Free Resurgence by Kerry Wilkinson

panicked.
    ‘What’s wrong?’ I call across, as the others stop and turn.
    Without opening her mouth, she angles her eyes downwards towards her foot, trying desperately not to move. It is pressed on top of the thick round bulb of an unexploded grenade.

7
    Hart’s theory was that bigger shells were used to destroy the village and that the lighter explosions we heard were from smaller bombs or grenades as they tried to cause
as much damage as possible across the gully before the plane ran out of fuel. It is no consolation that he was right as we all freeze, staring at Pietra’s foot. She has stopped moving her
arms and is standing straight and still, eyes flicking between us, asking without words what she should do.
    I move carefully towards her until I am close enough to crouch and inspect the device. It has a metal ball at one end with a long, thin stem, like a baby’s rattle but longer and much
deadlier. Pietra’s shoe is resting half on the spherical end, half on the handle of the grenade. Her fingers are wavering as Hart joins me by her side, taking her hand in his and rubbing it
hard.
    ‘What is it like?’ he asks.
    ‘I don’t know. I can’t see a trigger,’ I reply.
    Pietra says what I didn’t want to. ‘It doesn’t matter if there’s a trigger. It’s probably too unstable anyway.’
    Hart hunches next to me, letting go of Pietra’s hand. ‘You’re good with this stuff. Is there any chance you can disarm it?’
    ‘If it was electronic I might have some clue, but this is different. Even if I did have an idea I don’t have the tools to get into it and there’s no obvious panel. It’s a
sealed unit.’
    ‘What about your box?’
    I take the teleport device out of my pocket but know from the heat of the back panel that it isn’t going to work. The buttons on the front are unresponsive but at least it is now light
enough to see what I’m doing. I took a small screwdriver from the camp before we left and use it to wedge the back panel open. A small puff of steam escapes and the insides are hotter than
the housing. I shake my head to say it isn’t going to happen and lever the wiring out with the screwdriver.
    I sit on the floor and stare up at Pietra’s scared expression. Her clothing is wet from the tunnel, with her hair stuck to her face. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve done something wrong
and it’s overheated. I’m going to need to replace some of the wiring.’
    ‘Can you do that around here?’ Hart asks.
    Pietra replies for me. ‘If there’s one grenade here, there could be others. I don’t want you to go looking because of me.’
    Hart begins to say that he’ll go anyway but she cuts across him with a firm ‘no’. None of us knows if the spying birds are still circling nearby either.
    ‘You should go.’ Pietra’s gentle but firm statement is met by silence so she continues. ‘I was the one silly enough to step on it. There’s no point in any of you
putting yourselves in danger. You all move away and I’ll take my foot off it. You never know, it might not go off and I can catch you up.’
    The way her voice cracks makes it clear she doesn’t believe her own words. Hart tries to hold onto her arm but she pushes him away, carefully keeping her foot still.
    ‘Go,’ she urges, nodding towards me. ‘You especially. You need to get Imrin back and do everything else you need to. People are relying on you.’
    ‘I keep hearing that.’ ‘That’s because it’s true.’
    The fact that her first priority is getting the rest of us to safety is a testament to the woman she has become. The girl on the train who taunted Wray for being a Trog as we were taken to
Windsor Castle for the first time is long gone. Pietra has been with me ever since I tripped over her in the secret passageway on the way back to the dormitory what seems like such a long time ago.
We have trekked from one end of the country to the other together.
    Too many people I care about have died trying to do