Wenclair - a New Term at Nevermore

Chapter 76

The door clicked twice and opened. Although she had not entirely known what she was expecting, Bianca was surprised to see that the 'guards' were just normies; normies with weapons, but nevertheless, just young adults wearing trendy clothes and directing group B out of the microphone room.

"Group C to microphones.", an announcement rang out, in the same calm voice as the lifts, but the atmosphere was not in the least calm. Group B had taken sight of Bianca and either started to run or gained courage and started to surround the door, from which guards were now pouring; there must have been twenty of them, armed with the same sticks as the police sometimes were, facing up against a teenager with a sword and maybe fifteen sirens.

"Anyone who's not fighting, to the closest dormitory to the door!" A rather weak battle-cry, but nonetheless at these words the guards charged forward, the group led by Bianca reciprocated, and the scared lot behind them raced for the dormitory.

"Group C to microphones." Bianca intercepted three sticks that went for her with her sword which, blunt from misuse, did not slice adequately but put pretty significant dents in the things. A group of three guards went for the door, but they were pinned to the ground and the weapons wrenched from their grips.

"Group C to microphones." Sirens streamed from the dormitory, ready to join the fight. Bianca continued to use her sword to intimidate, rather than to injure, and within forty-five seconds the guards were incapacitated or forced back into the microphone room and locked in - the brave girl with short white hair had stolen the physical keys from one of them.

"Stop! Hands on heads, face down on the floor, everybody! Security to level 1!" It was Damien's voice, booming through the loudspeaker.

"Groups of twelve!" Bianca had memorised the maximum lift load. "Grab a keycard from any guard. Get to level thirteen offices, second corridor on the left, into the fancy flat. You -" Bianca addressed the white-haired girl - "lead the first group. Take this card to open the flat door." She handed away her top-security card and took another from a guard who was sitting against the wall, surrendered.

All was a go. Keeping the sword with her, Bianca seized her briefcase and gathered up eleven of the strongest sirens. Five groups went before them, and every time the lift returned back down, it brought back twelve of the security force, so they acted as a defence until they were the last group left. They packed in, and one hammered his fist on the door close button, escaping just in time from the two conscious security guards that had not anticipated their feint dash in and then out of a dormitory.

"Level thirteen. Offices."

The hallway was deserted, presumably due to the five other bands of wild teenagers who had made their mad escape through it. At the end of the second corridor on the left, the door to Bianca's flat was left open, and her mother was restrained on the sofa, silent and angry.

"Mother, I understand that I have reneged on my promise. My intentions are explained in the letter on my desk, which contains no return address. Thank you for... there's the problem. I can't think of anything to thank you for. Would you like to be staged as a victim?"

Bianca's mother took a deep breath. "Yes, stage me as the victim here, because I am one, bands of teenagers gallivanting through my property. You lot could at least salvage some chance I have of actually marrying my fiancé now. Pleasure to see the back of you, Brandy Jane."

No security went to the flat. Bianca was pleased: it meant that the siren song she had used almost in excess over the past couple of days had worked, that Damien was so mortified he might do anything to upset his wife-to-be he wouldn't dare send his forces into her territory. At this time of night the lobby was silent, as were the dark streets outside. It was such a joy to feel the biting cold of February wind and know it meant true freedom.