Nightrise (20 page)

Tonight there was no moon. But the entire prison was a strange, electric white, the razor-wire fence glittering all the way around the perimeter. Jamie could see the windows of the four units and thought of the boys he had met — Baltimore, Green Eyes, DV, and the rest of them — and felt sorry that he was leaving them behind. They had made mistakes. They had done stupid things. But he had known them and he had thought none of them were really so bad.

The medicine wing rose up in front of them with the solid, cinder-block wall stretching out behind. Joe Feather had a key to the door and let Jamie in. They passed into a reception area with a desk and two small clinics leading off a narrow corridor behind. There was an eye chart on one wall, a couple of antidrug posters on the other. Jamie noticed another camera watching him from the corner. How could the two of them do anything when they were being followed all the time?

Joe Feather knelt down and pretended to examine his wound.

"The camera can see us but it can't hear," he whispered. "They will expect me to use the telephone…to call the nurse. I will pretend to do that. You must take this…" Jamie felt something metallic being pressed into his hand. "This is the master key," Feather continued. "It opens the cells in all four units…

North, South, East, and West. It should also open the cells in the Block. I can't be sure of that. If it doesn't, there's nothing more we can do."

"How do I get to the Block?"

"There is a door at the end of the corridor."

Jamie glanced around, at the same time letting out a groan of pain for the sake of the camera. It was true.

There was a single door just past the two clinics. And — of course, he should have been able to tell from the layout of the building — the corridor was a sort of tunnel, running directly through the outer wall.

Meanwhile, Joe Feather had gone over to the telephone and tapped out a number. Somewhere inside the prison complex, other supervisors would be watching his every move. The first rule of prison life was that there should be no surprises. Every minute of the day had to be exactly the same as the day before.

The fact that a boy had been hurt and needed medical aid was a break from routine and the other guards would be on full alert. Feather was pretending to talk to the nurse at the end of the line but in fact he hadn't been connected. He was actually talking to Jamie.

"I've fixed the generator," Joe continued: "The electric generator in the yard. It has an override system.

Sometimes we have to shut it down for repair. It will cut out very soon now and it will take them time to bring the emergency generator online. That will give us at least a minute with no cameras, no lights, and all the prison doors automatically set to manual. That is when you will deal with your friend. He's in cell fourteen."

"Won't there be guards?"

"There's only one supervisor on duty during the graveyard shift. Leave him to me."

"Why are you doing all this?" Jamie asked.

Joe looked up from the telephone and allowed himself a brief smile. "I already told you. You're one of the Five."

''Yes. But one of the five what? What does it mean?"

Without any warning, the lights blinked out.

"Move!" Joe commanded.

He had a flashlight and flicked it on. Jamie followed him down the corridor and waited as he unlocked the door at the end with a key of his own. Everything was pitch-black, but the beam of the flashlight picked up a few details as Joe swung it from side to side: a unit almost identical to his own, a corridor lined with cell doors, a table bolted into the floor, a bank of monitors, a supervisor…already rising to his feet, reaching for the canister of CS gas attached to his belt.

"What…?" the man began.

Joe hit him with his flashlight. The light beam threw crazy shadows across the far wall. Jamie heard the supervisor grunt. He folded forward and collapsed.

"Go!" Joe was already dragging the unconscious man back into his seat. There was a paperback book on the desk in front of him and Joe was arranging him so that when the lights came back on, it would look as if he was leaning forward, reading a page. Jamie looked around him, trying to find his way. Joe threw him the flashlight. He caught it and ran forward.

The cell numbers were clearly printed beside each door. He had to move quickly. As soon as the emergency generator kicked in, he would be seen and — worse — the doors would be sealed electronically. He could hear shouting. It was coming from behind the locked doors. Some of the kids must have been awake and now found themselves in total darkness…a new experience for them. They were pounding their fists against the doors. He wondered if the same thing was happening in the units on the other side of the wall.

He reached number 14 and, using the flashlight, eased the key into the lock and turned it. With a sense of relief, he felt the lock open. He slid the door aside and stepped inside.

There was an eleven-year-old black boy lying on a bunk, wearing a T-shirt and shorts. He was small for his age but strong and wiry. He had short, curly hair and round, white eyes. There was a bandage on his wrist, just over the vein, and he was very thin. But otherwise he seemed unhurt. He was already awake and staring at the figure who had burst into his room. Jamie slid the door shut again — but not quite the whole way. He turned the flashlight on himself.

"Don't be scared," he said. "I'm a friend."

"Scott?" The boy on the bunk thought he'd recognized him, and for a moment Jamie was thrown. But, of course, he wasn't wearing the glasses. And in the half-light it would have been easy to mistake him for his brother, even with his short hair.

"I'm not Scott. I'm his brother…"

"Jamie!"

''Yes." Jamie felt a whirl of emotions. Scott had been here. This boy had met him. Perhaps he might know where he had gone. 'You're Daniel…is that right?" he asked.

"I'm Danny."

"I met your mother. She's been looking for you. She sent me to find you."

''You saw my mom?"

The lights came back on. Danny gasped, seeing the red stains all over Jamie's face. 'You're hurt!" he said.

"No. Don't worry. It's fake…"

Jamie wasn't sure what was meant to happen next. He was inside the cell with Daniel McGuire, inside the Block. The other prisoners were still hammering at their doors, shouting for attention. The lights were back on. The television cameras were in operation. The entire prison was in a state of maximum alert. What exactly had they achieved?

***

Colton Banes had seen the lights come on too.

He was in a jeep, being driven from the airstrip where he had landed in the four-seater Cessna that had carried him from Los Angeles. Max Koring was behind the wheel. He had known at once that something was wrong. Silent Creek could be seen for miles around, and darkness in this part of the desert was simply impossible —it was like some sort of enormous magic trick. As the two of them drove along the track, the lights flickered on and the prison reappeared.

Koring turned to him. "A power failure," he muttered. "It happens. Sometimes the generator cuts out."

"An accident?" Banes shook his head slowly. "Not tonight, I don't think…" He reached under his jacket and took out a gun. "Put your foot down," he snapped. "We need to raise the alarm."

But he was too late. The jeep was still a hundred yards from the main gates when the first shots were fired.

THIRTEEN

Eagle Cry

They had come from nowhere, riding out of the desert in dusty pickup trucks, open-top cars, and jeeps.

If this had been an old Western, Silent Creek would have been a fort and they would have been wearing war paint and feathers — for they were all Native Americans…at least thirty of them, from different tribes, firing guns and rifles as they approached the perimeter fence.

They were aiming at the arc lamps. One after another, the lamps shattered and darkness took hold once again. But more lights had come on inside the buildings. The supervisors knew they were under attack and they had weapons too. At the same time, the alarm had been raised in the outlying houses and more guards were pouring out, some of them half dressed, roused from their sleep.

One of the jeeps hurtled toward the fence, then swerved away at the last minute. There was a man standing in the back, clinging on to the side bars, and as he drew near, he threw something, a homemade grenade. It landed on the sand, bounced, then exploded — a ball of flame that tore a gaping hole in the perimeter fence. At once, a siren went off, howling uselessly into the darkness. On the other side of the prison, there was a. second explosion as another part of the fence was ripped open. Now one of the cars roared into the inner compound, the last strands of razor wire ripping apart as it burst through. Four men, almost invisible in the shadows, tumbled out and took up positions around the football field. Another explosion. This time it was one of the satellite dishes behind the teaching wing. The attackers had made sure there would be no more communications tonight.

Not that they needed to have bothered. Colton Banes was watching the attack with amazement, and already he had seen something that the attackers must have known from the start. Silent Creek was a maximum security youth correctional center. It had been built to remove the slightest chance of anyone breaking out. But nobody had considered the possibility of a well-armed force trying to break in. Worse than that, its position, in the middle of the Mojave Desert, had become its Achilles' heel. There was nobody for miles around. By the time anyone arrived to help, it would be far too late.

Their jeep drew level with one of the trucks and for a moment he had one of the attackers in his sights…

another man with black hair and eyes that were alight with excitement. The man was wearing jeans and a tattered T-shirt, and he'd painted two streaks of red and white down the sides of his face. He couldn't have been more than twenty years old. Banes took careful aim and fired. But at the last minute, Koring jerked the wheel, avoiding a pothole in the track. The shot went wild. The jeep swerved off the track.

Banes swore. The truck raced ahead.

"Who are they?" Koring rasped. His eyes were wide and he was sweating. Perspiration dripped from his moustache. It wasn't just the heat of the night. Colton Banes scared him. This situation was out of control. And that scared him more. "What do they want?"

"They're here for the boy!" Banes snarled. "Jamie Tyler. There can be no other reason."

"What do we do?"

"Kill him! Kill Tyler! It doesn't matter what else happens. He mustn't leave here alive."

***

Inside the Block, Jamie had heard the gunfire and the explosions. There was a loud bang and the lights failed again. His flashlight was still on and he swept it around him. All the other prisoners were awake now. He could hear them shouting and cheering in their cells. Daniel McGuire had already gotten dressed. Jamie had to admire him. He had been locked up for seven months and suddenly he had been woken in the middle of the night and in utter darkness by a stranger who seemed to be covered in blood.

A pitched battle was going on outside. But he was completely calm, waiting to be told what to do.

Joe approached, hurrying down the corridor behind the beam of a second flashlight. "My friends are here," he shouted. He no longer cared if the security cameras saw him. It didn't take a great deal of imagination for Jamie to see that the intake officer wouldn't be coming back. "Now we go!"

"What about the others?" Jamie asked.

There were twenty cells in the corridor, ten on each side. Flashing his own flashlight over them, he saw faces through the glass windows set in the doors. Not just boys — but girls too. He remembered what Alicia had once told him. The kidnappers had been interested in both sexes, girls and boys, provided they had some sort of paranormal ability. He had no doubt that this was where they had all ended tip. It was incredible. A prison within a prison. And he still had no idea why they had been brought here.

Joe Feather was waiting for him to go. But Jamie wasn't moving. "We can't leave them," he said.

"We have to! "Joe exclaimed. "My friends came for you. Only for you. It's too dangerous if we take them outside…"

"But they've done nothing wrong!" It was Daniel who was speaking. He had a high voice; it hadn't broken yet. "They're like me. They were all snatched and brought here."

Joe shifted from one foot to the other as if he were standing on burning coals. "When you are out of here, then you can help them. You can speak with the authorities. But if we don't go now, we will never leave."

Jamie knew that he was right. It would take them too long to open all twenty doors — and what about his friends back in the unit? He couldn't get them out either. Scott wasn't here. His first job was to get Daniel back to his mother. Then Alicia would be able to go to John Trelawny. And the senator would see to the rest of it.

"Joe's right. We have to go." He turned to Daniel. "But I promise you, we'll come back and help the others."

Daniel nodded and just for a second Jamie had the weird sensation of being, for the first time in his life, the older brother. For so many years he had looked up to Scott — even though they were the same age.

But Scott hadn't been around for a while and maybe in that time Jamie had changed. He'd had to start to think for himself.

There was another explosion and more shooting. The gunfire had intensified and Jamie guessed that the supervisors must be shooting back. Following Joe, they ran along the corridor into the medicine wing.

As soon as they were there and could look out of the windows, they saw the truth. A pitched battle was taking place in the prison grounds. There were gaping holes in three different parts of the fence, and the cage holding the generator had been blown apart. The generator itself was on fire. That explained the second power failure — and for some reason the emergency generator hadn't yet kicked in. Haifa dozen different vehicles had come to a halt in front of the four units, the dining hall, the gymnasium. He saw figures, little more than silhouettes, popping up to take a shot at the prison windows. There were brief flashes of white as the supervisors returned fire.