The Wilderness

by C. J. Harper

  Ven is oblivious to my stare. He leads me across a stretch of concrete and into the old ambulance garages.

  ‘Are we going in an ambulance?’

  ‘No.’ He points behind the rusting ambulance. ‘We’re going in this.’

  I don’t know much about cars, but this is a seriously flashy-looking vehicle. It’s black and low to the ground.

  ‘Get in,’ Ven says.

  At the Learning Community we had a bus and occasionally they’d take us out for trips – museums and galleries mostly. On public holidays like The Leader’s birthday we might go to a park or beauty spot. The bus seats were upholstered in some prickly stuff like carpet. The seats in this car are smooth and soft and caramel-coloured.

  Ven reverses out of the garage. I don’t want to show it, but I’m impressed by his driving. He pulls around the hospital and once we’re on the main road he accelerates away. I grip the side of the seat. I’ve never travelled so fast.

  ‘You’re awfully quiet, Leadership,’ Ven says eventually.

  ‘If you really think I’m from the Leadership why are you doing this? I could lead you right into a trap.’

  ‘It’s nice that you’re using your razor-sharp mind to think of me, but I had arrived at that conclusion myself.’

  ‘So you trust me then?’

  ‘No. I’m going to trust the only thing I’ve seen of you that I can believe.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘You’ve got it bad for that girl.’

  ‘What if I have?’

  ‘I’m sure that you’d do anything to keep her safe, so I’ll just let you know that her safety and my safety are now inextricably linked.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘If I’m not back by nightfall, Alrye is under orders to kill her.’

  I stare at Ven. He can’t really have the authority to have anyone killed, can he? One thing is clear: I’ve got to get back to Kay as soon as possible. I remember Ven’s expression when he was pointing a gun at my head. There’s no way I’m going to be able to convince him to take me back and just let us go. I’m going to have to make him understand that we’re not a threat. I need to gain his trust, establish a relationship with him. I struggle for a conversation topic.

  ‘Can many people in the Resistance drive?’ I ask.

  ‘Yep. We all drive.’

  ‘All the adults?’

  ‘All everybody.’

  ‘The kids too?’

  ‘Soon as they’re big enough to see over the wheel.’

  ‘Isn’t that dangerous?’

  Ven barks a laugh. ‘They’re in danger every minute of every day. And not from driving on empty roads. They need to be able to drive, in case of emergencies. And we’ve got a hell of a lot of emergencies just waiting to happen.’

  I can’t think of anything helpful to say so we don’t speak for a while. I watch the sun coming up over the ruin-strewn Wilderness. Sometimes bomb damage has left roads blocked with piles of rubble. But Ven has clearly made this journey before; he always knows a way through even if it involves driving straight across a park. We drive under a flyover bridge with a hole blown through its middle. Ven steers expertly around the chunks of fallen concrete. I thought I was getting used to seeing the destruction caused by bombs, but I’m shocked to see such a massive strong structure in pieces. The slabs of concrete are so large that I can’t comprehend the sheer force that must have been involved to blow them out of the bridge. Imagine your district being shaken by blasts that powerful every night.

  As we’re passing through another destroyed town, I ask Ven a question that’s been scraping away at my insides. ‘How are we going to get back to the other side?’ I can’t bear the thought of going back underground.

  Ven turns to look at me with what seems to be a combination of irritation and disgust.

  ‘I mean, I’m sure you know what you’re doing,’ I gabble. ‘It’s just that we came in a cable duct and that filled up with water – and I was thinking about those patrols that the guards do along the fence . . .’ I trail off.

  ‘I know the timings of the patrols,’ he says. ‘And I know how to get to the other side without drowning.’

  I remember the feeling of the walls of the tunnel constricting around me; I dig my nails into my palm and try to block out all thoughts of suffocating.

  It doesn’t work.

  By the time the distinctive outline of the border fence comes into view on the horizon I’m light-headed with dread. I can see on the dashboard computer screen that we’ve travelled almost seventy miles. Ven has driven so fast that it has taken us less than an hour.

  Ven stops in the remains of a street of shops and leads me into a collapsed shop. We have to crawl through a broken window and under a slanting steel beam. My shirt is stuck to my back with sweat. I suck in air. Ven’s done this before and he’s still here. It has to be safe. The shop seems to have sold appliances and, as we scramble under the caved-in ceiling, I see a collapsed shelf of kitchen gadgets in old-fashioned packaging and a row of ancient-looking washing machines. When we reach a doorway with steps leading down to a basement, it’s a relief to be able to stand up again, but all hopes I had of avoiding going back underground die.

  The basement is dank and crammed with mouldering boxes. My heart is beating so hard that my chest aches. I mustn’t let Ven know I am afraid. We’re going to find Janna and the password and then I can get back to Kay and make sure that she’s okay. The fact that I’m a miserable coward afraid of small spaces is not going to stop me.

  Beyond the rows of dead stock Ven opens a cupboard door. Inside the cupboard is the entrance to a tunnel. I let out my breath as quietly as I can when I see that it’s big enough to walk upright in. Ven hands me a torch and I grip it hard as we make our way into the chill damp of the tunnel. I steel myself not to ask how far we have to go. I put one foot in front of the other. I don’t look up to imagine cracks in the ceiling and I don’t let my shaking legs break into a run. I am still afraid, but I am holding my fear instead of it holding me. We reach another door and I’ve done it.

  We’re in the basement of a house. The tunnel entrance is concealed behind a false wall. Ven moves it to the side and we tiptoe upstairs. We climb out through a back window and into an overgrown garden.

  I’m thankful to be in the open air. ‘Do the people who live here know about the tunnel?’ I ask.

  Ven looks at me. ‘It would take a special kind of stupid to not realise that you had a tunnel to the Wilderness in your basement. And since this place isn’t inhabited by any relative of yours, yes, they know.’

  As Ven closes the garden gate behind him I notice that the Resistance symbol is scratched into the paintwork beside the latch.

  ‘Isn’t it a bit dangerous having that there where anyone can see it?’ I ask.

  He narrows his eyes. ‘How do you know about our symbol?’

  ‘Paulo told me. And anyway, it’s all over the hospital, I could hardly have missed it.’

  Ven is already striding away.

  I look at the gate again; I suppose that there are a lot of other scratches too. When I step away from the gate the symbol isn’t so obvious.

  We leave the residential area and take the metro. Our carriage is almost empty except for a few morning shoppers. I’m surprised when Ven swipes the reader with travel cards for both of us. I resist the urge to ask where he got them from because I know that he’ll just give me a smart answer. But I am starting to think the Resistance might be better organised than I first thought. My heart starts to beat a little faster when I think about how they could help me stage a coup. How I could come face to face with The Leader and punish him for everything that he’s done. I realise that I’m gripping the edge of my seat hard. I try to concentrate on reading a poster opposite me. I mustn’t get ahead of myself. I need to get Ven on side and make sure Kay is safe first.

  Janna’s office is in the media sector of my old district. The train speeds across the district, passing so close to my
Learning Community that I can almost see in the windows. What are they doing there now? What if I was still there? I feel an ache for something that’s gone that I will never be able to get back again.

  ‘That’s my old school,’ I say, almost to myself.

  Ven looks out the window then back at me. ‘That explains why you’re all misty-eyed. Nothing like returning to the site of your childhood indoctrination of hate and bigotry to make you feel nostalgic.’

  My jaw tightens. ‘I’m not saying I want to go back. I know now that they taught us lies. But it was my home for most of my life.’

  ‘Mmm, touching,’ Ven says. ‘Moving away from your continued self-obsession, what exactly did they teach you?’

  I don’t know if this is some sort of test. I don’t know if Ven already knows what goes on in a Learning Community, but I’m trying to establish myself as trustworthy in his eyes so I tell him everything he wants to know about our school curriculum. He stares out the window while I tell him about the scientific research we conducted, but he sits up when I mention Future Leaders. ‘Why do you think they taught you all that stuff about battle tactics and strategy?’

  He obviously has his own ideas. ‘They suggested that every good member of a government should be prepared for the most extreme eventualities.’

  Ven says nothing. Does he think the Leadership are preparing for war?

  ‘Was it just theory, these “how to be a general” classes?’

  ‘No, we had weapons practice – nothing was real, just simulation stuff: guns, explosives—’

  ‘You know how to make a bomb?’

  ‘Well, in theory I do. I’m more of a book learner.’

  Ven gives me that appraising look again. Have I convinced him that we’re on his side yet?

  We get off at the next stop and get into a lift by ourselves.

  ‘Are we going to put the guard uniforms on?’ I ask.

  ‘Not yet.’

  So Ven strolls down the street and into the newspaper building just as he is. I follow, trying to imitate his nonchalance. There’s a reception desk inside the front door, but the receptionist is busy with two men in suits. Behind them a woman is waiting. Ven takes it all in without stopping. He keeps walking towards the stairs. I stick right behind him. Nobody says anything to us.

  The journalists’ office is on the third floor. When we reach the landing, Ven throws open a glass door and strides up to the nearest desk. There’s an older woman with greying hair sat there.

  ‘We’re looking for Janna,’ Ven says.

  The woman looks up sharply. ‘There’s nobody working here called that.’ She looks back to her computer.

  Ven shoots an eyebrow up and moves to a man’s desk in the centre of the room. I tail behind him.

  ‘Can you tell me where I can find Janna?’ he asks. This time the effect of her name ripples out to the surrounding desks. The typing and the chatter stop abruptly. ‘I don’t know anyone called Janna,’ the man says.

  ‘She works here,’ I say. ‘Or at least she did.’

  ‘Nobody of that name has ever worked here,’ he says. A loop of fear tightens around my throat. He sounds like Facilitator Johnson did when he claimed never to have seen me before.

  ‘What about you?’ Ven says, looking at the woman at the next desk who is staring at him. ‘Do you know her?’

  ‘Never heard of her,’ she says.

  They’ve done something to Janna. No wonder she didn’t come to the warehouse like she was supposed to. I bet they’ve made her disappear, just like they did with me.

  ‘We should go,’ I say to Ven in a low voice.

  ‘What’s going on here?’ a voice behind me says. I spin round.

  It’s Ty.

  For a split second I’m pleased. He’s the one that told us about the Resistance; he can help us. I expect him to take us to a private room or to tell us to meet him outside, but then I realise that he’s terrified. Something bad has happened. He makes his eyes blank. ‘We’ve got a busy newsroom here,’ he says. ‘I’m going to need you two to leave.’

  I look between Ty and Ven, but if they recognise each other they’re doing an excellent job of hiding it.

  I almost appeal to Ty, but I know that he will pretend not to know me because he is afraid. I don’t want to do anything to get him into trouble. And I’m afraid too. Are we being watched?

  ‘We just—’ Ven begins, but Ty is walking away towards a security man.

  ‘You heard what he said. Get out,’ says the woman with greying hair.

  Ven turns on her and I know that he’s about to launch into a caustic rant. I tug his sleeve. ‘Come on.’

  Before he can respond, the security man comes over and takes us by the shoulders. He propels us towards the door. I expect aggression, but he says, ‘Come on lads,’ in a not-unfriendly tone, ‘no point in sticking around here. Like the man said, we’ve got no security jobs going here.’

  ‘But we—’

  ‘Take a tip. It’s no good pitching up on doorsteps just asking for work. You’ve got to go through an agency.’

  ‘Er, thanks,’ I say. ‘Could I just ask—?’

  ‘Better shift it. He told me to get rid of you before the editor sees you. He said try the factory. Now clear off.’

  ‘The factory?’

  ‘He . . .’ the guard gestures backwards with his head to where Ty is hunched over a desk. His concentrated stillness makes me think that he’s listening to every word of this. ‘He said get rid of them two and tell them there might be work going at the factory.’

  ‘We want to see—’

  ‘No, it’s fine,’ I interrupt Ven. ‘We’ll do as you suggest.’ I walk through the door as fast as I can, pulling my collar up as I hurry down the stairs.

  There’s a pause before I hear Ven’s footsteps join mine. Outside I don’t speak until we’re well away from the building.

  ‘What was all that?’ Ven asks.

  ‘That was the guy I told you about. Ty, Janna’s boyfriend – the one who said he knew the Resistance. I thought you’d know him.’

  ‘I haven’t actually shaken the hand of every person who sympathises with the cause. He certainly turned pale when he saw you.’

  ‘He was afraid of something,’ I say. ‘He didn’t want to see me.’

  ‘I can understand that, but it’s not a reason to run away.’

  ‘No, I suppose if you respected the wishes of everyone who didn’t want to see you, you’d never speak to anyone again.’

  He doesn’t seem to mind the jibe. He just says, ‘That sounds peaceful.’

  ‘What I mean is that they were denying all knowledge of Janna. And Ty, who was the one who suggested we go to the Resistance in the first place, didn’t even want to acknowledge me. He was obviously frightened. I didn’t think we were safe in there.’

  Ven’s eye’s snap back to me. ‘If you’ve led me into a trap—’

  ‘I don’t want anyone from the Leadership turning up any more than you do.’

  We continue walking in silence. I think back over the last few minutes and remember what Kay said about someone shouting on the communicator to Ty. If Janna has been taken away, Ty must be terrified that he’s next. I suppose I can’t blame him for pretending not to know me, but I expected something from him.

  It hits me.

  ‘Janna’s in the factory,’ I say.

  ‘Is that what all that nonsense the security guy was spouting was about? That was code from your Ty. Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  I’m not really, but we haven’t got anything else to go on and I don’t want him refusing to come along. I’ve got to find Janna before anything happens to Kay.

  It doesn’t take us long to agree that since the factory by the river is the only one for miles it must be the one Ty was hinting at. We set off in that direction and I broach the question of security. Ven gives me a sideways look. He’s still not sure about me. ‘There aren’t many people trying to break into a fact
ory,’ he says. ‘Mostly they’re watching for the ones trying to get out. The workers have all got chips fitted. It’s largely an automated system. We put on the uniforms and everyone will believe we’re Leadership guards.’

  I’m amazed that he’s shared this much with me. Maybe he’s starting to believe that Kay and I aren’t the pair of spies that they were tipped off about. ‘How do you know so much about factory security?’ I ask.

  ‘It’s interesting that every time I display knowledge you display surprise.’

  Which doesn’t answer my question, but it does tell me something about why he seems to dislike me so much. ‘I appreciate you sharing information with me,’ I say in what I hope is a placating tone.

  ‘Oh no,’ Ven says.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I can see where your tiny mind is going with this one. You’re thinking that if I’m telling you what I know it must be because I’m starting to trust you.’

  I try not to show annoyance at being second-guessed. ‘Well, if you thought I was going to take it all back to the Leadership you wouldn’t tell me, would you?’

  He smiles. ‘You forget there is always the option of rendering you unable to tell anything to anyone.’

  Efwurding hell. He’s still thinking about killing me.

  He smiles again. ‘Now that is a facial expression that conveys to me that you are remembering just how precarious things are for your pitiful existence, but I’m going to need you to wear your terror on the inside right now. The factory gates are around the corner.’

  He pulls me down an alleyway to change into our guards’ uniforms. I feel sick. If I’m not killed by the factory security there’s a good chance that Ven will blow my brains out. And then what will happen to Kay? I struggle to get my buttons done up. We leave our other clothes in the bags, stashed behind some bins.