The Declaration

apprehensively.
    ‘Come on,’ Peter said hurriedly. He scrambled out of the foliage and pulled Anna to her feet. She emerged, scratched and trembling.
    ‘Was that the . . .’ she began to say, but was unable to finish the question.
    ‘Maybe,’ Peter said. ‘Although the Catchers don’t tend to advertise their presence like that. It was probably the police. Probably nothing to do with us.’
    Anna nodded silently and followed Peter as he started to walk again. But then she frowned.
    ‘What’s wrong with your leg?’ she asked.
    Peter shrugged. ‘Nothing. Come on, we have to be quicker.’
    He started to walk again, but Anna could see him wincing. Every time he stepped on his left leg, his body contorted slightly.
    ‘You’re hurt,’ she said flatly. ‘Peter, you’re hurt.’
    ‘So what if I am?’ Peter snapped. ‘Come on. We need to get out of the village. We can hide in the fields just outside. They’re only a little bit further.’
    He was sweating, Anna noticed, and his face was white. Quickly, she stopped him and pulled up his trouser leg. There was a large gash just above his ankle with blood encrusted in it.
    ‘Peter,’ she gasped. ‘What happened?’
    He sighed. ‘The tunnel,’ he muttered. ‘I caught it on something.’
    As she looked more closely, she realised that his lower leg was swelling up, and when she touched the surrounding skin, she felt Peter wince.
    ‘You can’t walk anywhere like this,’ she whispered. ‘You just can’t.’
    ‘I have to,’ Peter said, gritting his teeth. ‘There’s no alternative.’
    Anna bit her lip.
    ‘There is one alternative.’
    ‘What? Get caught?’ Peter said, forcing himself to walk on a few steps, but obviously finding it increasingly difficult. ‘Never. I’m not going back, Anna, and nor are you.’
    ‘We could go to Mrs Sharpe’s. Hide there for a bit.’
    Peter looked at her incredulously. ‘Turn up on a Legal’s doorstep and ask her to hide us? Have you gone mad?’
    Anna blanched. ‘I just thought —’
    ‘Yeah, well don’t, OK? I’ll do the thinking,’ Peter said angrily. He put his weight on his left leg and yelped as he did so.
    Anna’s eyes narrowed. She was tired and irritable. ‘Fine. Because your thinking has worked perfectly so far,’ she said sarcastically. ‘Any moment now the Catchers will be after us. You can’t walk, and we’ve got nowhere to go. Don’t you think they’ll find us, if we’re hiding in a field somewhere?’
    She folded her arms defensively. Peter turned to look at her and Anna thought she could see fear in his eyes.
    ‘Anna, she’ll turn us in. She’s a Legal. Come on, there’s got to be an alternative. And we have to find it before it gets light.’
    ‘But it’s already getting light,’ Anna said urgently. ‘Look.’
    Peter looked up at the sky, which was gradually taking on a paler blue hue.
    ‘We can’t,’ he said, sounding less certain. ‘It’s too risky.’
    Anna thought quickly. ‘She’s got a summer house in her garden,’ she said cautiously.
    ‘A summer house?’ Peter had stopped again.
    ‘She used to tell me about it because her husband used it as a storeroom and she kept meaning to clear it out, but never got round to it,’ Anna continued. ‘I was going to help her, but then it was time for me to go back to Grange Hall.’
    Peter looked around furtively.
    ‘Do you think we could hide there? Just for today, I mean?’ he asked, his voice now serious. ‘Are you sure Mrs Sharpe never uses it?’
    Anna shook her head, then nodded, then shook her head again. ‘I don’t know,’ she said eventually. ‘I don’t think so, but it was a year ago.’
    Peter sighed. ‘Can we get to the summer house from out here?’
    Anna nodded nervously, and they made their way back to Mrs Sharpe’s house. Then she and Peter scurried to the tall wooden gate that separated Mrs Sharpe’s front garden from her back garden, where Anna picked up a small rock from the ground.
    ‘You’re not going to smash something are you?’ Peter sounded worried, but Anna shook her head.
    ‘It isn’t a rock,’ she explained to Peter. ‘It’s for hiding the key. Mrs Sharpe showed me it. Look.’
    Carefully, she opened the false rock and took out a key. Her fingers were trembling too much to put it in the lock, so Peter took over, opening the gate and locking it behind them when they were through.
    Quickly they darted across Mrs Sharpe’s beautifully manicured lawn, behind which lay