Cracks (22 page)

He takes my hand with his meaty, sweaty one and a nasty smile spreads across his face as he hauls himself to his feet. Before he lets go, he does an odd thing, and puts his hand on my back as
though patting me.

We stand close eyeballing each other. I’m not frightened of him now. I pity him. I turn away and walk back down the hill. When I get to the bottom, I look back up and he’s gone.

I’m trembling all over and my head’s throbbing along with my hand, but I don’t regret going there. I still don’t know how Alex became the brain tissue donor but I know it
had something to do with Riley Hall.

I walk back into the town. I only have one thought now. I’m going back to the graveyard and I’m going to wait there until someone visits that grave.

Until my family comes.

It takes less than ten minutes to get back there. This time I come in carefully, scanning for the gravedigger bloke or whoever he was. There are loads of tall hedges and bushes
and I stay close to them, using all my training to stay in the shadows.

I find somewhere to hunker down, behind a big old grave from seventeen-something that’s covered in bright green ivy. I settle down and wait.

And wait.

It gets colder by the minute and a light rain starts to fall. I swear, feeling pitifully sorry for myself. No one’s coming here. I’m stupid to think I’ll find anyone this way .
. .

And then my heart flips over. There’s someone there. A woman in a bright green coat is going over to the grave. My grave. She’s bending down. Her hair is a faded red and her curls
bob as she works away at pulling out weeds around the headstone.

Oh my God. It can’t be. Can it?

Is that my mother?

Am I really looking at my own mum?

I don’t want to freak her out by running to her and anyway, my legs are shaking so violently that I can hardly stand up. I can hear someone crying and realise it’s me. Tears slide
down my face. I’m smiling and crying at the same time.

I must have made a noise because she starts and then turns to look at me. She gets up hastily and I realise I have my hood pulled up high. Maybe she thinks I’m a mugger. She starts to
gather her things to leave and I cry out.

‘No! Don’t go!’ I pull the hood back from my face and watch her look of fear turn to confusion.

‘It’s me!’ I say, my voice cracking and wobbling all over the place.

She scrunches her brow, studying me for what seems ages. She gives her head a little shake and smiles, then frowns again. Her lips part and make the shape for ‘What?’ but it’s
soundless. Then her eyes go wide and her hands fly to her face. She gives a little cry.

We both start to move at once but a droning, violent sound suddenly fills the air around me and suddenly I’m surrounded by black metal things, buzz drones, crowding like angry bees. All I
can see is my own terrified face reflected back in their bug-like eyes. I wave my arms and something small and black falls to the ground. I think,
A tracker. Des put a tracker on my back.
They’ve got me
.

She starts to come towards me and I manage to shout ‘Run! They’ll take you too! RUUUN!’ It’s the last thing I know before electric agony blasts everywhere around and
there’s only white pain, blotting out the world.

I
come to on the floor of a van. My cheek is pressed against the cold metal and I’m bound by metal ropes around my wrists and feet so I
can’t move. A sob wrenches my throat.

I was so close.

So very close to being with my family.

The tears come properly then, pouring down my cheeks, despite the blinking light of a camera on the door, an evil eye that watches my every move. I bawl until I’m empty inside and I can
taste dried salt. I lie there, getting bumped and battered by every movement of the van. My vision is funny and I’m hot then cold then hot again. I see Des’s face leering at me with a
cigarette between his teeth and cry out because it feels like he really is there. Then I see Pigface, but his face changes into Jax’s then Kyla’s and both are crying. Or is that me?
It’s all getting jumbled up. I hear someone hiss ‘Alex!’ in a harsh voice and I say, ‘No, I’m not Alex. I’m Cal. I’m Cal . . . I’m not Alex.
I’m not a lab rat. I’m Cal Conway.’

I’m me.

Eventually the van comes to a stop. The doors open and daylight scorches my eyes.

I’m dragged out and thrown roughly onto a metal trolley.

An ugly grey building comes into sight. This isn’t the Facility . . . it’s . . . Riley Hall?

What? It can’t be . . . can it? I twist my head to try to look properly but this makes everything spin sickeningly fast. I groan and lift a hand to my forehead. I’m burning up
inside, but my skin feels icy cold and clammy against my fingers. I’m shivery all over and my teeth chatter. Faces loom in and out at me and I hear someone say, ‘Tell Cavendish
he’ll have to delay things. He’s in no fit state,’ and then there’s only darkness.

I wake up in what looks like a hospital room. My arm is hooked up to a bag of liquid. My head throbs with a rhythm like someone is banging a stick against it. The memory of
being captured comes at me like a freight train and I groan, running my tongue over cracked, dry lips.

The door opens and Daniel Cavendish comes in with another man. ‘Hello, Cal,’ Cavendish says. ‘Are you feeling better? You had a very severe infection in that hand.’

I try to turn my head to look around. An image of being taken into a big grey building comes into my mind.

‘Where am I?’ I say croakily. ‘Is this Riley Hall?’

Cavendish frowns. ‘The Facility was built in the old prison known as Riley Hall. They’re one and the same place. The Securitat is very keen for our research to correct
offenders’ behaviour.’

Of course. I never saw the building when Torch rescued me. I left in the dark.

I was in Riley Hall all that time.

I wince at the bright light and squeeze my eyes closed again, trying to take this in. Riley Hall, the Facility, me, the boy Alex . . . it’s like a series of circles all rippling closer
together. My life and his, mixed up in a way that can never be separated. All squeezing into something small and tight, like a noose around my neck.

‘I know what you did,’ I say. ‘You pretended I was dead and brought me here for your research. And the donor boy . . . he was a prisoner here, wasn’t he?’

Cavendish purses his lips. ‘Alex Hunt was the first young offender to be part of our programme of research here, yes.’

‘What do you want from me?’ My lips are so dry they stick to my teeth. ‘Why won’t you leave me alone?’

‘All our research rests on you. We have to take things up a notch. Move to the next level.’

I try to struggle upwards and then realise I’m bound by my wrists to the bed. ‘What are you going to do to me?’

‘We’re simply putting you back into the world you know so well, that’s all. You’re perfectly safe. Didn’t we keep you alive these past twelve years? We didn’t
hurt you.’

‘What?’ I struggle against the bindings again but they get tighter. ‘You stole my life!’ I yell. ‘You had no right! And what about Alex? You killed him,
didn’t you? For your stupid experiment.’

Cavendish looks uncomfortable. ‘Nothing inhumane was done here to anyone. There are sometimes unfortunate and unexpected consequences, that’s all.’

‘You’re disgusting,’ I whisper. ‘The whole programme is disgusting! And I won’t be part of it again! I won’t let you do it!’ I thrash about wildly,
shaking my head and pulling against the restraints.

Cavendish sighs. ‘We can easily sedate you, so it’s pointless behaving that way. You’ll only injure yourself. But I’d prefer it if you were a willing patient, especially
as you may endanger my staff who are trying to treat you. Maybe I should show you something . . .’ He produces a phone from his pocket. He points it at the wall and a projection comes to
life. It’s a prison cell in semi-darkness. The image pans around the room. I see Jax, lying on the hard bench, his big trainers hanging off the end. It’s so realistic, I get an urge to
touch him. Tell him it’s OK.

But it isn’t. None of it’s OK. It may never be OK again.

He’s got Jax. But not Kyla? Maybe she got away. And it looks like my mother got away too. I guess they didn’t know who she was. I hold this comforting thought inside, cherishing it.
Holding it close. But poor Jax . . . What will they do to him? Will he be next for the Revealer Chip?

‘I’ll do anything you want,’ I say flatly. ‘Just let him go.’ I don’t know if I can trust Cavendish, but it’s all I have to hang on to – the
thought that my friend won’t get hurt.

‘Good, I’m glad you’re seeing sense,’ says Cavendish crisply. ‘Now those antibiotics have brought you back round to us, we can begin the procedure.’ He smiles
but there’s no humour in his eyes. ‘You could think of it as going home.’

I turn my head to the wall. I’m numb and cold inside. Nothing could be worse than this. I almost wish I’d never woken up in the first place. Never had a taste of a real life. Of
friendship. Maybe even love.

It’s over. I’m going back. Back into the coma world.

I
don’t struggle or resist. How could I? Jax’s life might depend on my cooperation. They attach me to tubes with needles under my skin.
I’m in the bed for now and I wonder if they’ll put me in the pod later, once I’m out? I glance across the room at it and lick my dry lips. They’ll put me in and keep me
there, like a spider under a glass.

I keep my eyes wide open as long as I can but it’s no use.

I don’t fall down a hole or go towards a light or anything like that.

Everything just sort of shifts.

One minute I’m in a bed in Riley Hall, the next, I’m standing in the middle of the school playground. People are playing football around me and it’s like the world is spinning
and loud and I’m the only thing still and quiet. I look around and everything feels one hundred per cent real. The ball comes towards me and I instinctively block it and cross it back to the
nearest boy. It felt like a real ball and the boy who mumbles ‘Cheers’ is as solid as I am. I take a deep sniff and that’s how I can tell the difference. It doesn’t smell
like anything at all here. I lift my arm and smell my own armpit. Nothing. Like I’m just some sort of 3D avatar.

The whistle goes for the end of breaktime but I just walk towards the gates. I hear an adult voice shout at me but don’t bother to turn round. I can do what I like. Outside the school I
cross the road and don’t bother looking. I feel the whoosh of cars going past but of course, nothing hits me. You’d think that would be liberating but it isn’t. I feel numb
inside.

A thought hits me forcefully then. I suddenly know with more certainty than I’ve ever felt that Cavendish won’t free my friend. And they’ll probably kill me if I ever wake up
again. There’s nothing to lose. This is my chance to wreck things for the Facility, even if I die in the attempt.

I start to walk in the familiar direction. There’s no one around at all. Now I’ve made up my mind, my brain has stopped bothering to people this movie with extras. I lift a single
finger into the sky and shout, ‘Are you getting all this, Cavendish?’ Something moves at the corner of my eye and I flinch but it’s only that cat again. I feel a tug of affection
and squat down, coaxing it over. The cat arches its back, rubbing against my legs.