Alexander Smith - Lockdown

"Just let them go," Donovan whispered. "They know about the plan, they could ruin everything."

I screamed with the pain. Zee took a step toward me but Donovan stopped him.

"I'm telling you, Alex, let them go. We don't know anything about these guys."

"You can trust him," I said through gritted teeth. "I'll lay my life on it. You can trust Toby. Now help me!"

"You'll lay all our lives on this," Donovan said, then both boys ran forward, Zee grabbing me and Donovan gripping Toby's arm. We all pulled together and managed to shift them up a fraction. But Ashley was still throwing himself around. If we couldn't dislodge him, then we were all going over.

"You got him?" I asked. Zee threw his arms over the railing and grabbed Toby's wrist. I let go of the boy and ducked behind Donovan so I had a better view of Ashley.

"Let go," I said, but he showed no sign of hearing me. "I said let go."

Ashley just looked at me with unrestrained contempt, then doubled his efforts to pull Toby loose.

"I can't die on my own!" he screeched.

"Quick," hissed Zee. "I can't hold on much longer."

"Last chance," I said, leaning over the railing, my fist bunched. Ashley spat at me, the gob arcing up then landing back on his own chin. He thrashed around, eyes wild, and I knew I had no choice. I lashed out, my fist connecting with his cheek. His head snapped back, his arm slipping. I punched him again, and this time he let go, seeming to fall in slow motion as if his endless scream was a parachute.

I staggered back from the balcony before he hit the yard, collapsing against the wall as Donovan and Zee pulled Toby onto the walkway. We all sat in silence for a while, trying to understand what had just happened, then Donovan threw me a cold look.

"I hope you're happy," he said.

But how could I be? In the space of five minutes I'd broken the vow and put us all in danger. Worst of all, I'd just become a killer for real.

WE WERE SERENADED BACK downstairs by the sound of a hundred voices cheering and screaming, calling for us to jump as well. It was sick, the way the inmates and the guards saw Ashley's final moments as entertainment, a performance to brighten up their day. He'd been a living, breathing kid; he hadn't deserved his fate, even though he'd chosen it.

"Breathe a word of this to anyone, kid, and I'll kill you," Donovan said for the fourth time as we reached our level. "I'm not joking."

He and Zee pulled ahead, disappearing into my cell. I stopped walking and turned to Toby. He wasn't crying, but it looked like his insides had been pulled out, leaving a white, shivering shell that seemed on the verge of collapse.

"Just ignore him," I said. "It's my plan and you're part of it now. But you really can't say anything, not if you want to get out of here."

"I do," he said. "I won't, I swear."

We walked into the cell. Donovan was lying on his top bunk fuming quietly, and Zee was sitting at the foot of my bed.

"I really wouldn't sit there if I were you," I told him. His eyes widened and he shot up, looking at the bulge that concealed the explosive gloves. He smiled nervously, then glanced at Toby.

"More hands means we can do this quicker," he said eventually. "Right?"

"No," said Donovan without lifting his head. "We don't tell him what we're doing. He can come with us on the day, but the less he knows the less he can give away."

"I'm not going to say anything," Toby said. "I just want out of here. I promise, my mouth is sealed. And I can help."

Donovan just snorted.

"Zee's right," I said. "The more of us there are, the quicker we can get out."

"Well, why don't we just tell everyone?" Donovan spat. I ignored him, checking to make sure there was nobody outside the cell before filling Toby in on the details of the plan. By the time I'd finished, he was grinning from ear to ear.

"You're all crazy," he said.

"Welcome to the club."

MY DREAMS THAT night were as bad as ever. I was back in my glass prison, only this time it wasn't my house I was looking at but a stranger's. The blacksuits pulled someone screaming from it, a figure I recognized as Ashley, throwing him in the cell with me. Instead of thumping the glass, I found myself banging on the boy's face, ignoring his sobs and his pleas as his skin cracked and split. Eventually he smashed into a thousand pieces, and beneath them on the glass floor I saw my reflection, all piggy eyes and rusted mask.

I woke with a cry to find myself encased in a darkness that was almost solid. Shivering, I crawled from my bed to the cell door and lay on the stone staring at the screen in the yard far below, the rotating Furnace logo a beacon in the night. I don't remember falling asleep again but I must have done so, because I woke when the siren blew, my entire body aching from the hard floor.

When the doors grated open, Donovan sprinted down to the yard to check the work chart, then legged it back up the stairs.

"Me and you on laundry," he said, obviously disappointed. "Zee's chipping, Toby's in the kitchen but I don't think he should be doing anything."

"I can handle it," came a voice from the cell door. It was Toby, and behind him stood Zee. "Just tell me what to do."

I told Toby how to fill the gloves while Donovan helped Zee squeeze the balloons under his overalls. We managed to get five in without him looking ridiculous.

"I'm glad Furnace is a no-smoking establishment." He grinned, giving us a twirl to show off his new curves.

On the way down to breakfast we made a plan just to throw the gloves through the wooden slats into the tunnel leading to Room Two. When we got the chance, we'd go through and carry the stockpile to the crack in the floor. Doing it this way was much less risky than breaking into the tunnel every day, and so long as the gloves were out of sight it was unlikely they'd ever be found. Donovan wasn't keen on the idea, but only because it was Toby's suggestion. Anyway, he was outvoted.

"Great," he muttered as he sat down with his breakfast. "Now we're a democracy."

We split up after leaving the trough room, wishing each other good luck. Donovan and I didn't say more than a handful of words to each other as we bleached and washed the sheets, too anxious about the plan. There were so many things that could go wrong-Toby could be caught filling the gloves, Zee could be spotted pushing them through the boards into the tunnel, one of us could explode while walking through the yard, and of course somebody could just mess up and spill the beans. Each of those scenarios went through our minds a million times that morning.

After showering we practically sprinted back to our cell to see Toby sitting on the bottom bunk, pale but happy. Making sure we were alone, he lifted up the mattress and proudly displayed eight fresh gloves, all bloated with gas.

"Holy crap," I said. "How'd you get so many?"

"There are certain advantages to being so skinny," he replied, pulling on his overalls to display just how baggy they were. "You could fit an elephant in these and there'd still be room for little old me."

Donovan made some comment about not pushing it, but he was obviously impressed. Some minutes later Zee came running into the cell looking just as pleased with himself.

"Massive. Piece. Of. Cake," he said. "Just pushed them through the boards when the guard did his rounds. I checked, it's so dark in there you can't see a thing. Nobody will find the gloves unless they're looking for them."

I felt some of the anxiety leaving me-like a bit of the black cloud that had obscured my thoughts for so long just breaking off and floating away. The whole thing seemed like a dream, but it was real-the plan was actually coming together.

For the rest of the day we wandered impatiently through the prison, dreaming wordlessly of what we'd do if we ever reached the surface. We must have looked like giddy kids, and several times we had to warn each other not to grin so hard for fear of someone getting suspicious.