Eighteen

Chapter 2

Branches crack loudly beneath me, and I think, for the hundredth time, that this is a bad idea. I don’t turn around though. Nothing, not even my subconscious, which is screaming at me to go back home, can stop me from finding my brother. I can’t just sit around waiting for something to happen. Though, after I got slipped that note, something did happen. My numbness faded and turned into something that felt a whole lot more like anger. Why couldn’t we speak our minds? Why did we live in constant fear of being taken? Why was President Williams doing this? I get angry just thinking about her, her slender, pale face and her sleek red hair. I clench my fists hard, my fingernails cutting crescent moons into my palms as I keep walking. When I reach the lodge, I expect to see someone there - but no one is.

‘Hello?’ I call out. But all I hear is the echo of my own voice. I glance around, but there are no signs of life.

‘Hello?’ I say again, but I’m beginning to feel incredibly stupid. I can’t believe I fell for a dumb prank - and not even a funny one. I turn to leave, but then I hear someone. I whip around and see a figure dressed in dark grey standing at the entrance of the lodge. They’re wearing a hoodie and a tracksuit, and their face is covered by a big hood, but I can tell by their build that they’re a girl. I hesitate, looking around one last time before heading towards the girl.The second I reach her, she grabs me. A warm hand covers my mouth and yanks off my hood, and two other hands pin my hands behind my back. I struggle and bite down on the first hand. There’s a shriek and suddenly I can breathe again.

‘She bit me!’ comes a girl's disbelieving voice, ‘she actually bit me!’ She sounds to be around my age, maybe older, maybe younger. I struggle to turn around but hands push my head down again. Someone drags me away from the entrance of the lodge, and shoves me up against a concrete wall - the last one standing.

I blink and a girl comes into focus. She has a sour, pinched face and red hair, orange freckles standing out against her pale skin. I can see another girl standing a bit behind her. She’s wearing the same dark grey as her friend, but her hair is sandy, shiny blonde, brushing her elbows. She’s smiling, her dark brown eyes dancing with mischief and a dimple in her left cheek.

‘Name!’ commands the first girl.

‘Vi,’ says the blonde, ‘we know who she is.’

her voice sounds vaguely familiar, though I’m not sure where I’ve heard it before.

‘NAME,’ snarls the redhead, ignoring the blonde girl.

I don’t say anything. 

‘Fine,’ says the redhead, and pulls out a gun.

Holy shit.

‘Vi,’ says the blonde, exasperated, ‘is there really a need for that?’

‘If she won’t tell us, then we’ll make her,’ says the redhead, pressing the cold, hard, barrel of the gun to my temple. ‘Now. Tell. me. Your. name.’  

‘Sinéad,’ I manage to gasp out .‘Sinéad O’Connor.’

‘Tell me about your brother,’ says the redhead.

‘What?’ the question completely throws me. It’s so off topic and random.

‘I said,’ repeats the redhead, ‘tell me about your brother!’ the barrel of the gun presses harder into my skull.

‘OK!’ I say quickly, ‘Ok. Well…his name is Ash. He was born on December 16th, 2006. He’s fifteen. His middle name is Jonathan. His last name is O’Connor, like mine. His…favourite colour’s green.’

The gun barrel presses even harder into my head. What more does she want?

‘Um…his best friend was Isaac, but he hung out with Morgan and Ryan as well…’ there’s an ominous click. Oh jesus. Oh Jesus I’m going to die.

‘He - he had dreams,’ I gabble desperately, hardly even knowing what I’m saying anymore, ‘he had dreams of life outside the fence. He wanted,’ I swallow, ‘he wanted equality for people of the southside, he wanted to be equal to the elite, he wanted,’ I can feel sweat sliding down my back, ‘he wanted to be able to speak his opinions and voice his thoughts, he wanted so much more than this life could give him, he wanted to make a difference in life, he wanted to be something, wanted to be something more than what was expected of him, he had so many hopes and dreams and…’ I trail off, only just realising that I’ve been talking about my brother in the past tense.

The redhead finally releases me, pulling the barrel of the gun away from my head. ‘It’s her,’ she says grimly. I feel weak in the knees, and have to lean onto the wall to keep myself upright. Now that I don’t have a gun pressed to my head, I can finally think again, and suddenly there’s so many questions swirling around my brain that I don’t know what to ask first.

‘How do you know my name?’ Is the question that comes out. 

‘You’ll see,’ the redhead says maddeningly. She goes over to a spot in the floor and gives it a series of taps. There’s a loud creak, and then a little square in the ground, no bigger than my torso,  springs open. I go over to peer in, but all I can see is darkness.

‘Come on,’ barks the redhead, ‘follow us.’

‘No.’ I say, folding my arms, ‘I don’t think so. Not until you answer me.’

‘I don’t-’ begins the redhead, but the blonde one gets there first.

‘Oh go on, Violet, let her,’ she says.

The redhead - or Violet, as the blonde called her - folds her arms and clamps her lips shut childishly.

‘All right, fine,’ says the blonde girl, rolling her eyes.

‘Hi,’ she says, sticking out her hand to me, ‘I’m Charlotte - sorry for the dramatics at the start,’ she adds, laughing.

‘Charlotte,’ hisses Violet furiously.

‘What?’ shrugged Charlotte, ‘she has a right to know!’

‘Let’s just go,’ says Violet sulkily.

‘Where are we going?’ I ask.

‘I can’t say,’ says Violet loftily.

I fold my arms, feeling a rush of confidence.

‘Well, I’m not going until you tell me,’ I say defiantly.

Violet pulls out the gun, but I don’t let emotion flicker across my face. She wouldn’t kill me. She only looks to be my age - too young for murder.

I stand my ground and look at Charlotte's face. She doesn't look scared, just exasperated. Which makes me think I’m right…

‘If you don’t come I’ll shoot you!’ says Violet threateningly.

‘Go on then,’ I say, now certain that my theory is correct. Violet blinks, and stares at me. Then she shrugs and holds up the gun, aiming it at my leg. There’s a click.

‘Last chance,’ says Violet, and is it me or is there a tinge of desperation to her voice?

I look into her grey eyes and stay where I am.

There’s another click and…nothing. Violet sighs and lowers the gun.

‘It’s empty, am I right?’ I say, feeling triumphant.

‘Yes.’ Violet mutters, and I feel a wave of satisfaction. Charlotte looks at me admiringly.

‘You’ve got guts,’ she says, sounding a little bit awestruck. I feel so happy. I’ve got guts! I’m brave!

‘Can we just go already?’ says Violet, sounding annoyed.

I open my mouth to protest, but before I can, I feel cold hands on my back, and I'm being pushd forward through the trapdoor.