I take hold of the bars, but they won’t budge.

‘Can we get out?’ Kay asks. She’s sticking her head above the water, somewhere around my knees.

I can’t bear to tell her that we’re doomed. ‘I’m not sure . . . there are bars covering the way out.’

‘Can you get them off?’

Even though I’ve already tried it, I grip two of the bars and pull. They don’t even bend. Then I push. Nothing.

‘I can’t do it.’

I need to think. There must be a way out. There must. Ty told Kay that this pipe was used as an escape tunnel. It wouldn’t be any use to anyone if there wasn’t an exit at this end.

‘There might be a different hole somewhere,’ I say. ‘It could be covered up, like at the other end. Feel under the water.’

Kay starts splashing about near my feet. I run my hand around the upright section of the pipe. The cables disappear into a number of holes, but none of them is large enough to be any help. I can’t see any other edges or openings.

‘I can’t find anything,’ Kay says.

‘Maybe there’s a catch on the outside.’ I push my hand between two bars and slide it upwards. It jams at the wrist. ‘It’s a bit tight.’

I feel around the edge of the hole. The bars are attached to a rim. It’s like a lid. It must be designed to lift off. It must. I push my other hand through a gap between the bars on the other side of the hole and I strain my wrists to grip the rim with my fingertips, then I pull. The lid doesn’t move. I feel around again. There’s something sticking out at the side. The lid is bolted on.

I look down at Kay’s hopeful face staring up at me. ‘There’s a bolt,’ I say.

Kay looks blank.

‘A bolt.’ I remember how valuable things like bolts were at the Academy. They called them shrap and wore them as jewellery. ‘Like the shrap on . . . on Ilex’s belt.’ God, I hope Ilex is somewhere safe now.

She nods. The water is up to her chin.

‘I can’t get my hand out far enough between the bars to try to unscrew it.’

‘Let me try. My arms are more little than yours.’ She tries to get to her feet but this upright section is narrower than the rest of the pipe and there just isn’t enough room.

‘You’ll have to back up into the pipe and pass me there,’ I say. ‘Take a deep breath.’

Kay gulps and slips under the water. I crouch down and slide backwards into the now almost full pipe. I open my eyes underwater, but I can only see Kay as a dark blob as she scrambles past me. Once she’s standing, I pull the top half of my body around the bend. I’m in a sitting position. I’m up to my shoulders in water.

‘I can’t reach,’ she says.

‘Climb on my shoulders.’

But she can’t. The pipe is so narrow here that she can’t get her knees high enough to climb up.

‘I’ll go back under the water. You get on my shoulders while I’m down there, then I’ll push you up as I come out of the water.’ I take a deep breath and duck back into the freezing water. I’m so tired and the water rushes up around me in a way that makes me think it’s going to suck me back down the pipe. When I feel Kay’s feet on my shoulders it takes all my energy to force my head above water. I break the surface and gasp for breath. Even as I’m spluttering, I look up. Above Kay’s legs and body, the bars are still in place.

‘I tried,’ Kay says. ‘It’s all watery and my hand is watery.’

‘You need more purchase. Pull your sleeve over your hand.’ I feel like a rock is wedged in my windpipe.

I listen to her struggling and the moment seems to stretch. Water rushes and drips and splashes around me. We’re never going to get the lid off. We’re stuck. There isn’t enough room for us both to fit in the upright part of the pipe. And the water level keeps climbing. All the fear that I’ve been holding down threatens to bubble up and take me over. We’re going to die here in the cold and the filth.

‘I’ve done it!’ Kay shouts.

I look up and the bars have been lifted away. We’re saved! I can get out. Out into space and light.

I grasp a cable in each hand like a rope to pull myself to my feet with Kay still on my shoulders. Once she’s climbed out, she leans back in and sticks out a hand to me.

‘You’ll never get me out like that,’ I say. ‘Move out the way and let me try to pull myself up.’

She retracts her hand. I grip the edge of the hole. I try to heave myself upwards by bracing a foot against the side of the pipe for traction. My arms are shaking. I manage to pull myself up a little, but then my foot skids and I splash back into the water. I try again. There’s not enough room to walk my way up the side of the pipe. Fresh panic knifes through my lungs. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe I’ve come all this way. I’ve crawled through the tunnel of death only to get stuck here. At the exit. Because my stupid efwurding arms are too weak to pull me up.

‘Blake, get out now.’ Kay sounds stern, but her face peering down at me is puckered with worry.

I’ve come too far to die in a pipe. I’ve lost my mother and poor little Ali. I promised the Specials that I would take down The Leader, so that no one would ever suffer in an Academy like they did again. I have got to get out.

I take a deep breath and squeeze all of my energy into my arms and pull and pull . . . and when they start to shake and burn I pull some more . . . and finally I reach the tipping point and I’ve got my head out of the pipe and I know I’m going to do it. Kay grips me under the arms and helps yank me out. I flail like a caught fish. When I’m out as far as my waist, I have to lie gasping for a while before I get my legs out.

After being in the tunnel, the light is so bright it burns. I keep my eyes half scrunched to look around me.

We’re in a very small concrete building. Wires snake all around us: running in and out of holes and sockets. One wall is covered with meters. A symbol like a crooked figure four is scrawled several times on the back of the broken door with spray paint. Rain is pouring in through the disintegrating roof and the protective sleeves on a number of the wires has been torn or even chewed away. I don’t think this place has been used for a long time.

For a moment all I can do is take great shuddering breaths and press my head to the concrete floor in silent thanks that we’re out of that terrible pipe. I never want to be closed in again. I look over to Kay. She’s hugging her knees.

This feels like the first moment of stillness since we escaped.

Everything we need to talk about collides in my mind and all the horrors clog in my throat. Out of my mouth comes just one word: ‘Ali,’ I say.

Kay understands. She crawls across the floor and we wrap our arms around each other.

The thought of brave Ali fading away on the steps outside the Academy burns through me. I should never have included her in my plans to expose The Leader. I shouldn’t have let her get in that lift – and when it broke down and she squeezed through that tiny gap in the doors, I should have told her to run like hell. Instead, she brought us back the override key and, on the way, The Leader’s aide shot her. He was trying to get her to tell him where I was. It’s my fault. I feel the weight of responsibility for another death lodge above my heart, pressing painfully down. I know it will be there always.

Ali didn’t even get to see her brother, Ilex, before she died.

‘What do you think happened to Ilex?’ I ask Kay.

‘I think some good people found him and he is in their house and they’re giving him big lots of food.’

‘Really?’

‘Really yes,’ she says firmly. She’s trying to make me feel better.

The sound of rain on the roof is lighter now.

Everything is a terrible mess. I am so exhausted that I could just sit here and wait for it all to go away, but Kay climbs to her feet and pushes open the door of the building. I hear her sharp intake of breath.

‘What is it?’ I ask, getting up to join her at the door.

I see a vast expanse of bare earth broken up only by the rubble of demolished buildings. The back of my neck prickles.

‘We’re in a nowhere place,’ Kay says.

‘It’s worse than that,’ I say. ‘I think we’re in the Wilderness.’