THURSDAY, JUNE 4
70 DAYS
The staircase took us down to a tiny, empty room, about half the size of the office above it.
The walls, floor and ceiling were all panelled with the same gleaming metal as the stairs. Harsh, bright lights glared down from the roof. A doorway at the other end led into a long, narrow tunnel.
I looked up, visualising the town above my head. The tunnel pointed straight at the Shackleton Building.
We started walking, and I suddenly felt completely exposed.
There was nowhere to hide.
Nothing but tunnel and blinding spotlights.
If anyone else was down here, we were dead.
I looked sideways at Jordan, wanting to ask how the crap she’d known that flicking a couple of power switches would get us into this place. But we were already making too much noise. The narrow tunnel amplified the sound of our footsteps a hundred times.
Every ten metres or so, a security camera pointed down from the ceiling. Even though I knew they were switched off, I still felt like I was being watched. I imagined Pryor making this journey every day, sneaking out right under our feet.
We were getting close to the end of the tunnel now, probably walking underneath the school hall.
There was a door at the end. It slid open as we approached, but not like an ordinary automatic door. This thing was about a foot thick. It clattered into the wall, groaning under its own weight.
‘Whoa,’ I breathed.
The room on the other side was way bigger than the one under Pryor’s office. It was perfectly circular, with more doors spaced around the walls – the entrances to the other tunnels.
But it was what was in the room that really got my attention. It was like stepping into the world’s swankiest bomb shelter.
A row of nine neatly made single beds lined the stretch of wall to our right. One each for Shackleton and his mates. Off to the left, there was a little kitchen area set into the wall, and two frosted-glass doors leading off to what I assumed were bathrooms. Rows of shelves jutted out from the wall on the far side of the room, piled high with boxes and cans of food.
The door clanked shut behind us, resealing itself with a dull thud. The noise reminded me of something, but I couldn’t think what.
‘What do you reckon it’s all for?’ Luke wondered, walking out across the silver floor.
‘Maybe somewhere for them to hide out,’ said Jordan. ‘You know, in case everything doesn’t go according to plan.’
‘Or in case everything does go according to plan,’ I said.
I stood in the middle of the room, looking around for the lift that would take us up to the top of the Shackleton Building.
‘Hey, check this out,’ said Jordan.
Behind us, on either side of the door we’d arrived through, there were about thirty flat-screen TVs mounted to the wall in a giant grid. The screens were all blank, and I couldn’t see any obvious way of turning them on.
‘Part of the security system?’ Jordan suggested, peering up at them.
‘Probably,’ I said. ‘Either that or Shackleton just really likes PlayStation.’
‘We should keep going,’ said Luke. He was pointing to a door on the far side of the room, which I now realised was different to all the others.
The lift.
‘Definitely,’ I said. ‘This place is starting to –’
A deafening, sub-human roar echoed through the room.
It was coming from somewhere outside. Somewhere close.
‘Is that …?’ Luke began.
‘Yeah,’ said Jordan. ‘What should we –?’
‘Hide!’ I said.
‘But he might be able to show us where to –’
Another animal growl rang out, cutting Jordan short. Then more noises that might’ve been gunshots.
‘Does it sound like he’s in a talking mood?’ I shouted. ‘Hide!’
I sprinted across the room. The others followed.
Behind us, a door began clanking open.
I dived under one of the beds, rolling over just in time to see a crazed, scar-faced man come lumbering in through the half-open door.
Crazy Bill.
They’d cleaned him up since the last time we’d seen him, shaved off his hair and beard, and put him in a white hospital gown. But there was no mistaking those disfiguring burns, those rotting teeth, those wild, bloodshot eyes.
Bill limped across the room, tracking bloody footprints across the metal floor. He’d been shot.
Jordan sent me a pained look from the next bed over. I shook my head at her. We couldn’t make this our fight.
Crazy Bill stumbled into the aisle between two shelves of food.
A second later, three security guards came sprinting in, guns drawn. It didn’t take them long to find the trail of blood Crazy Bill had left on the ground.
And then –
‘Don’t shoot!’
Dr Montag burst into the room, carrying a giant syringe.
My dad was right behind him.
I gasped so loud that Luke reached over and thumped me.
Thankfully, the security guys were too busy to notice. They crept across to the shelves where Crazy Bill was hiding, their feet passing inches in front of my face.
‘Out you come, Bill,’ said one of the guards, like he was playing hide-and-seek with a three-year-old. ‘Nowhere to –’
BOOM!
The shelves went flying. As in actually flying. They exploded out from Bill’s hiding place, wiping out the first security guard and sending the other two ducking for cover.
Another set of shelves came crashing down on top of us, crushing the foot of the bed I was under. I shrank back just in time to avoid losing my head.
Crazy Bill let out another furious howl.
I twisted around, trying to see what was going on, but my view was blocked by the wreck of the shelf.
One of the guards let out a shout. It lasted only half a second before it was drowned out by a blast of shattering glass. Something heavy had just crashed into the wall of TVs.
‘How –? How did –?’ I heard my dad stammer from somewhere nearby. ‘Sir, there was no way I could’ve known he was capable of –’
BLAM!
My insides twisted again.
Dad let out a shout. But it was panic, not pain.
Someone had opened fire on Crazy Bill.
‘No!’ the doc ordered. ‘Your orders are to –’
‘DO IT!’ screamed another voice over top of him. ‘SHOOT HIM!’
Officer Calvin had just joined the party.
I rolled across to the next bed, desperate to see what was going on.
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
‘Bruce, no!’ Montag shouted over the gunfire. ‘Noah wants him alive! Order your men to stand –’
There was a crash and a scream and the firing stopped.
Then a clattering, groaning sound filled the room. One of the doors was opening.
Peering out through a gap in the mess of broken shelves, I was finally able to catch another glimpse of Crazy Bill. He was across the room, pushing against one of the doors, ready to squeeze through as soon as it opened wide enough.
Calvin, Montag, and one of the security guards were closing in on him, but none of them seemed to want to get too close. Dad was hanging back even further, looking terrified.
I couldn’t see any sign of the other two guards.
My stomach was doing laps inside me. I watched Dad trying to pull himself together, watched his mouth open and close.
And suddenly, I knew.
He had no idea what was going on here. No idea.
‘Find me!’ Bill screamed, still pressing against the door. ‘Find me under the ground! I have to – we have to go there together!’
And then he was gone. Through the door and up one of the tunnels.
Montag and the guard ran to catch him, with Calvin limping after them on his crutch.
I saw Dad hesitate, stopping at the door and closing his eyes on this nightmare he’d fallen into.
I wanted to call out. I wanted to shout at him to turn around and go home, to get out of there while he still could.
But by the time I opened my mouth, it was too late.
He’d already slipped through the door and run off to join the others.