out.’
‘Didn’t Mrs Henderson have something to say about that?’
‘The MPs2 took her off in their van,’ Sam explained. ‘Everyone reckons she’s a headcase and it sounds like they’re gonna lock her in the loony bin.’
‘Reckons!’ Yves scoffed. ‘Is there any doubt about it?’
Troy winced as the small cage containing the Mexican firelegs was lifted out. They’d been sick when he’d first arrived with Mason, but the firelegs had recovered after Mrs Henderson altered their diet and built a ventilation bellows that blew in warm dry air, replicating their natural desert habitat.
Paul had been helping to look after the spiders for six months. He was the only person who got along with Mrs Henderson and Troy knew he’d be upset when he got back from parachute training and found that all the spiders were dead.
He thought about finding McAfferty and begging her to stop, but there were only two cages left inside and by the time he found her they’d be incinerated too.
‘I’m going in,’ Troy told Sam. ‘I’m half frozen.’
Yves turned towards him. ‘I told you it was a waste of time searching for Mavis in the dark.’
‘Clever dick then, aren’t you?’ Troy answered.
There was another flash as Troy entered the school building. He was completely exhausted: after Henderson was stabbed he’d helped administer first aid until the ambulance arrived, then he’d been questioned by the military police and joined in the hunt for Mavis. He’d been wearing the same kit all day and was even filthier than when he’d finished the flag exercise three hours earlier.
Most kids were outside watching the cages burn and Troy found the Group-B dorm empty. Like Group A before them, the six trainees had made private zones for themselves by hanging sheets and curtains from the ceiling.
Troy crouched in the space between his bed and the curtain and slid out the cigar box. He opened up a tiny crack and was alarmed to see two hairy legs shoot through the gap towards him.
‘No, don’t!’ he whispered desperately. Someone could walk in at any second and he couldn’t close the box without crushing her legs. ‘Back up, back up.’
Eventually he tilted the box on to its side and gave it a sharp tap against the floor, making Mavis drop down to the bottom. Troy sighed as the lid snapped shut and he looked through one of the air holes that Joan had drilled in the box to keep the dormice alive.
‘Where the hell am I supposed to hide you?’ he asked himself.
*
The cage felt different as Paul and Marc rose up in the darkness. Parris stood by the gate and the four burly French soldiers spread themselves out, leaving Paul and Marc squashed at the back. Thick clouds blotted out the moon and even the giant balloon hovering above the cage was barely visible. But the airfield below was ablaze, lit by a pair of searchlights aimed out of the hangar doors.
Paul didn’t know exactly what the Frenchmen were training for, but they’d clearly been picked for special operations on the basis of strength and fitness. If any of them were scared, they weren’t about to show it in front of their comrades. Their humour was black, but jokes about broken necks didn’t help Marc to feel any better.
‘Ignore it,’ Paul said soothingly, as Marc’s fingers clutched the cage’s wire rungs tightly.
‘Sergeant Parris,’ one of the Frenchmen shouted in bad English, ‘has anyone ever been killed jumping off this thing?’
Parris smiled. ‘I can say with complete honesty that nobody has ever come back to complain about the training I’ve given them.’
The soldiers laughed, but Marc dry heaved.
‘Try not to think about it,’ Paul said quietly. ‘Try and imagine something good. Like eating a massive spoonful of jam, or sneaking up to Luc while he’s asleep and doing a big shit on his face.’
Marc laughed. ‘Eww! You’re sick.’
Paul wanted Marc to focus on anything apart from the jump. ‘Or imagine my sister naked. I know how badly you fancy her.’
‘I don’t,’ Marc said defensively. ‘Well, maybe a bit, but girls like older guys so I’ve got no chance while PT’s around.’
‘So who’s your dream girl?’ Paul asked. ‘Movie star, singer, or whatever?’
Marc paused for thought, but before he could answer the balloon stopped rising and the metal gate slammed open.
‘Remember your training, people,’ Parris shouted, as he looked down at the officer on the ground, waiting for the all-clear. ‘Gaston, hook up. Jump on my mark.’
The huge soldier screamed, ‘I love you, Maman!’ as he flung