Alexander Smith - Lockdown

"Ain't no way out, kid," said Donovan, getting up from the bed and walking up to him. "Got your head screwed on all wrong. Now scram."

Jimmy kept staring at me. One more, I thought. Surely one more person wouldn't hurt. But it was one more person to spill the beans, one more to ruin everything. It wasn't worth the risk.

"Sorry, Jimmy," I said eventually. "Donovan's right, we're not going anywhere. There is no way out of Furnace, remember."

"Now scram," Donovan repeated. This time he planted his hands on Jimmy's chest and sent him stumbling backward. The boy hit the railings but his eyes never left mine.

"Last chance," he said. "Take me with you."

I just turned away. We all did. And when we looked back at the platform it was deserted.

WE SPENT THE next couple of hours panicking. What did Jimmy mean when he said everyone knew we were acting weird? And what rumor? If the inmates were starting to suspect something, it meant the guards might be too, and if that was the case, then it was all over.

But there had been no alarms, no blacksuits at the door, no dogs chasing us from our cells. If the warden even suspected we were planning to make a break for it, then the chances were we'd already be dead.

We voted on what to do about Gary. Zee and Toby figured we should just not tell him, make a run for it and hope he didn't figure out what we were doing. Donovan and I thought it was probably best to let him know. We'd made a deal, after all, and the Skull had let me keep my life. Besides, he was big and strong and he might just come in handy if things got tough. The vote was a tie but Donovan only had to put a little pressure on Toby to make him change his mind. Physical pressure, that was, in the form of a Chinese burn.

Nobody else was willing to deliver the news, however, so I ended up traipsing down the stairs. The Skulls were nowhere in sight, and I made my way to the gym. From the howling inside I didn't really want to go in, but when I told the two sentries on duty I had some important news for Gary, they let me pass.

Inside was a bloodbath, a Skull and a Fifty-niner going to work on each other with unrestrained fury. Gary was watching, but when he saw me he jumped off his bench and walked over.

"Something to tell me, little man?" he sneered. He wiped his hand across his face, his swollen knuckles leaving a trail of blood on his lips.

"Tomorrow," I said. "During hard labor. We're all going in the chipping room. Get in there too. You'll see when we make our move, just follow us."

He looked at me, and for the first time I actually saw a hint of emotion. To my surprise, it resembled anxiety, there for a second then gone.

"What if I'm put somewhere else?" he asked. "You're not going without me."

"Doesn't matter," I replied. "They don't check. Just get in there, Room Three. Stay close. And don't tell a soul, okay?"

He didn't move, just stood there with his dark eyes fixed on mine. Then he turned and walked off, climbing back on his bench and watching the fight as if nothing had happened. The Skull in the ring was on the floor, the Fifty-niner stomping on his chest, and I made my way from the gym as quickly as I could to escape the sound of snapping ribs.

Back upstairs we went through the last few details of the plan, with Toby posted outside to make sure there were no more eavesdroppers. There wasn't really much left to say, however, and after a period of silence Zee and Toby decided to head back to their cells for some rest. Neither Donovan nor I could face the thought of dinner, so we just lay on our bunks and waited for lights-out.

"You know what it means if we fail, don't you?" he asked.

"Yeah, we die."

"In the most horrible way possible," he added. "Truly in the most horrible way possible."

"I'm not sure if it really matters though," I said quietly. Donovan protested but I just carried on. "I mean, even if everything goes wrong and we end up in the hole, or worse, we still managed to beat Furnace."

"How's that?"

"Well, we figured a way out. We actually found a way of escaping. It doesn't matter if we make it or not, we still beat the system. Right now, Donovan, right now we're free."

"I don't really get you," he said. "But I hear what you're saying. We'll be legends, man, whatever happens."

He didn't really understand, but then neither did I. It was just a feeling, a weight lifted from my chest. Furnace's walls seemed a little bit weaker, the air a little bit lighter, the space a little bit bigger. It was still the same place but it didn't have the same power. We'd found a way to break it before it had found a way to break us.

At least that's what I thought when the cells locked and the prison went dark. Everything changed when I woke up some time later, deafened by the siren and bathed in a pool of blood-red light.

I SAT BOLT UPRIGHT in bed, my head spinning. It was the blood watch, here for another harvest. I couldn't believe it, they couldn't be, not tonight.

The crimson light made the entire prison shimmer like I was seeing it through a heat haze, as if the fires of hell were burning right beneath us. I stretched my neck and looked down into the yard as the vault door swung open, unleashing a series of screams and wheezes that could only come from the gas masks.

"Alex," came Donovan's voice from above me, laced with fear. "Just don't move, okay? For once, just stay in bed and keep your head down."

I lowered myself back and pulled the sheets over my head. Donovan was right, just stay quiet, stay hidden and they'd pass right by. There was a series of wet cries as the wheezers split up, each heading for a different flight of steps. I pictured them jerking and convulsing as they made their way along the platforms, their piggy eyes picking out victims to be devoured.

There was a scream, distant. It was on the far side of the prison. The first wheezer had chosen. A second cry followed, like a dying bird, from below us. Two down, three to go. Another shriek, followed by a chorus of pleas from the chosen inmate. A fourth, this time way above, the sound echoing down the prison walls in case any of us missed it the first time around. Only one wheezer left. One more victim.

"Not us," I prayed, so softly I couldn't even hear myself. My breath hit the sheet over my mouth, the air stale and warm. "Please, God, just one more night. Not us."

A scream, so close it could have been from inside my bed. I curled up even more tightly into my sheets. Stay quiet, stay hidden, they'll go away, they'll just go away.

I heard another scream, but it wasn't from the gas mask. It was a cry of rage, of anger, of despair. It was Donovan. I pulled the sheets off my head and sat up to see the monster standing right outside the cell, all rust and stitches and glass eyes, all leather and syringes and dried blood. It had one hand in its pocket, and pulled it free with a sucking sound.

"No!" screamed Donovan. "NoNoNoNoNo!"

Its soiled hand struck the bars of the cell, marking out a crude X on the metal. Then it slung back its twitching head and screeched, the sound quickly mimicked by its twisted siblings.

I jumped out of bed and looked at Donovan. He was peeking from his sheets, his eyes like white moons against his dark skin, his mouth foaming. I'd never seen him like this before, filled with utter terror, and it broke my heart.

"What do we do?" I asked. The wheezer had frozen, but it wouldn't be long before the blacksuits made their way here with their dogs. "Which one of us is it taking?"

Donovan didn't move, didn't speak. I ripped the sheets from him and he still didn't respond. Desperate, I grabbed his arms and hauled him out of bed. He was halfway over the edge before he realized what was going on, snapping out of his trance in order to flip himself over and land on the floor.