trackie pocket.
No body remains
. The words resonate in my mind, a chilling reminder that Dair is missing and that I must pull myself together if I want to survive. I’m at crisis point and there is only one person who can help me; the same person I must warn before it’s too late.
Chapter Fifteen
I’m at the checkpoint where all vehicles are scanned before entering, or leaving, the zone. It took nearly two hours to make it this far. My thigh is throbbing and I feel weak with cold, despite the old jacket I found in a skip after setting off. I was going to try to go across country, but it will soon be curfew time, and I can’t risk being seen leaving the controlled area.
The darkness is protecting me. I’m hiding at the back of a toilet block. From here, I can see all the cars and lorries in the queue. One by one, they are being swept by a scan gun. Then the automatic barrier lifts and they drive away.
Crouch low. Breathe. Make a plan.
I’ve decided to stow away in the back of an open truck. I need to choose carefully. It mustn’t have sidesthat are too high. I’ll need to cat leap in once it has passed through the barrier. It will be moving, so I’ll have to use all my free-running skills to keep pace with it and make the leap. My heart is banging in my chest, reminding me that time is ticking away. What if there isn’t a suitable vehicle? My spirit sinks at the thought of a journey overland, through the night.
I look at the queue of cars stretching back into the darkness. There are two lanes of them and the
thrum
of their engines sounds like a swarm of bees moving closer, very slowly. About fifty metres away, there are raised headlights. As they approach, I see they belong to a large black van with an open back, and scaffolding poles tied down inside.
This is the one. There’s nothing else in the line that I can get into. It’s now or never. I try to steady my breathing, which has become shallow and panicky. I watch the van intently as it moves forward and stops on the scanning grid. There are two people in the cab: a stocky male driver and a younger man with spiky hair.A blue light sweeps over the vehicle. There is a high-pitched
beep beep
noise and the barrier begins to rise.
Bam
and
bam
, my feet are slamming on the ground. Head down and push and push and
whoooah
, the rush of air against my face! Speed up and force my legs to sprint, so fast they are a blur of motion. Three, two, one and LEAP and land and grip the side and flip and tip and curl and roll and holy mangoes. Made it!
I’m on all fours, crouched between scaffold poles and the side of the van, ribs rising and falling heavily. I’m so full of adrenaline I can’t feel any pain in my bad leg. The poles are a great camouflage. I slide underneath them. I mustn’t relax. I need to be ready to jump out once we reach the barrier at the end of the motorway, the entrance to my home zone.
It’s a bumpy, noisy ride. The van is travelling fast, making the poles rattle and clank together. I’m estimating that the journey will take about half an hour. It’s hard to gauge the passing of time. There is nothing to do but stare at stars.
I’m almost lulled into sleep by the motion so I make myself try to join the dots in the sky. One giant spider’s web later and we seem to be slowing down. Darkness is replaced by bright light – we must be approaching the next control point.
Time to skedaddle. I’m peering over the side of the van, waiting for my moment. The vehicle slows to a crawl. I take a deep breath and vault as silently and lightly as possible, landing on the tarmac. As soon as my feet touch the ground, I am off, like a bat flitting away from the dawn. I’m hiding in the bushes at the side of the road before you can say
mai pen rai
.
I know the direction to take. I can see the Social Observation Tower in the distance, lit up like a skinny needle. My house is east of here. I’ll follow the main road towards town, staying out of sight