The Declaration

pitch black too and if it hadn’t been for the sound of Peter behind her and his stupid jokes she’d have been tempted to give up ages ago.
    ‘Peter, I think we’re there,’ she said, feeling around for any twist in the tunnel that might explain the sudden wall in front of her. ‘But I can’t find an opening.’
    ‘Huh. OK, can you feel around for a grate or something?’
    Anna felt around again. There wasn’t much room to manoeuvre, but slowly and methodically, she felt every centimetre of the wall in front of her, hoping for something – anything – that would indicate the way out.
    ‘I . . . I can’t feel anything,’ she said eventually.
    There was a pause, then Peter said, ‘OK, hold still, I’m coming.’ Moments later Anna found herself pressed into the slimy ground, her cheek forced into the corner, as Peter made his way to the end by clambering on top of her.
    ‘I . . . can’t . . . breathe . . .’ she complained, but Peter wasn’t listening.
    ‘I’m going to get us out, don’t you worry about that,’ he was muttering, and Anna was surprised to hear a tinge of fear in his voice.
    Then she heard a yelp of what sounded like terror and she shut her eyes tightly.
    The next thing she knew, Anna was being pelted with dry mud, which found its way into her ears, her nose, her mouth, and, as soon as she opened them to try and make out what was happening, her eyes.
    This was the end of everything, she thought to herself resolutely. This was what happened to Surpluses who thought they could break the rules. They were going to be buried alive.
    But a moment later, Peter was scrabbling forwards and Anna felt his weight lifting from her. As she shook the mud from her face, she realised that he wasn’t yelping in terror, but in delight.
    ‘We’re nearly there. The tunnel goes up from here. It’s just blocked with mud from the Outside.’
    Excitedly, Anna wriggled her arm free and felt the mud for herself. She was touching the Outside, she thought to herself deliriously. It was so close she could actually feel it.
    Peter hauled himself through the muddy opening above them and reported that the tunnel continued in the same direction above. Anna followed him, feeling happier now that Peter was in front. As she wriggled up the tunnel, she felt a welcome shiver of cold. It was wind, she realised. She could feel the wind.
    The wind grew stronger as they continued along the passageway, turning from a welcome delivery of fresh air to an icy, biting squall that whistled down the tunnel, sounding like some kind of banshee. But Anna barely noticed the cold, or the wailing; she barely noticed the slime or the grazes on her knees, hands and elbows. Up in front of her, just beyond Peter, she could see something that made her feel strong enough to cope with anything. She could see the night sky. Just a fraction of it; mostly all she could see was a wall of some sort that jutted out in front of the tunnel’s opening. But just there on the top right-hand corner, was the tiniest vision of a star, shining against a black sky, not hidden behind a grey blind, but right there in front of her. Anna had never seen anything quite so beautiful in her whole life.
    Moments later, Peter disappeared, and within a few seconds she could see his grinning face at the mouth of the tunnel.
    ‘We’re here, Anna Covey. Give me your hand.’
    With Peter’s help, she scrambled out of the narrow opening, and for a moment she couldn’t even speak. Feeling the bitter cold air against her skin and listening to the distant hum of cars and the first, early morning sounds of birds singing, she found herself unable to take it all in. She’d thought she’d be unfazed. After all, she’d been Outside when she went to Mrs Sharpe’s; had thought of herself as quite the worldly Surplus. But this was different.
    The whole world was suddenly available to her, right there in front of her, waiting to be felt and heard and smelt. She had seen the moon before, of course, luminescent and bright, but only in stolen glimpses on cold evenings as she stared at it longingly through three thick panes of glass and imagined what it would be like to sleep outside underneath it. Now it felt like it was almost within reach, its perfect roundness unsettling her unperfect self and filling her with awe and something very close to ecstasy. She looked around wide-eyed and she didn’t dare open her mouth in case she screamed or cried or laughed, or even all three