Alexander Smith - Lockdown

The thin, wet cry from the canteen had coated Donovan's every word, leaving me with a gut-wrenching mixture of frustration and fury and fear. I couldn't work out which emotion was which, they all sat like unwanted guests in the pit of my stomach. I looked at Zee but he still wouldn't meet my eyes. I called his name, gently, and he raised his head like it was made of stone.

"I want to help him, but…" He trailed off. "If this was at school, y'know, I'd do what I could. But we're a long way from the playground."

The moan behind me changed pitch into a shriek and this time I couldn't help myself. I glanced over my shoulder and saw one of the Skulls grinding his foot down while the other flicked slop from a ladle onto the unseen figure below.

"What about the guards?" I asked. "Surely they don't allow this."

"They don't care," said Donovan. "Nobody cares. You shouldn't either."

But I did. Every fiber of my body wanted to step in and help, and every fiber of my body wanted to stay on that bench and forget it was happening. I thought that any minute I'd literally be torn in two, reduced to a quivering, bloody mess on the canteen floor.

It was the smallest of things that made up my mind. One of the Skulls looked up at his friend and flashed him a wicked smile. It was an expression I knew well, I'd worn it a thousand times at school after getting a good haul. Looking at it now was like staring into a mirror, seeing a side of myself full of greed and treachery and violence and without a shred of compassion. I hated myself right then, and the overpowering feeling brought a red shadow down over my thoughts, blotting out any rational argument.

Before I even knew what I was doing I was out of my seat, ignoring the protests from Donovan and Zee. My blind rage drove me across that room like a bulldozer. I pushed straight past the inmates still waiting to be served and jumped onto the counter. Everything was in slow motion and strangely distorted, like I was watching it through water. I saw two faces right before me, looking up in shock. The other Skulls hadn't even noticed, they were too busy tormenting the round, sobbing figure beneath their feet.

Then, as if the whole world had been holding its breath and finally decided to gulp down some air, time snapped back to normal. With a scream I kicked out hard with my right foot. Years of playing soccer paid off as my paper shoe connected with the face of the first Skull and, with a crack that might have been his nose or my toe breaking, his head jerked backward and he crumpled to the floor.

I tried to direct a second kick but the Skull was quicker, grabbing my foot and pulling me off balance. I half jumped, half fell, and by some miracle of chance tumbled off the canteen serving counter right on top of him. He hit the ground hard and I landed knee-first in the center of his chest, crushing his lungs. Momentum carried me forward and I crashed into the wall behind the canteen, stars exploding in my vision.

Panicking that somebody would stab me in the back, I whipped my body around, scrabbling for purchase on the smooth stone. The other two Skulls were charging at me, and I had to duck as the ladle flew past my ear, showering me with gunk. I had never been in a full-on fight like this and I had no idea what to do next. Fortunately adrenaline was making me act without thinking, and I threw myself at the kid who'd just swung the ladle. The move was half punch, half jump, and missed entirely. Denied contact, my flailing arms shot out. I lost my balance again and I staggered straight into an oncoming fist.

I'd always thought that getting punched would be painful, but it isn't. Not at the moment of impact, anyway. It's like your body switches off its senses during a fight to stop you getting overloaded. You hear a wet thump, and for a moment your world spins, but there is no pain. The absence of sensation caught me by surprise, and suddenly I felt like a superman-unbeatable, impervious to everything.

I angled my head to the side to avoid the next punch that came in, then planted my palms in the middle of the Skull's chest and shoved with all my might. He tripped on the still prone body of Montgomery and almost did a backflip before tumbling earthward. I detected movement in the corner of my eye and ducked instinctively, the ladle skimming over my head. I swung an elbow in the direction of the attack and felt it connect. The Skull whose cheekbone I'd just fractured yelped before slumping back against the canteen.

I grabbed his collar with my left hand and with my right started to pound him. They weren't hammer blows by any stretch of the imagination, but they came hard and fast, and after three or four he was bruised, bloody, and bleating through his split lips. He looked at me with real fear in his eyes, and I tried to picture what my expression must look like. The word demonic sprang to mind.

But then his bloody mouth twisted into a smile and I suddenly realized things had taken a turn for the worse.

I felt a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around my chest, pinning my arms. I thrashed from side to side but it was no good, the Skull had me locked tight and I was powerless to defend myself as the kid in front started throwing punches of his own. He was much better at it than I was, and each strike made my world fade closer to black. There was still no pain, but there was something worse-a creeping numbness that was spreading through my body, and the unmistakable, terrifying sensation that I was being seriously damaged.

I put my final reserves of energy into a last bid for escape, and managed to push back with my legs. I and the kid holding me collapsed to the ground as one, but he still didn't let go. I looked up to see the guy who'd been thumping me and the Skull I'd winded. Both were advancing like lions on a wounded gazelle, with nothing but murder in their eyes.

All this had taken place in less than a minute, but the trough room was almost deserted. From the angle I was lying in I could see past the canteen, and watched as the last few people hurried from the hall. Only one figure remained, and for a second, hope flared as I pictured Donovan coming to help. But he simply shook his head at me, turned, and walked toward the yard. Even Montgomery had struggled to his feet and was trotting off without so much as a backward glance.

The bloodlust inside me suddenly subsided, leaving me utterly alone. The adrenaline had escaped my veins, and it felt like it had left lead weights in its place. Even without the guy beneath me and his bear hug I still don't think I would have had the energy to move a muscle. My fearless expression had deserted me too, and I could do nothing but stare at the predators before me with wide eyes and a trembling jaw.

The two Skulls knelt down beside me and, to my horror, one of them slid something from his belt. It was a wooden spoon, but the handle had been filed down to a deadly point. He waved it in front of my face.

"Gonna pay for that, new fish," he said, his breathing still labored from where I'd landed on his chest. "Gonna be the shortest stay in Furnace of all time."

"Quick," said his friend, wiping the blood from his lip. "Siren gonna go off any time. Lockdown."

"This creep doesn't deserve a quick death," the first Skull hissed, raising his weapon above my stomach. "Gonna bleed you."

I closed my eyes and prayed that this wouldn't hurt too much. At that moment I didn't even care about dying, I just didn't want to feel any pain. I tried to relax my muscles and picture myself somewhere else-on the beach with my family, basking on the hot sand and cocooned by the sound and smell of the ocean.

But the illusion was shattered by a roar. I thought at first that it was the Skull screaming as he plunged the shank into my guts, but when my stomach remained intact I opened my eyes to see a blurred shape flying past and my attacker reeling backward. The shape stopped and swiveled, bringing something hard down onto the head of the other Skull. The tray made a satisfying crack as it hit, and behind it I saw Zee's face.