The Declaration

Pincent’s office and closed the door, but instead of going back to her dormitory, she leant back on the wall just next to Mrs Pincent’s door, her hands twisting together anxiously, her mind racing.
    She took a deep breath, and as she heard Mrs Pincent start talking – presumably into the telephone – she shook her head and turned to walk back to her dormitory. But as she did so she heard Mrs Pincent say her name and looked up in surprise. Mrs Pincent couldn’t be calling her, because she wasn’t to know she was still outside her office. Curious, Anna moved closer to the door.
    ‘Yes, Anna. Prefect. No, she couldn’t tell me a bloody thing. Stupid girl’s got no mind of her own, she’s been indoctrinated so well. I suppose I should take credit for it, really . . .’
    Anna’s heart quickened.
    ‘Look, it doesn’t matter – what matters is that I want rid of him,’ Mrs Pincent spat bitterly. ‘I thought we might get some useful information out of him but it’s useless. I don’t want him here any longer . . . No, I can’t send him away. The Authorities seem to see him as a useful experiment – see how a new Pending copes in a Surplus Hall. But I won’t have my hall used as a laboratory. Well, not that sort, anyway. No, I need your help . . . Yes, exactly. And it’s got to look natural. A stress-induced heart attack, maybe. If the little hero dies from an Opt-Out illness, the Authorities can hardly blame us, can they?’
    There was a pause, and Anna’s eyes widened in fear as she registered what Mrs Pincent had just said. Moments later, her House Matron started talking again.
    ‘Yes, I know . . . I see – not tonight? When, then? Tomorrow?’ she said darkly. ‘What do you mean, you’re working? You work for me, remember that. Well, all right then, it’ll have to be early morning. 4 a.m. . . . Yes, I’ll come and get you.’
    Her legs feeling like lead weights, Anna forced herself to move away from the door. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she felt as though she might faint, small dots appearing in front of her eyes. There had to be an explanation, she thought to herself desperately. Mrs Pincent would never say those things. She just wouldn’t. She couldn’t.
    But she had. Anna had heard her with her very own ears. Bile was rising up her throat and it was all she could do to stop herself from retching. Mrs Pincent wanted to get rid of Peter. Mrs Pincent was going to kill him.
    She closed her eyes briefly, trying to think of some way that she could have misunderstood what Mrs Pincent had said; some way to make things OK again, but she knew it was futile.
    And the worst thing, Anna realised – to her shame, because surely nothing could be worse than Mrs Pincent wanting Peter dead – the thing that hurt most of all, the words that had cut into her like a knife, were the ones Mrs Pincent had used to describe her. She had used the word ‘indoctrinated’ with vitriol, as if it was a bad thing. As if being a good Surplus, a Valuable Asset, everything that Anna had spent her life trying to be, was something Mrs Pincent held in contempt.
    Anna had never known the feeling of hatred before, but now it raged through her body like a rampant cancer, filling her with strength of emotion that she had never known before, and had no capacity to express or handle.
    Her head spinning, she found herself walking back towards her dormitory. Then, in a daze, she changed direction and made her way towards Staircase 2. She upped her pace until she was running, oblivious to the looks she was getting from the Middle Surpluses who were stepping out of her way and lowering their eyes in case this most terrifying of Prefects should notice them, and unaware of the slight figure of Sheila, watching her from the shadows.
    Mrs Pincent would not get away with it, Anna repeated over and over in her head as she ran. Could not get away with it.
    Anna, the stupid girl with no mind of her own, was going to make sure of that if it was the last thing she did.

Chapter Eleven
    5 March 2140
    Mrs Pincent is evil. Peter was right – Mrs Pincent is the most evil Legal who ever lived. I hate her. I hate her like I never knew I could hate someone before. I hate her so much I don’t know what to do with myself. She wants to kill Peter and I didn’t believe him. He’s got to escape, to get as far away from here as possible.
    I don’t think I want to stay here any more either. But where else can I go? I can’t run away