The Wilderness

by C. J. Harper

  While I’m trying to prepare for the various scenarios that might greet us, I continue to try to reach them on their communicator. I’m still dialling when we turn a corner and Ven sucks in his breath hard. As I look up, he swerves violently to avoid a stationary red van in the middle of the road, which almost sends us into a skid. I twist around to look at the van; there’s a red-clad guard slumped over the wheel.

  ‘Driver’s dead,’ I say. Then I notice that his passenger has fallen out of the van on to the road. The wind catches his jacket and it flaps about like a broken wing.

  ‘Do you think they were after our lot?’ Ven asks.

  I spot another body not dressed in red. Instead, she’s in a black uniform. But her face with its blank staring eyes seems too young to be a real delivery person.

  ‘Yes.’ I point towards the girl. ‘I think they had a shootout.’ I look around to see if there’s any sign of the bus or more Resistance members.

  ‘They can’t be far away,’ Ven says. ‘We’ve got to get them off that bus before every guard in the district shows up.’

  ‘And get rid of the bracelet and find out if they’re missing a small child who may now be an unwitting suicide bomber,’ I say.

  ‘Yes, thank you, Blake, I am so glad that I brought you along. You always know just how to lift my spirits.’

  The road starts an ascent and I turn around to look back at the bodies behind us. I try to picture what happened. The guards appearing behind the bus are starting to shoot. The team leaning out of the windows to retaliate . . . Are there casualties on the bus? Please let Ilex be all right.

  We approach the brow of the hill and I sit up straight, ready to scan the road running down in front of us.

  The car reaches the top and there, at the bottom, I see the bus.

  Consumed by flames.

  We’re too late. Please don’t let it be their bus. But it is their bus. I recognise it. The flames are climbing. Black smoke swirls upwards. Don’t let Ilex be dead. But he must be. Everyone on that bus must be charred to their bones.

  ‘Can you see any guards?’ Ven says, looking over his shoulder. His voice sounds strange, as if I’m in a cave.

  ‘I . . .’

  I can’t speak. I can’t think. They can’t be dead. Ilex and Robin and all those kids.

  Ven pulls on to the grassy bank a short distance behind the burning bus.

  I fumble to open the door. My hands are shaking so badly that I can hardly grip the catch. I turn to the bus; can we put the fire out? What good would it do anyway?

  ‘Ven! Blake!’ someone shouts.

  I turn around and there at the edge of some trees is Ilex waving his arms. He’s alive. And he’s not alone. Emerging from between the branches are more Resistance members. Thank God. I struggle to catch my breath.

  I see Robin at the same moment that Ven does. We both sprint towards her; Ven gets there first.

  ‘Where’s the bracelet?’ he says.

  ‘He made us get off the bus,’ Robin says, pointing at Ilex who is striding in our direction. ‘And then . . .’ her eyes blaze ‘. . . and then he stole my bracelet and threw it away.’ She looks at us to share her outrage.

  ‘Blake!’ Ilex says.

  ‘Ilex, how did you know?’

  ‘I listened to you talking to Robin about that shrap – that . . . bracelet and I knowed you were thinking it was bad. I gived it to Patrick and he looked and seed the thing, that tracker thing, and we . . .’ He mimes throwing the bracelet away.

  I’m beaming. ‘I told you you’re smart. Where did you throw the bracelet?’ I ask.

  ‘On to a lorry!’ Robin snaps. ‘He shouts and bosses me about just like the rest of you and—’

  ‘Be quiet,’ Ven says in a dangerously low voice. He takes Robin by the shoulders and looks her in the eyes. ‘You were very nearly responsible for the death of everyone here – and you still might be. Shut up and think about that.’

  Robin looks thunderous, but she closes her mouth.

  Patrick jogs up behind Ven.

  ‘Patrick said to do the burning of the bus,’ Ilex says. ‘When guards come they’ll maybe be thinking we’re all dead.’

  ‘A guard van started shooting at us,’ Patrick says. ‘We lost Hannah. What’s going on, Ven?’

  Ven’s eyes flash. ‘What’s going on? I was hoping that on account of you being in charge you might be able to tell me that, but perhaps you consider your title of captain of this team to be a merely decorative one.’

  Patrick colours. ‘We found a tracking device in Robin’s bracelet and—’

  ‘I know they were tracking Robin. I knew that despite the fact that I was miles away from you, and despite the fact that apart from her torrents of abuse aimed at me, I have rarely spoken to Robin; the question is why you, the captain of her team, who was sat on a bus with her, did not.’

  ‘I didn’t—’

  ‘No, you didn’t and that’s the problem. This is an efwurding shambles! I should have worn a paper bag over my head while I was delivering those lectures on looking after your team because then you wouldn’t have been mesmerised by my good looks, which you clearly were, because I can think of no other good reason why someone who calls themselves a member of the Resistance would fail to listen to the basic rules of leadership.’

  Patrick looks like he’s going cry.

  Ven lifts both his fists and for a moment I think that he’s going to strike Patrick, but then he throws his hands to the side in a gesture of frustration.

  ‘Tell them what to do,’ Ven growls at me as he turns away. ‘I need to think.’ He stalks off back to the car.

  For a moment I feel lost. I’ve become used to following Ven’s orders. What should they do? They can’t stay here. I look around. We’re only a mile or so from the district.

  ‘Split into groups,’ I say to Patrick. ‘You’re too conspicuous all together. Stick close to the trees for cover and head for your original targets in the Media sector. You’ve still got time.’

  Patrick nods. ‘We’ll get back on track, I promise.’

  ‘Blake!’ Ven shouts. ‘We’ve got other problems to deal with!’ He’s already back in the car, holding open the passenger door for me.

  ‘Good luck,’ I say to Ilex and Patrick. I run over to the car and jump in.

  Ven puts his foot to the floor and we speed away.

  When we hit the district’s shopping sector Ven says, ‘Do you think Nard would definitely be able to make an actual bomb? He’s not on the Defence team.’

  I’m surprised by this question. ‘I think Nard knows a fair bit about explosives. And guns. And weapons in general. Nard is pretty much into anything that can kill someone.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Apparently he talks about it a lot. Haven’t you heard him?’

  ‘I can’t listen to the babbling of every member of the Resistance. I’ve got a filter. When people like Nard speak, it just sounds like buzzing to me.’

  ‘Don’t you remember him going on about Plan Scarlett – which I heard involves blowing the Leadership up with a ton of explosives. You said it was a no-go.’

  ‘I vaguely remember that.’

  ‘I’m surprised that someone of your intelligence would forget a thing like that.’

  He takes his eyes off the road to give me a heavy-lidded stare. ‘Blake, I have to apply my brilliance to any number of plans that are actually occurring. I don’t waste time on the ones I’ve rejected.’

  Now isn’t the time to get into an argument with Ven so I content myself with saying, ‘Maybe sometimes you should give a little more thought to the ones you’ve rejected.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ I ask, realising that I have no idea where we’re headed now.

  ‘We’re going to get into position ready for The Leader’s speech, just like we planned.’

  I blink. ‘Is there any point if Nard’s bomb is going to blow him up anyway? Shouldn’t we be getting away? Or looking for the little girl?’ />
  ‘We don’t know for sure what Nard is up to. Maybe he’s taken his explosives and his uniform elsewhere. No one has reported a missing team member yet. If there is an exploding child wandering around in the square, then we’ll have to trust that Tanisha and Kurt have picked her up, because we are going to carry on exactly as arranged. We’ve worked too hard to abandon the plan now.’

  He is seriously determined. So am I. I don’t even consider trying to talk him out of it. There may be a bomb in the vicinity, but this is probably the best opportunity I’ll ever get to kill The Leader.

  We park several streets away and then walk over to the main square. We’re well behind schedule and I struggle to keep up with Ven’s urgent striding. As we approach, the air vibrates with the throb of loud music. The celebrations have already started. Balloons and long strings of bunting are swaying in the breeze.

  The main square is surrounded by government buildings. All entrances have been gated for the occasion and admission is strictly by ticket only. As we get closer to the gate my heart speeds up. I’m afraid that the guards will know who we are. I focus my eyes on a man spreading a picnic blanket out on the grass for his family and let Ven hand over the tickets.

  The guard on the gate says nothing.

  I follow Ven through the swarms of people and stalls selling sweets and flags, until we reach a tall grey building on the other side of the square. Just as we expected, the main entrance is hidden by a large section of boarding which shows a display of ‘Letters to my Leader’ written by young children.

  ‘Wait for it,’ Ven says.

  We hover for a moment and I wonder what it would be like to forget about all of this and just sit down on the grass and let someone else worry about making everything right.

  The music cuts out and a voice says, ‘Please welcome back your host . . .’

  There’s a storm of clapping and the music swells. Ven slips behind the boarding and I follow.

  Ven reaches for the door press-pad and taps in the code that I found for him by hacking into the building’s security records. Once inside, we creep up two flights of stairs. Ven locates a caretaker’s cupboard and produces an old-fashioned metal key. Inside, I’m relieved to see the bags that were sent ahead. At least some parts of our plot seem to have gone to plan. I pick up my bag and we move to a large open-plan office that looks out over the square.

  ‘Keep low,’ Ven says.

  We drop to our knees and crawl to the windows.

  I take out my rifle and calibrate the laser sight as quickly as I can. Slowly, I raise my head high enough to look out of the window. I’ve got a great view of the stage.

  The presenter is bouncing about telling the audience what a wonderful day it is and what a great man The Leader is. The crowd are quite happy to cheer at the appropriate moments. It’s just a day out for most of them. They’re oblivious to the fact there might be a child sat next to them with enough explosives strapped to her to blow them all to smithereens.

  My heart squeezes. Where is Kay? If a bomb did go off, would she be safe from the blast? Considering the quantities of explosives Ven was talking about, I’d be dead for sure. But I try not to think about that.

  ‘The Leader will be on soon,’ Ven says in a low voice.

  There’s a thump somewhere below and behind us. ‘What was that?’ I ask.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I heard something. There’s someone in here.’

  ‘I can’t hear anything.’

  The sound comes again. Ven’s eyes meet mine and I know he’s heard it too.

  There’s someone coming up the stairs.

  I only have time to swing my rifle round so it’s pointing at the door before it opens.

  I squeeze my trigger finger and . . . stop.

  Standing in the doorway wearing a Girls Guards’ uniform is Kay.

  ‘King hell, Kay! I almost shot you.’

  ‘Blake!’ she says, coming into the room.

  ‘Oh, it all makes sense now,’ Ven drawls. ‘We should have realised before that your pixie friend was the perfect size for the uniform.’

  ‘You’ve got to get out,’ Kay says. ‘Nard sent me—’

  ‘We know Nard sent you,’ I say. But my brain is fumbling to work out why.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Ven asks. ‘Didn’t he tell you to stay in the square?’

  Kay frowns. ‘No, Nard told me to get you out. He heard a thing on the guard communicators. They’re searching all the buildings around the square, but we can’t get you on the communicator here because guards listen to all communicators around here. We needed to get into the square to tell you to get out, but no one can get in without a ticket, but Nard had a ticket for a Girl Guard—’

  Ven grabs his gun and stands up to go. ‘At least we don’t have to worry about a bomb any more.’

  ‘Wait,’ I say.

  ‘Blake, they’re coming,’ Kay says.

  ‘Nard’s not trying to blow anyone up, he’s saving our behinds,’ Ven says.

  ‘No, wait! Think about it. When did Nard hear the guards talking, Kay? Did you hear it?’

  ‘No. It was a little bit back.’

  ‘And when do you think he kidnapped the girl?’ I say to Ven.

  Ven can see where I’m going.

  ‘Nard didn’t get hold of that uniform on the off-chance that he’d need to send Kay to warn us about the guards. He’s planned this. He’s . . .’ I screw up my face. I don’t know what he’s doing. I don’t even know if we should still be worrying about a bomb. ‘Kay, did he give you anything to carry?’

  ‘No. What’s going on?’

  I look at Kay’s slight figure. There’s no way Nard could strap explosives to her without her knowledge.

  Ven’s got his eyes closed in concentration. ‘Let’s think. He’s sent us Kay. Why would he do that? What’s special about Kay?’

  Kay has paled. ‘He said you’re in danger, and he said it’s bad that no one knows where you are, and I . . .’ She glances at Ven because of course she’s not supposed to know where we are. I wasn’t supposed to tell her, but Nard was banking on me not being able to keep my mouth shut. ‘. . . I said I know where Blake is, so Nard said I have to come to you because I’m the only one who knows where you are.’

  Below us, the door crashes open.

  Ven sucks in his breath. ‘I don’t think you’re the only one who knows where we are any more.’

  ‘That bastard Nard has betrayed us!’ Ven says, grabbing his backpack. ‘Come on, there’s a walkway to the next building on the fifteenth floor.’

  Footsteps are thundering up the stairs. It has to be guards. I snatch a revolver from my bag and press it into Kay’s hands. We rush after Ven, who is taking the stairs two at a time. I hear a hissed command below us. I can’t believe we were worrying about a bomb and all this time Nard just wanted to use Kay to show the guards where to catch us in the act. Does he really hate me that much? Enough to ruin our chances of taking down The Leader?

  We keep running. Looking over the bars, I see a flash of red beneath us. It’s guards all right. Ven and Kay are already ahead of me. I work my aching legs faster. We reach the next landing. My gun is heavy in my hands. What is Ven’s plan? What can we do, even if we make it into the next building? I’m too breathless to ask him. The footsteps are louder and closer. I think about angles of sight. Once they reach the floor below us, will they be able to get a clear shot?

  ‘Keep,’ I gasp, ‘to . . . the wall.’

  Ven and Kay obediently move towards the wall as they run on. I’m falling behind again.

  I look up. We’re still a long way from the fifteenth floor. I stumble on and risk a look back. The guards are definitely gaining on us. Outside, I can hear children singing.

  ‘Ven,’ I say, ‘we . . . won’t . . . make it.’ We’ve reached a landing and I stop. It’s better that we hide, so we’ve got the advantage when the shooting starts. Ven and Kay stop too. Ven looks back, and then up. He freezes. It
’s his first moment of indecision I’ve seen since we met. I move behind a pillar and try to pull Kay with me, but she steps in front of Ven, her back to his front, and flings his arm around her neck. The guards round the corner. They see a tiny blonde Girl Guard apparently taken hostage by a member of the Resistance.

  ‘Help me!’ Kay screams. ‘They’ve got me!’

  The bunch of guards look at each other in confusion. I put a bullet through the forehead of the nearest one. Ven and Kay send a spray of fire across the front row before they’ve even realised what’s happening. They tumble backwards, knocking over those behind.

  ‘This way,’ I say, flinging open the door behind me and running into another open-plan office space. Outside, music is pumping. I dive behind a desk then twist on to my knees and raise my gun. A guard pushes through the door and I shoot him right in the chest. He falls. Another guard – Ven hits him first. Then a jumble of them push through the door together and we’re all shooting at the same time. Redclad bodies hit the floor again and again. We’re killing them. Efwurding hell, I’m shooting guards and I’m killing them. Out of the jerking mass of red, one of the guards breaks free and runs towards me. I fumble and my gun slips as he lifts his and aims. He’s only a few metres from me and as I duck I know that his bullet is heading straight for me. It whizzes past my cheek. The guard stops like he has hit an invisible wall and then crumples.

  Kay has shot him in the neck.

  I turn my gun back to the door, but there is no need. No more guards come.

  Outside, the rousing music thumps and jingles on. Has no one heard all the shooting?

  My heart is banging against my ribs. ‘Kay? Are you all right?’

  Kay stands up from behind a knocked-over table and gives me a shaky smile.