Pan had no idea how long she slept, but when she woke the sun was arrowing through the half-open door of her room. She sat up and groaned. There was a chemical taste at the back of her throat and her limbs felt heavy, leaden. When she put her feet on the floor pain shot through her head and she gasped. Memories crowded her mind. People in white suits coming towards her, an ecstasy of agony as something thudded into her back, a strange and distant conversation with someone in a room smeared and blurred. She closed her eyes and forced her heart to stop racing. She concentrated on the pulse throbbing in her neck and willed it to slow. She took deep breaths and, finally, her mind steadied and the drumming in her head slowed. Pan opened her eyes.
The cell where she had been imprisoned after her first excursion over the wall with Nate. The same dirty windows. Pan tried to get to her feet and stumbled. She put out a hand and rested it against the side of the bed, closed her eyes, waited for the world to stop rocking. The next time she opened her eyes, everything remained still. She took a deep breath and pushed herself upright. Her legs trembled, but held her weight. She staggered to the open door, and looked out over The School.
The sun was dipping towards the peaks of the far mountains and the snow caps were taking on a pink blush. Pan glanced at her wrist and then remembered she had no watch. What time was it? The School’s grounds were deserted, but they were often deserted. She tried to collect her thoughts. She and Jen had gone under the wall in the early hours of the morning and she had been captured some time later – no more than an hour and probably less – well before dawn. Judging by the position of the sun at least twelve hours had passed. It must be some time around five or five-thirty and students would almost certainly be engaged in their personal development sessions. Unless, of course, she had been out for an extra day. There was no way of telling until she rejoined the student body.
Pan stood for a few more minutes until she felt she could trust her body. Even then, she nearly sprawled headlong when she started the long hike to the dormitories. Her eyes hurt and there was an insistent pain between her shoulder blades. Pan ignored the complaints of her body and moved steadily towards her goal. After a few minutes, she felt more in control and her eyes stopped watering. The relative freedom from pain allowed her to examine her memories in greater detail. A man in the cell with her. A series of questions that she answered fully. Her betrayal of Jen. There was only one logical explanation. She had been drugged.
Why would The School drug her? Again? Because she was getting too close to the truth and they needed to know exactly how much she knew? Well, they’d succeeded if that was the case. What had the man said? They wouldn’t kill her. Maybe that was the truth, but maybe it wasn’t. If Pan had learned one thing it was that the truth was slippery and elusive, that reaching it was fraught with difficulty and dangers. But more than anything else, she couldn’t trust anyone or anything.
By the time she reached her dormitory, she was exhausted. The room was deserted and Pan sank down onto her bed gratefully. Her watch was where she had left it. It was five forty-five. Another forty-five minutes until dinner. Or was her group on the second shift this week? She couldn’t remember. Pan cradled the watch in her palm. The second hand swept round the face, but she saw in its movement something sinister and threatening. Then she strapped the watch onto her wrist. It didn’t matter if she was being tracked. At least, not for the time being.
Pan sat on her bed until the pounding in her head stopped, but she was unable to ease the annoying itch between her shoulder blades. She opened the door to her bedside locker. The torch issued to all the students at The School was long enough to reach the spot and she had to do something before she went crazy.
But she didn’t pick up the torch. There was a piece of paper neatly folded and placed carefully on the torch’s casing. A piece of paper she had not put there. Pan’s fingers reached out to grasp it, but at the last moment she withdrew them. There was something about the paper that made her instincts cry a warning. Whatever was written on it – and she was certain it was a note – Pan was convinced she didn’t want to read it. So she sat and stared at it. This is crazy, she thought. Why am I so scared of a piece of paper? But the feeling did not diminish. Pan couldn’t rid herself of the notion that if her fingers were to make contact with that slim fold of paper they would burn and blister.
After a minute, she shook her head. What choice did she have? It was impossible to close the locker door and pretend nothing was there. It was like the itch. It couldn’t be ignored. It would wait, lurking in the corners of her mind, calling to her. Rip it up? Maybe if she had been a stronger person, that might have been a solution. But, despite the fierce sense of danger, she knew that reading it was something she had to do. Even so, it was hard to stretch her fingers towards the note again.
This time she snatched it up and unfolded it before her will had a chance to waver. Her fingers didn’t burn, but her mind did.
Trust me.
Two simple words. No signature. But Pan knew who had written it. Her skin crawled with the knowledge. Nate. A note from a dead boy. She read it a few more times, as if closer examination might reveal a hidden meaning. Trust me. Had he written this before they left for the island? But that wouldn’t make any sense. Why would he write her a note asking for her trust before they left? It made more sense to assume he’d written this after they’d got back, in which case her suspicion that his death was staged would be confirmed. Trust me. He must have snuck into the dormitory, maybe when the group was up at the Infirmary and everyone else was listening to Dr Morgan’s address. Left the note and slipped away. But why? And why not write a fuller explanation, if he wanted to put her mind at rest?
Pan felt like crying. The more she tried to discover the truth, the more The School seemed to be playing games. Nate was part of the deception, but now he was implying that his role was scripted against his will, that his loyalties lay with her, not with The School. Or maybe he really was dead and this was simply an attempt to create further confusion, mess with her head, an exercise in disorientation. The School at work again.
Pan folded the note and placed it back in her locker. Trust has to be earned, she thought. But no one has earned anything from me. She stood and headed for the door. This must not distract me. There are secrets to discover. This is only one among many. The problem of Nate would have to wait. There were immediate concerns, the first of which was talking to Jen. If Jen wasn’t already aware that Pan had betrayed her presence in the village, she needed to hear it from Pan’s lips. It was a conversation Pan was not looking forward to.
She stepped outside, an itch between her shoulder blades and questions burning in her head.
‘Where have you been, Pan?’ asked Wei-Lin. She seemed more concerned than annoyed. ‘When we woke up this morning, your bed was empty and your watch was on the pillow. I thought we had another Cara situation on our hands. I was worried sick.’
Pan pushed the food on her plate around and tried to force herself to eat. (Trust me.) She was hungry – she was always hungry – but her stomach rebelled against the thin slop in front of her. The remainder of her group had found her sitting by herself when they came into the canteen after their personal development sessions and Wei-Lin had sat next to her before getting herself any food. Now the rest of the group had joined them. Karl and Sam, inseparable as ever, Jen and a still-limping Sanjit. Sam and Karl leaned forward to catch Pan’s reply, but Jen simply bent her face over her own plate and avoided Pan’s eyes. Was that a problem? She would find out soon, she guessed.
‘I went into the village,’ said Pan. ‘Last night. And I got caught.’ There didn’t seem much point in hiding the information, and she’d kept too much from them anyway. ‘They had me locked up for most of today.’
There was a stunned silence, though Pan noticed Jen still didn’t raise her eyes.
‘My God,’ said Wei-Lin. ‘You mean you went over the wall?’
Pan nodded. ‘Well, under it, to be strictly accurate.’
‘What did you find?’ This was Sam, leaning forward, excitement written on her face. Pan thought their reactions were interesting. Not horror or even disappointment that she had broken one of The School’s rules, but curiosity at what she’d found. Was that encouraging? Pan thought it might be. They were her team and they deserved the truth, but she couldn’t bring herself to open up to them about all of her suspicions. Not until she was sure.
‘Not much,’ Pan admitted. ‘Only that their standard of living is better than ours.’
‘Meaning?’ asked Karl.
‘They have TV, electricity, computers. They live in proper houses with comfortable furniture – and perhaps even pets. A long way from the conditions here.’
There was another silence while this information was absorbed.
‘Why would they be treated better than us?’ asked Wei-Lin eventually.
‘I might be able to answer that,’ said Jen. It was the first time she’d spoken. ‘You see, I went with Pandora and saw the things she saw. Difference was, I didn’t get caught.’
But I betrayed you, thought Pan.
Jen mopped up the last of her meal with a piece of hard bread and pushed the plate away. ‘The thing is,’ she continued, ‘although I got back to The School without being caught, they knew.’ She glanced briefly at Pan. ‘I got a visit this afternoon from a member of the Student Representative Council.’
‘And?’ said Sam. All members of the group leaned towards Jen. Jen took Pan’s dish and scraped up the remains of the thin gruel.
‘I was told,’ she said, her voice muffled by a chunk of bread, ‘that the villagers have privileges denied to us for a couple of reasons. It’s true they have computers, TVs, DVDs.’
‘Why don’t we have those?’ asked Karl. Pan could see the longing for computer-time etched on his features. ‘That’s not fair.’
Jen smiled. ‘They go out into the world, risking death to bring back supplies. So it’s a kind of reward for them.’
‘That’s still not fair,’ said Karl.
‘It seems,’ Jen continued, ‘that it’s all to do with the difference between the survivors. We in The School are “humanity’s future”.’ She made quotation marks in the air. ‘So they stuck us in a kind of boot camp. We learn to survive without luxuries because later on, when we go out into the world, we need to be tough and strong. Technology would weaken us.’ She pushed Pan’s empty plate away. ‘It kinda makes sense.’
‘What, the villagers aren’t the future of humanity? Just us?’ said Sam.
‘They are the foot soldiers. We are the elite troops,’ replied Jen. ‘We’re the SAS of the new world, guys. Special training for us.’
‘And you believe that, Jen?’ asked Pan.
Jen looked instead at Wei-Lin.
‘My problem is,’ she said, ‘I don’t know who to believe anymore.’
‘We need to talk,’ said Pan. She’d waited for Jen to come out of the shower. She had an hour and a half of free time and there were explanations to be given, almost certainly an apology. But more than all that, Pan needed to know what Jen was thinking.
‘Okay, let’s talk,’ said Jen. She towelled her hair and then draped the towel over her shoulder.
‘Not here,’ said Pan. ‘Let’s go for a run.’
Jen shrugged. ‘Sure. Any place in mind? On this side of the wall?’
Pan smiled. ‘Yes. It’s a place Nate showed me.’ Her smile froze and her skin tingled. ‘I’d like you to see it while there’s still some daylight left.’
Jen glanced at the darkening sky. ‘Better make it quick,’ she said. ‘You want to leave the watches behind again?’
‘Not this time,’ said Pan. ‘I can’t see the point.’
Jen shrugged. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Lead on.’
After five minutes running, Pan felt the familiar ache in her side. Not having eaten certainly couldn’t have helped, but Pan pushed on and picked up pace. Toughen up, she thought. It’s not your body in charge, it’s your mind. Within a minute or two, the stitch eased and her breathing regulated.
‘You’re getting fitter,’ Jen observed. She kept pace easily and her voice betrayed no sign of tiredness. First Nate and now Jen, thought Pan. I’m destined to be second best to both of them. She didn’t respond. She didn’t trust her lungs to do two things at once. Pan couldn’t trust anything.
By the time they reached the waterfall, the sun had dipped beneath the mountain peaks and the forest was bathed in gloom. The waterfall was louder than before, a consequence, Pan guessed, of the increasing volume of meltwater. Jen stood, hands on hips and looked around while Pan sank to the grass and tried to get her breath back.
‘Wow,’ said Jen. ‘I didn’t know this place existed. This is a different world.’
It was a different world. The magic that Pan remembered from her last visit with Nate was still very much in evidence. The grass beneath their feet was laden with dew. High above miniature rainbows formed as the rushing water caught the last remnants of the light. There was a throbbing sense of power in the air. Everything was a reminder of a time and place removed from the rocky austerity of The School. She’d bring Sam and Karl here, Pan decided. They deserved somewhere they could be on their own, somewhere romantic – romance was in short supply at The School.
‘So what you wanna talk about?’ said Jen. She sat next to Pan on the grass, apparently oblivious to the dampness which had already soaked through Pan’s pants.
‘I told them you had come with me through the wall,’ said Pan. She forced herself to meet Jen’s eyes, though her instinctive reaction was to avoid them. Jen simply nodded.
‘Figured that,’ she said. ‘Either that or someone spotted me as I made my very wet way back to the dormitory. Care to tell me why, Pandora?’
Pan felt better after her confession, but she hadn’t anticipated a question about her motives. The truth seemed unbelievable, but she could see no advantage in lying.
‘I was tasered in the village,’ she said. ‘Then they drugged me. When I came to, I was interrogated. Professor Goldberg, I think, though I couldn’t swear to it. He wanted to know what I already knew about The School. I wanted to resist the questioning but . . . this is difficult to explain. I was drowsy. I couldn’t focus. But I also had an overwhelming urge to tell the truth. I figure it was the drugs. Some kind of truth serum. He asked if I went to the village alone. I told him you came with me.’
Jen plucked a blade of grass and chewed it for a moment.
‘You don’t believe me?’ asked Pan.
‘Tasered. Drugged. Interrogated. Truth serum. I’ll say one thing. You don’t make it easy for me to believe you, Pandora Jones.’
Pan scratched at the annoying itch between her shoulder blades. Then she got to her feet.
‘I don’t blame you,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure I would believe me. But I needed to explain why I dobbed you in. I’ll leave you to decide if you believe me, or not.’
‘Hey, don’t get all pissy on me,’ said Jen. ‘Sit, Pandora. This conversation isn’t over.’
Pan shrugged and sat down.
‘Here’s the thing,’ Jen continued. ‘Either I believe you, or I believe The School. One of you is full of shit and I’m goin’ to find out which.’
‘How?’
‘Ah, that’s the million-dollar question. I have a few ideas, though. That trip under the wall was cold and ultimately pointless, but, hey, it was exciting. I could do with more of that.’
‘Action better than inaction?’
‘Always.’ Jen spat out the chewed-up grass stem. ‘And what’re your plans, Pandora?’
‘I’m going to escape.’ Pan wasn’t sure of the wisdom of this confession, but a large part of her was past caring. Maybe Jen couldn’t be trusted. She might have secrets of her own. Maybe The School was using her for its own purposes, like Nate. For all Pan knew, Jen might have dobbed her in. Ultimately, there was no point second-guessing. ‘I think the virus is a load of crap,’ she continued. ‘I think we were abducted. The world is going on out there as it always has. My mother and brother are alive. Everyone’s family and friends are alive. The only way to prove that is to find them. And the only way to find them is to escape from The School.’
Jen was silent for a moment, and then she laughed.
‘Just when I thought it couldn’t get any weirder, you throw that into the mix. Good on ya, Pandora. At the very least, you’re as entertaining as shit. Tell me, though. I remember the virus. You said you remembered the virus. Now it never happened?’
‘They’ve implanted memories in us. That’s why so many of us remember the same things.’
This time, Jen laughed harder. ‘Where’s a straitjacket when you need one?’ she said.
‘You asked me, I told you. I don’t care if you think I’m crazy.’
Jen got to her feet and held out her hand. Pan took it and Jen pulled her to an upright position.
‘You might be crazy,’ she said. ‘But that doesn’t mean your idea of escape isn’t . . . cool. Decidedly cool. Any ideas how to do it?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Let me know. Maybe I’ll be of some use. And if you’re going, I’m coming with you.’
‘Why?’
Jen smiled and spread her arms. ‘Why not?’