I had anticipated a much longer flight than what we got. By the time we landed it felt like we had been in the air for somewhere between thirty-to-forty-five minutes. We spent the majority of this time wearing eye-masks which left very little space for me to see out of. The best I could manage to see with them on was a small sliver of light from the bottom.
"We're going to get out in a minute!" said Abigail, her voice reaching us through the headphones we were wearing, "Keep your eye-masks on until you're told to take them off. When the door opens keep your head down and follow the lead of the officer guiding you. We're almost there guys, you should all be really proud of yourselves this takes a lot of guts."
I wasn't sure about the others but Abigail's words of praise fell on deaf ears for me. For the duration of the flight to our destination I had gone over everything that had happened since I was evacuated from my home. From Tiffany pretending to choke on a piece of bread outside the coach to give a distraction for the three teenagers that had run away, to me being held at gunpoint by a Pied Piper officer for the offense of stopping to tie my shoelace, to the treadmill torment we had all experienced. None of it had the makings of something promising. More than anything I was afraid that I had already made the wrong choice several times over to trust the Pied Piper organisation and, by extension, the government.
With nothing to do on the flight over except sit and think I was able to admit to myself a nasty truth: I had gone along with everything the Pied Piper officials wanted not because I trusted them, but because I was afraid to refuse their demands. They hadn't given me a choice about the evacuation, nor about being put on that damn treadmill; and the choice of being brought to the facility felt like no choice at all the more I thought about it. I wished I had listened to my friend and had gone on the run with him instead.
Or did I? There was still that lingering what if that coming to the facility was the better option. If you're supposed to trust them, then they should also trust you, said a part of my brain, they clearly don't trust you because they've made you wear this stupid eye-mask.
The helicopter began to descend towards the ground. Just remember, I thought to myself, you're an idiot who doesn't know anything, so don't go making rash judgments about this situation. I nodded, trying to agree with myself. The nasty stitch in my gut had lessened to a dull ache instead of the incredible pain it had started as.
The landing of the helicopter wiped my mind clean of thoughts for a moment. Moments later the door was slid open.
"Seatbelts off," said Abigail.
I fumbled getting mine open. A fresh blast of cold air propelled by the helicopter rotors made me wish I was wearing more than just overalls. A gloved hand gripped my arm before I was done with my seatbelt. The grip was very firm, clearly belonging to an adult male. Someone else in the helicopter undid my seatbelt for me and then I was pulled out of my seat.
I fell to one knee on the way out, feeling soft mildew grass for a moment before being lifted to my feet. I kept my head low as the helicopter blades continued to whir and slow above my head. All you'd need to do is jump to cut your head clean off, my dark inner thoughts reminded me.
The man guiding me pulled me forwards. I found my footing and kept up with whoever it was. I tried looking at the sliver of light in the eye-mask but the most I could make out was green grass. Wherever we were was somewhere remote, with very crisp, clean air, perhaps even more crisp than the air had been at Lintern Village. Somewhere remote, I thought, Looks like I got my wish.
The helicopter noise died down and was quickly replaced by a lot of hustle and bustle. Loud beeping of a machine, perhaps a forklift or truck backing up, filled the air. Engine noise and workman-like chatter was soon everywhere around me. Had they brought us to a construction site or something?
The soft grass underfoot changed to hard concrete. I could just make out the clapping steps of the others behind me. Joined with the lighter plimsoll footsteps were many more heavy bootsteps.
The brisk wind lessened a little bit and the person guiding me brought me to a hard stop.
"Four mice and one Executive to be brought down to level three," said the person holding me. It was a gruff man's voice.
There was a beep, the kind that reminded me of using an oyster card for public transport, and then I was pulled forward again.
A loud, heavy metallic grinding sound occurred in front of me. After a moment I was brought further forward. The clanging of metal grating beneath my feet, mixed with a certain springy-suspension told me I was likely brought into some kind of elevator. As unnerved as I was it was nice to be away from the cold and into a place that was uncomfortably chill instead.
The footsteps of Tiffany, Mikayla, Blain, and Abigail (hers being noticeably the clack of high heels), filled the space around me. There came a sudden ding sound and then a return of the heavy metalic grinding. Presumably the elevator doors we had just passed beyond had just shut again.
"Masks off," said Abigail, sounding a little flustered.
The hand which had pulled me along eased off. I reached up and took the eye-mask off. My eyes felt heavy and smarted to see the bright fluorescent light inside the large elevator we were in.
I spotted the others. Tiffany, Blain, and Mikayla were all wincing against the bright light. The elevator we were in felt old and dirty as if it belonged to the entrance to a mineshaft.
It had been a Pied Piper officer, dressed in full military-style gear with a machine gun slung over one shoulder, that had been the one to guide me forward; he, out of the few that must have helped the others hurry from the helicopter to the elevator, was the only one that had stayed with us rather than remain above.
The elevator began to descend. I looked to the buttons to see there were six floors to choose from. Abigail reached forward and tapped the number two button.
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"It's been great meeting you guys," she said, "But I've got lots of work to catch up on. I'll be in touch with you guys soon."
"Wait, you're leaving already?" said Mikayla, voicing a question we were all thinking.
"I'm sorry," said Abigail, "I would have liked to have time to show you all around but there's so much that needs to get done. Part of my job is making sure everyone's stay here is optimal, so don't worry, it won't be long before you see me again."
The elevator came to a shuddering stop and the doors opened. Ahead we could see a checkpoint of armed Pied Piper officers. Abigail looked back, forcing a smile and waving us goodbye, and then raised her arms just in time for a Pied Piper officer to run a metal detector over her person. The elevator door shut again and, after a moment, we continued on down.
"I wonder how deep this goes," I said, looking at the others.
My voice was raspy and strained and much quieter than I intended. Tiffany's lips firmed up as she looked at me and hugged herself for warmth.
The elevator continued going down…down…down…
I took a glance upward and noticed a camera trained on us. I hadn't noticed the cameras in Lintern's Gym so I was determined to account for the ones that were going to be at this facility.
With every second the elevator continued to descend I felt my anxiety get worse. Just how far down does this elevator go? Hell, maybe? I thought, morbidly.
The elevator came to a stop finally and after a loud ping shuddered slowly open. Like with level two we could see a checkpoint ahead and not much else. The Pied Piper officer led us out of the elevator. He pressed an ID card hanging from a zip-cord on his belt onto a reader held by one of the officers standing at the checkpoint.
He stepped aside and the four of us had metal detectors waved over every inch of us. The metal detector screeched when it reached Mikayla.
"What metal have you got on you?" said the Pied Piper officer with the metal detector.
Mikayla stuck out her tongue, showing a stud piercing there.
"I've got a piercing on my tongue and my stomach," she said.
"Remove them," said the Pied Piper officer.
"Will I get them back?" said Mikayala.
"Yes," said the Pied Piper officer.
Whilst the rest of us stepped through Mikayla went through the hassle of removing her tongue and belly button piercing. We all looked away whilst she removed her piercings to give her some privacy. When she was finished she passed through the checkpoint and then had to go through the process of putting her piercings back, again with us waiting and not looking in her direction to give her the privacy she needed.
On the other side of the checkpoint a tall, bearded man who looked to be in his late-twenties to mid-thirties was standing waiting for us. He was dressed in a black polo shirt and black khakis. There was something about his gelled-back brown hair and chubby face that made me immediately think of school teachers I had known. That, and his friendly smile.
"How's it going guys?" he said in an Australian accent.
"Afternoon," he said, shaking my hand.
"Afternoon," he said each time he shook the other's hands too.
"I'm Michael, but you guys can call me Mike," he said, gesturing enthusiastically to himself with both thumbs, "I'm one of the officials in charge of making sure your stay here goes smoothly. If you have any problems then you can bring them to me and I'll do my best to get it sorted."
He looked at me.
"You must be Burgess," he said.
"Y-yeah," I said, forcing a smile.
Mike made a finger-gun gesture and declared the names of each person he pointed at.
"We've got Mikayla, we've got Tiffany, and we've got Blain."
None of us seemed to know how to respond to Mike's friendly enthusiasm. He seemed a bit too nice compared to the rough treatment we had all experienced so far throughout the evacuation process.
"Right," he said, "I've got your IDs here. Make sure you look after them because you're going to need them a lot."
Mike reached into his pockets and pulled out four plastic IDs. He handed them over. I looked at mine and saw it had the photo which had been taken when I was at the coach depot. The ID also had my name, age, and which evacuation point I had been brought from; Lintern Village.
The ID had a little clip which made it easy to fix onto the front of my overalls on the left side. The others did the same.
"O-key do-kay," said Mike, "I'm sure you're all pretty tired and could do with a bit of a rest, maybe something to eat; heck, maybe even a bathroom break and a shower, amirite?"
He paused as if he had just told a joke. We all stood silently and a moment later, like an animatronic that had returned to life after a pause, Mike continued with what sounded like a practiced spiel.
"This level will be your new home during your stay here," he said, "There are twenty 'blocks', which are basically dorm rooms you'll be staying in, in groups of five."
He gestured behind himself, though there was just a large set of steel doors behind him for us to see.
"On the left are the A-blocks, that's where the female living quarters are. On the right are the male blocks - you get the idea."
Mike checked a note he had written onto his hand in pen.
"Tiffany and Mikayla you'll be joining block A-10, and Burgess and Blain you'll be in B-9."
Mike dropped his hand and forced another friendly smile.
"So I'll give you guys a squiz around and then you'll have the rest of the day to settle yourselves in."
I raised my hand. Mike, like Abigail had done, looked a little amused that I was polite enough to raise my hand to ask a question.
"Can we make phone calls down here?" I asked.
"Ah, no," said Mike, gripping his belt like a cowboy, "You'll need special permission to do that. Ask me about that tomorrow sometime, things are a bit busy today."
Mikayla raised her hand.
"Yes," said Mike.
"So can we leave whenever we want?" said Mikayla, gesturing over her shoulder to the checkpoint and the elevator beyond (which had since closed).
"Ah, no," said Mike, "You'll need special permission, but that's mainly just a procedure here for everyone's safety. If you decide you no longer wish to stay here we'll need to figure out a way to return you back to your original evacuation area, and that can take a few days to free up the time and space. We would prefer to handle any issues you're having here rather than burden our already extremely busy personnel with one of our valued mice leaving the facility."
"Mice?" said Blain, "What're you calling us mice or?"
I could sense the sudden tension and hostility from Blain. Mike grinned and shrugged.
"Oh, it's just a fun little nickname that's caught on around here for you teens. You know the story of the Pied Piper? Well I think the original story had the Pied Piper lead away rats instead of mice. Rats probably sounded a little harsh sounding so mice seemed to be the nicer option, don't you think?"
"Whatever, man," said Blain, clearly having had enough of Mike already.
"Any other questions guys before we cruise on?"
None of us spoke up.
"Too easy, too easy," said Mike, "Alrighty, away we go."
Mike spun round and moved like he was enjoying a silent disco towards the steel doors. He tapped his ID card and the doors slid open.