Alexander Smith - Lockdown

I walked up to the bed and leaned against the wall, running a hand through my hair and sighing loudly.

"I couldn't just lie there not knowing what was going on," I said eventually. It was a lame excuse for something that could have got us both dragged away, but at least it was the truth. "Besides, you saw that thing. It wasn't interested in us. It knew exactly where it was going."

"You wouldn't be so damn cocky now if it had marked the door," Donovan spat back. "You'd be strung up somewhere beneath Furnace having your skin ripped off or your eyes skewered or something."

I felt my stomach turn and did my best to ignore his remarks. Donovan wiped a hand beneath his nose and sniffed loudly, looking me in the eye as if waiting for something.

"Okay, I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I really am. Come on, I've hardly been here any time, I didn't know how serious it all was." Donovan nodded gently but his eyes never left mine. "I just…" I paused, not quite sure what I was saying. "I just want to be doing something, something to help get us out of here. I don't want to be curled up and cowering in the dark when those things come for me. Okay?"

"What else is there to do?" was his emotionless reply.

"He thinks we can make a break for it," said Zee, smiling at Donovan as if he was talking about a silly child. "He thinks there's a way out."

"Oh yeah, there are plenty of ways," Donovan said, rummaging under his mattress and pulling out a small wooden shank. I was surprised to see it, but I guess everybody in Furnace needs some way of protecting themselves. He started scratching the rock wall, the homemade blade not even leaving a mark. "Just pick a spot and start digging. If nobody catches you, I reckon you could make it out in, say, a thousand years."

He tossed the shank back onto his bed then leaped nimbly onto the floor, barging past me and standing at the bars of the cell, looking down into the yard. I sat down on the bottom bunk and tried to ignore my frustration. In the relative silence I heard the sound of screaming from nearby but I tuned it out.

"Tell me what you know about the cave-in," I asked after a while. "In Room Two."

Donovan snorted.

"That was my reaction too," Zee said, sniggering. I wanted to leap up and slap him but I managed to control my temper and settled for a mean glare. He mouthed the word "sorry" and let me carry on.

"Something happened in there," I went on. "Those kids hit a fault line or something. I could smell it, Donovan, I could smell the fresh air."

"It was your imagination, you chump," he replied, resting his head against the bars. "Maybe someone let rip when you were standing next to them and you felt the draft."

"You were there too, the other day. Didn't you sense something? Anything?"

"Yeah, I sense it every time I walk into a room in here. I hope and pray that there might just be a hole in the rock and we can all make a run for it. Sometimes I hope so much that I can see the way out, I can smell the rain, I can hear the birds. But I can't, it's just an illusion. They say that hope can set you free, and I guess that's what it is. A tiny glimpse of freedom to keep us sane, if you follow me."

"It wasn't an illusion," I snapped. "I'm telling you, it was real. I didn't make it up."

I thought back, remembering the sensation of being outside, of mountains and wind and endless views. Maybe it had just been an illusion, my brain's way of coping with the thought of never going aboveground again. I guess it made sense. I mean, I knew that Furnace could do funny things to your mind. But something deep inside me wouldn't let it rest, was screaming at me not to give up. I knew that inner voice well, the instincts that I had followed all the time when I was robbing houses.

"Fine, maybe it was just my imagination," I said. "But what if it wasn't? What if there is a way out? Isn't it worth a look?"

"Feel free," muttered Donovan. "I'm not stopping you."

"But we need your help, D," I added. "We can't do this alone."

"You mean you can't do this alone," Zee said, looking at me with a concerned expression. "Less of this we business, please."

I looked at Donovan for a response but he had straightened up and was staring down into the yard with an expression of disbelief.

"No way," he said with a laugh. "No way is he taking on the Skulls."

I jumped off the bed and ran through the cell door to the platform. Six floors beneath me I made out a small circle of people, each wearing painted bandannas and unsettled expressions. In the middle of the circle, prowling around like a caged tiger, was the tall, calm new boy, Gary Owens. Donovan and Zee rushed to my side and watched as Gary raised his hands, inviting the Skulls to throw a punch. Some had pulled shanks from inside their overalls but nobody was making the first move.

"He is either the bravest kid or the biggest idiot on the planet," said Donovan, his tone almost respectful. I'm not sure why but I suddenly felt a surge of jealousy that my cellmate was so impressed with him.

"Idiot, I'd say," I muttered. "He's going to die down there."

I saw Kevin walking up to Gary. The new kid was almost a head taller than the leader of the Skulls but Kevin didn't seem to care. His face was red, his expression apoplectic-all bulging eyes and foaming mouth. He grabbed Gary by the collar and started screaming at him. The acoustics in the prison weren't great, but from up here we got the gist, just like everybody else in Furnace who had stopped what they were doing to see what was going on.

"Think you can march in here and take over?" Kevin screamed, along with a few choice expletives. He was shaking Gary, but the big boy wasn't folding. He was studying Kevin with a look of cold detachment, a look that reminded me of a spider's emotionless glare right before it bites into its prey. "Gonna kill you, new fish. Gonna skewer you."

He pushed Gary back and a number of Skulls grabbed his overalls, holding him in place. A length of gleaming silver had appeared in Kevin's hand, and he waved it menacingly in front of Gary's face.

"Even the tough kids learn the rules pretty quickly in here," Donovan said.

I wasn't so sure. With a twist of his body Gary sent one of the Skulls holding him skittering across the stone floor, then smashed his free fist into the face of his other captor. The boy's legs buckled with the impact and he fell to the floor, his landing spot already marked out by the blood gushing from his nose.

Kevin screeched like a wild animal and backed away, motioning for his henchmen to attack. But nobody moved. They weren't Mafia enforcers, they were kids. Gary strode forward and grabbed Kevin's arm, bending it in such a way that the shank fell from his grip. The Skull was yelling in pain, his fury replaced by fear.

"Kill him!" Kevin yelled to dead ears. "Cut his heart out."

"This is great," said Donovan. "Kevin's been asking for it ever since he arrived. About time he got some himself. Hope the new kid roughs him up a bit."

Gary kept twisting Kevin's arm, using both hands to bend back the wrist to an impossible angle until, in horrible unison, a crack and a scream echoed across the yard. The prison had been plunged into silence, everybody watching as Kevin dropped to his knees clutching his broken arm, tears streaming down his face. Gary placed a foot on Kevin's shoulder and sent him sprawling, and at once a huge cheer broke out from the inmates.

"This is great!" Donovan repeated with more enthusiasm. "How the mighty have fallen, eh?"

"You think this means we'll be free of the Skulls?" Zee asked.

"Reckon so," Donovan replied. "Maybe he'll take out the Fifty-niners too."

Gary bent down and snatched the bandanna from Kevin's head and the shank from the floor. He held them up in the air for us all to see, like trophies. Some of the other kids had gone right up to the boy, circling him as if he'd just scored the winning goal in a soccer match. One inmate had even put his arm around him and was jumping up and down.