Red Fox (20 page)

I climb inside the shaft and awkwardly twist myself around. I can’t leave the vent hanging open; it would be far too obvious I’d gotten out through it. In my pocket is a large wad of bluetac that I have collected, little bits at a time, from the daily schedules and blood test results that Warden sticks on the facility fridge occasionally. I take the soft putty ball from my pocket and press a few blobs of the bluetac into the corners of the vent niche. Wrapping my fingers into the metal vent, I pull it back into place firmly, thankful the bluetac holds it fast.

Grinning to myself, I twist around and start sliding up the man-made tunnel on my stomach. It is noisy. Even moving as quietly as I can, the vent shudders and clangs at the smallest movement. I can feel the base of it bow beneath me and I pray it will hold my weight. Falling through it would certainly blow my cover.

Like an army soldier scrabbling under a barbed wire fence, I crawl using my elbows for leverage. By the time I’ve covered twenty metres, the skin of my elbows is already rubbing away and the vent is proving itself to be very hot. Sweat trickles down my brow, and I remember the time Whil and I sweated as we hiked up the torturous hill in the Alps and smile to myself.

I shake my head, pushing the image of Whil’s beaming face from my mind, and then I come to a split in the vent system. One path leads forward. The other veers off left.

“Which way?” I murmur to myself, looking forward and then to the left. Both look identical.

Then I feel a gust on my face from up ahead and raise my head to sniff the air. Forward smells clearer, fresher, while the left smells exactly like the branding room, hot and bitter. With a snort, I head forward, shimmying faster. Knowing I only have limited time before Senior notices my bed is empty on his monitor, I go faster, coming to more bends and simply smelling the air to find my direction.

When I’m sweating so much I’m sure I’m leaving a trail behind me like a snail, I finally come to an abrupt stop as I see the exit ahead. There is light pouring in through the slats of a shadowy vent. My heart gives a skip of joy, but an instant later the blood in my veins turns to freezing, cutting sleet. My path to freedom is blocked by another vent grill. I can see the light of a white corridor beyond it. I can smell the scent of the outside world. So, so close but, in reality, so hopelessly far away because the vent that blocks my path will be bolted to the wall.

Aghast, I actually slap myself in the head. Why didn’t I think about this? How could I be so absolutely stupid!

Sorrow floods into my heart. I let my head loll forward in despair, and my forehead hits the bottom of the vent with a clank. Tears of total frustration spring into my eyes.

Perhaps it was good I decided not to bring my friends along. I hate to think of the cruel punishments they would be forced to endure for trying to escape. Then again, my friends wouldn’t have let me execute such a dead-end plan in the first place. Jacob certainly would have foreseen this problem—desperate as I am to escape, I should have seen such an obvious flaw too.

But I’ve come too far now to stop and turn back. I press my eye to one gap in the vent and glimpse a corridor on the other side. I’m certain it is the first corridor we came into, exactly where the main entrance is with the concrete tunnel. I’d never find my way back to the common room through the aluminium labyrinth anyhow. My only choice is to try to bust through this vent and run for freedom without being spotted.

Grunting, I bend and twist my body like a contortionist, until my feet face the vent blocking my path to freedom. With all of the strength I can muster, I smash my bare feet into the metal. A jolt of pain tremors up my legs. The balls of my feet pucker under the metal grids, and to my absolute astonishment, the grate flies away from my feet with a ‘
whoosh whoosh whoosh’
and clatters into the corridor outside. Propping myself up on my elbows, I frown into the bright light that falls into the vent and illuminates the way to freedom.

It shouldn’t have been that easy…

I start to slither forward but I hear a footstep very close by.

“Got her,” someone says loudly.

My heart leaps to my throat. In a fraught panic, I scramble backwards, but a man’s hand reaches up the vent, seizes my ankle, and yanks hard. Screaming, I’m pulled out of the shaft and into the fluorescent light. Several shadowed figures, which my unadjusted eyes cannot see, fall over me. As my pupils dilate, I blink up at three guards towering over my body, all in their stupid red jumpsuits. I glance over at the vent and see I hadn’t kicked the grid out at all. A screwdriver is next to the open vent shaft. The four screws that once held it in place sit neatly by the wall.

They knew I was coming. They knew exactly where I would come out, and they just waited.

“You bastards!” I snarl, jumping to my feet. One of them immediately snatches my arm and holds fast, but I see no reason to run or fight. I’m caught and I cannot possibly attack them and win.

“Easy. Easy,” the guard holding me says in a soothing voice, like I’m a fretful wild animal. He casts a very quick glance at my arm to confirm I’m definitely one of the Bs and then he nods. “Come on. Which facility were you in? Tell the truth, otherwise I can take you to Warden.”

I’d rather face a hundred of these guards next to Warden’s whip. I can’t imagine how many times the horrible leather would lash my flesh if she were the one to catch me trying to escape. Unwilling, but preferring this guard to Warden, I let him steer me away from the vent, my heart transforming into a heavy, cold stone. I failed. My stupidity, my selfishness, my desperation to escape has cost me my freedom and possibly everyone else’s.

“Facility One. How’d you know I was escaping?” I ask broodingly.

“Can’t tell. Not going to fuel your bad habits,” the guard says as he escorts me roughly back towards Facility One.

The corridors are blinding and hurt my eyes. We pass by several rooms on the way back to the facility and I eventually pull the guard to a stop and peer inside one room, which is bustling with activity. He gives a grunt of disapproval, but I know he is one of Seiger’s guards—and Seiger’s guards are much less prone to violence.

Inside the room, there are radios, televisions, and an array of very sophisticated looking people toggling switchboards and adjusting antennas that are scattered over the room. There are cables hanging from ceilings, extension cords snaked over the tiled floor, power plugs overloaded with inputs. All of the radios and all of the televisions are on, even in the middle of the night, and I realise something imperative to the facility must be going on inside. Well-educated looking staff wearing white lab coats wander here and there, checking devices, watching screens.

One of the smart looking men goes over to a microphone sitting on a desk and speaks into it, “Peter, have the riots in Chartreuse settled down yet?”

“Nah, mate,” came the reply in the speaker. “Not yet. Had to shoot a few. They’ll stop fighting; they aren’t going to get away.”

“Warden says the As aren’t that important so don’t worry about sparing them. Just get rid of the troublemakers.”

“What!” I hiss under my breath.

The guard tugs me away from the door while I struggle against him, trying to yank my arm away from his grasp.

“They’re killing the As now?” I say furiously. I pull hard against him, desperate to get back to the room, desperate to find out more. My family are in the As. I thought they were safe, but they might be dead after all. “Let me go!” I snarl.

“Don’t get mad at me. I don’t agree with it,” the guard says defensively but his grip doesn’t loosen. “Come on. Don’t try to escape again. If you do, we will have to tell Warden about it. She’s away at the moment, so she won’t find out and you’ll be spared a pretty brutal punishment. Just don’t do it again. Please, don’t do it again.”

There is an imploring, almost begging tone to his voice that catches me by surprise. I stop fighting against him, and follow obediently, caught off guard by the meaningful edge to his words. I narrow my eyes, searching the face hidden beneath the plastic visor of his helmet. His eyes are distant, as if he might be daydreaming or in deep thought, and his jaw is set hard. I know if I ask what he means, he won’t tell the truth.

Again, I’d had a tiny glimpse of freedom, just like at the Hidden Valley Farm. The guards will likely bar up those vents now. What will my friends say when they find out I was trying to break out without them? I can just imagine the betrayed looks on their faces and I groan. Even though I would have come back for them, they would never believe me or trust me again.

How could I be so heartless and cruel? How could I leave a twelve-year-old in this place, even just for another few days while I found help? And the girl who offered her spouse up for my protection, and the spouse who agreed to that? A strangled cry escapes me and the guard ignores it.

When we reach the door to Facility One, I vow that I will never try to escape without them again but I still feel crippled with terrible guilt. The guard tugs me inside, locks the door and immediately goes over to the vent—Senior has obviously told him that was my escape point. There, he sees the grill, still held in place by the bluetac, and then notices the loose button from my jeans on the floor.

“Ah,” he murmurs, picking the shiny disc up between his thumb and forefinger. “That’s how you did it. Go back to bed, girl. There won’t be any more escape attempts tonight.”

Knowing the guards will be doubling security tonight and working on escape-proofing the facility, I head back to bedroom three. When I open the door, I realise that I’d forgotten to lock it before leaving, meaning Isobelle was vulnerable to predators like Felix during the night. I climb into bed, feeling worse by the second.

Isobelle stirs and turns in her bed to look at me through sleepy eyes. “Where were you?”

My heart feels like it’s shrunken to half its normal size. This place has made me a heartless, self-centred person but it won’t corrupt me anymore. I won’t ever do something so cruel and heartless again.

“Nowhere,” I tell her. “Go back to sleep.”

21.

I stand in the centre of the pool in the courtyard, feeling the warmth of the sun on my shoulders. My jeans are rolled up to my knees and my shins down are submerged in the cool water. The heat of the day is stifling, and my three usual companions, plus Lance, Alex, and Cameron have joined us in the shallows to go over an escape plan—an escape plan that we have organised together and that will allow all of us to escape.

For some reason, none of the other Bs were told about my failed escape attempt two days prior. Maybe the guards didn’t want to put any ideas in their heads, and so they chose to ignore the event altogether. However, the vent is now welded to the wall. To my knowledge, Warden never found out about the vent escape either, which seems oddly mutinous on the guards’ part. Something tells me that she would have approved of my actions. Seiger once said, “Only wild creatures will risk their lives to escape a cage,” and wild is what Warden wants.

The blood tests that were taken two weeks ago came back yesterday. Every female had a clear ‘negative’ result, much to our delight and the Warden’s dismay. Although I try to remain as calm as possible, the thought of the AI lab hovers over my head like a dark black cloud. I have avoided any sort of intimate contact with Jacob, Lance, or Felix, but I know Warden will be at her breaking point soon. The bedrooms are fitted with cameras, which seems perverse, even if the supposed justification is that Warden only installed them so she could monitor our progress.

My progress is still not going well.

It won’t be long until me and one or two of the more reluctant, stubborn women in the facility are dragged into the room for AI. Though Madison’s offer of sharing Jacob still stands, it sickens me, and seems somehow incestuous to my mind, and I wouldn’t touch Felix with a ten-foot pole if my life depended on it.

But I can no longer think only of myself. Isobelle hadn’t told me until yesterday, but she’d had her first blood just five days ago. She’d managed to hide it from Warden. She’s still sleeping on dirty sheets and won’t allow the cleaning staff to change them. She keeps the lights off when she goes to the bathroom so the camera won’t be able to confirm what’s happened to her. So now, Isobelle is in great danger. She knows it and is petrified. We have a dire reason to escape.

So, realising our time was running too short, I’d began developing another breakout plan yesterday. I’d made a promise to myself not to leave my friends behind—so I let them in on it. Using Isobelle’s first blood and her fear of Felix will be our driving point, as well as the soft spot Warden harbours for the youngster.

The sound of the pool filter sucking water into the drain is enough noise to smother our conversation from the ears of the guards. The other B members are scattered about the courtyard, and I catch a quick glimpse of Felix, staring at me with dark, angry eyes. He’s a sore loser. Ever since I stopped him from molesting Alex, he’s taken to glaring at me for most hours of the day.

“Alright, Bell,” I say, turning to the little girl who sits in the shallows with her legs crossed. “Warden is scheduled to talk in fifteen minutes, you have to catch her before she starts. Do you remember what you’re supposed to do?”

Isobelle nods vigorously, and then her bright facial expression suddenly transforms into one of tortured pain. Her bottom lip wobbles hopelessly, and her blue eyes well with tears.

“W-W-Warden,” she sobs, planting her face in the palms of her hands like she can’t contain her hurt. “I-I can’t go on like this. P-Please help me. I’ll do what you want me to do now, I’ll do it with Jacob,” she looks up at me through her tear-laden lashes, “but can you p-please get me somethin’ to remind me of my family. I promise I’ll do what you want from now on, but I miss my parents so much!” She lets out a wail of agony and I slap a hand over her mouth before the entire compound hears her.

I can’t contain my laughter. Her feigned sadness is so realistic! It would fool the most seasoned truth detector. “That’s perfect,” I chuckle, as the girl wipes her wet eyes and gives a devilish smile. “Don’t forget to tell her how scared you were when Felix attacked Alex the other day—so she will know you are desperate to be safe from him, and that’s why you’re willing to sleep with Jake.

“Now, assuming Warden wants you to
mate
with Jacob, she will send a guard to go and get something from your old house to bring back as a keepsake for you. At that point, you have to tell her that none of the horrible guards are allowed to touch this precious item, okay? It’s a long shot, but she does have a soft spot for you and hopefully she will go and get it herself, taking a few of her guards as well. Her being out of the picture will make our attack much easier. If she doesn’t agree to get the item for you, at least try to discreetly find out when she’s leaving the compound next. If we can’t make her leave, we’ll just have to wait.”

I look around the group. Some are sitting on the submerged steps in their swimmers, others are standing on the edge of the water, but we all look very casual lounging about the pool. There is nothing remotely suspicious about us, but I can see the cunning thoughts flashing behind the watching eyes. My friends are ready to get out of this hellhole, but everything depends on Isobelle’s performance, and Warden’s reaction to it.

“Alright, Is,” I say. “Go and find one of Seiger’s guards and ask to see Warden before her speech. If she agrees to the terms, then come back here and speak to Jacob—exactly how we’ve rehearsed. Got it?”

Isobelle stands up and gives a curt, serious nod. “Got it.”

She jumps out of the pool, and I grab hold of her arm. “Look sad,” I remind her.

“I am sad,” she says, and her shoulders suddenly hunch. She pulls away from my grasp, sniffling pathetically and then skulks inside the building, looking like the most miserable person I’ve ever seen. When she vanishes around the corner, I feign a look of concern and turn back to my other companions. “Are you guys all set?”

They give discreet nods, smiling as they do so. We don’t want any of our actions to look even vaguely suspicious, but the excitement seems to radiate from each person like a living thing fluttering in the air. Madison and Jacob are sitting on the steps, holding hands and grinning. Alex and Cameron are poised next to me, though, unlike me, they wear their one piece bathing suits, and Lance is leaning against the willow tree just a couple of metres away.

“Do you have your… utensils?” I ask and then I throw my head back and pretend to laugh. My companions titter as well, but quietly whisper the names of the household weapons they have assembled over the past day; a stick, a spoon, a shard of glass. Lance found a heavy fallen stick from the willow tree, which he hid under the lip of the pool. Alex purposefully interrogated Felix in the bathroom last night, causing him to smash a vanity mirror and scatter glass over the floor. Alex had kicked one of the sharp, jagged edges behind the bathroom door. Then, when the grey clothed people came to tidy up, she hid it in the pocket of her dressing gown.

I managed to steal three silver spoons from the kitchen without being noticed, though now all of the hilts are sharpened to dangerous, dagger-like points. It took a long time to whittle the metal away and create the serrated tips. Jacob, Madison, and I had each taken a spoon and in the evening, when darkness cloaked our bedrooms from the spying eye of the cameras, had rubbed the spoon hilts against the metal legs of our beds for hours on end. It had been hard work to sharpen them, but they are invaluable weapons.

“Jacob,” I murmur, just loud enough so he will hear me. His eyes snap to mine and I see a confident, steely glaze to them—as if fighting is his element. “Tomorrow at midday when the guards are all nearby and we are doing the daily exercises, I think the best way to provoke Felix and start a fight is to say you’ve slept with me.”

Jacob’s face blanches, but I go on, “That will annoy him more than anything. Don’t be shy to boast about it until he attacks you and all of the guards come running. And make sure you do it near the fence!”

Jacob jerks his head in a nod. “Got it. Here comes Bell.”

I look up and see Isobelle coming towards us, sobbing in controlled fits, her entire body shaking. She draws closer and through her tears, she flashes us a smile and gives the tiniest incline of her head. I fight back the triumphant smirk that tugs at the corner of my lips, and pretend to look worried for the young girl as she crouches beside Jacob, whispers something in his ear and the two of them head into the facility together, Jacob with a comforting arm wrapped around her shoulder.

“Perfect,” I hiss. I look around at my friends. “Tomorrow we will be out of this wretched place.”