by Jon Robinson
Susannah covered her eyes with her hand and started to sob.
Stephen let go of her, pointing at her and yelping with delight. ‘I made you cry!’ he shrieked, his eyes wide, childlike and excited. ‘You’ll do it, Ms Dion, or I’ll find someone else who can!’
Giggling behind his hand like a naughty infant, Stephen left her office and ran outside through the snow.
He knelt by the yard door, gathered a ball of snow and threw it at one of the unsuspecting guards, laughing until he was gripping his sides and he could barely breathe.
Epilogue
Alyn wandered through the freezing streets, slipping in and out of the dashing pedestrians. In his mind’s eye he watched the chandelier fall amid the smoke and fire; he could hear the creak of plaster loosening and then the screams from the masked men below.
He felt his breath escape him as though drowning and came to. Alone on a bustling street. The sky was overcast and threatened rain. He removed Felix’s key from his pocket. What next? he thought.
‘Out of the way,’ someone growled and pushed past.
Alyn stepped inside a department-store doorway and put his hand to his head. He closed his eyes, but again the scene played.
He jumped as the chandelier fell, and looked up to find a hand on his shoulder.
‘You,’ Alyn hissed.
Emmanuel slipped his hands inside his overcoat pockets.
‘Felix is dead,’ Alyn said. ‘They say it was a heart attack but I know it wasn’t. I know he was killed.’
‘Quite a claim, Alyn. I hope you have the evidence.’
‘I’ll find it,’ Alyn said. He pulled back, staring at Emmanuel. ‘What do you want? And who are you?’
‘Who I am is irrelevant. I’m setting something in motion, Alyn. Something great … and wonderful. Something that no one could have ever dreamed of.’
‘The Pledge says the same sort of stuff,’ Alyn sneered.
‘The Pledge has no idea what I can do or what you can do. I want you to join me,’ Emmanuel said. ‘And you’ll have no reason to be scared.’
‘Join you?’
‘The Pledge thinks that by harnessing the Ability through you, and the rest of the prisoners, they can save the country. But all they’re really doing is putting a plaster over a wound that will never heal. Everything needs to be destroyed, Alyn. Incinerated. So that a new age can be rebuilt from the ashes.’
‘And you plan on doing this how exactly?’
‘I don’t plan on doing anything. It has already begun. Join me, Alyn.’
He extended his hand towards the boy. Alyn looked down at his hand, then back up at Emmanuel, who was smiling.
Acknowledgements
Just weeks before Nowhere was released, a very anxious and excited me made the mistake of saying, ‘Wow – this must be how a pregnant woman feels!’ to a room full of women, many of whom had children. It did not go down well. Looking back, it was the wrong thing to say – not even because of a typical male trivializing of the pain of childbirth – but because the creation of a novel is not at all a singular effort. It is a collaboration.
And so for that I would like to sincerely thank everyone at Puffin Books who I previously mentioned for their amazing contributions, guidance and support. I really am tremendously lucky and grateful every single day to be a part of the family.
Also, a massive thanks again to my amazing agent Claire Wilson and everyone else at RCW and to Bella Pearson, for all of her editorial assistance with this book. (Oh, and to Sarah, who would probably kill me if I didn’t mention her.)
If you would like to...
Turn the page for an extract from
Somewhere
(Nowhere Book 3)
by
Jon Robinson
Jon Robinson
SOMEWHERE
Prologue
A snowstorm lashed at the concrete walls of the prison, rendering the grey stone white. Hidden by acres of surrounding woodland, the building was almost invisible at the best of times. Then again, that’s the whole point, Henry thought, sitting against the wall of the underground cell. His white beard was flecked with blood from wounds inflicted by the guards when they’d caught him, when he’d been helping Jes and Ryan escape.
Luthan won’t just leave me here, he thought. He was sure the Guild would be doing everything they could to free him.
He looked up as the sound of footsteps came down the corridor.
The door opened and Susannah, the teacher, stepped inside.
‘Have you come to gloat?’ Henry said.
‘Felix is dead,’ she said abruptly. ‘And Stephen Nover has taken control of the Pledge. He’s insane …’ She paused, looking around as if someone might overhear. ‘Never mind. That’s not the only reason I came here. Something’s happening to the children. I need your help.’
Henry watched her carefully and nodded.
Susannah looked over her shoulder at the door. ‘Come in,’ she said.
A small frail-looking boy with pale skin entered. His nose was flecked with dried blood.
‘He’s passed out a couple of times,’ Susannah said. ‘He’s been getting quite confused.’
‘I see.’
‘Do you want to examine him or –’
‘I’ve seen enough,’ Henry said.
‘Very well.’ Susannah called to the guard, who appeared at the door. ‘Take this inmate back to his cell.’
The guard nodded and beckoned to the boy, who quickly left. As soon as their footsteps had disappeared, Henry sighed deeply and looked at Susannah, before saying, ‘The Ability is being overused. It’s making them sick. When reality is manipulated on such a scale, like you’re doing here, it causes the brain to just …’ Henry snapped his fingers.
‘What does that mean?’ Susannah asked. ‘What will happen?’
‘The nosebleeds will get worse. So will the blackouts until he’s either lost his mind completely … or he just doesn’t wake up. And not just the children here. My people too. The escaped inmates.’ He stopped and slowly shook his head. ‘It’ll kill them all.’
Susannah said nothing for a few moments. ‘Is there any way of stopping it?’
‘End the project,’ Henry said. ‘At once. Set them free.’
‘There’s nothing I can do,’ she said. ‘If I disobey Stephen, he’ll just get someone else to take my place. He won’t let it end –’
Henry narrowed his eyes. ‘We discovered the Ability, Susannah, all those years ago … and you let it fall into the wrong hands … You gave it to these psychopaths and now we’re all in danger: you, me, the country itself. The children –’
‘I know!’ she hissed, exasperated. ‘But it’s out of my hands now. I’m just as much of a prisoner as you are.’
Before he could answer, she turned and slammed the door shut.
Henry leant his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.
1
A crow flew on to a lamp post and croaked as a car hurtled round the corner, its speakers blaring. The gust of wind blew a plastic bag on to the snow-covered grass. From the outside, the Guild’s building looked like a decrepit block of flats in a south London estate: the last place anyone would expect to find a training school for those who could manipulate reality itself. The only indication was the heavy security gate that barred the front entrance to the building.
Inside the dining room, Luthan, the acting leader of the Guild, studied the group assembled round the table as they ate lunch. A stocky bald man in his early forties with deep-set wrinkles around his eyes, he possessed the intensity of someone who was relishing his opportunity to take charge.
On his right was Elsa, the youngest: small, scrawny, with freckles and frizzy brown hair. The most innocent of the escaped inmates. The most naive, he corrected himself silently. A potential hazard. Jes, an attractive red-haired girl, was sitting beside her and indignantly prodding her lunch. She seemed to be growing more and more angry, but he admired her no-nonsense attitud
e. If her skill increased, she might some day make a fine member. Ryan, next to her, obviously had feelings for her – only a fool could not see it. But his aggression would need to be kept under control, or he might be a problem.
Luthan then looked over at Julian, a slim boy with dark hair and pointed elfin features. He’d heard tales of how he was clever, but a traitor. Luthan liked to think anyone could change, but, if not, Julian might need to go; the Guild couldn’t risk someone like that among its ranks. But, despite his manipulative streak, Julian seemed less keen on altering reality than the others, to the point of self-righteousness. At the other end of the spectrum was Harlan, a tall, quiet Indian boy who kept himself guarded. He was desperate to join them. Maybe a little too desperate. Luthan noticed he’d been spending an increasing amount of time using the Ability. It seemed like it was starting to become an obsession.
‘Henry is a prisoner in Nowhere,’ said Luthan from the head of the dining table, ‘and the Pledge’s project is still underway. They might think they’re saving the country, but we all know what this is really about … power. And money.’ Luthan paused, as the group took in his words. ‘As long as they are around,’ he continued, ‘none of you will ever be safe.’
‘Neither are the rest of us now they know the Guild exists,’ said Pyra resentfully.
She was in her early twenties, wearing a leather jacket and tattered jeans. Her black hair was short and spiky and fell across one eye. Pyra had joined the Guild at a young age, and she too had taken a while to fit in. Now she was one of the most valuable members of the team. Quick, fearless. Willing to do whatever it took.
Ryan was slouched in his chair with his hood up and his hands in his pockets. He had barely touched his food.
‘What do you think, Ryan?’ said Luthan.
Ryan gave a feeble shrug. ‘Dunno.’
‘This is your future too,’ said Luthan. ‘Giving it some thought might not be such a bad idea.’
‘Look, mate, I don’t know! I don’t know what to say. Yeah, they’re all scumbags. Stephen’s a nutter …’
Luthan leant forward and locked his fingers together. ‘The inmates in Nowhere are forced to watch films containing subliminal messages: a way to harness the Ability without them realizing –’
‘To make things happen,’ Jes interrupted. ‘We know. We were there, remember?’
‘We need to stop the project,’ Luthan said. ‘But to do that we need to get inside.’
‘There’s a tunnel in the yard,’ Harlan said. ‘Was a tunnel. I’m sure it’s been blocked up by now.’
‘All of you are quite sure there’s no other way in?’
The group shook their heads. ‘Place is like a fort,’ said Ryan.
‘And to get into a fort, you need an army,’ Julian offered. ‘And you don’t have one. You’ve only got us. Sorry to break it to you, but Henry’s not getting out of there. And you’re not getting in.’
Half an hour later, everyone had finished eating and went their separate ways, without resolution. After some moments sitting alone, Luthan went into the corridor. When he was certain there was no one around, he walked over to a door in the middle of the corridor and knelt down, removing a small key from a secret compartment in the wooden skirting-board.
He unlocked and opened the door and entered. In the darkness Luthan could just make out the faintest hint of a shape, silhouetted against the wall. ‘Hang on in there,’ he said. ‘I’m doing everything I can to stop it.’
With that, Luthan stepped back outside, locked the door and put the key back inside the panel.
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PENGUIN BOOKS
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First published 2014
Text copyright © Jon Robinson, 2014
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ISBN: 978-0-141-34658-8