tightly.
Maryanne released Ryder, then Lex, who immediately set her glasses to rights. “You can sit over here,” the younger girl said. It sounded like she was offering some small gift that she wasn’t sure anyone would really want. “With me.”
“That would be fantastic,” said Lex, and the others nodded in agreement.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was as if the cold slowed time. It crept into their bones and numbed their fingers and toes, even making Zach’s eyelids feel brittle as his eyelashes froze.
“I see what they mean by ‘keeping us quiet’,” said Lex. “It’s too bloody cold to do anything except shiver.”
It was very true—no one had the inclination to do much of anything when they were so cold. They huddled together and wrapped what clothes they had around their shoulders and feet.
Most topics of conversation had run out ages ago. Even arguments, which were usually over who was hogging a woollen jumper, or whether or not someone was snoring, were short-lived. Anyone who stormed off in a huff soon had to return to the others and the shared warmth.
“They take the ones who make noise or cry or fight,” Maryanne informed them. “I don’t know why. Maybe to shut them up. When they come back, they’re not so noisy anymore.”
“Ida’s not here,” Zach said disconsolately.
“Or Fiona,” Lex pointed out. They had recognised a few people from their school, but no one from their class. That was worrying. Were Fiona and Ida being kept in the room Maryanne had spoken about, where she’d seen kids in cages?
“If we don’t find the rest of the kids, we won’t be able to get everyone out,” Zach said.
“But we’re going to do it, aren’t we?” said Maryanne, stretching the neck of her Pixie Ponies top up over her ears. “We’re going to escape.”
“Yes,” said Zach firmly. “Of course we are. Some of the other kids did it, right? Tommy and Bella and Miranda got out of here somehow.”
“Miranda’s all right?” Maryanne said. “Oh! One day they just didn’t bring her back. I thought maybe she’d . . .” She trailed off, not wanting to say the word “died.”
“She’s alive,” Zach said. “But she’s sick. So are the others.”
“They must have escaped from the Testing Chamber somehow. They hadn’t been taken very often,” Maryanne said. “They weren’t as bad as some of the others. But I still don’t know how they would have gotten out.”
Ryder looked worried, probably imagining his sister plotting her escape in spite of their monster captors. “She could walk when she was found, but that was about all she could do,” he said. “I don’t know how she found her way through the tunnels in that state without getting lost.”
“Well,” Zach said firmly. “If they did it, we can too. And we’re not leaving anyone behind.”
“Not even that kid with the loud voice?” Ryder asked with a groan.
Lex sniggered.
“Which means,” Zach went on, “we have to find out where the others are. We’re going to have to get them to take one of us into the room where they’re doing their experiments. We have to get them to pick one of us to be tested next.”
They looked at one another.
“But how will that help?” Ryder asked. “I mean, if they’re taking kids to turn them into those”—he waved his hand at the listless kids—“sleepers—well, whoever gets picked is just going to end up a zombie.”
“Not at first,” said Maryanne. “First, they just test you. Like they did to me. Sometimes they bring you back after that and you’re not taken again for a while. The kids they take get worse every time they go. Those ones—” she pointed to the worst of the “sleepers” as Ryder had dubbed them, “—they’ve been taken four or five times.”
“So we’ll only end up being partial zombies after the first time,” Ryder said. “My mum would probably say it’d be an improvement for me.”
“If they take kids who make trouble, we need to do exactly that. We need to attract their attention. Just like we did with the bulldozer, right?” Zach looked around at them, trying to gauge their reactions, but no one said anything.
“We can’t count on it being any particular one of us,” he went on. “We’ve got a better chance if we’re all prepared to be taken.”
He waited for them to give their excuses. He wouldn’t blame them. He would have liked to have said, “Now we know what they’re doing out there, I’m just going to sit here and hope they don’t notice me.”
But Lex nodded, sending her glasses sliding around. She looked determined.
Ryder said, “I think I’ve got a way to attract their attention.”
Zach had never in his life been so glad to have his friends with him.
❖ ❖ ❖
“It won’t work,” said Harrison.
Zach had known he would be the first to sneer at the idea—if they’d told him the Earth was round he would probably tell them it wasn’t.
“It’s our best shot,” said Ryder.
“It’s better than sitting here doing nothing!” said Lex.
“At least this way we’ve got a chance!” Maryanne put in, and Zach shot her a grateful look.
“I’m just saying,” Harrison shrugged. “They might just kill us all if it goes wrong.”
“That’s not likely. They’ve gone to all the trouble of rounding us up. We’re valuable to them—whatever they’re doing to us, it’s important enough for them to keep doing it, even with all the extra security in North Silvershine.” Zach kept his voice low and calm and reasonable, even though he’d never wanted to punch someone in the face more than he wanted to punch Harrison. “So you don’t have to worry about yourself. At least . . . not this time. Maybe next time. Or the time after.”
Harrison’s jaw still stuck out defiantly, but there was a noticeable quiver in his lip. “Fine,” he said. “But if they try to pick me, I’m going to tell them who started it!”
Zach held his tongue. All he needed was for Harrison to stay out of the way. It sounded as if Harrison would do just that, provided everything worked out.
Which, Zach thought ruefully as he thought back on what Monster-boy had done, didn’t always happen.
❖ ❖ ❖
They had to wait to put their plan into action. Maryanne told them food was delivered at regular intervals, though, of course, they couldn’t tell what those intervals were, because none of the other kids had been left with a watch.
Zach had.
He ran his fingers over the face of his very cool watch now, thinking about that day when Mr. and Mrs. Morgenstern had given it to him. Had they ever imagined Zach would be using it now to mark out the hours until a violent group of monsters came to perform horrible tests on him or his friends?
Probably not.
“What time is it?” asked Lex in a sleepy voice.
She was sitting up against him, her cheek resting on his shoulder and her glasses hanging crooked. Her hair smelled like shampoo, sweet and flowery, and was making his nose itch, but somehow he didn’t mind that. He kind of liked that she was leaning on him instead of Ryder.
“It’s seven a.m.,” he said. In three hours Monster-boy was supposed to be facing his evaluation with Dr. O’Grady.
“Wow.” Lex rubbed her eyes. “It doesn’t feel like seven a.m.”
“I know what you mean. It doesn’t feel as if time passes at all in here.”
“How far down do you think we are?”
Zach looked up at the ceiling. “I’m trying not to think about it.”
“Zach,” Lex said quietly, but at that moment Ryder, who had fallen onto his side, snuffled loudly and woke up with a small cry.
“Ugh,” he said. “Geez. I was dreaming . . . we were playing Monster-tag . . .”
“I don’t think I’ll ever play that again,” Lex put in, and Zach was disappointed that any chance that she would finish whatever she’d been about to say was well and truly lost. “So how much longer do you think we’ll have to—”
Not much longer at all, apparently; at that moment, they heard a clanking and grinding from outside the door.
The kids moved back into a huddle. No one wanted to be at the front, where they might be seen and taken—except for the Sleepers, who didn’t move at all.
The door swung open. Lex, Zach, and Ryder stood up, as they’d planned. Then Maryanne stood up too—which they hadn’t planned. She was so terrified her lower lip was trembling, but she did it. She stood beside them, bravely facing whatever was to come.
Three monsters came through the door. One of them hung back, just out of sight behind the door. The other two looked similar enough to be brother and sister—pale-skinned, with ridges around their glassy green eyes and four long arms each—four!—except that Sister was shorter and wore a blue skirt. They’d been chosen for this task evidently because of their ability to carry multiple big, aluminum bowls with their many arms. They set these down on the floor, spilling some of their contents, which was something grey and sour-smelling, with the texture of glue.
“Eww,” said Lex, loudly.
The two monsters fixed her with an identical stare. “You eat what you’re given. Keep up your strength,” growled Brother.
“I’m just saying—what’s wrong with pancakes and syrup? This looks like . . .” she crinkled her nose and curled her lip, “industrial waste.”
The monsters bristled noticeably. Lex smirked with satisfaction, knowing she’d hit a nerve. They had cooked the meal. Though they hadn’t intended anyone to enjoy it, they’d expected the starving kids to be grateful to be fed at all.
“You think you can do better, I suppose, little human,” Brother sneered.
“Well, as a matter of fact, I—” Lex began, but the words died on her lips.
The third monster stepped into the room, and they all saw him clearly.
Monster-boy.
He looked . . . different. His head was held higher. He wasn’t looking down at his shoes, not at all—he didn’t look as if he’d ever been the hunched-over, reclusive person Zach had known. He looked tall and confident and . . . tough.
“He can do better,” Morton said, pointing a clawed hand at Zach.
Brother and Sister followed Morton’s extended finger with their eyes. “He can cook?”
“Yes,” Morton confirmed.
“He’s just a kid,” said Brother. “Are you sure?”
Lex, who had seen this opportunity and didn’t want to waste the chance, shouted. “He can cook like you wouldn’t believe! He makes the best macadamia-coconut biscuits you’ve ever tasted. You’d die for them.”
Zach tried to remember if Lex had ever tasted his cooking. He didn’t think so. He thought she would probably like his lemon pudding. He had the sudden idea that if they ever did get out of here, he would like to cook for her, so he could earn the praise she was heaping on him now.
Actually, she sounded a little too enthusiastic.
“Shhh,” he said, tugging at her arm. All three of the monsters noticed, but fortunately, this added credibility to the charade. It looked like Lex was trying to throw him under the bus. And that Zach wanted nothing more than to stay unnoticed in the sea of kids.
Brother and Sister narrowed their eyes at Zach as Lex took another step forwards, and Brother said: “It would solve our problem . . .”
“Sh,” said Sister. “Donovan said—”
“Donovan expects the best,” said Monster-boy, cutting them off imperiously. His luminous eyes were fixed on a point above all their heads. “If you served a truly satisfying meal that might bring you into favour.”
“Donovan is clearly not happy with our efforts so far,” said Brother. “It may be worth a try, especially if you say so, master!”
Master? Zach stared at Monster-boy, who hadn’t reacted to the word at all.
“Anyway,” said Lex, raising her voice. None of the monsters had noticed how close she’d come to them while she’d been talking. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m totally not going to be eating this slop.”
She kicked the closest bowl so it flew right up in the air, spiralling and splattering the grey gloop all over the walls, the floor, and the monsters.
“Ugh!” said Brother, wiping the sticky stuff out of his eyes. Sister whirled on Lex, enraged, and grabbed her arm with one of her four hands. Her long fingers dug in deep, twisting her wrist so Lex was forced to the floor. Lex’s glasses fell off and skittered away.
Zach had to stop himself from rushing up and pulling Lex free of her grip. He couldn’t. They’d agreed; he couldn’t break the plan . . .
“You little brat!” yelled Sister.
Monster-boy indifferently wiped the spatter from his cheek and bent to retrieve the upturned bowl.
“You will learn,” he said quietly. “You don’t eat, you’re punished.”
He tilted the bowl, and the remaining slop dripped into Lex’s mouth. She gagged and spat, but Sister gripped her chin and forced her mouth closed. Lex made a choking sound, but she had to swallow. Sister let her go at last, and she fell to the floor, coughing.
Stay still, Zach said. Don’t go to her. Not yet.
He looked at Monster-boy, wondering how he could have done that to Lex. He expected to see a flicker of remorse or anxiety. But no. Zach’s adopted brother was looking into the distance, again. There was a little crease between his eyebrows, but that was probably disgust and annoyance at having the foul-smelling gloop sprayed over him, not concern for the girl who was choking at his feet.
Brother looked over the crowd of children, who ducked their heads and tried to pretend they hadn’t noticed the spectacle. “You eat,” he commanded. “All of you. If these bowls aren’t empty by the time we come back, you’ll all be force-fed like she was. Got it?”
There was a murmur of agreement, and a vigorous nodding of heads. Brother and Sister turned, collected Monster-boy, and stepped back through the door. It clanged shut behind them.
Zach rushed to Lex’s side then. “Are you okay?”
Lex coughed some more and wiped her mouth. “Ugh. If you don’t count nearly choking on something that tastes like unwashed feet, then yeah. Where are my glasses?”
“Well,” said Ryder, handing her glasses back to her. “I think we got their a
ttention.”
❖ ❖ ❖
Once the monsters had locked the door, and the vents hissed and blew more streams of frigid white air into the room, Harrison stood up. He had been right at the back, but now the kids around him drew aside, making a path.
“That monster,” he said, narrowing his eyes at Zach. “He’s the one from the orphanage. He’s the one your parents adopted. He’s your brother!”
Harrison started to laugh. “So, he’s joined the other side? That’s hilarious! I always knew he shouldn’t be allowed on our side of the Wall. So what is this—his revenge against you?”
Zach couldn’t respond. He couldn’t argue. With what he’d just done to Lex, Monster-boy had proved he’d sided with the South Silvershiners. Morton was truly one of them.
Harrison walked past them, his nose up in the air. “Brilliant show, by the way.” He picked up one of the bowls. “I hope it was worth it.”
He stood there, scooping gloop into his mouth with his hands. It dripped down his chin, onto his shirt, and he didn’t care.
None of the other kids moved. They huddled together, watching him. Their hunger was clear on their faces, but no one told him to share, or to leave enough for everyone else.
“You going to eat all of that?” asked Ryder.
Harrison shrugged. “You want to stop me?”
Harrison was a weedy kid. Ryder could have picked him up with one hand and thrown him like a discus. That’s probably what Ryder was planning to do—the kid was obviously wearing on even Ryder’s usually steady nerves—when Zach grabbed his arm. “Hitting him won’t help,” he murmured.
Harrison chose that moment to wipe his mouth and give a loud belch. He dropped the rest of the bowl of food to the floor, and called loudly: “You heard what the monsters said! Everyone eats. Don’t leave a drop.”