The Disappeared (8 page)

‘Oh, that’s all right, I really don’t mind about the ranking – you can just put me at the bottom. You can leave me off the list altogether,’ I say.

He squints at me. I feel like I’m talking Cantonese in this place. ‘You talk good,’ he says, like it’s something horrible. ‘Do you fight good?’

‘I don’t want to fight,’ I say.

He shakes his head at me and walks away into the centre of the circular floor.

‘Hey all,’ he shouts. ‘Hey Reds, Hon Reds and the crimson Dom . . .’ A strawberry-blonde girl in the crowd stands up and blows kisses. Rex pauses to leer at her, then goes on. ‘This fight is Deon Collins . . .’ A squat boy, built like a bull, leaps out of the front row of seats. ‘And first-fight boy Blake!’

The Specials scream and shout and Deon walks towards me. His walk turns into a charge. I jump to my right just as he reaches me, but even so he smacks into my left side with such force that it spins me round. I spread my arms, try to regain my balance and . . .
crack
! He punches me in an upwards movement under the chin. It feels like my head has snapped off my neck. I fall backwards and taste blood from where I’ve bitten my tongue.

Get up!
I think. I don’t know why I worried about my arms being too weak; at this rate I’m not even going to get to swing a punch. I struggle to my knees as Deon is gesturing to the crowd that he’s going to grind me into the ground. He powers a punch into the side of my face. Just how mangled will I have to be before they call it off? My head is ringing.

I’m going to be beaten to a pulp. Again.
Think
. I can only remember one thing about fighting and that’s a conversation between the girls at the Willows about self-defence. I’m swaying on my knees and Deon is towering above me, jeering and yelling out to the crowd while he’s deciding how to finish me off.

So I take the only piece of combat advice I’ve ever been given and punch him in the balls.

Luckily for him he realises at the last moment what I am going to do. So he doesn’t get the full force of my noodle arm. But he does crumple over and lie clutching his stomach. I get to my feet. Someone in the crowd is booing. Have I broken some rule? But someone else in the crowd catches my eye. He’s miming for me to kick Deon. I look at my opponent. It seems unfair to kick him while he’s down. Couldn’t we just finish it here? I look about for Rex. He’s talking to the pretty strawberry-blonde girl and has his back to me.

Umppff!
Deon flings his arms around my ankles and yanks my legs out from underneath me. I crash down, crunching my shoulder against the ground so hard that I cry out. Deon doesn’t stop to wonder whether it’s ethical to kick a man when he’s down, he just lays into me.

All of a sudden I’m back in the corridor with those men, thinking that I’m going to die. But I survived that and I’ll survive this. I’m not going to die here. I’m not going to be forced into some dirty little brawl with a boy I’ve never even spoken to. I scramble to my feet and try to run for the door.

But he won’t let me go; he’s caught hold of the back of my shirt. I thrash wildly, trying to pull away from him. We veer so close to the front row of the crowd that I see some of them drawing their feet up out of the way. Deon is still trying to pin my arms down or to land a punch on me, but I just keep moving. I put my head down and thrust an elbow backwards into his stomach. There’s not enough power to really hurt him, but it makes him wobble backwards and trip over someone’s extended foot. He falls, trying to take me with him, but my shirt tears out of his hand.

‘Idiot,’ he says as he goes down and, as soon as he hits the ground, I throw myself on him. I kneel on his chest and smack him around the head as hard as I can. Then I hear the sound of the whistle and Deon pushes me off and stalks away. I try to stand up without letting anyone see how much I am shaking.

Rex appears and lifts my arm. I’ve won. I think Rex missed most of the action while he was chatting up the girl called Dom, so I’m not sure he’s best placed to make a decision, but still . . . I won. I feel almost pleased.

‘Not bad,’ says Rex. ‘You look angry now. You fight gooder angry.’

Damn right I’m angry. Nobody calls me an idiot. Especially in here.

My pleasure drains away as soon as I walk off. I can hardly move, I hurt so much. I’ve never been in a fight before and in the past few days I’ve been attacked twice. I’m tired and I realise that I really need to work out what I am going to do to get out of here. I head for the door, but I spot Ilex sitting a few rows back. He waves me over. I clamber between Specials and squeeze into a space beside him.

‘You’re not good,’ he says.

‘I don’t really care if I was good or not. It’s ridiculous,’ I say, ‘forcing someone to fight. I object to being treated like a stupid bull. Look at all this.’ I gesture to the room.

The next two competitors are up. Two girls. Surely they’ll be less aggressive? The whistle blows and the taller girl screams, ‘Take that, you tight-legger!’ and kicks the other girl in the face.

This is horrible. The Specials’ noise rises to a roar.

‘It’s bedlam,’ I shout to Ilex. ‘Where are the enforcers?’

‘No enforcers at fights.’

‘Well, I’m not doing it again.’

‘You have to. It’s gooder if you just let them win you in little time.’

‘We shouldn’t put up with this,’ I say. ‘Why don’t people say no to the Reds?’

‘You can’t fight the Reds.’

I turn to look at him properly and I realise that there’s a little girl of about seven or eight sat next to him. She’s leaning her head on his shoulder.

‘Who’s this?’ I say.

Ilex looks down at her and his face softens.

‘This is my sister, Ali,’ he says.

‘Hello, Ali,’ I say.

She stares up at me.

‘Ali is no talking,’ Ilex says.

‘Do you mean she’s shy in company or that she’s a mute?’

Ilex shoulders tense and he repeats firmly, ‘Ali is no talking.’

‘Okay, okay. I was just asking why not?’ I’m thinking that maybe those stories about the inbreeding between factory workers producing sub-normal children are true. But I notice Ali’s bright eyes flicking between me and Ilex. She’s paying attention.

Ilex struggles for words. ‘I don’t think she likes it here.’

I almost laugh. Does anyone like it here? ‘Do the little kids have to fight too?’

‘All Specials fight,’ Ilex says.

I look at Ali. I can tell by her face she doesn’t enjoy fighting either. She’s got pathetically thin arms and her eyes are massive in her pale face. I don’t think she’s getting enough to eat.

‘I’m not doing any more. I don’t care about their ranking,’ I say.

‘You should think about ranking. If you’re a good-ranker then it’s more good.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Some more foods. And the Reds don’t hit you. You can be a Hon Red and go to their meetings.’ He leans in close to me. ‘They have food there too.’

‘Delightful as that sounds, it seems unlikely that I’m ever going to be a high-ranker – so what’s the point in me fighting?’

‘They hit you if you don’t.’

‘I’m going to get hit if I do.’

Ilex spreads his palms. ‘I fight to not be bottom-ranker. It’s not good to be bottom-ranker. No Special likes you. And they make you do things.’

‘What things?’

‘Things that make trouble with the enforcers. And one time or two time I’m thinking that Specials the Reds don’t like were sent out to the Wilderness.’

There are lots of stories about who gets sent to the Wilderness. Crazies and criminals and even terrorists who are plotting to overthrow the Leadership. There’s probably some truth in those rumours, but I refuse to believe that a bunch of school kids have got the power to have other kids sent into the Wilderness. I’m too tired to even think about it at the moment.

I look around the room. The girl called Dom is on her feet, shouting to the fighters. She’s one of those girls you can’t help looking at.

Ilex follows my gaze. ‘All the boys think she’s crimson.’

She’s got very long legs. Her hair is shiny and her breasts push up against her shirt, but there’s something strange about her torso.

‘I don’t know, she’s a bit of a funny shape. Her belly . . .’

‘She’s got a baby belly.’

‘A what?’ I look again at her rounded abdomen. ‘You don’t mean? She’s not . . . she’s not having a baby, is she?’

Ilex nods and turns back to the fighting. How can he be so casual about something like that? I stare at Dom. I’ve never seen a pregnant teenager before. I thought babies were always born to married parents. I don’t even know anyone who’s had sex. At the Learning Community having sex would have been completely impossible. Firstly, you’d never have found a girl willing to sacrifice everything to do it with you and secondly, as soon as you were found out, that would be your whole life ruined.

Ilex doesn’t even seem to realise how serious this is. Or maybe it’s not so serious here. They do say that Academy kids are wild and reckless. Or perhaps this is another Red thing? One thing is for sure, when the enforcers find out, Dom will be in big trouble.

I’m jolted by a blast on the whistle. The fighters are finished and Rex is holding up the arm of the tall girl with ginger hair and freckles.

‘The winner is our Red, Shannon!’ Rex says.

I look at Rex and the Red girl and then at Dom and I remember what Ilex said about being born a Red. My mouth drops open.

‘Ilex,’ I say, ‘what did you mean when you said you’re born a Red?’

‘When you are a baby they know it. Reds have—’

‘Red hair,’ I finish.

This is crazy. The Academy hierarchy is based on hair colour. It doesn’t matter how smart I am, I won’t ever be successful here because I’m not ginger.

‘That’s stupid,’ I say to Ilex. ‘Being red-headed doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a good fighter.’

‘Shh,’ Ilex says and looks around to see if anyone is listening. ‘Reds say that they’re different. That they are made different, more gooder.’

‘You don’t think that, do you?’

‘The thing isn’t what I think. The thing is what the Reds think. They’re in charge.’

‘Let me tell you, when you leave the Academy and go out into the real world it won’t be like that.’

‘We don’t go real worl’. We go to the factory.’

‘Yes, of course, most of you—’

‘No. All Specials go to the factory. All Specials same working.’

Of course I knew that Academies provide factory workers, but I think I imagined that Academy Specials would be matched with a job in the same way that Learning Community students are. Ilex seems to disagree.

‘You know that the Reds won’t be in charge at the factory, don’t you?’ I ask.

Ilex looks me up and down as if he suspects I am winding him up. ‘Where do you go when you are seventeen at your brainer place?’

‘We don’t leave school at seventeen like Specials. We leave when we’re twenty-one. Then we get jobs in the Leadership.’

‘Is it no Reds in charge there?’

‘No.’

He shakes his head like he doesn’t quite believe me.

I lean back in my seat. Suddenly the hall falls silent. Everyone’s attention is focused on a dark-haired boy who has just walked in. I stare too. His face is purple and swollen. He looks even worse than I do. His eyes are slits in the swelling and his nose is puffed up like a balloon. Out of the silence comes a faint tapping sound. I swivel round, trying to locate its source. It gets louder. A chinking. Metal on metal. Then it’s all over the hall. I look at my neighbours and see that they’re tapping together little bits of metal. Everyone is doing it. Even Ilex and Ali.

The Red who has just won her fight walks over to the purple-faced boy and lifts his arm. The hall erupts in cheers. Then the boy is led to a seat and the next fight is introduced.

‘What was that?’ I say.

‘What?’ says Ilex, as if nothing unusual has just occurred.

‘Who is that boy? Why did you make that noise?’

‘He is Lanc. We do the . . .’ He taps a metal washer against a nut that has been driven through his belt and fastened with a bolt. ‘We do the thing to say we think he is not scared.’

‘Not scared of what? Falling on his face?’

‘Enforcer Tong hit his little brother.’

‘From what I’ve seen of Enforcer Tong, I can well believe it.’

‘Lanc hit her back,’ he adds.

I suck in my breath. I’ve been here long enough to know that hitting an enforcer would mean big trouble. ‘Did
Tong
do that to his face?’

Ilex shakes his head. ‘The impeccables. Maybe Rice too.’

I think about being locked in a room with Rice and a brute squad.

‘You mean he’s brave,’ I say.

‘What?’

‘When you did your tappy tappy, it’s because he’s brave. When someone is not scared to do something like that, it’s called brave.’

‘I’d like some brave,’ he says.

I look down at Lanc in the front row. I gently touch my own sore eye. I wonder if getting your face kicked in hurts less when you’re brave.

‘I need to sleep,’ I say. Ilex nods.

I raise my hand to Ali. ‘Bye, Ali,’ I say and, to my surprise, she raises her hand in reply.