‘You mean we should hide?’ I say.
‘I’m good with hiding,’ says Chets, tugging on my sleeve like a toddler.
‘If we all hide in one place, they’re going to find us. Quickly,’ I say.
‘So we barricade ourselves in. We could use the dining hall – move those big tables across the doors. The windows are high, so they won’t be able to climb in through those. You see, I’ve thought of everything. That’s why I’m head boy.’
‘No, no, no.’ I shake my head. ‘This is a bad plan. And not just because it’s yours.’
‘What’s the problem, Fangs? I thought you loved trapping people in places.’
‘That’s exactly it, Trent. If you barricade yourselves in, you’re trapped. Haven’t you seen this exact scenario in a million films and books and on the TV? When people barricade themselves in, it never works. The barricades don’t hold, or the bad guys find some other way in – the roof, the air vents, underground tunnels. There is always a way.’
‘You’re just scared we’re going to see you in your true form, when your fangs grow extra-long and wings sprout out of your back.’
‘You’re right. That’s exactly why I’m saying we shouldn’t go through with your stupid plan.’
I turn to the others. ‘Listen. I’ve played a lot of strategy games. The key to survival in these situations is to keep moving. We need to know what we’re dealing with. We’ll probably need to collect supplies as we go. We need to stay one step ahead of the enemy. We shut ourselves in a room and we might never get out. Or at least the real usses won’t get out.’
‘Why should we trust you? All you do is play computer games, like those YouTube losers. You can’t even kick a football. I’m head boy, so I get to decide,’ Trent says.
Actually, I can kick a football, just not very well.
‘I don’t see how the ability to kick a football is even relevant here,’ I say. ‘Plus, this is a life or death situation, so normal leadership hierarchies don’t apply. It’s every man for himself, and I’m not going to follow someone who’s going to get me bugged.’ There is no way I’m doing what Trent wants. I’m hoping that everyone else will see how suicidal his plan is.
‘I’ll Geek, Robot, Overlord you for it,’ he says.
‘Fine,’ I sigh. ‘One, two, three…’
‘Overlord!’ Trent says, doing the Overlord action, which is thumping down both fists on the arms of your throne. At the exact same time, I say ‘Robot!’ and robot smash his fists aside. I told you, he always plays Overlord.
‘Best of three,’ he says.
‘No one called best of three,’ Big Mak says. ‘Lance won and you’d better deal with it, son.’
‘Go slither around the centre, then. We don’t want you anyway. You’d be a liability.’ Trent is such a good loser.
‘Fine. You guys can do what you want. I’m going.’
‘Lance, you can’t!’ Chets looks terrified.
‘Chets, I know it seems easier to sit tight and hope someone comes to help us, but sometimes the easiest choice isn’t the right choice. I don’t want to turn into one of those whatever-they-ares, so I’m going. You should come with me.’
‘Are you sure, though?’ Chets looks at me. ‘Are you sure this is the right decision?’
‘I’m as sure as I can be given that I’ve never been in a situation like this before. I’ve never let you down, have I?’
‘No.’
‘Or allowed you to get hurt?’
‘No.’
‘Then maybe you should trust me.’
‘I’m with Lance,’ Big Mak says. ‘Holing up is only a good idea when all other options have been exhausted. And holing up with Trent sounds worse than being chased by killer activity-centre workers.’
‘I’m coming, too,’ says Katja. ‘I trust Lance. Maybe we can find a way out of here without waiting two more days for the coach to come back.’
‘OK, so Big Mak, Katja, Chets…?’
Chets nods.
‘And me are going. If anyone else wants to come, you can.’
The rest of the class stay standing behind Trent, looking afraid, as they totally should because they’re about to get attacked-slash-murdered by a bunch of psychopaths in matching polo shirts, or turned into human-wasp hybrids.
‘Your funeral,’ I say. Having the safety of my friends on my head is a massive deal, and I don’t know why I’m so sure that I’m doing the right thing. I just feel it.
We turn and start to walk away.
‘Wait!’ a voice calls out. ‘I’m coming with you.’ Adrianne runs to join us.
‘I thought you and Trent were, you know, besties,’ I say.
‘Trent is a jumped-up imbecile,’ she says. ‘I hope he barricades himself into the dining hall so effectively that he can’t get out and I never ever have to see his annoying, smug face again.’
‘Not besties, then,’ I say.
Katja giggles. She has a sweet giggle – it sounds like jingly bells.
‘Just because he’s head boy and I’m head girl, it doesn’t mean we’re anything alike, and it definitely doesn’t mean I have a thing for him.’
‘Hey, I never said anything about a thing.’ I put my hands up as if I’m dealing with a raging lion, which I kind of am because Adrianne is scary.
‘Like I said, THERE IS NO THING!’ She stomps off ahead.
‘Totally glad Ade decided to come with us,’ Big Mak says.
‘Are you sure she’s not one of them?’ Chets whispers, obviously afraid of antagonising the beast.
‘I’m not one of them, Chetan,’ she calls back. ‘I’m just sick of people making assumptions about me.’
6
In the Dark, Dark Woods
So we’ve gone rogue from the rest of the class and I’m happy cos we can be more stealthy as a small group, but I know it also makes us vulnerable.
‘Where are we going?’ Katja says, as we jog through the centre, away from the dorms.
‘We need to find out more about what’s going on,’ I say. ‘So we’re going to where the happenings are happening.’
‘Into the trees!’ Mak whoops.
‘But that’s where the creepy eyes are,’ Chets says. ‘Shouldn’t we be going the opposite way from there? Plus, it’s really late. Maybe we should rest awhile first.’
‘We can’t rest until we know what we’re dealing with. It might not be safe.’ I ignore Chets’ sad sniff. ‘We move quickly and quietly. Keep a lookout for security cameras. As soon as they realise we’ve gone, they’ll start looking for us. There are definitely cameras in the communal areas.’
‘And at the entrance,’ Adrianne says. ‘I think there’s one on every corridor.’
‘What about outside?’ I say.
‘I don’t think so, but we should probably check.’ Adrianne slows down for a second to adjust the straps of her backpack. It looks stuffed full and really heavy.
‘Do you want me to carry that for you?’ Mak says, jogging alongside her.
‘You think because I’m a girl I can’t carry my own backpack?’
‘Just trying to help,’ he says.
‘If you want to help, show me a little respect and don’t treat me like a princess.’
Mak looks a bit hurt.
‘You can treat me like a princess if you like, Big Mak,’ Katja says. ‘I’m happy for you to carry my bag.’
Mak just huffs and runs on.
‘Figures,’ Katja says.
I feel like there’s some weird vibe and a whole thing going on that I don’t get, but now is really not the time to start examining the dynamics between my friends. We reach the side exit, push it open and slip out into the night.
We line up against the wall, hidden in shadow, but knowing we’ll have to get across the lawn and obstacle course, and they’re lit up like your teeth at the dentists.
‘We either go straight across, or the long way around,’ Adrianne says. ‘Straight over will take two minutes. The long way at
least thirty.’
‘So we have to go through. Fast and in silence, on the count of three. One, two…’
‘Wait!’ says Chets. ‘I have a stone in my shoe.’
We watch while Chets fiddles with his laces and slowly, slowly takes his shoe off, tips it upside down (I don’t see a stone fall out) and puts it back on again. Anyone would think he was stalling.
‘’K. One, two…’
I’m bracing myself to run, but the bang of a door shutting thuds through the darkness and we all jump back against the wall, squishing ourselves into the deepest part of the dark.
I hear a couple of click-clacks – a sound I’m very familiar with. I see Hoche walking across a small stretch of path and on to the lawn.
‘She is still wearing her heels,’ Katja says.
She isn’t walking like the bug-eyes walked. There’s no uniformity, no sense of her being spaced out. She’s walking in the way she usually walks, like she’s busy and important and everyone should get out of her way.
‘Can you see her eyes?’ Adrianne whispers.
‘She’s too far away.’
‘A second later and she would have caught us running across the grass,’ Mak says. ‘We’d have been put on reds for the rest of our lives and lost all of our house points.’
‘Lucky I had that stone in my shoe,’ Chets says.
I have to smile.
Hoche disappears into the trees by the river.
‘Is that the way the others went?’ I say.
‘Yep,’ says Adrianne.
‘Then let’s go.’
We leg it across the lawn to the kind of safety of the trees. There is no wind, and no sign of any birds or animals. The only noise is the clinking of the zips on our backpacks. I’ve never known quiet like it.
The moon is bright, and when we reach the woods, we find a person-made path through the undergrowth. It’s clear that many pairs of shoes have walked this way. Well, not pairs of shoes on their own, cos that would be even more insane.
‘Slow and steady now,’ I say. ‘And I suggest we avoid the path. Let’s try to flank them instead.’
‘I know you’re stressed, but you shouldn’t swear,’ Chets says.
‘He means come at them from the side.’ Mak rolls his eyes.
‘Still no need for the bad language.’
We move deeper into the trees and work our way uphill, going back to the path only when we have to use the bridge to cross the river. Being on the path leaves us feeling exposed, but the further into the trees we go, the less the moonlight penetrates, so we stumble about, trying not to fall in the darkness. After a hundred metres or so, I hear distant noises. Not talking, though – banging and scraping.
‘What the hell is that?’ Mak whispers. ‘I wish I’d brought my night-vision goggles.’
‘You have night-vision goggles? Cool,’ I say.
‘Not so cool when you don’t have them on you.’
We edge towards the sound. I expect there to be voices and light, but when we reach the source it’s so unexpected that we almost wander right into the middle of it.
I’m up front, so I swing my arm out to stop the others from moving any further forward.
‘What the heck?’ I say.
We’re standing at the edge of a clearing, next to the river, near the top of the crater. The moonlight allows us a hazy view of what’s going on. There are no floodlights or lanterns, but small beams of unnatural light shine across the area, coming from various bits of kit around the clearing. Far away to our left there is what looks like a generator, humming loudly and lit up by green lights. Other light comes from tools – chainsaws and a small crane. When I say small, I mean it’s not skyscraper high – it’s not even as tall as the trees surrounding us, but it’s still big enough to lift a medium-sized tree trunk. I know this because that’s exactly what it’s doing – lifting a medium-sized tree trunk.
Oh yeah, and the whole area is swarming with people. Because the only light is green and red, everyone looks strange and wrong. It’s like a freaking zombie disco.
‘Can you see the others?’ Katja asks.
‘It’s hard to make anyone out,’ I whisper back. ‘But at least we know what those bug-eyes are good for.’
‘I see Atul and Dennis and Krish,’ Adrianne says. Because apparently, on top of all her other perfections, she can also basically see in the dark.
‘There’s Mr Tomkins – I see his man bun bobbing about under the crane,’ says Katja.
‘I think they’re all there,’ I say, ‘but there are loads of adults – deffo more than just Mr Tomkins and Miss Rani.’
‘It’s all the Crater Lake people,’ Chets says. ‘You can see their white polo shirts. They’re nice actually – I wonder if we can get one at the gift shop.’
‘I don’t think the gift shop’s open, mate,’ says Mak. ‘They look pretty busy here.’
‘It’s a hive of activity,’ I say. ‘But what are they doing?’
We watch for a minute or two. The bug-eyes are working hard and in silence – cutting down trees and moving logs. Some of them are wading in the river, which is wide and deep. They’re wearing what look like wetsuits, which seems a bit excessive cos they’re hardly in the Arctic Ocean. The water comes up to their chests. Then I see a black mass extending into the water from the far bank.
‘What is that?’ I ask, squinting at the dark structure, though I don’t know why, cos squinting isn’t helping me see it any better.
‘They’re building a dam,’ says Mak.
‘Why would they be building a dam?’
‘To hold back the water, of course,’ says Adrianne.
‘Well, that all makes sense, then,’ I say.
‘I’m confused,’ Chets says.
‘I think we all are.’ Katja rubs Chets’ arm.
‘So many questions.’ I back up slightly and drop into a crouch. The others do the same.
‘What are we thinking?’ Big Mak says, pulling what looks like a handful of berries out of his pocket.
‘Where did you get those?’ Chets asks.
‘Foraged them on the trail,’ Mak says, throwing a few in his mouth in the most chilled-out way possible.
‘What if they’re poisonous?’ I hate to sound like a reception kid, but we all know how dangerous it is to pick wild berries. It’s up there with flying a kite near electricity pylons and taking sweets from strangers.
‘They’re not. They’re fine. You want some?’
‘Err, no thanks,’ I say. ‘I think I’ve got some jelly beans in my bag.’
‘Bad idea,’ Mak says. ‘They’re full of refined sugar. You’ll get a peak of energy and then crash. You need to get yourself some slow-release carbs.’
‘Alright, Bear Grylls.’ I have no idea how Mak knows all this stuff, but now’s not the time to ask.
‘What do we do now?’ Katja says. ‘We have more information but it feels like we know less than we did before.’
‘Hoche,’ I say. ‘Where did she go?’ I turn to Adrianne. ‘Can you see her, owl eyes?’
‘Give me a minute to scout around,’ she says and disappears into the bushes like a black mamba.
I catch Big Mak looking at her like she’s his hero.
She’s back really fast and beckoning us to follow her. She leads us into the trees a little, and then round to the highest part of the clearing, next to the river. We move towards the bug-eyes again, but this time on our bellies, crawling like commandos, except it’s not that cool because my elbows are getting scraped and every part of me is itchy. We go slowly and flinch at every snapping twig. At last, Adrianne stops and points.
About ten metres away, I see Hoche and Digger. They’re leaning against what looks like a heater, like they’re trying to warm themselves up. They’re talking loudly – the only voices amongst all those people. We stay as still and quiet as we can, and listen.
‘There are thirty-four workers now,’ Digger tells her. ‘We’re making good progress, but we’re
going to need additional hands for stage two.’
Hoche rubs her hands together – I think to warm them, but it could be that classic villain hand-rubbing like you see in the movies. ‘We’ll have help soon. There are fourteen children asleep in the centre. Once the sporelings awaken we should have thirteen new workers, and a third hunter to help us snare more hosts.’
‘And when we free the other spores, the hive will grow exponentially.’ Digger smiles, which looks all wrong on his big potato face.
‘It’s vital that we keep on track. Time is limited. There can be no delays,’ Hoche says.
‘All potential threats have been dealt with. The centre is in our hands and there is nobody left to stop us. I don’t foresee any obstacles.’
‘And yet the humans can be so unpredictable. We must stay alert and leave nothing to chance. We’ve waited decades for this opportunity – it might never come again.’
The rest of their conversation is drowned out by the sound of a chainsaw cutting through another trunk.
‘Poor tree,’ says Katja.
I signal to the others that we should retreat. We need to talk. We slide back into the woods and then trek down the crater. I look for some cover, so that we can rest without being seen. On the other side of the lake is a wooden pier and boat shed.
The area is deserted and, if a bug-eye were to come, we could escape across the lake. ‘Everyone can swim, right?’ I say. They nod and follow. I open the unlocked door to the boat shed and find it empty. It’s cooler here by the lake and there’s plenty of space for us inside. So finally we stop. I place myself by the door so I’ll be able to see anyone coming our way.
Crater Lake Page 5