Crater Lake

by Jennifer Killick

  ‘What the hell was that?’ Mak says.

  ‘It sounded like Miss Hoche and Digger planning to turn us all into bug-eyed workers while we sleep,’ says Katja.

  ‘So that we can build a dam,’ Chets says.

  ‘Which is somehow going to free other spores.’ Adrianne unzips her backpack and takes out a bottle of water. ‘And, as Miss Hoche referred to all the bug-eyes as sporelings, I expect the spores are what made them…’

  ‘…Bug out,’ I say. ‘But how will building a dam free the spores?’

  Everyone shrugs.

  ‘So, things we know: Hoche is bad; Digger is bad; spores are bad.’

  ‘Ooh – the bug-eyes building the dam – they called them workers,’ says Katja, ‘And the other type of sporelings they mentioned were called hunters.’

  ‘Like Digger and Miss Hoche,’ Chets says.

  ‘And like the wasps,’ Adrianne says. ‘In the documentary, there were two types of wasps, the ones who work and build the nest…’

  ‘And the ones who look for prey and attack them with their venom.’ I swallow a swig of water. ‘And there were the parasitic ones, remember? The ones that use their prey’s body to hatch their babies in?’

  ‘The caterpillar,’ says Chets.

  Even in the darkness, I can tell that everyone is making an ‘ew’ face.

  ‘I hate to focus on the bad bits,’ I say. ‘But Hoche referred to us as humans.’

  ‘Which implies that she isn’t human and nor is Digger,’ says Adrianne.

  We take a moment. I think all of us are trying to get our heads around the impossible situation we’ve found ourselves in.

  ‘So, the question is: if they’re not human, then what the hell are they?’

  7

  Spider Monkey

  My phone tells me it’s almost midnight. I have no reception, no wifi and no 4G, so it’s pretty useless for any kind of communication but it’s handy as a torch, and I like the reassuring feel of it in my pocket.

  Just in case, I text my mum, asking her to send help. I know it’s not going to get through, but it would be stupid not to, right?

  ‘What’s our next move?’ Mak says.

  I’ve been thinking about this. ‘We have to warn the others.’

  ‘Why?’ Mak says. ‘They chose to snuggle up in the dining hall and hope for the best. They could have come with us. They didn’t.’

  ‘But still,’ I say, ‘we have to try – it’s the right thing to do.’

  ‘You know Trent would never do this for you, don’t you?’ says Adrianne.

  ‘I know,’ I say. ‘But, for once, Trent isn’t the enemy. We’re under attack from a non-human, aka alien, force. We have to stick together and, above all else, we must remember what makes us human.’ I say this partly cos it’s in all the alien invasion movies, but also because I’ve always felt compelled to try to keep people safe. It’s my thing. ‘Besides, it’s in every zombie apocalypse story ever – if you act like a jerk and wimp out of helping others, you always come to an especially bad end. Usually with screaming and lots of blood. Maybe some guts splattered across a wall.’

  ‘So we go to the dining hall and knock?’ Katja asks.

  ‘It’s worth a try.’ I zip up my backpack and sling it over my shoulders.

  ‘They might have food in there,’ Chets says. ‘I can get some supplies. For all of us, I mean.’

  ‘Let’s get this over with before Hoche and Digger realise we’re on to them.’ Mak pulls on a baseball cap.

  Adrianne leads the way out of the boat shed and back around the lake towards the centre. We sprint past the main entrance, back round to the fire exit that we used to get out.

  ‘Don’t these doors only open from the inside?’ Katja says.

  ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Which is why I used a fire extinguisher to prop it open when we left.’

  ‘Are you sure this is your first alien invasion?’ Big Mak asks. ‘You’re like a pro.’

  ‘Strategy,’ Chets says, ‘is one of Lance’s best skills.’

  ‘Well,’ I shrug, ‘that and my famous film and TV character impressions.’

  ‘You could have your own TV show,’ says Katja.

  ‘Will you all, please, focus?’ Adrianne says. ‘We need to be quiet. We don’t know if Miss Hoche and Digger are back in the building. We need to stay alert.’

  We tiptoe through the empty corridors. They have those lights that automatically flick on when you get close, so we can see, but it feels like we’re going to be discovered at any moment. When we reach the dining hall, Chets knocks on the door.

  ‘I know we’re trying to be stealthy, Chets, but they actually need to hear the knock. Invisible sound isn’t going to cut it.’

  He knocks again, much louder. We wait.

  ‘Screw this,’ Mak says, and pushes the door. It doesn’t budge. He grabs the handles with both hands and pushes and pulls as hard as he can. ‘Guys?’ he calls. ‘Are you alive in there? We need to speak to you.’ There is a rattling on the other side as he shakes the doors, but no answer. ‘Oh well, we tried,’ he says.

  ‘We need to know if they’re OK,’ says Katja. ‘Is there another way in?’

  ‘Only those windows,’ says Chets. ‘But they’re super high up.’

  ‘Let’s go round the other side and check them out.’

  We sneak out of the building again, and follow it round to the back of the dining hall. I look up at the windows. They are really high. If you stood four large elephants on top of each other (though I don’t know if that’s possible cos, although elephants always stand on balls in cartoons, so I know they’re good at balancing, I don’t know if the bottom one could take the weight of the other three) the top elephant would probably be able to peep into one of the dining-hall windows.

  ‘No way any of us are going to be able to climb up there,’ Mak says.

  ‘I think I can,’ Katja says quietly, almost like she’s ashamed of it, which is ridiculous, cos anyone who could climb even half that high would legit be a savage.

  ‘Are you sure, Katja?’ Chets looks at the wall and then back at Katja.

  ‘If she says she can, then she can,’ Adrianne says. ‘I don’t know why you would doubt her. Is it because she’s a…?’

  ‘Human person and not Spiderman?’ I say. ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘I’ll give it a try,’ Katja says. ‘Don’t all stare at me, though. You’ll put me off.’

  ‘We won’t stare,’ Chets says, and then we all stare as she grabs hold of a pipe and starts climbing up the wall like a flipping monkey.

  ‘My mistake,’ I say. ‘She is Spiderman.’

  Katja makes it to the window. The light from inside illuminates her face, making her look like a golden, wall-climbing angel. She has her elbow hooked around the pipe and her toes balancing on a piece of metal screwed into the wall. It’s only about twenty-centimetres long, and not the one thing I’d like standing between me and certain death, but she seems pretty chill about it. She uses her other hand to push at the window. It doesn’t budge. She raps on it, as hard as she can without losing her balance, then grabs on to the pipe again and clambers down. When she reaches the ground I hear everyone make a ‘phew’ sound with their mouths.

  ‘They’re in there,’ she says, slightly out of breath. ‘They’re playing cards and chatting in groups. And listening to music, I think.’

  ‘Did they see you, or hear you?’ I ask.

  ‘No. They were all mucking around, so I think it was quite noisy.’

  ‘They must have a lookout, though?’ I say.

  She shakes her head.

  ‘Idiots,’ says Mak. Which is basically what we’re all thinking.

  ‘Are any of them asleep?’ I ask.

  ‘It didn’t look like it,’ she says. ‘Some of them have sleeping bags laid out on the floor, but nobody was lying down.’

  ‘Then it isn’t too late for them.’ I push my hair back with my hand, trying to think for a moment. ‘Look, we don’t know
how the spores are getting inside people, but we know they turn bug-eyed when they fall asleep. If one of that lot falls asleep in there, all of them could be in danger.’

  ‘But the bug-eyes don’t seem that dangerous,’ Chets says.

  ‘The worker bugs don’t, but the hunter bugs will be,’ I say. ‘What if one of them wakes up as a hunter?’

  ‘I think we also need to consider that a lot of their behaviour has been wasp-like so far,’ says Adrianne. ‘And even worker wasps will sting if one of the nest is attacked. They release a pheromone or something, and it puts all the others in defensive mode.’

  ‘Are you saying they’re alien-wasp people?’ says Chets.

  ‘I’m saying we don’t know what they are.’ Adrianne has her hands on her hips. ‘So we have to consider all options. I don’t think we should antagonise any of them.’

  ‘So how can we get a message to the others?’ Katja says.

  ‘There’s the tannoy system,’ says Chets.

  ‘But everyone will hear it. Hoche will know we’re on to her.’ Big Mak is leaning against the wall, eating what look like bird seeds.

  ‘And she’ll know exactly where to find us if we get to the tannoy microphone to give them the message,’ I say.

  ‘So we make the message quick, and then run,’ Adrianne says. ‘Hide somewhere.’

  ‘We need a place they won’t think of,’ says Katja. ‘Or somewhere they wouldn’t want to go.’

  ‘That’s it,’ I say. ‘The cold – they don’t like the cold. They keep everything hot in the building. They had that heater out by the dam. Digger almost fainted when pre-bug Hoche asked for some cold drinks. He made us hot soup for dinner in this heat, for flip’s sake!’

  ‘But this whole place is like an oven,’ says Katja.

  ‘There must be a fridge,’ says Mak. ‘They must have a giant fridge to keep the milk and stuff in.’

  ‘And where would the tannoy mic be?’ I say.

  ‘It can only be in the admin office,’ says Adrianne. ‘I saw it on the map, so I can get us there.’

  ‘Awesome,’ I say. I love having a plan. ‘So, office, then fridge.’

  ‘I’m not sure it’s a perfect plan,’ says Chets.

  ‘It’s far from perfect,’ I say. ‘But it’s all we’ve got. And we’re going to give it a try either way, right?’

  ‘Right,’ everyone says. And we slink back into the centre.

  8

  The New Rules

  As we make our way through the building, stopping at every corner to peek into the next corridor, listening at every door before we open it, and finding the whole place abandoned, I feel a sort of calm contentment. The situation is laid out before me – a series of puzzles and problems to solve. We face one obstacle at a time. We either overcome it, or we don’t. I don’t have to worry about multiplying frac­tions, or using subordinate clauses. The only thing I have to worry about is getting past the next challenge.

  It’s so quiet and so still, but I know this is the calm before the poo-storm. As soon as we use the tannoy system, they’ll be after us. We’ll be hunted.

  We reach the admin area and push open the door. There is a main office – a large space with two desks and chairs and shelves full of files. A door on the right leads to a meeting room. A door at the back leads to another, smaller office and we can see inside it cos there’s a glass panel.

  ‘There’s a phone,’ I say.

  ‘Phones are no good, though – there’s no reception.’ Chets’ breath fogs up the glass.

  ‘Not a phone phone,’ I say. ‘One of those ones from the olden days that my nan has. A landline.’

  Big Mak wipes the condensation from the glass and looks in. ‘Those phones don’t need reception – they work from wires.’

  ‘So we could call for help?’ Katja says.

  Chets grabs the door handle. ‘We could call for help!’ He yanks it down and pushes on the door, but it doesn’t move.

  ‘What is it with this place and locked doors?’ I ask, although I’m secretly pleased because part of me doesn’t want to ask for help. Part of me wants to fix this by myself, just to see if I can. Just to prove I can.

  ‘OK. Adrianne – look for keys. Mak – see if there’s any possibility of breaking it down. Chets – turn on those computers and see if there’s any way of logging in without a password. Katja – look for anything else useful. I’ll look for the tannoy system.’ I’m really hoping it’s not behind that locked door, cos I don’t think we’re going to be able to get in there.

  Everyone gets to work. No talk, just rummaging and mouse clicking and door examining. I glance around the room. I don’t know what I’m looking for but I feel like I’ll know it when I see it. In one corner, screwed to the wall, is a black box with a bunch of buttons on it. I look at it carefully. I want to make sure I’m going to get this right before I commit myself to pushing a button. Once I do that, all hell is going to break loose.

  ‘Is it complicated?’ Katja comes over and stands with me.

  ‘Well, there’s a button that says “push and hold to talk”, and a speakery-looking part that says “speak clearly into microphone”. So I guess not.’

  ‘Who’s making the announcement?’ she says.

  ‘Ooh, can I do it?’ Adrianne gives up her search for keys and joins us at the black box of destiny.

  ‘I want to!’ Chets pushes back his wheelie chair.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be trying to crack some passwords?’ I ask.

  ‘I’ve tried all the obvious ones – Password, 1234, Crater Lake, I am an evil alien, my eyes are weird, etcetera. Nothing works.’

  ‘And nothing’s going to break down that door,’ says Mak, joining us. ‘Except some explosives or a wrecking ball.’

  ‘Did anyone dibs it earlier?’ One of the nicest things about Katja is that she always tries to be fair.

  ‘Nobody dibsed it. Shall we Geek, Robot, Overlord for it?’ Chets says.

  ‘Honestly, guys, it’s only a tannoy system,’ says Adrianne. ‘I don’t know why you’re all so desperate to use it. Besides – I’m head girl, so it really should be me.’

  ‘Right, let’s get a quick drink of water and think this through.’ I go over to a water cooler by the window. It’s set to ‘ambient temperature’ whatever the hell that means. I pour myself a cup and knock it back. ‘Apparently, ambient means unpleasantly warm,’ I say, thinking longingly of the fridge. ‘Let’s write down what we’re going to say, plan our route to the kitchen and take it from there.’

  A few minutes later and we’re ready to go. We stand around the black box, and on my nod, Big Mak pushes the button.

  ‘Attention, pupils of Montmorency School,’ he says. ‘This is Maksym talking to you live from Crater Lake.’

  ‘For everyone hiding from Digger and Miss Hoche – it’s really important that you listen to the following message.’ Katja takes her finger off the button, then quickly puts it back – ‘Love Katja.’

  ‘Many classmates scraped their knees and risked their lives to bring you this information.’ I say. ‘We have learnt that Digger and Hoche have become part of some alien race and their job is to hunt us down and turn us into the bug-eyes you saw earlier.’

  ‘They’re planning something – the extent of which we don’t yet know.’ Adrianne’s ponytail swings as she talks. ‘But we will make it our mission to find out. In the meantime, you must follow these new Crater Lake rules.’

  ‘Don’t go anywhere with a member of staff,’ says Chets. ‘They are all your enemies.’

  ‘Don’t follow any instructions they give you. I repeat, do not do as you’re told. Mak out.’

  ‘And, most importantly,’ says Adrianne. ‘Do not fall asleep. If one of the group falls asleep, evacuate them from your secure area. Don’t try to keep them with you or they will attack you. Just let them go – they’re already lost.’

  ‘We know people only turn when they’re sleeping but we don’t know exactly how,’ I say. ‘So keep eac
h other awake, and hang tight – we’re working on a plan to get us out of here.’

  ‘Good luck, everyone,’ Katja says.

  ‘And remember…’ I hold down the button as we all shout into the mic, ‘…DON’T FALL ASLEEP!’

  We’re at the office door before the speakers stop reverberating, running down the corridor as fast as we can.

  9

  Dale’s Stash

  The kitchen is at the centre of the building, but down a flight of stairs like my room was, as though it’s in the basement.

  I hold the door while everyone piles in and take one last look behind us before I pull it quietly closed.

  ‘Food!’ says Chets, gleefully grabbing a baguette and some apples from a counter.

  ‘Weapons!’ Mak whoops, grabbing a rolling pin, a frying pan and a potato masher.

  The rest of us do a perimeter of the room to find the fridge. At the very back, down another set of steps, is a huge metal door.

  ‘This must be it,’ I say. ‘I hope it’s not full of dead bodies.’ Then, ‘Joke!’ when I see Katja and Adrianne’s horrified faces. ‘It would be a waste of good alien hosts to kill people.’ I pull the handle and heave the door open. The cold instantly blasts me in the face. It feels so good that I don’t even care about the horrid smell of cold meat.