Alexander Smith - Lockdown

"I'm not doing this," he said as he kicked the kid beneath me in the ribs. The figure writhed and his arms loosened, letting me wriggle my way free. "I'm not doing this. I'm not doing this."

Past the roar of blood in my ears I heard the sound of a siren, and knew that lockdown was imminent.

"Run," Zee shouted, throwing the tray to the floor with a crash and grabbing my sleeve. We careened across the trough room, leaping onto the tables to avoid the scattered benches and remains of lunch. I tried to remember what Donovan had said about lockdown, about how long the siren sounded before the cells were sealed. Was it a minute? Thirty seconds?

We emerged into the yard to find it free of people but full of noise. From the hundreds of cells that lined the hall came shouts and cheers and whoops and whistles, all directed at us as we ran for the stairs.

But we weren't going to make it. Halfway across the yard I heard the rattle of the cells shutting tight, followed by the hiss of pneumatics that signaled the vault door opening. I should never have stopped running, but I did. Fear and morbid curiosity forced me to a halt, made me watch in horror as the massive portal swung open and the dogs bounded out.

REMEMBER I TOLD YOU I'd run from worse things in my life than the cops? Well, this was one of those occasions. They burst from the shadows like hounds from hell, sent by the devil to tear sinners to pieces and drag their screaming souls back to the underworld. The sheer power of their twisted bodies was betrayed by their lack of skin, their exposed muscles and tendons flexing and glistening in the unforgiving light of Furnace as they came to a halt in the middle of the yard.

Worst of all were their eyes-two emotionless silver pennies that shone from their wet faces, scanning the ground and eventually fixing on me. I stared back, lost in the twin moons of each creature, the glare an invisible fishing line that hooked itself into my eyes and stopped me from running. For a moment, nobody moved. But then one of the hounds raised its head and unleashed a howl-a sickening noise that sounded like the screams of a dying man-and they charged.

"Come on," I heard Zee shout, grabbing my shoulder. I turned and bolted after him as he made for the nearest staircase, hearing the dogs scream again as they closed in for the kill, hearing the noise in the surrounding cells reach a crescendo as the inmates settled in for the show.

We scaled the steps three at a time, fear and adrenaline turning us into Olympic champions. I was shouting curse after curse, a torrent of swear words that I hoped would block the staircase behind me. It didn't work. By the time we had reached the top of the stairs the dogs were advancing on the bottom. They had slowed their run to a leisurely prowl, knowing we had nowhere to go. The creatures seemed to relish the thought, their massive jaws twisting into a grimace and dripping great gobs of saliva onto the steps.

And they were right, there was nowhere to go. All the cells were locked tight.

"Next floor," hissed Zee, and we started climbing again, my legs burning and my head spinning from the effort. We reached the second level and turned to see both dogs following us up the stairs, sparks flying from their feet every time their claws connected with the metal. Zee bounded up one more flight of steps and started running along the platform, ignoring the whoops and hollers from the other side of the bars.

"Think," he screamed at me. "Where are we going?"

"Just head for the other stairwell," I replied, trying to make it sound like I had a plan.

We bolted down the platform, the inmates inside watching half in horror and half in fascination as the dogs followed us. One of the beasts was distracted by something inside a cell and threw itself at the bars, buckling them like they were made of plastic. My legs almost gave way there and then, as well as other parts of my body that I don't really want to mention, but I managed to keep going.

Halfway along the platform the dogs got bored of prowling and broke into a trot, their huge feet making the platform shake in its casings every time they made contact, their eyes narrowing as they fixed on their prey. We reached the stairs and clambered up them, trying to look at where we were going and what was behind us at the same time. As long as we kept a stairwell in between us and the creatures I felt okay.

Talk about tempting fate. Tiring of the chase, the first dog hurled itself from the platform, leaping through the air above the courtyard and landing with a crash on the other side of the banister from me. Up close its face was even more horrific, I could see past a set of stained and crooked teeth right down its raw red throat, a glistening abyss where I was about to meet my fate. Of all the ways I could have thought of to die, this was the worst-chewed to pieces by a mutant dog. I staggered backward, tripping on a step and landing on my ass.

The monster dug its claws into the metal and pulled itself over the stairwell, never taking its silver eyes off me. I could smell its fetid breath as it panted-the stench of death and decay that would accompany me to my end. It lowered itself ungracefully to the platform, making the whole thing tremble, and raised its head for the kill. I took one look at Zee, frozen at the top of the stairs, then resigned myself to the inevitable, praying for the second time that day that my death wouldn't be too painful.

But from the yard below came the sound of sobbing. The dog whipped its head around and stared through the metal railings, and I did the same. One of the Skulls from the trough room-the one who had tried to kill me-was limping across the floor, begging at the top of his voice to be allowed back in his cell.

The dog unleashed a deafening howl and leaped off the staircase. Despite being three floors up it landed perfectly, speeding across the stone. I felt Zee's hand on my shoulder and let him help me to my feet. He started running up the stairs again but I couldn't pull myself away from the events below.

The second dog had also leaped from the platform and both were now closing in on their new victim. The Skull was backing off, his face a mask of fear. He still held the sharpened wooden spoon in one hand and he waved it in front of him. It looked like someone trying to stop a train with a toothpick.

"Come on, Alex," Zee whispered. "They're gonna be back up here any minute."

The dogs crouched down on their haunches, looking for a second as if they were about to curl up and go to sleep. But then they both sprang forward, jaws open impossibly wide. The place where the Skull had been standing was suddenly a blur of color, different shades of red battling it out with flashes of silver and shards of dirty white for supremacy in the sickening tableau.

It was over in seconds. I didn't watch the dogs finish their meal, I just followed Zee as he leaped up the stairs again. Beneath us I heard a pair of blood-curdling howls gargled through wet throats, then the sound of claws on metal as the dogs once again scaled the stairwell.

"What's the point?" I hissed breathlessly as we reached the fourth level and kept on running. "They're going to catch us."

But Zee didn't answer. I stopped for an instant to catch my breath and stole a glance through the stairs. One dog was below, bounding up the steps with frightening speed. The other was scaling the steps at the far end of the platforms. They were boxing us in.

Fear lending us strength, we pushed ourselves up past the fifth level to the sixth, and were about to keep climbing when I saw a sight that I didn't quite believe. Midway down the row my cell door was half open, wedged in place by a toilet seat, of all things. Standing on the platform waving frantically at us was Donovan. I felt my entire body flood with relief and we both charged toward him, but before we'd made it past more than a couple of cells the dog appeared at the far end and began hurtling our way.