Doomsday Page 16

  ‘Friends forever,’ said Chew. ‘Got it.’

  Kirke stomped on the accelerator and the skid lurched forward, engine roaring. We shot up the road, bushland melting into a green-grey smear, bodies crushing into each other as we were thrown to the back of the cage.

  The town raced up to meet us. We rocketed over the threshold where the trees gave way to houses, straight up Phoenix’s only asphalt road, town centre dead ahead.

  Past my old street, past the house where Jordan and I had hidden out all those weeks ago, all of it blurring together the same way it did in my head. I held my breath, waiting for the first gunshots.

  The park whooshed past on my left, and suddenly we were threading the gap between the medical centre and the exploded shell of Phoenix Mall, the Shackleton Building towering over all of it. Our skid bucked and swerved as Kirke dodged the worst of the wreckage and ploughed straight over the rest. Bits of debris kicked up from the tyres, bouncing off the riot shields.

  The second we cleared the medical centre, rifle fire surged from somewhere out of sight. Hamilton cried out as the bullets sprayed across his shield, cracking the plastic right in front of his face.

  ‘Hold!’ Lazarro barked.

  He was okay. The gunfire hadn’t made it through. Not this time, anyway.

  SMASH!

  The skid charged straight into the razor-wire fence guarding the entrance to the Shackleton Building. My head jolted up, smacking into the thing on Lazarro’s shoulder. More gunfire, from multiple shooters now. I heard gasps and screams, but we were too packed together to tell if anyone had actually been hurt.

  The skid shuddered against the fence and then finally pushed through it, dragging down a whole section and rampaging over the top. Kirke swerved around the fountain on the other side and punched the accelerator, speeding us towards the steps of the Shackleton Building.

  And finally, I caught a glimpse of one of Shackleton’s men. He peered up from a garden bed at the bottom of the steps, lining us up with his rifle.

  ‘Kirke!’ Reeve shouted, spotting him. ‘On your left!’

  Kirke’s head twitched to the side, but it was already too late to change course. Cracks splintered across the riot shield at the front of the skid as the guard pulled the trigger. Kirke jolted in his seat, but held the wheel steady. The skid’s massive tyres hit the steps of the Shackleton Building and started roaring up them.

  Then disaster. The guard fired again, attacking from the side as we hurtled past him. Blood spattered the inside of Kirke’s shield. He slumped over the wheel. The guard kept shooting, and the skid rocked violently as a tyre exploded under my feet. Chew’s riot shield flew from his hands, disappearing behind us.

  The automatic doors at the top of the steps slid open as we approached, but didn’t get ten centimetres apart before they were smashed to pieces. Glass rained down on us. The skid veered, tipping onto two wheels, smashing through a table and a couple of benches and crashing sideways into a row of portable toilets before winding up on all fours again, still moving, spinning out of control, until we finally crunched to a stop against the wall.

  ‘Out!’ Reeve shouted, pushing open the back of the cage. ‘Everyone out!’

  I looked up to the front of the skid. Kirke was gone. Left behind somewhere in the crash.

  I turned to get out, but then Chew shoved past me, almost knocking me over. He leant out over the side of the cage, raising his rifle.

  The noise ripped through my ears.

  Back at the entrance, a man fell to the ground, dead. The guard who’d shot Kirke had been coming back for the rest of us.

  Chew looked ready to throw up. ‘Harris, you dumb bastard. What’d you make me do that for?’

  He knew him, I thought, falling out of the cage, shaky but miraculously uninjured. Of course he did.

  Twenty-four hours ago, they might have been on duty together. They might have been friends.

  I ducked next to Katie, but she didn’t even register that I was there. She was too fixated on her husband, already weaving his way across the giant, high-ceilinged foyer-turned-concentration-camp, holding up his riot shield in one hand and unclipping something from his belt with the other. Wilson and Hamilton were right behind him, zig-zagging through the sea of tables and chairs that had all been quickly abandoned when the explosions started going off last night.

  ‘No,’ said Katie, as I stood to go after them. ‘He said to wait here.’

  ‘But –’

  BANG!

  At the far end of the foyer, a set of double doors flew open and a half-dozen guards leapt out. The sound of a terrified crowd spilled through the doorway behind them. The people of Phoenix, crammed together inside the town hall with who knew how many armed men keeping them under control.

  Shackleton’s guys spread out, opening fire. Reeve and the others kept moving, while Lazarro, Chew and Saunders all jumped up from behind the skid to help cover them.

  There was a strangled cry from across the foyer and one of Shackleton’s men collapsed, clutching his leg.

  ‘Idiot!’ Lazarro snapped at Chew. ‘Any minute now, we’ll be asking them to join us. Don’t shoot them unless –’

  ‘Unless what?’ said Chew. ‘And it wasn’t even me! It was Saund–’

  He looked sideways just in time to see Saunders jolt back and crumple to the floor. I leapt out of the way as he fell, heart thumping into my throat. He was gone.

  Lazarro swore. He fired again. Across the foyer, I saw Shackleton’s guys digging in, taking positions behind whatever cover they could find.

  Reeve stopped maybe twenty metres out from us. He dropped down behind a table, pulling his whole body in behind his barely-intact riot shield, and hurled a silver canister over his head at the guards. It was a smoke bomb, like the one they’d used back at the house. Hamilton and Wilson followed suit, and in seconds, a murky black cloud was spreading out across the foyer.

  ‘GO!’ Reeve shouted out of the darkness. ‘GO! GO!’

  ‘You heard him!’ said Lazarro. ‘MOVE!’

  I jumped up, almost knocking over Mrs Weir, who was supporting Mr Weir over her shoulder. It looked like he’d twisted his ankle or something in the crash.

  ‘More coming!’ said Katie breathlessly, looking back at the front steps as the smoke began swirling over us.

  ‘Get out of here,’ Mr Weir grunted, shooing me away.

  I ignored him, rushing to his other side and helping Mrs Weir steer him around the skid unit. I almost dropped him again as someone came charging through the smoke towards us.

  It was Reeve. He dashed past, throwing an arm over Katie, covering her with the riot shield, then glanced at Mr Weir, taking in his injured leg. ‘Are you guys –?’

  ‘We’re great,’ said Mr Weir. ‘C’mon, I’ll race you.’

  We hobbled as fast as we could, barely dodging tables and benches and random other obstacles as they loomed up out of the smoke. Reeve and Katie tried to hang back with us, but it wasn’t long before we lost them.

  Gunfire blazed around us, flashes of lightning in the swirling cloud. I flinched every time, expecting the bullets to come tearing through me, throwing me to the ground in a bloody heap, just like Kirke, and Saunders, and the guard across the foyer, and the one back at the school, and –

  An agonised scream rang out across the room, then stopped. Another one. Gone.

  ‘Keep going,’ Mr Weir urged. I hadn’t even realised I’d stopped.

  We limped around the last couple of tables and either the smoke was thinning out or we were getting to the edge of it, because when the doors to the town hall burst open again and another armed guard came barrelling out in front of us, I had no trouble seeing him.

  ‘Steve!’ said Mr Weir, locking eyes with the guard. He straightened on his good leg, pulling his arm from my shoulder to reach for his rifle. Too slow. ‘Steve – C’mon, mate. You don’t want to –’

  The guard raised his own rifle and Mr Weir froze.

  He stared at us
, stony-faced – then almost jumped out of his skin at a sudden burst of shrieks and gasps behind him.

  A huge shape blurred through the doors, bodyslamming the guard to the ground. The figure sprung back to his feet, grabbed Mr Weir, and threw him over his shoulder. Then he bolted along the back wall in the direction of the lift. ‘This way!’

  It was Mr Burke. Jordan’s dad.

  Mrs Weir and I stared at each other, still trying to work out what had just happened.

  A flash of movement inside the hall snapped me out of it. More guards coming. I grabbed Mrs Weir’s arm and sprinted for the lift.

  THURSDAY, AUGUST 13, 11.14 A.M. 5 HOURS, 46 MINUTES

  ‘Come on, come on, come on, come on!’ said Wilson as we tore up the last few metres to the lift. He and Reeve were standing at the doors, shields up to guard everyone inside. They split apart, letting us in, and then Reeve hammered the close button.

  The lift slid shut, muffling the noise from the hall. From the sound of it, some of the other prisoners had taken Mr Burke’s breakout as their cue to do the same.

  Reeve hit another button and the lift jolted upwards. I did a quick head count. Ten of us, counting Mr Burke. We’d managed not to lose anyone else since the smoke bombs went off.

  ‘Thanks for the lift, mate,’ said Mr Weir, as Mr Burke lowered him to the floor. ‘And listen, sorry for leaving without you last night. You know we would never have –’

  ‘Of course,’ said Mr Burke. ‘Where are the others?’ ‘Most of us were captured,’ I said, breathing hard. ‘Taken down to Shackleton’s bunker.’

  ‘So that’s where we’re heading?’ he said.

  I hesitated, not wanting to be the one to tell him no. Mr Burke was the most gentle, kind-hearted guy you’d ever meet, but he was also huge and imposing and fiercely single-minded about the safety of his family.

  ‘It’s on the list,’ Reeve jumped in. ‘First we need to disable the shield grid, then we need to get to the loyalty room, then we can see about –’

  ‘We should split up,’ said Lazarro. ‘While they’re still reeling. Won’t take them long to get the crowd back under control, but while they’re doing it, we have an opportunity.’

  ‘Up to the top first,’ Reeve insisted. ‘We need that shield down. Until we’re sure we can –’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Mr Burke broke in, sounding the complete opposite of sorry, ‘but if you expect me to cooperate with a plan where my wife and kids are priority number three –’

  He silenced himself as we slowed to a halt at what was allegedly the top floor. There was a clatter around the lift as everyone grabbed hold of their weapons.

  Reeve and Wilson hoisted their shields back up in front of the doors. I squeezed the handle of my rifle, just needing something to hold onto.

  The lift doors opened to reveal the reception area. Wide hallways ran out to our left and right, leading off to offices for all of Shackleton’s top guys. Everything was silent. Abandoned. Reeve and Hamilton stepped cautiously out onto the carpet, shields up.

  ‘That way, right?’ said Mr Burke in a whisper, getting out after them and pointing down the corridor to our right.

  Katie nodded. She and Mr Weir had worked up here, back in the day.

  The lift we’d been in only ran from here to the ground floor. To get up to the roof or down to the bunker, we’d need to take the other lift – the secret one outside Shackleton’s office.

  ‘We won’t get to the bunker that way, though,’ I breathed, knowing what Mr Burke was really asking. ‘That lift was locked out from the basement level last night, so unless anything’s changed since then …’

  ‘Let’s get the shield grid sorted first,’ said Reeve, voice low. ‘Once that’s out of the way –’

  ‘Doesn’t take ten of us to navigate an empty corridor,’ said Lazarro, joining them outside. ‘Come on, Matt. Waste of time for us all to go up there.’

  ‘You know what else is a waste of time?’ said Chew, getting jittery. ‘Standing around talking while –’

  ‘I might be able to override the lift,’ said Mr Weir. ‘If I can get to a computer …’

  ‘We’ll need numbers to take the cafeteria later,’ said Reeve, still talking to Lazarro.

  ‘You need soldiers,’ said Lazarro, rolling his shoulder under the weight of the missile launcher. ‘Numbers are only good to you if they know their way around a gun. Look, I’ll take these guys – Luke, the Weirs, and the Incredible Hulk, here. We’ll deal with the grid, then see what we can do about getting into the bunker. Every chance Shackleton will be down there, anyway. You guys head for the cafeteria.’

  Everyone shut up, waiting for Reeve’s decision. Gunfire rattled up through the floor beneath our feet.

  ‘Okay, yeah,’ he said finally. ‘Go.’ He turned to his wife. ‘Did you want to –?’

  ‘No,’ said Katie, eyes set. ‘I’m with you.’

  ‘Right,’ said Reeve. He and the others stepped back into the lift, and the Weirs, Mr Burke and I started down the corridor with Lazarro. ‘See you all soon.’

  The doors slid closed. I felt a ripple of fear as they disappeared, knowing I might never see them again.

  We headed towards the other lift, down the alltoo-familiar corridor lined with the creepy red-brown abstract artworks Shackleton painted in his spare time.

  ‘How did you get out?’ whispered Mr Burke, running a hand through the tangle of dark, curly hair that had overtaken his formerly-shaven head. ‘If the others were all captured …’

  ‘Long story,’ I said. Then, deciding it was going to come out soon enough anyway: ‘Jordan got out too. She’s gone out to the wall with –’

  ‘Shh!’ warned Lazarro, coming to a sudden stop.

  Muffled voices, somewhere out behind us. I couldn’t see anyone yet, but –

  ‘In here!’ hissed Mr Weir, pushing open the nearest door. The word PRYOR was stencilled next to the handle.

  The room was almost identical to Pryor’s principal’s office. Giant wooden desk with a computer in the corner, an ornate rug underneath – but this office had a huge oil painting of a phoenix in place of the tapestry she’d had back at school.

  ‘Here, hold this,’ murmured Lazarro, unstrapping the missile launcher from his shoulder and thrusting it into my hands. He stood back from the door, rifle raised, the scar on his cheek folding in as he smirked at the look on my face. ‘Don’t worry. Won’t hurt you with the safety on.’

  I stood to the side, hefting the launcher against my chest, straining to hear as the voices outside drew closer.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said a nervous voice, ‘I understand that. But those were his orders.’

  ‘To lock down a facility you are not even authorised to access unaccompanied? To compromise our ability to navigate the town at this critical hour?’

  The voice was sharp, aggressive and all too familiar. Ms Pryor. We had chosen the wrong office.

  ‘Sir, you have to believe me,’ said the first voice, closer now, and I realised it was Officer Cook, one of Calvin’s guards from the Vattel Complex this morning. One of the guards who was supposed to be keeping Shackleton away from Mum and the others. ‘I realise how it sounds. I had my own doubts about the orders, but –’

  ‘But you still did what Calvin told you,’ finished Pryor.

  ‘Sir – It was Calvin,’ said Cook, exasperated. ‘If I’d kept arguing –’

  I held my breath as the footsteps padded closer. There were more than just two of them. Whoever the others were, they weren’t speaking. Probably more guards. I doubted Pryor would be going anywhere without an escort today.

  My hands grew slippery against the missile launcher, my mind flashing down to the bunker. What was going on in there? If Cook was up here chatting with Pryor …

  The footsteps stopped, just outside our door.

  Mr and Mrs Weir raised their weapons. Mr Burke stood behind them, unarmed, but still just as menacing. None of it made me feel any better. They had at least as many guns as
we did. We weren’t getting out of here without a bloodbath.

  ‘You are extremely fortunate that Mr Shackleton is too caught up at the medical centre to come after you for this,’ said Pryor, in a voice that said she was feeling pretty fortunate about that herself.

  ‘Y-yes, sir,’ said Cook uncomfortably.

  I felt a tiny trickle of relief. A bucket of water on a housefire. If Shackleton was across town in the medical centre, then at least he wasn’t doing anything to hurt –

  But then, what if that’s exactly what he was doing? What if he’d hauled Mum or Mrs Burke or Georgia out there to interrogate them or experiment on them or …?

  ‘Get back down there,’ said Pryor. ‘Keep the prisoners in line until he comes for them. Keep Louisa in line. Give Shackleton every reason to forget this morning’s mistakes. And give me no reason to remind him.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Understood,’ said Cook, and I heard his footsteps fade back out the way we’d come.

  I watched the door, waiting for it to move. Waiting for the tiny creak of the handle that would make this whole place erupt in fire and blood.

  Instead, I heard more footsteps. They were fading.

  Continuing up the corridor towards Shackleton’s office. The corridor went quiet again.

  I waited, still hardly daring to breathe, not ready to believe that they were really all gone. But the silence stretched out.

  Finally, Mr Burke started towards the door.

  ‘Give it a minute,’ said Lazarro, holding out a hand.

  Mr Burke glared down at him, obviously in no mood to be taking orders from a guy in a security uniform. But he backed off, rounding on me instead. ‘You said Jordan was out at the wall. Why? What’s going on out there?’

  ‘She’s with Calvin,’ I whispered. ‘And Tobias. They’re –’

  ‘With Calvin?’

  ‘No, it’s okay,’ I said, hoping I was telling him the truth. ‘He’s helping her. Well, he seems to be. He hasn’t hurt her, at least.’

  ‘It does sound like he and Shackleton aren’t on the same page anymore, doesn’t it?’ said Mr Weir, jerking a thumb out at the corridor.