School's Out Forever

by Scott K. Andrews

  “We could head for the continent, I suppose,” I said. “It might be the best option.”

  “We stayed and fought in Basra,” said Tariq. “And John and I are the only survivors. If we try to fight the Americans it is most likely we will all end up with stakes through our chests. And I would like to avoid that if at all possible.”

  “Even if we do decide to leave, I won’t leave Rowles and Caroline there and that’s final,” I said firmly. “Tariq, you’ve no ties here, you’re free to go whenever you wish. But I will get those children to safety or die trying.”

  Tariq held my gaze for a moment then inclined his head, a small gesture of acknowledgment and respect. “Lee?”

  Lee stared at me as if from a million miles away, finally acknowledging my presence. I held his gaze and smiled a small, sad smile. His face softened and he nodded.

  “Yeah, okay,” he said. “I owe Rowles my life several times over. We get him and Caroline out.”

  “Good,” I said. “Then...”

  “But that’s all,” said Lee. “You’re right, Jane, we can’t win this. I’m not starting a war. I don’t care about revenge or justice or any of it. I’ll go rescue my friends and then Dad and me are going somewhere far away from all of this. It’s not my fight. Not any more.”

  “Fair enough,” I said, hoping that I could persuade him to change his mind but knowing this was not the moment to try. “Tariq?”

  The Iraqi sighed heavily and shook his head. “Fucking death wish,” he muttered. Then he shrugged. “What the hell. I’m in. Jamal?”

  “No, Sir,” said the soldier. “I’ll be hitting the road in the morning. See if I can’t get to London, maybe find a way home.”

  Lee reached across and shook the American’s hand. “Thank you for everything,” he said. “And good luck.”

  “You too.” He drained his mug and bid us goodbye.

  “So what’s the plan?” asked Tariq.

  There was a long silence.

  “I think we ought to talk to the king,” I said. “But first, let’s go join the school, shall we?”

  LEE

  JANE INSISTED ON walking into the dining room but she needed assistance, so I held her arm as she shuffled in.

  When the children saw us they all rose to their feet and cheered, clapping their hands, whooping and hollering. Some of the little ones ran forward, arms wide, and I had to help her bend down so she could hug them. Green walked up to me, shook my hand, and told me how glad he was to see me. It was nice to be back amongst friends. When I helped Jane stand up again her eyes were brimming with tears. She waved everyone to sit down and I led her to the high table where she sat to address the school.

  “Thank you all, so much,” she said, uncharacteristically emotional. She wiped her eyes and laughed. “Sorry. As you can see I’ve been in the wars a bit since I left. But I’m going to be fine and I’m not going to be leaving the school again any time soon.” More cheers. “But we have a problem, and I’m going to let Lee explain it to you.”

  I stepped to the front of the table and began my story, starting with my arrival in Iraq and leaving nothing out. They were children, but they needed to know what we were up against. Nobody made a sound when I had finished. I then handed the floor back to Jane, who told her tale, bringing the school up to date, omitting only to mention the king, who she had subtly pointed out to me as we entered, sitting comfortably with the senior boys.

  “So here’s what we’re going to do,” she said finally. “Lee is going to lead a rescue mission to recover Rowles and Caroline. It’s important that you know we would do the same for any and all of you. We won’t leave our children behind. But when Lee returns with them – and he will – we don’t know what the future may hold. It’s not over yet, but we promise we will keep you safe whatever it takes. In the meantime, classes as usual.” There were some good natured groans, and breakfast resumed, the hum of conversation rising until it was almost deafening.

  “Let’s get out of here and go somewhere quieter,” said Jane. As we walked to the door she looked over and gave the king a nod. The boy rose and left by another door.

  We had plans to make.

  “THESE ARE THE petrol tankers,” said King Jack, pointing at the large map he’d drawn for us. “There are hundreds of them, all full. Here we have the tanks, here the non-armoured motor vehicles, and here the fire engines and ambulances. To the north is the parade ground, and this whole swathe of buildings is the barracks. Then we’ve got the shooting ranges here and here, the training ground here, mess, medical centre and MP station. That may be where any prisoners are being held, in the cells. This is the main admin building, so it’s probably where the general has his office. Then out further east you’ve got the houses and flats, accommodation for married couples and officers.”

  “And what’s this?” I asked, pointing to a red cross next to the admin building.

  “That is the main entrance to the tunnels. There’s another one here,” he drew another cross by a firing range. “This one’s disguised as a cupboard, so there’s a slim chance they don’t know about it. If they don’t, then it’s our way in. I imagine the Americans have blown the main entrance by now. If so, there’s a good chance that the prisoners might be down there.”

  “What was kept down there?” I asked.

  Jack hesitated. “I suppose top secret doesn’t really mean anything any more, does it?”

  “Not really,” said Jane.

  “The tunnels have got all the really nasty stuff in them,” he said. “The weapons of mass destruction.”

  I hadn’t known what to expect when Jane had told me we had the king in our midst, but Jack was a normal kid. He sounded middle class rather than posh, he didn’t put on airs and graces at all, and he insisted we call him Jack.

  “Thank you for this Jack,” I said. “It’ll be helpful.”

  He looked surprised. “But I can show you myself. I mean, I’m coming with you.”

  “Out of the question,” I said curtly.

  “But I know the layout better than any of you. I’m the only one who can lead you safely though that place.”

  “We’ve got a woman on the inside,” I said. “She’s going to meet us and take us where we need to go. We don’t need you. Anyway, what combat experience have you got?”

  “Sanders taught me everything he knew,” said the boy defensively.

  “But have you ever actually been in a fight?”

  “I was there when the Americans attacked.”

  “That’s true, Lee,” said Jane. “One of the few things I remember is Jack shooting at them.”

  “Look,” he said. “At the moment it’s just you and this Iraqi guy, right?”

  “My name’s Tariq,” said the man standing beside Jack.

  “Right, sorry. Tariq. Neither of you know the compound like I do, and you could use the backup.”

  I shook my head. “No. This is a mission of stealth. In, grab, out. With luck we’ll be gone before they realise we were ever there. The more of us there are, the greater the risk of us being detected. And I’ll be honest, I don’t trust you not to go and do something stupid, like trying to blow the place up.”

  Our glorious majesty sulked for a moment and then said something which changed my mind.

  “There’s one very special warehouse down there...” he began. We listened until he’d finished speaking; all of us with our mouths open in astonishment.

  “And you know the codes?” I asked incredulously.

  He nodded. “Sanders showed me. I persuaded him it was my royal prerogative. I think he thought it was funny.”

  We were all silent for a moment and then Tariq clapped his hands and said: “Well shit, now we’ve got a ball game!”

  JANE

  THAT NIGHT, JUSTIN and Tariq helped me to a downstairs room they’d prepared for me. After they’d gone I lay in the cool sheets feeling the soft cotton pillowcase on my naked scalp.

  I was too nervous to sleep, unsur
e of what I felt. My joy at Lee’s return, my fears for his safety and that of everyone in the school who I’d unwittingly put into the firing line, the loss of Sanders. It was all too much to process. So I lay there, unable to sleep, until I heard a soft knock at the door.

  “Hello?” I said.

  The door cracked open and Lee stepped inside. “Hi.”

  “Hey.”

  He came and sat on the bed next to me, avoiding my gaze. “I’m sorry. For shouting at you this morning, I mean. That was out of order.”

  I reached out and squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “It’s just, with Dad and you... I mean, he might die and you look so ill. I just...”

  “He’s going to be fine. He’s had a good day. He’s sleeping it off naturally now. He’s over the worst.”

  “I thought I’d lose him, too,” he whispered. “Like Mum.”

  “No. Not today, anyway.”

  He bowed his head, took a deep breath and said softly: “I killed her.”

  “Sorry?”

  “She was so sick. She couldn’t stop crying. It was awful. Then there were the seizures and she started bleeding from everywhere. And I couldn’t help. I couldn’t do anything for her. I sat there mopping her brow with a wet flannel and telling her it’d be okay. In the end she begged me to kill her, to make the pain stop. She’d never have asked me to do that if it hadn’t driven her mad. And when she said that, when she said ‘Please kill me,’ I stopped crying. Because here was something I could actually do, you know? Here was a way I could help her. So I took a pillow and I smothered her. And you know what? She didn’t struggle. She put her hand up and held mine, even as I was using it to choke the life out of her. She held my hand and she squeezed it, just like you’re doing now. She was grateful, so it didn’t feel like murder. Bates felt like murder, even though I suppose that was a mercy killing too. But Mum? No. ’Cause I loved her so much. She was kind and funny and she used to sing me to sleep when I was little. And when she died I thought, that’s it. I’ve killed the person I loved most in the world, the only person left who loved me. I thought I’d actually killed love and that I was broken now, forever.

  “Then I came back to school and found you. And then Dad.”

  He began to cry great heaving sobs. I pushed myself up and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him down on to the bed beside me. I held him as he wept, stroking his head and shushing him into a deep, silent sleep.

  LEE

  “DAD, I DUNNO if you can hear me, but I’ve got to go. Blythe’s got a couple of the kids from the school and Tariq and me are going to get them back. I know what you’d say if you were awake, but if you were in my shoes, you’d do exactly what I’m doing now and you know it.

  “I reckon we’ll be back in a week or so. By then you’ll be up and about, I’m sure, waiting to bite my head off for being so reckless.

  “If I don’t come back, then you’ll be among friends here. Jane will take good care of you, and I want you to take good care of her in return. She’s special. You haven’t met her yet, but she saved your life and mine. Only she’s not as strong as she makes out, sometimes. She’s better when she’s got someone to lean on. And if I don’t come back, that’s going to have to be you.

  “When you called me from Iraq that time you told me to be strong. For Mum. I didn’t let you down. You’ll never know how strong I was. Now I need you to be strong for me, and for her. I know you will be. You keep sleeping it off and I’ll see you soon. I love you, Dad.

  “Bye.”

  JANE REACHED OUT and took my hand.

  “I would ask you not to go, but you wouldn’t listen, would you?” she said with a sad smile.

  “No. But I came back last time, and I’ll be back again. I promise. And this time I’ll be staying. I meant it, you know. No more fighting for me. I’ve had enough. I just want to stay here and look after the school. With you. In mono.”

  Jane laughed. “How is the other ear?”

  “Almost back to normal now. I’d say about 80%.”

  “That’s what you get for trying to be a soldier.”

  “You can talk, Davros.”

  “Oi!”

  I leaned forward, put my hands on her sunken cheeks and kissed her. Then I rested my forehead on hers and closed my eyes.

  “I’ll see you soon, Jane.”

  “You’d better, Lee.”

  Then I stood up and walked away.

  I didn’t look back.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  LEE

  “ANYTHING?” I ASKED.

  “No. Just static,” replied Tariq.

  “And you’re sure you got the frequency right?”

  “Of course.”

  “And the clock’s right?”

  “She said three every morning. She’ll be here, Lee. Relax.”

  The radio gave two bursts of white noise.

  “That’s her.” Tariq pressed the speak button on the Stryker radio and squawked back four times. There was a pause and then the radio crackled into life.

  “That you, Tramp?” It was Sue, whispering.

  “Yes. Where are you?”

  “South perimeter. There’s a firing range by the fence.”

  “I know where she is,” said Jack. “We can be there in five minutes.”

  “Did you hear that, Lady?”

  “Sure did. There are perimeter patrols, so go carefully. I’ll be waiting.”

  “See you soon.” Tariq clicked the radio off and we primed our weapons.

  We had parked the armoured car in woodland close to the base. Although we’d encountered no patrols or guards of any kind, Blythe had begun stamping his authority on the area.

  We’d passed Stonehenge on the way to the base; the ancient stone circle was full of staked soldiers, hundreds of them, lined up in concentric circles, staring at the stars, like an offering to an ancient god.

  We had no doubt that we’d suffer a similar fate if we were caught. I used the periscope to scan our surroundings. “All clear,” I said. We turned off the interior lights and cracked the hatch, climbing out into the cold night air. It was a dark, moonless night, but Jack was wearing a nightsight Jamal had given us before he left.

  Leaving the Stryker behind us, we let Jack take the lead. I didn’t know what to make of this boy king. He was an uneasy mix of overconfidence and insecurity. He’d been reticent about his royalty, unwilling to explain how he ended up the ceremonial head of state, at least in the eyes of the British Army. Green told me he’d been eager to blend into the background, unwilling to draw undue attention. Yet here he was leading us into the heart of enemy territory on a mission to rescue two children he’d never met. When I asked him why he had insisted on accompanying us he just said it was his duty. I had no idea how he’d fare in combat, but his knowledge of the base, and the ordnance contained within it, was our ace in the hole.

  We reached the edge of the trees, where the cover abruptly ended in a fifty-metre stretch of clear grass. Beyond this stood a high chainlink fence. Crouching down, Jack scanned the buildings for movement. He saw a patrol and gestured for us to retreat back into cover. Hidden by the shadows, we watched the two guards walk past us and disappear past the barracks.

  “That’s the firing range.” Jack pointed to a high brick wall just inside the fence. I reached behind me and pulled the wire cutters from my back pack.

  “Stay here,” I whispered.

  I broke cover and scurried to the fence. Lying on the wet grass, I cut a small hole at the base, wincing at the noise each wire made as it snapped. I pulled back a flap of the fence to make an entrance and waved the other two forward. Once they had crawled inside, I followed and pulled the fence closed again. With any luck, the guards wouldn’t notice the hole on their next circuit. Stashing the wire cutters back in my bag, I followed Jack as he led us round the wall at the far end of the firing range to a sandpit where cardboard cut out soldiers stood like silent sentries.

  “Psst.” It was
Sue, standing at the corner of the wall, dressed in black, her face covered in boot polish just like ours. She didn’t waste any time. “There are three perimeter patrols and they pass here about every twenty minutes. There are other random patrols wandering the base. They don’t have a set pattern, so we have to move carefully.

  “Where are they?” I asked.

  “The boy is being held in the tunnels under the main building, which is where Blythe works and sleeps.”

  “How did they get into the tunnels?” asked Jack.

  “They blew up the door by the main building,” replied Sue.

  “And the other door?”

  “What other door?”

  Jack turned to me and grinned.

  “And the girl, Caroline?” I asked.

  “They never found any girl,” said Sue. “What’s the plan?”

  Tariq told her and she pursed her lips in surprise. “That’s a bit extreme,” she said. But she didn’t raise any objections.

  “This way,” said Jack. He led us down the length of the firing range and across a road to a small outbuilding with a big metal door. He punched a code into the keypad beside the door and it clicked open. We hurried inside and pulled the door closed behind us, then crept down the concrete steps into the system of tunnels that lay beneath the base. The walls were concrete, with electric cables and pipes running along them. It smelt of damp. The lights were on.

  “Knives only,” whispered Tariq, drawing his blade and pushing his gun back over his shoulder. “A shot down here would be heard through the whole tunnel system.”

  Jack moved quickly and confidently, sure of the way. He led us past endless doors, all locked tight. “Some of these go down to other chambers, some are just offices. The two places we’re interested in are at opposite ends of the complex.”