James slipped uneasily from the darkened Old School hallway, to the stairwell leading down to the warren of corridors constituting the New School. The silence of the sleeping school made him uncomfortable, but so did the idea of Iseult waiting for him, when any number of villains could be encroaching on her. He gently closed the heavy door that led to the top of the stairwell, wincing as the latch clicked loudly in the silence.
James frowned, inwardly cursing Iseult for being so willing to abandon common sense. He had always thought she was smarter than this, but obviously not. He had thought he was smarter than this too, yet he was seemingly throwing caution to the wind as well, as he crept down the stairs, ensuring that only Iseult was waiting on the staircase below.
"Twenty-seven minutes," she breathed when he finally appeared, his face set in a deliberate scowl. "I was beginning to think you weren't taking me seriously".
"How could I not take our own little warlord seriously?" he remarked coldly.
"I'm glad you're taking notes," she smiled. James clenched his jaw, irritated by her change of mood. The switching between her altered personality and her true personality was only confusing him.
"Is this really necessary, Iseult?" James asked as she began to skip down the steps, deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of corridors. "Surely there would be a better time? If we get caught..."
"Just trust me," she hissed, stopping and turning around to face him, trying to hold on to her patience. "Look James, I need you in this. I am more than willing to keep you involved, but for that to happen, I'm going to give you some advice. Every time you doubt me, or feel the urge to contradict me – don't!" James gritted his teeth, wanting more than ever to contradict her.
"I know you are finding it hard to trust me, but you can trust me. Right now, I need to know what Elmhirst is hiding, what he could have that would hurt us. I need to know what it is that you are trying so hard to keep from me. I could take your word for it, agree that it's just a bunker, ignore the uneasiness in your expression, your increased heart rate, your uneven breathing and you wide green eyes, but that's not how I am built. Whatever has you so worried down there, is just what I want to see. I see things differently than you do, so please, just trust me. I don't want to go back to detention, so chill out," she smiled, winking at him before turning and continuing to descend deeper and deeper into the bowels of the school.
James followed her sullenly, unable to find the same level of comfort that his accomplice seemed to have found.
"Well, I was wondering what was taking you guys so long". James glanced up and nearly broke his teeth as he clenched them together tightly.
"O'Connell," he sighed, barely able to conceal his irritation.
"Mr Alexander," O'Connell nodded, doffing an invisible hat. "How do you do?" Ian grinned with such delight that it took every ounce of strength James could muster, not to turn around and march back to his bedroom.
"Have you noticed anything?" Iseult asked, strolling up to Ian who was leaning casually against the door to the corridor that lead to the bunker.
"Nothing major," he shrugged. "There's no movement, or anything of the sort, but the door is locked. Perhaps the wonderful Head Boy could do us the honours?" he grinned again.
James clenched his fists and swept his hand across so the locks slid open, without looking at either Iseult or Ian.
"Hmmm, very nice Alexander – we might keep you," Ian grinned again, delighting in how his mere presence was irritating James so much.
"Drop it Ian," Iseult said, pushing the door open ever so slightly and scanning the room.
"I'm just having some fun," Ian sighed, nudging James as if they were friends.
"Does James actually look like he is a person who knows how to have fun?" she asked tightly. James scowled, but bit his tongue, trying to ignore her.
"Yeah – I guess you're right. He is a bit serious," Ian remarked, glancing at him carefully as Iseult strolled into the darkened hallway.
"I just don't put much weight on actively seeking trouble," James hissed, moving into the corridor after Ian and Iseult. The green lights above the doors cast an eerie, otherworldly glare to its walls. The beacons still remained silent, but James shuddered to think what it would mean if they were to flare. If the sirens rang; would that be it?
"No – and yet this is your second time breaking into this corridor," Iseult remarked coolly. "Not to mention that you fixed the captain's game, trained Charlotte against Elmhirst's wishes, and aided and abetted the first and only breakout the island has ever witnessed. You are just the model student," she sighed, paying much more attention to the door that was looming ahead of them, its glass panels giving them a very limit view into the darkened bunker.
"I'm just saying, given the current tensions on the island... this seems a bit reckless," he exhaled heavily.
"And still here you are," Iseult said, her tone considerably light.
"I guess I must be a bit reckless then," he mumbled to himself.
"And I'm the King of England, Alexander," Ian guffawed, too loudly for James' liking.
"Right so this is it?" Iseult asked, ignoring Ian's mirth and James glower, peering through the glass pane in the door, trying to see into the darkness.
"Yeah – it's locked with a security code," James sighed, jabbing his finger at the keypad to their right.
"Can you open it?" she asked, standing on her toes, desperate to gain a better view of the room. James rolled his eyes, as the door melted away before their eyes. Iseult nodded, a small smirk catching the corners of her mouth. He wasn't going to risk disabling the security lock again – not after how close they had been to capture last time.
"What on earth do they want this place for?" Ian whistled, gazing around the room in awe. James frowned, reforming the door once they were all safely through. It was huge. James had forgotten just how big the space was, organised with row upon row of cots, each with a student's name etched on the end of the accompanying trunk.
"The senior section is at the far end," James muttered, pointing to the other end of the cavernous hall.
"What do they think we'll need this place for though?" Ian asked, rewording his unanswered question. James glanced at Iseult, but she had zoned out. The warlord has returned, he thought irritably before shrugging at Ian, not wanting to interrupt Iseult's thought process. He had his own opinions, but the sooner they were out of here the better, so he planned to hold onto them for the time being. Though once he revealed to them what he had stumbled upon on his last excursion into the bunker, he would surely have to break his silence.
"How did you get out of here last time?" Ian asked as they started to walk along the aisles between the beds, shrouded in the overall darkness of the room, too uneasy to turn on the lights.
"There's a passage at the back. It leads down and comes out in the ocean, beneath the Western Cliffs," he explained.
"What sort of passage?" Iseult abruptly interrupted.
"Old and damp – narrow. You have to manoeuvre through it in single file," he explained. "It took a long time for Bennett to find our path out – we thought maybe he didn't know about it, maybe it was..."
"Elmhirst's escape route," Iseult nodded thoughtfully, drawing her own conclusions. "I knew he had to have one. If the island was to come under attack, this is where we would be sent," she explained. James resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He didn't need her alteration to figure that out.
"Why would we come under attack?" Ian asked, his expression clearly confused.
"Why? Because of what we are, because of what they are making here. For all intents and purposes this is an elitist and specialised army camp. If we were kept as a single fighting force, we would decimate any opposing army, readily available in the world. Fear can drive many people to take extreme actions. If they thought we were a threat to world safety they would attack," she explained.
"And yet we still haven't destroyed this school," Ian scoffed. "We are just that bloody dangerous". Iseult flashed him a warning glance. James smiled slightly as Ian seemed to cower a little beneath her gaze, looking the other way before he got himself in trouble. "And Elmhirst would protect us? He would hide us down here?" he continued trying to change the subject.
"It costs a lot of money to make us what we are. He would protect the product for as long as he can," she sighed in response.
"But you don't think he meant for us to evacuate the school if the worst outcome was to happen? That passage was only meant for his own evacuation?" Ian asked, but it wasn't Iseult who answered this time.
"No," James interrupted. "He has other plans for us". He couldn't hide the bitter tone from his voice, as he knew it was time to reveal the truth about just how deep Elmhirst's evil ran. In any case, the sooner he showed them what he had discovered, the sooner they could leave this place.
He strode to the end of the room, Iseult and Ian following quietly in his path, passing swiftly through the senior sleeping area. James tried to ignore the large, white letters of C. Owens, though it was difficult. He didn't pause, but continued past his own assigned cot to the door that led into the shower room. He glanced at the route they had followed to find the exit below the cliffs, but instead turned to another corridor, small and narrow, a corridor Charlotte had not ventured into. There was nothing there that screamed of things sinister, nothing that made it in anyway different to the other uniform corridors that comprised the New School; nothing except a heavy, fireproof door, both bolted and protected by security codes.
James stood before it a little uneasily, aware that the others were watching it apprehensively too. Lifting his hands, the bolts scraped back and the security system deactivated, releasing the door for him. It creaked open, the hinges screeching loudly in the silence.
James stepped over the threshold, moving to one side so that Iseult and Ian could follow. The cold hit them with an acute sharpness and there was a strange chemical smell that lingered in the air and clung to them, unwanted. Large shadows loomed before them, tall, broad and imposing. With a mere thought, James turned on the lights, illuminating the tight spaces left in the room. Three huge vats stood before them, filling the room almost to its high ceiling.
Iseult's eyes widened, her lips pressing together as if to suppress the shock that was trying to escape her. The little warlord looked horrified as she beheld the sight in front of her, her altered mind quickly working out what exactly stood before her. She hadn't even expected this, James thought ruefully.
"Did you find these the last time?" she breathed, her voice a husk of what it should have been.
"I did," James said grimly, glancing briefly at the huge vats that filled most of the room. The word toxic was clearly displayed on the side, but that wasn't what truly worried him. What really worried him were the pipes leading from the vats into the ceiling, where they abruptly disappeared - into the air conditioning system.
"And did Charlotte see them?" she whispered, moving cautiously around the offending objects. I thought she didn't exist anymore, he thought bitterly before shaking his head.
"No – I didn't... say it to her," he sighed. "She was freaking out when I came back to find her. Elmhirst somehow knew that she was down here. Anyway we had to leave and fast," he shrugged.
"As time went by I didn't have the heart to tell her. What was the point? I wanted to forget they ever existed. And then I found I couldn't tell her. Telling her would have made it real and you both know how reckless she was. God knows what she would have done". Neither of Charlotte's best friends seemed to see any argument in what he was saying, nor did they reprimand him for keeping it a secret from her. That alone, in a small way, allowed him to justify not telling her – telling any of them.
"It's no wonder you wanted to get her off this island," Ian remarked, his voice subdued, all teasing gone. James didn't respond. He didn't have anything he wanted to say.
"So this is his final play?" Iseult whistled, moving to the vats and stretching out her hand to stroke them tentatively. "He had to have one".
"What does it mean?" Ian asked, looking from Iseult to James. Iseult seemed to have zoned out once again, her pale brown eyes glazed, contemplating what Elmhirst was planning.
"I can't be sure," James said clearing his throat. "But if you look up at these pipes, they are leading straight to the air vents. When activated whatever this poison is – I'm presuming it's an aerosol poison - will be pumped throughout the school, through the air ducts".
"He means to poison us?" Ian grimaced. "Maybe going with the patrons wouldn't be so bad after all".
"Ian, stop being an idiot," Iseult growled, but she remained contemplative as she wandered further back among the vats. James folded his arms waiting for Iseult to make up her mind on what was to be done, if anything could be done.
"Is she always like this?" James asked as Iseult vanished from sight.
"Pretty much," Ian shrugged. "You get used to it... after a while". James raised an eyebrow at him, though he wondered if he would ever get used to her.
"And they are connected to the air ducts?" she asked. "You're sure?"
James frowned and glanced up at the ceiling, seeing all the different aspects that he could so easily tear apart, reorganise and reconstruct, that was if Elmhirst hadn't been so damn paranoid about what they were able to do. James exhaled irritably. "Yes – it leads to the main air-conditioning system," he explained. "That means if he needed to use this... poison, it would be spread throughout the school – Old and New".
"But why would he need to use it? When would he..." Ian began.
Iseult silenced him, raising a hand, gazing at the vats thoughtfully. "If I was Elmhirst..." she began closing her eyes, trying to see the world through their headmaster's eyes. "The students are too valuable to waste – they cost too much money to produce. The academy would lose too much money if they were cast away so frivolously, but it would mean ruination if they were captured, if somebody found out what had been done here, if somebody else figured out how to manipulate the genes..." she said in a clear voice. "So the school would be under attack from outsiders, he would summon the entire student body to the bunker..." she whispered. "Initially it would be to protect us, to keep us from them, but if things did not work out in his favour, then he would use this," she whispered.
"So the bunker that is meant to protect us would become our mausoleum?" Ian breathed.
"It makes sense I guess, but why is it connected to the main system – those pipes will bring the toxin all through the school building, if not further than that. Why not just connect it into the hall directly? It would be more effective," James asked tightly.
"The forgotten?" Ian suggested. "Maybe he hasn't planned for them to be so accommodated?"
"No..." Iseult trailed off, pressing her closed fists against her temple as if trying to see what Elmhirst's reasoning behind it was. "This is the last resort. This is his solution for when he has lost all control".
"If we revolt, if we seize power from him – he has lost all control," James said plainly.
"And he rushes down here, fearing for his life. He programmes the gas to be released throughout the school and he escapes through his old, untainted corridor. He will have killed us all and fled before the poison has settled," she breathed, her own realisation dawning on her face.
"It must reach further than the school then," Ian agreed. "The arena? The land itself? The village? He has surely compensated for it all".
"I would imagine so," Iseult nodded.
"So if we attack and are successful..."
"Which we will be," Iseult interjected.
"Right," James agreed. "He will just kill us anyway". Iseult looked up, her pale brown eyes searching his gaze, searching for the answer.
"Can't you just... deactivate it?" Ian asked, looking from Iseult to James doubtfully.
"I had thought about that," James sighed. "It's computer activated, which I could still disable, but Elmhirst seems to understand, better than we would give him credit for, just what alterations are on the island. James glanced at the computer screen by the door, his alteration searching for some failsafe way of deactivating it, but he couldn't. "He has it rigged so that any interference will trigger an alarm. If we were to mess with it, he would know. So for now we can't," James offered. "Not only that, but this is just the main server. He doesn't need to be here to activate it. If he can find another safe zone or escape he could access the system from there and trigger its release".
"So let me get this straight. We can't deactivate it. Elmhirst doesn't even need to get to this room to activate it, and rebelling will force him to use it with little mercy?" Ian summarised, looking from Iseult to James with a look of pure disbelief.
"More or less," James nodded, pressing his lips together.
"Well, he plays a very thorough and evil game," Ian whistled, in a strange tone of admiration.
"We had better go," Iseult finally said, her face scrunched up with a mixture of irritation, worry and confusion. James sighed and nodded, switching off the lights and leading the way out.
"This revolution is unravelling before it has ever even begun – isn't it?" Ian sighed, as James resealed the door once more. He turned to face Ian and Iseult, each looking incredibly disappointed, though Iseult's irritation was far more palpable.
"No". Even James was surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth. He had always thought he was the least rebellious of the three, and he still believed he was, but their time had come to start making a difference. In any case he was running out of options if he ever wanted to see Charlotte again. "We just need a plan," he began, surprised as he felt his lips contort into a triumphant smile. "So we can't solve this problem right now. On the day, all we'll need is a bit of speed to take Elmhirst's last play away from him," James said, clapping Ian on the shoulder.
"And then we will show him exactly what we are capable of".
Thanks so much for reading Altered. I hope you are enjoying my story so far - if you are please don't forget to vote and comment - I really am curious at what you think of this chapter! It was... eh... tricky to say the least ;) Next update Friday! Thanks again, Sorcha x