Pulse
Bex
“Medic!”
I’m screaming as I drag Will away from his daughter, and lift her head into my lap. I tear off my gloves and check her pulse. It’s weak, but she’s still with me.
“Medic!”
There are soldiers helping Dan and Margie to stand, leading them through the curtains at the back of the stage. There are soldiers crowding round me, filling the platform.
And there’s more blood on her jumpsuit. There’s a ragged hole in one leg, just below the knee, and another on her arm.
I feel as if I’m watching someone come apart in front of me.
I shout again, feeling the tears on my cheeks.
There’s shouting, and there are voices on the radio, but no one’s listening to me.
I can’t tell whether we’ve won or lost. I can’t see Charlie or Amy or Maz.
All I can think about is losing Dr Richards in the yard at Makepeace Farm. Feeling her slip out of my grip as she ran to help Margie.
I don’t want to lose her again.
Trapped
Ketty
I need to find a way out. I don’t know who’s in control here.
I don’t know who’s in control of the country.
There are soldiers on the stage. If they’re Home Forces, they’ll execute me for shooting Lee. If they’re the invasion, they’ll be hunting the Home Forces.
I need to get out of here without being seen.
King
Bex
Dan and Margie disappear behind the curtains.
I want to follow them. I want to get off the stage. I want to walk away.
I want to get far away and forget that this ever happened.
But Dr Richards needs me.
Someone puts a hand on my shoulder, and they’re pointing to the back of the stage. I can’t hear them over the noise from the crowd and the hammering sound of my own heartbeat. I don’t know whether they’re helping, or arresting me.
I shake my head.
There’s a noise like a explosion from the speakers, and the soldier looks up in surprise. He crouches next to me and draws his gun, looking around, one hand protectively on my arm.
And then the King’s voice booms out over the crowd. The shouting dies away, the crowd falls silent, and the King starts to speak.
And I know we’ve won.
Speech
Ketty
The speaker stacks let out a deafening squeal, and I turn back.
The image on the screens skips and changes, and it’s the King, standing in the conference room. Standing in front of Bex’s cameras. Holding up his hands to calm the crowd.
A murmur moves through the people watching, as the King begins to speak.
“People of the United Kingdom,” he begins. “Whether you are part of the crowds in London, or whether you’re watching from home, please remain calm.
“I’m not the first intruder on your screens today. A few minutes ago, you heard a speech from a brave young woman – a woman who asked you to join with her, and with the resistance, to save your country. She’s a tough act to follow,” there’s scattered laughter from the crowd, “but I’m here to ask you to join her.”
Bex has the support of the King?
“She’s right. This world is ending. I’m asking you all to join together to build a new world – a new country. A new United Kingdom. To banish fear, and hate. To win back your rights and freedoms.”
And then I know it’s over. I don’t need to hear the rest of the King’s speech – the fact that he’s quoting Bex is enough. Martial Law. The Home Forces. Franks, Bracken, Lee. The whole structure is toppling. We’re not going back to false flags and conscription and child soldiers.
It’s my world that’s ending, not just Bracken’s, and I need to make sure I don’t go down with it.
Bad situations don’t have to end badly.
Use the confusion, Ketty. Find a way out.
Medics
Bex
The soldier points again to the back of the stage, and leans over to shout in my ear.
“There’s an ambulance coming.” He looks down at my patient. “Do you want to stay with her?”
I nod.
The soldier stands up, and clears a path for the medics as they push through the curtains onto the stage. Someone pulls me away, and Dr Richards is surrounded by figures in camouflage. I watch, helpless and shaking as they cut away her jumpsuit to expose the wounds.
And I glance over at Will, his eyes closed, his body crumpled on the stage.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’m kneeling next to him.
There’s blood, everywhere. He’s not moving. He’s not breathing.
I think about the conference room. About lifting my gun.
About calling him a coward.
I take his hand.
“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can think of to say.
He proved me wrong. He’s not a coward. He’s just done the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.
He’s just sacrificed himself for his daughter.
“Ellman! Are you hurt?” One of the medics is in front of me as I stand up, staring into my eyes as the King’s voice echoes around us.
I shake my head, and she nods, eyeing the cracks and scratches on my armour. My hands, red with Will’s blood.
There’s laughter from the crowd, and the medic raises an eyebrow.
The King is talking about me.
Disguise
Ketty
The speech ends. The crowd cheers, and starts chanting again.
Bex’s name, over and over.
And I know what I need to do.
Stay calm. Find Bex. Offer her your support. Get yourself out of here alive.
There’s an ambulance in the walkway at the edge of the crowd, moving towards the side of the stage. The people around me are pushing forwards, straining to see what’s happening on the platform. It’s impossible to move in the crush.
I look up at the soldiers on the stage. At their images on the screens. Medics, kneeling round the prisoners.
The Medics are dressed like me, in camouflage fatigues.
I could blend in. I could get to Bex.
I need to get to the ambulance.
I think about the South Bank bomb. Running stretchers and bandages and medical kits to the people treating the injured.
If I can reach the edge of the crowd, I can jump the barriers. I can follow the medics and make myself useful.
I can find a way out.
Stretcher
Bex
The medics are lifting Dr Richards onto a stretcher. I pick up my rifle and helmet, and follow them as they carry her through the curtains at the back of the stage. I wait while they negotiate the steps, and then follow them down, through the dark backstage area and out into the courtyard.
I’m bracing myself to push with them through the crowd, but when we step out into the daylight the courtyard is empty. The barriers behind the stage have been pushed away. There are soldiers in camouflage guarding the archway and the walkways, but the people who were here earlier have gone.
The ambulance is waiting. A couple of medics run towards us, taking the stretcher and carrying it while the others walk alongside, making sure the bandages are holding.
I walk behind, and as they lift her into the ambulance, I realise there’s nothing more I can do.
Ambulance
Ketty
Moving sideways through the crowd is easier than pushing backwards, and I make it to the barrier while the ambulance is still in front of the stage. I pull myself up on my arms, and throw one leg over the top of the fence, letting myself drop carefully on the far side.
My knee protests, but I make myself ignore the pain, and take off running towards the stage.
I reach the ambulance as it drives through the checkpoint, and I walk confidently alongside it, as if I’m supposed to be there. The guard waves me through. The second checkpoint is the same, and I’m i
n the courtyard again.
And there’s no one here.
I look around, staying close to the ambulance. The crowds have gone – evacuated, or arrested. It’s going to be hard to stay hidden out here.
Make yourself useful, Ketty. Make yourself invisible.
The ambulance pulls up, and someone opens the back doors. I stand outside, waiting to help.
A group of soldiers walks out from the black curtains, and I make myself stand still. They have no reason to suspect that I shouldn’t be here. I glance over, and I notice that they’re escorting someone.
Margaret Watson, in her execution jumpsuit, and Dan Pearce in full armour.
I duck behind the open doors, and wait for Bex.
*****
There’s a shout from behind the stage. Someone calling for help with a stretcher.
I step away from the ambulance and look around. Dan and Margaret are standing together, with eyes for no one but each other. A medic jumps out of the back doors, and I follow as he jogs to the back of the stage. We take the stretcher and walk with it while the medics check the patient.
It’s Sheena Richards, her jumpsuit cut and torn. Bullet wounds padded with bandages.
And behind her is Bex, her armour pitted and cracked. I duck my head and make sure she can’t see me.
Keep walking Ketty. Almost there.
Together
Bex
My knees buckle. I’m falling, until someone catches my elbow and hauls me to my feet.
“You OK, Rugrat?”
“Maz!” I drop my gun and my helmet and throw my arms round his neck. “You’re OK?”
He grins. “I’m fine.” He steps back and looks at my armour. “You’re looking a bit dented, though. You’re sure you’re alright?”
I nod.
There’s a shout from the ambulance, and I look up to see Margie, reaching out as the medics close the doors. Dan holds her back, whispering something to her, and she slumps against him. Someone’s taken off her handcuffs.
They’re sitting on the ground by the time I reach them. Margie sobbing, and Dan with his arms around her.
I sit down beside them as the ambulance pulls away, blue lights flashing.
“I’m sorry, Margie. I’m so sorry.”
She looks up at me and nods. “Is she …?”
“She’s breathing. She’s hurt, but she’s alive.”
“And Will?”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry.”
She nods again, eyes closed.
Dan’s face is white, and he doesn’t speak as he reaches one arm out to me. I lean my head against his shoulder and close my eyes. I want to forget. I want to leave this all behind, but all I can see is Will, taking the bullets that were meant for his daughter, his white shirt turning red as he sheltered her from the guns.
When I open my eyes, Charlie is sitting next to me, and Amy is standing with Maz, watching us.
Charlie nudges me. “Good job, Bex. I think you took down the firing squad single-handed.”
“And the soldiers by the stage?”
She looks up at Amy and Maz. “We took care of them. Group effort.” She smiles at me.
“They’ll be playing that clip on TV forever.” Maz is shaking his head. “You, Dan, the firing squad. You’re even more famous than you were before.”
Backstage
Ketty
I lift Sheena into the ambulance and step back as one of the medics climbs in, and someone closes the doors.
There’s a shout from behind me, and Margaret is standing, touching distance from my shoulder. I step away, covering my face with one hand as I step behind the vehicle.
The other medics are walking back towards the stage, so I follow, keeping my face hidden as the ambulance drives away. We head through the curtains, and as they walk back up the steps to the platform I hang back, losing them in the backstage darkness.
There’s no one here. I’m expecting to see the technicians, or someone from PIN, or Conrad.
But they’ve gone.
The coalition is in control, here. They must have been arrested.
Or shot.
There’s an icy feeling in my spine as I look around.
Don’t think about it. Get yourself out.
I step back to the gap in the curtains, and watch the gathering outside.
Deal
Bex
Dan tightens his arm around me. “Thanks, Bex. We couldn’t have done this without you. Famous together?”
He’s smiling, but I’m already pushing him away and standing up, suddenly sick of all of this.
“Bex?” There’s a chorus of concerned voices as I turn my back on the group and walk away.
I’m not ready to stop and smile about what we’ve done. I’m not finished. There’s more to do.
Half way to the barrier, there’s another voice calling my name. I turn round to shout, to tell them to back off and leave me alone, and I realise it’s Ketty. The name tag’s gone from her uniform, and there are livid purple bruises on her neck, but she’s here, and she’s not pointing a gun at me.
“Ellman,” she says, in her recruit-intimidating voice, and then her face softens. “Bex. I need your help.”
There’s something wrong with her voice, as if she’s talking through gravel, or sandpaper. I stare at her, trying to make the words make sense. “You need my help?” I repeat, my voice flat. She nods, slowly.
The sound of her gun plays in my head. The committee member, choking as first her bullet, then mine, slammed into his chest.
I don’t know why I saved her. I don’t know why I didn’t shoot her at the top of the stairs.
I should have hurt her, while I had the chance. I should have hurt her, the way she’s been hurting Mum. The way she hurt Dad, leaving him to die alone.
She watches me, waiting for me to react.
“I helped you. I got you out of the committee room.” My throat is tight, and I have to make myself speak up. I lift a hand to stop her interrupting. “You saved my life, I saved yours. Why are you still here?”
She clenches her fists, and I take a step back, but she pushes her hands down to her sides.
“Bex, listen. I’m Bracken’s assistant. Colonel Bracken, who you named and shamed in your speech.” She waves a hand at the backs of the screens. “They’re going to be looking for me.”
I stare harder, and put all the anger I’m feeling behind my voice. “So what?” I spit the words at her, and spin on my heel, walking away. Putting space between her and me. Between me and everyone.
“Bex!”
I keep walking. I can hear her footsteps behind me, but I don’t stop.
“I know where your mother is.”
And I’m turning round and swinging my fist before I can stop myself.
She deflects the blow from her face, but lets it land in front of her shoulder. My knuckles meet her collarbone with a satisfying crack, and she steps backwards in surprise. My fist explodes with pain, but it doesn’t stop me raising the other hand and swinging again.
This time she stops me, grabbing my fist out of the air and holding my arm still.
“I can take you to her.” I pull my arm out of her grip and square up in front of her. She stands her ground.
“I can take you to your mother, but I want your protection.”
So that’s it. Get her out of a life sentence or a firing squad for choosing the wrong side, and I get to see Mum.
“You want me to protect you? You want me to dig you out of this hole so you can – what? Take up torturing children again for a living? Lock someone else up and interrogate them for kicks?”
She pulls herself up straight, hands out in front of her, warding me off.
“Fine. I’ll do it myself. I’ll find my own way out.” She shakes her head. “But after today, I’m guessing I’m the only free person who knows where your mother is.”
And she starts to walk away.
I kick the floor in frustration, and I’m screami
ng before I know what I’m doing. She turns back.
“Do we have a deal?”
I look over her shoulder. There are figures in black running towards us.
Dan. Amy. Maz.
She follows my gaze, and slowly lifts her hands in the air. Dan has his gun drawn, and he brings it up to point at her chest.
She looks back at me and smirks.
“You’re going to let him kill me? You’re going to lose your mother to get revenge on me?” There’s a swagger in her step as she turns away from Dan. “Come on, Bex. I’m worth more to you than that. You need me alive.”
Bargain
Ketty
Bex shakes her head at Dan and he drops his aim, lowering his gun to his side.
I nod, keeping my hands where he can see them. He steps towards me and pats me down, lifting my shirt to take the gun from its holster on my belt.
“Is that it, Ketty? Is that all you’ve got?” Bex stands with her hands on her hips, shouting at me.
“That’s it.”
“She’s clean, Bex. There’s nothing else.” Dan clips my gun to the belt of his armour.
“So? Where is she? Where’s Mum?”
I smile. “Can you get a car?”
Bex stands for a moment, then starts running. Amy runs after her and I follow at a walk with Dan.
She stops to speak to Margaret and Charlotte, and pick up her rifle and helmet. There’s some shouting and handwaving, and she walks away again as we reach her.
“Bex!” Charlotte calls after her. “We’re supposed to wait here. They said the King wants to speak to us!”
But she doesn’t stop. “The King can wait,” she calls over her shoulder as she marches through the archway and out onto Whitehall. Charlotte helps Margaret to her feet, and they take off after her at a run.
Victory Day (Battle Ground YA UK Dystopia Series Book 5) Page 9