Mr Burke still looked far from convinced, but Mr Weir’s reassurances seemed to sink in deeper than mine did. I guessed they’d formed a pretty tight bond after all those weeks trapped in the camp together.
‘And this Tobias,’ said Mr Burke stiffly. ‘Who’s he?’
I glanced sideways at the Weirs. I kept forgetting how long he’d been out of the loop. ‘He’s … he’s your son,’ I said, and watched his face transform in a second. ‘Mrs Burke had the baby last night, right before the guards found us. Jordan and I got out, and we brought Tobias with us, and …’ I paused, struggling to even get the words together. ‘Mr Burke, we think Tobias can do something to stop Tabitha. That’s why they’re out there. Calvin says he knows what Tobias has to do.’
Mr Burke looked like he’d been hit by a truck. He stared at me, open-mouthed. Then slowly, he nodded. Not like he understood, but like it was all he could get his body to do.
‘We should get moving,’ said Mr Weir, glancing at the computer on Pryor’s desk. ‘I’ll head down the hall and see if I can find a safer place to override the lift controls.’
‘Ben More’s office?’ I suggested. ‘He was killed last night. Shouldn’t be anyone in there.’
We split up and I headed for the secret lift with the others, stopping at the big metal door opposite Mr Weir’s old office. I shifted my grip on the missile launcher, which Lazarro still hadn’t taken back, and swiped Bill’s key card against the wall.
The door swung open. We stepped through, and I hit the button for the lift. The doors didn’t open right away. Instead, I heard the heavy mechanical clunking of the lift coming down to meet us.
‘It was upstairs,’ said Lazarro in a low voice. ‘There’s someone up there.’
‘Pryor,’ I said, steeling myself, ‘and the guards, or whoever was with her.’
‘Hopefully too busy to notice us coming,’ Lazarro said. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll deal with them.’
The doors sprang open. We got inside and I hit the button for the basement, just to be sure we really were locked out.
The lift didn’t move.
I pressed the button for the floor above us, and the doors slid shut.
‘Here,’ I told Mr Burke as we trundled upward, shrugging my shoulder to indicate that he should take my rifle. He was just pulling it away from me when the doors opened onto the secret top floor, a big open-plan office with floor-to-ceiling glass running along one side.
Lazarro opened fire as soon as the gap was wide enough. The noise roared around us, drowning the shouts of the security guards as they ducked for cover.
There were two of them. One was dead before he hit the ground. The other dived behind a desk, twisting around to return fire.
Behind them, Pryor abandoned the filing cabinet she’d been searching through and dropped to the floor.
I dived behind a desk and started crawling towards the door at the back of the room, dragging the missile launcher awkwardly along beside me.
The surviving guard fired his rifle, tearing up the wall behind me, and Mr Burke thumped heavily to the ground on my left. He rolled over, unhurt.
Lazarro was behind us. He fired again, blasting a giant hole in the glass wall. The wind swirled in, scattering paperwork and chilling the air.
A computer monitor exploded above my head. I hurried forward, throwing myself across a walkway between two desks.
And suddenly, there was the guard.
He turned, spotting me, whipped his weapon around in my direction – and then jerked backwards, shuddering with the impact of a dozen bullets from Lazarro’s rifle. He collapsed against the wall behind him, streaking the glass with blood as he slid to the ground.
An eerie quiet swept through the office, broken only by Lazarro’s cautious footsteps and the rustle of paper in the wind. Where was Pryor?
Lazarro crept up to join us, rifle sweeping through the air ahead of him. ‘Stay behind me,’ he muttered.
I kept low to the ground, my eyes jittering around the room. Where was she?
‘This it?’ said Mr Burke as we reached a locked door in the back corner of the office. I nodded, and he jumped up, smashing the door handle to the ground with the butt of his rifle. Then he flinched and dropped to the floor again, just as –
BLAM! BLAM!
Two neat holes pierced the door, right where his head had been.
‘GO!’ said Lazarro, returning fire. ‘Get up there!’
I grabbed the bottom of the door, yanked it wide and scrambled through, finding a flight of steep metal stairs on the other side. I started climbing, still heaving the missile launcher.
More gunshots. Two from Pryor’s pistol, and then a burst from Lazarro’s rifle. A shrill scream cut through the air.
Lazarro came racing up the stairs behind me, followed by Mr Burke.
‘Hurry!’ said Mr Burke. ‘I don’t –’
BLAM!
He cried out, and I heard a dull thud as he hit the stairs.
Lazarro swore. ‘No!’ he shouted as I turned to look. ‘Go! Keep going!’
He fired back down the stairs.
I kept staggering up until I came to another door.
Unlocked. I pushed it open and an icy wind blasted me in the face.
Lazarro caught up again, practically throwing me out onto the roof. ‘Quick!’ he said, shrugging off his rifle. ‘Take this. Give me the –’
BLAM!
Lazarro fell silent. His mouth opened and closed, a trickle of blood spilling down the side of his chin.
He fell to the ground.
THURSDAY, AUGUST 13, 11.39 A.M. 5 HOURS, 21 MINUTES
Clank. Clank. Clank.
The footsteps were heavy and uneven. Pryor was still coming, but she wasn’t having an easy time of it.
I stood there, stunned, unable to drag my eyes away from Lazarro’s body. Twelve hours ago, I could barely have told you who he was, but now …
Clank. Clank. Clank.
The wind was ridiculous up here. It blasted into me like a cannon, spraying me with rain, almost knocking me off my feet.
Clank. Clank.
The panic finally overtook my paralysis and I stumbled backwards, away from the door. I broke into a run, lugging the missile launcher across the giant expanse of the roof, but where was there to go? Those stairs were the only way down.
The only way down you could survive, anyway.
The antenna loomed over me, so much bigger than it seemed from the ground, thicker than the oldest trees in the bush and impossibly tall. I circuited around it, ducking out of sight just as Pryor emerged at the top of the stairs.
Antenna in front of me. Edge of the building behind, way too close for comfort.
The missile launcher shifted in my hands, slippery with rain. I hoisted it onto my shoulder, staggering sideways as a particularly savage gust of wind blew past, realising what I was going to have to do.
My hands found the twin grips on the underside of the launcher, one index finger slipping around the trigger. My eyes twitched between the antenna and the edge of the roof behind me and the single bulbous missile sticking out of the front of the launcher. I had one shot. One chance to knock out the shield grid. And about ten seconds to make that shot before Pryor came and finished me off.
I edged backwards, putting as much distance as I could between me and the antenna. There was a little plastic targeting thing half-hanging from the launcher.
I pulled it down and stared through the crosshairs.
What are you doing? I thought, body screaming at me to run. You don’t know how to fire this thing! You’re going to blow yourself off the side of the building!
I shoved it aside. No other choice. I had about five hours left anyway if the grid didn’t come down, and failing now meant dooming everyone else in the world with me.
No way was I going out like that. If this really was a one-way trip, then I was at least going to make sure the ending counted for something.
I dropped to one knee, feelin
g the bone scrape against the concrete as I angled the launcher up at the antenna. A bizarre sense of calm fell over me.
Maybe Jordan was right after all. Maybe there really was a bigger picture here, even if it wasn’t the one I would have painted. Maybe I hadn’t been saved from getting murdered just so I could run off into some happily-ever-after.
Maybe I’d been saved for this.
I aimed high, pointing the crosshairs to the top of the antenna. With any luck, it would take out the electrified cords without –
A breathless grunt from behind me shattered my focus. I whipped the launcher around and the sights locked onto a pale and bleeding Pryor.
‘Drop it,’ she coughed, staggering out from the antenna, one hand pressed against her bloody side.
I panicked, pulling the trigger on the missile launcher.
Click.
Nothing happened.
Pryor smiled weakly and took another lunging step.
The safety, I realised. How did you –?
Pryor raised a shaky hand, pointing her pistol at my head. She swayed, almost losing her balance in the wind, and then –
Whump.
I had barely registered the sound of running footsteps before the blurred figure of a man in black threw himself into Pryor, knocking her off her feet.
BLAM!
The gunshot went wide as they flew through the air together, crashing down precariously close to the edge of the roof.
Time slowed. They were still moving, rolling over each other. The guard’s face came into view and I realised it was Lazarro, still alive, and with enough energy left to –
No.
He latched onto Pryor, and together they rolled over the side.
I dropped the launcher, stretching over the edge on my hands and knees just in time to see them thump down against the Shackleton Building’s front steps. It was surprisingly quiet.
Pryor tumbled limply down the stairs, rolling to rest on the footpath. Lazarro lay sprawled on his back, gazing up at the sky. Both of them just bodies now. I started retching, hacking violently, as shouts echoed on the ground. Shackleton’s men rushing over to see what had happened.
When my gag reflex subsided, I backed off from the edge, fumbling for the missile launcher. I dragged myself back to the other side of the antenna, looking the launcher over, trying to figure out where the safety was. My eyes landed on a little switch above the trigger. I flipped it, and lifted the launcher back over my shoulder.
Then came the voices. Reinforcements arriving downstairs. Discovering the mess and the bodies in the office. Spotting the open door up to the roof …
I readjusted the little targeting lens, crosshairs back up on the antenna.
And I hesitated.
It wasn’t just the antenna that looked bigger from up here. The crisscrossing cords of the shield grid were enormous too, thick as my arm and rippling with electricity. What was going to happen when I brought them all crashing down on top of us?
Clank-clank-clank-clank.
The sound echoed up the stairwell behind me. Boots on metal.
Now or never.
Clank-clank-clank-clank.
I dropped down on one knee again.
Clenched my fists, struggling to keep the launcher steady.
Clank-clank-clank-clank.
I aimed high. Fixed the crosshairs up where the lowest cords converged on the antenna.
Felt for the trigger. Felt it give slightly under the weight of my finger.
Clank-clank-clank-clank.
‘HEY!’ demanded a voice behind me. ‘DROP –!’
I closed my eyes and fired.
THURSDAY, AUGUST 13, 11.45 A.M. 5 HOURS, 15 MINUTES
Bright orange light exploded in my peripheral vision.
I whirled around, almost losing my balance on the tree branch. I was climbing again. Not because I thought it was going to get me anywhere. Mostly just because I couldn’t keep still. And because from up in this tree, level with the top of the wall, I could see the top of the Shackleton Building peeking up between the treetops.
My heart was already pounding before my brain had time to catch up with what was going on. An explosion. Something had just detonated in the air above the Shackleton Building.
A huge fireball rose up from the roof, brilliant against the grey sky. I squinted into Calvin’s binoculars, but it was all too far away. In seconds, what little I could see had been enveloped in a cloud of roiling charcoal smoke.
‘Guys!’ I shouted, fists tight on the branches as I peered down at the others. ‘I think –’
But the rest was choked out by a gasp as the shield grid began to shudder above my head, sending sparks raining on top of me. I dropped down a couple of metres, half-climbing, half-falling through the branches.
They’d done it.
The thundering above me grew more violent, the whole grid rolling like someone shaking out a blanket. I looked up, grabbing a branch above my head and leaning out to see better.
‘Keep moving!’ Calvin called up. ‘Get down here!’
The grid creaked and hissed, sparks still cascading down all around me. I dropped down to the next branch, losing my footing in the wet and only just catching myself in time to avoid falling the rest of the way.
And then a new sound. A low, echoing rumble that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside the wall itself. I turned back and saw the cord nearest to me slithering back into the top of the wall, like a power cable getting sucked up into a vacuum cleaner.
The grid was coming down – but not straight down. The cords were shrinking away again, unlacing from each other, retracting the way they’d come. It was a safety mechanism. Of course. Shackleton was cocky, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d clearly put a lot of faith in his shield grid, but if it did come down, he couldn’t have it crushing his precious town. As usual, he had a contingency in place.
I looked down. Still maybe five metres to the ground. The cords might have left the town untouched, but they weren’t going to do the same to the treetops. I could already hear them rustling back through the branches, flailing like the tentacles of some hideous sea monster.
Amy screamed as the cord above me suddenly crashed down into the tree, whipping past only centimetres over my head. I ducked, slipping from branch to branch, falling again, jarring my shoulder as I shot out an arm to catch myself, the whole tree shaking with the writhing of the cord. I caught a glimpse of the end of it, ragged and frayed from the explosion, snaking towards my tree.
‘Jump!’ Amy yelled.
I hesitated, judging the distance, and took her advice. I dropped to the ground, bending my knees to absorb the impact but still jarring both legs. I landed awkwardly on my back just as the cord pulled clear of the tree and out of sight.
For a few seconds, everything was silent. A hand shot out in front of my face. Calvin, coming to help me up.
I grabbed on, skin still crawling a bit at his touch, and he hoisted me to my feet.
‘He did it,’ said Calvin with just the hint of a smile.
I looked up at the sky, wide open again.
‘Here,’ said Amy, handing Tobias back as soon as I was upright. She’d rearranged his blanket while I was up the tree, tying the corners together to create a little sling. ‘For the climb.’
Calvin turned on her. ‘You’re not coming.’
Amy took a couple of steps back.
‘She’s coming,’ I said.
‘We can’t trust her,’ said Calvin. ‘When we reach the release station –’
‘We can’t trust me?’ said Amy. ‘I’m sorry, but –’
‘Yes, well done, you’ve noticed the irony. Be that as it may,’ said Calvin, pulling a coil of rope from the back of the skid, ‘I cannot allow you to jeopardise the success of this mission. You are staying here.’
‘If you think you’re just going to tie me up and –’
‘I don’t,’ said Calvin, slinging the rope over his shoulder. He tracked across to the wall, s
izing up nearby trees, picking one out not far from the tree I’d just been climbing. He reached up, hoisting himself up off the ground, and got to his feet on one of the lower branches. ‘This is as far as I climb until Amy agrees to remain behind. If the two of you believe you can stop Tabitha without my help, then by all means, continue on without me. If not …’
He let the sentence hang in the air, a look of infuriating calm on his face. He had me, and he knew it. And so did Amy.
I reached out to her. ‘Listen –’
‘It’s fine,’ said Amy.
‘It’s not,’ I said. ‘None of this is fine. But if we want to have any shot at stopping –’
‘Yeah,’ she said, shrugging my hand off her shoulder.
‘I get it.’ But then her expression softened a little. ‘Sorry.
I just … It’s been kind of a big day.’
She peered down at Tobias. He stared back at her, smiling. ‘I think he can do it,’ she said. ‘I mean, I don’t know what I even think he can do, but – I don’t think we’re wrong about Tobias. I really think he can fix this. Don’t trust Calvin. Not for a second. But if you can get Tobias out there …’
Again, my mind shook with images of Tobias’s grisly death. And again, I pushed it all aside.
‘I’ll get him out there.’ I reached out to hug her, and this time she didn’t pull away. ‘You just stay safe until we get back. Keep hidden. They’re sure to come looking for us, now that the shield’s down.’
‘Yeah,’ she said as I released her. ‘And listen, if they have a Coke machine at the release station …’ I half-smiled, stomach grumbling at the thought of some actual food and drink. ‘Back soon.’
I checked Tobias’s sling to make sure he was fastened as securely as he could be, and then grabbed hold of the first branch, following Calvin up into the tree.
LUKE
THURSDAY, AUGUST 13, 11.45 A.M. 5 HOURS, 15 MINUTES
BOOM!
I’d barely even felt my finger come down on the trigger before the missile exploded away from me, setting the sky on fire. The launcher slammed against my shoulder, but not nearly as hard as I’d worried it would. Fire and smoke blasted out behind me and I staggered, somehow managing to stay upright.
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