Boy 23 Read online

  Inside the windowless building it’s pitch black. I take a flashlight from my jacket pocket and aim the beam into the gloom, following the corridors round until I reach the control room, where I find Hersch and Henwood. A small portable lamp illuminates the centre of the control room.

  ‘What on earth’s going on?’ I ask.

  Henwood sighs. ‘All we know is the power failed in the early hours of the morning.’

  ‘Shouldn’t the generator have cut in?’

  ‘It should have,’ Hersch says. ‘We’re trying to find out what went wrong.’

  ‘Are the inmates OK?’

  Henwood nods. ‘As far as we know. But no power means no video feeds, so we can’t see what they’re doing. Hopefully they’re all still sleeping – it’s dark in their rooms so they’ll assume it’s still night.’

  I nod. ‘Good.’

  At that moment the lights start to blink back on. One by one the bank of screens in the control room flash back to life. I watch the screens as the inmates start to wake, looking confusedly around them, no doubt wondering why there was no Waking Sound.

  ‘Oh no,’ Hersch says.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Boy 23 isn’t in his room. Look!’

  I stare at the screen. The room’s empty all right. ‘Switch cameras,’ I say. ‘Try the other angles. Maybe he’s just hidden from the camera.’

  Hersch flicks through one camera after another, each revealing another view of the room, vacant except for the boy’s pet bird.

  ‘He’s gone. We should alert Mr Huber right away,’ I say.

  Hersch nods. ‘Let me try his tracking chip first,’ he says. ‘It should tell us exactly where he is.’ He taps at a keyboard, staring at the screen in front of him. He shakes his head. ‘This can’t be happening . . .’

  ‘What is it?’ I ask.

  ‘Boy 23’s chip has been deactivated.’

  Jesper

  I walk all day. I watch the sun go right across the sky and start to go down again. And in all that time, nothing happens – no provisions, no humans, no buildings. Nothing except from time to time a hopper jumps out of the bush and scutters across the path in front of me, making me jump.

  Once or twice I even try to speak out loud to The Voice, like I would in My Place.

  ‘Where am I?’ I ask him.

  ‘Where can I get food?’

  I ask other questions too.

  And I don’t need to even say that The Voice doesn’t answer, do I?

  There are times when I want to cry and other times when all I want to do is fall down to the ground and rest.

  But I don’t. I keep following the arrow to the north-west cos that’s what The Voice told me to do. And The Voice has never been wrong about anything, has he?

  Carina

  I open my eyes when I hear the bell toll. My head feels heavy with sleep. I didn’t get to sleep until it was almost light. I kept remembering things I didn’t want to. I wandered the corridors. When I came back to bed, I heard Sabine crying in her sleep, turning from side to side.

  Much as I’d like to, I can’t stay in bed though. It’s time for church. Around me, the dorm’s a hive of activity as everyone gets ready. Reluctantly I join the rush and get dressed.

  As I’m hurrying towards the dorm door, I notice Sabine. She’s still lying in bed. Her face is pale and sweaty and her eyes are closed. I stop and bend down close to her, feel her weak breath on my face.

  ‘Are you OK, Sabine?’

  She doesn’t answer, but she opens her eyes and looks at me. For a second I’m reminded of my mum.

  ‘It’s time for church. You need to get up.’

  Sabine shakes her head ever so slightly and her eyes close again. I can’t help but wonder what’s wrong. Marsh Flu? But it can’t be; we’ve all had the inoculation. It’s just, the way she looks and sounds, it’s like what Marsh Flu did to Mum. And millions of others.

  ‘Stay there, Sabine. I’ll fetch help.’

  I rush into the corridor, looking for one of the priests, but none are around, so I run along the corridor and then down the stairs until I spot Father Liebling at the foot of the boys’ staircase.

  ‘Father, come quick,’ I shout, running towards him. My voice echoes around the vast entrance hall and I’m dimly aware that everyone else stops what they’re doing to stare at me.

  Liebling looks up, startled.

  ‘Sabine’s sick. I think she has Marsh Flu.’

  He stares at me for a second while the words sink in and then he turns to one of the boys and instructs him to go and get a medic.

  ‘Take me to her,’ Father Liebling says.

  I lead the way back to the dorm as he hobbles along behind.

  Her eyes are still closed when we get to her.

  Liebling gets uneasily to his knees beside Sabine’s bed. He reaches a hand out to her brow. ‘She has a fever,’ he says.

  He takes his hand from her head and feels her pulse underneath her chin. Sabine lies still, eyes closed. I’m not even sure she knows we’re here.

  ‘Can you hear me, Sabine?’ Father Liebling says.

  Sabine says nothing. Her eyes remain closed. She doesn’t stir even when he asks her again more loudly and shakes her shoulder. I fear, for a second, that she’s dead. But I notice her chest still slowly rising and falling.

  There’s movement over near the door. I look up to see Father Lekmann – the medic – arrive, a bag in his hand. He wears a mask over his nose and mouth. He hurries over to Sabine’s bedside, moving Father Liebling and me out of the way. He opens the clasp of his leather bag and takes out a thermometer and a stethoscope. Without a word, he checks Sabine and he frowns.

  ‘What’s the matter with her?’ I ask.

  Father Lekmann ignores me.

  ‘Is it Marsh Flu?’

  He carefully pulls Sabine’s nightdress to one side so he can place the stethoscope on her chest and then he listens, still ignoring my question. I turn to Father Liebling, who’s watching like I am. ‘Do you think it’s Marsh Flu, Father?’

  He shakes his head. ‘She’s had the Marsh Flu inoculation. It must just be a fever.’

  The bell stops tolling.

  ‘You’d better hurry to church, Carina,’ Father Liebling says. ‘You’ll be late. You’ll get into trouble.’

  I look once more at Sabine, at the medic leaning over her. I don’t want to leave her, but Father Liebling’s right.

  I hurry to the corridor and towards the church.

  Jesper

  At first it’s just a sound in the background and I don’t pay it any attention. But as I walk on, it gets louder. The sound of movement. Trickling and rushing. And I realise it has to be water, doesn’t it?

  And by now I’m so thirsty I don’t even think about it, I just yomp in the direction of the sound, away from the path and through the darkness of the trees, crunching twigs underneath my feet, till I’m at an opening in the trees where there’s grass and plants and flowers and the sound of trickling water is louder.

  A riverbank, and cold running water.

  I stand and gawp for a second cos I’ve never seen anything like it in my whole life. I mean, of course there are taps and water and a shower in My Place. And I’ve seen a river on The Screen before, but that doesn’t even get close to this. This river looks alive – water constantly moving and rippling, making shapes as it travels around rocks and fallen tree trunks. But all that’ll have to wait, cos there’s only one thing on my mind and it isn’t thinking how pretty the river is. I crouch down at the river’s edge, scoop up a handful of cold water and gulp it down. And the truth is that it tastes kind of dirty compared to the water in My Place. It’s all I’ve got though, isn’t it? And it doesn’t have the bitter taste. So I slurp handful after handful, till it’s dribbling down my chin and I don’t feel thirsty any more and then I take my bottle and I fill that up too.

  For a while I stand and gawp at the way the water moves along, how it never stops still even for a moment.
The sunlight reflects on it, making it sparkle. I watch flying bugs flit about just above the surface. And I’m still gawping at them as a tiny squawk comes swooping along and catches one of them in its beak.

  Only I don’t have time to just stand and gawp, do I? I need to keep moving. I look at the scroll and see that if I turn left and walk along the riverbank, I’ll be heading north-west. So I yomp along, trampling the grass as I go, listening to the trickling water.

  My stomach rumbles and gurgles as I walk, and I can’t help but think about how I’m gonna find some provisions. The Screen showed me clips all about how to find food in the forest – fish and hoppers and berries and mushrooms and all sorts. But seeing it on The Screen and doing it for real are two different things, aren’t they?

  And then I squizz to my right, down at the river, and I see something that makes me stop dead. Something in the water. It looks sort of like a squawk, except it’s enormous – long and white and thin and hunched over, with legs like great long sticks. Around its beady yellow eyes it has a black feathery stripe, like a mask. The eyes pry into the water, deadly and still. And on the front of its face there’s this beak – long and sharp and like a spear.

  And I’m frozen to the spot, not knowing what to do. That beak and those eyes and the size of the thing make me nervous. All I can do is hope it doesn’t see me. I watch it stalk through the water, away from me. One step, two steps. Beady eyes squizzing the water. It stops, absolutely still, beak just above the water. Seconds pass and nothing happens except I think about whether I should just run away but maybe it would chase me. And then, suddenly, it stabs its beak into the water and a second later brings it out again and there’s something in its beak, thrashing about, trying to escape. A fish. Silver and smooth and shiny.

  And that’s when the squawk’s head turns and it squizzes straight at me. The fish still thrashes around in its beak. I stand frozen as it gawps at me. What’s it thinking? What’s it gonna do?

  The squawk turns its head away again, scoffs down the fish whole and then opens its enormous wings and takes off.

  And I stay frozen to the spot, heart thumping.

  Blake

  I follow the grey, windowless corridors to Huber’s office. His door’s already open, as though he’s been waiting for me. He sits behind his desk, speaking on the phone, but as I stand in the doorway he looks up and gestures for me to come inside. As I enter, he finishes his conversation and puts the phone down. I sit in the chair opposite his.

  ‘Mr Blake, I assume you know what’s happened.’

  ‘Yes. Boy 23. I was in the control room when we discovered he was missing.’

  ‘I don’t need to tell you how serious this is, do I?’

  I shake my head. ‘No. Boy 23 has never been outside before. He’s in all kinds of danger.’

  Huber raises an eyebrow, causing the scar that runs the length of his right cheek to stretch. ‘That’s not what I meant. He provides a direct link to the origins of Marsh Flu – a disease we were tasked with finding a vaccine for.’

  I nod. ‘Which we developed a vaccine for.’

  ‘Yes,’ Huber says. ‘But as far as anyone out there knows, the disease came from a meteorite. A freak occurrence. A one-off. We can’t risk the truth being discovered. It would cost us everything we’ve built up and, even worse, what we are preparing for.’

  I nod. ‘Of course.’

  ‘After the findings of Girl 7’s autopsy, we must make sure nobody’s aware of where these diseases originated. We’re supposed to be covering tracks, not creating new ones. Today was to be the day that Boy 23 was decommissioned – the beginning of the end of the Sumchen project.’

  I nod.

  ‘As it stands, there’s a very real likelihood of a new outbreak, Blake, a new pandemic. Boy 23’s presence in the outside world could easily lead back to us. If they trace Marsh Flu back here, we’re finished. All of us. Boy 23 needs to be found and destroyed as a matter of urgency.’

  ‘Understood.’

  For a second we sit in silence.

  ‘Do we know if Boy 23 is a carrier? Has his sample been tested?’

  Huber shakes his head. ‘His sample is missing.’

  ‘So you don’t know whether he’s a danger to the public?’

  Huber doesn’t answer.

  ‘I don’t understand how this could have happened,’ I say.

  Huber sits forward in his chair. ‘Nobody understands “how” at the moment, Mr Blake. I’m trying to establish the facts of his disappearance.’ There’s something in his tone that makes me uneasy. He leans forward. ‘I’m suspicious that he escaped on the eve of his decommissioning. Especially given the missing sample.’

  I don’t feel comfortable. I shift in my seat.

  ‘Have you noticed anything suspicious recently?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘Until the power came back on and we saw he’d escaped, I had no idea anything was wrong.’

  Huber sighs. He says nothing for what seems like an age, but he stares at me as though he’s trying to read me. I can do nothing but look back at his hard, lined face and his cold blue eyes. Eventually he breaks the stare, glancing down at a notepad on his desk. ‘The basic facts, as far as we’ve been able to establish, are that at twenty past eleven yesterday evening Boy 23 was in his room asleep.’

  I nod. ‘I finished my shift at ten and he was snoring. He went out like a light not long after his provisions.’

  ‘However, at twenty-one minutes past eleven, the power failed across the entire facility, knocking out all the cameras. The back-up generator had been tampered with – fuel had been drained from it in order to disable it. Boy 23 escaped from the facility without a trace, having dug the tracking chip from his neck and left it in his room. Nobody knows how.’

  Huber says nothing for a while, but he gives me a searching expression, trying to read me. Eventually he clears his throat and speaks again. ‘Did you notice anything strange about his behaviour recently?’

  I think for a second. ‘I don’t know. He asks a lot of questions. I thought he was just trying to understand the world outside the facility.’

  ‘Did he ask questions about who he was? Where he was? What was going to happen to him?’

  ‘Nothing that gave any indication he was aware his life was coming to an end, no.’

  Huber nods. ‘There was nothing suspicious at all?’

  ‘There were times when he tricked us. He’d got wise to the fact that we laced his water with a tranquilliser when we needed to work on him. There were occasions when he didn’t swallow the water and therefore wasn’t anaesthetised. On one occasion he opened his eyes when we were running a test. He saw the team of doctors. We terminated the test immediately and gave him a shot of anaesthetic. It’s possible he might remember that.’

  Huber nods again. ‘Do you think there’s any way he could have become aware of the fact that he was to be decommissioned soon? Could he have overheard something?’

  I shake my head. ‘Impossible,’ I say. ‘Even if someone had said something, Boy 23 would have had no way of understanding. He has no context outside of his room in the facility and his own experience.’

  Huber says nothing.

  Carina

  I get into church just as Mass is coming to an end and everyone’s leaving their pews to go to breakfast. I join the crowd, try to get swallowed up by it, hoping nobody noticed I wasn’t there for the service. It isn’t long before I feel a hand on my shoulder though. I stop and turn to see Father Frei staring angrily at me. He pulls me out of the crowd.

  ‘Is attending Mass now voluntary, Carina?’

  I shake my head.

  ‘Then why did you miss most of the service? Did you oversleep?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you have somewhere more important to be?’

  I shake my head again.

  ‘Then explain yourself.’

  ‘A girl in my dormitory was ill. I went to get help for her.’

  Father Frei raises
an eyebrow.

  ‘Father Liebling called Father Lekmann out for her. I think she has Marsh Flu.’

  For a couple of uncomfortable seconds, Father Frei stares at me, before clearing his throat. ‘Well, whatever the reason for your lateness, Carina, you must understand that religious observance is a mandatory requirement of your board at St Jerome’s.’

  I sigh. The chance of getting thrown out of St Jerome’s would be a fine thing indeed.

  ‘Which work team are you on today, Carina?’

  ‘Kitchens.’

  Father Frei shakes his head. ‘I think today you should join the team working in the clearances, Carina. The wagon leaves from outside the home five minutes after breakfast has finished.’

  I nod. He thinks clearing houses is a back-breaking punishment, but I know there are perks to the job.

  Jesper

  I stand on the bank, totally still. It takes a while for the ripples I’ve made to calm, but when they do, the water’s completely clear. I see a fish in the river, an arm’s length from the bank, and right away I think of filling my belly. Except, as I’m prying and thinking about how to catch it, the fish flicks its body and darts off, quick as anything. I’ve lost him.

  I squizz all around the river again, searching for another fish. Only I don’t see anything but water. Not until I catch a glimpse of something zooming through the river like a rocket – there one second and the next it’s gone. And then I spot them – a big group of fish, all kind of swimming together but staying pretty much in the same place. They’re little ones, not even the size of my hand.

  Are they too little to eat?

  Not when I’m as hungry as this.

  All I have to do is catch one. Or two or three.

  Except maybe that isn’t gonna be so easy. On The Screen I’ve seen them do it, but they have this long stick thing, with some string on it with a hook on the end, and they put food on the hook, and the fish bites it and gets stuck.

  But I don’t have any of that stuff, except the string. I could go into the trees and find a stick, but I’m hungry right now and the fish are here now. So I gotta use what I have with me – my hands, a knife, a bag and not much else.