"Do the honours, gentlemen"
The soldiers all moved towards the students, all of whom yelled in alarm, and moved backward. The soldiers grabbed their guns and each fired a round into the ground. Recklessly, the whole of 11D tried to overpower the soldiers, but to no avail; the men were muscular and well disciplined, while the students were frantic and disorganised. The forty-nine-strong crowd was pushed together into an indignant pile of limbs, their bodies stringy and tired.
Another round of gunshots was fired over their heads. The students all ducked, their hands covering their heads instinctively. Seemingly, many of the students had yelled themselves hoarse; they were moving their mouths but no sound was being issued. A brief word from Jeyes beckoned the soldiers to return to the front of the room. He smiled.
"Well, now you've all got that out of your systems, I'll continue. Who here knows what I am referring to here"
Five hands rose slowly in the air. Among them were Dominic's, the American girl, Lindsay, and Julia Edwards, who had tears running down her cheeks. "And who here has some sort of idea of what the Battle Royale law involves, even if they don't know the details"
Many more hands rose in the air to join the five already there; now, sixteen hands were up; their owners with varying degrees of anxiety on their faces.
"Do any of you students," Jeyes said, indicating the group with their hands raised, "wish to explain to your friends what happens in the procedure"
Once more, there was silence, as the students looked at one another uneasily, hoping that one of their comrades would do the deed. Jeyes smiled sympathetically.
"I understand your reservations, kids. I know that none of you wants to stick your neck out right now," Jeyes said, pacing the floor. "However you should also know that you'll need to do just that in order to stand a chance in this game"
Jeyes stopped pacing, breathed, and stood facing the nearest wall: the metallic one opposite the door.
"For you lot," he said, seemingly choosing his words carefully, "the Reform Bill manifests itself in the form of a game. You would be forgiven for disbelieving that, given the extreme lengths we went to get you all here, but I'm afraid that one hundred percent attendance is vital here; it is in the very mechanics of the game for the entire class to participate.
"There is a saying: Life is a game; the last one standing wins. Well, you're going to be testing that out, boys and girls!"
No-one spoke. The implicit reference of what Jeyes had said was chilling. Few who did not understand it anyway, dared to make the connection. Then one boy, Colin Nately, put his hand up gingerly.
Jeyes fixed him under a steady gaze.
"Yes"
"Excuse me, sir," said Colin, being careful about what he was saying. "I'm not exactly sure what you want us to do, still. I, er, just wondered what was going to, erm, happen to us all, especially as, y'know, you said we're going to be living that expression. Sorry, but I'm not exactly following what you mean"
For a moment, Jeyes looked at Nately with something resembling dislike. He then looked at the nearest soldier.
"Who is that, Shepherd"
"Boy number fourteen, sir," said Shepherd promptly. "Colin Nately. One of the truants"
"Oh yes, I know the name. Well, Colin," Jeyes said, stepping forward (Nately stepped back, seemingly petrified), "I'm glad you asked me that. I meant what I said. But to spell it out for everyone: this is a game. More than that, a war-game. It is a game of death"
The silence in the room seemed to change; somehow, it seemed like even the air had frozen. Jeyes carried on regardless.
"The object of the game is to be the last person standing. You will all kill each other off. The only other alternative is to die yourself. You will battle among yourselves until there is only one of you remaining. That person is the winner. They can go home and return to their families. They will receive free psychological treatment and healthcare benefits for the rest of their life, plus private tutoring for the rest of your academic future, however long you wish that to be"
There was an unanimous buzz of horror and revulsion at these words. Jeyes didn't care. He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked a drawer in the desk. From inside he produced a videotape. He walked over to the television set, and put it into the VCR player. All eyes in the room, even the soldiers, were on him. Turning his head, Jeyes addressed the room from over his shoulder.
"Luckily for you, I have a familiar face to explain the rules to you.
He switched on the television, and signalled to one of the soldiers to turn down the lights.
"Juvenile Reform Bill: How To Fight a Battle Royale"
A woman's voice was announcing the title of the video to the room. The entire class looked bewildered, as almost everyone recognised the voice instantly. It was Divine MacKenzie, a well-known television personality, famed as a host and interviewer in numerous reality TV shows. The next shot of her in her trademark casual suit confirmed this.
"Hello, everyone in class 11D of White Hill school, London! You have been selected for this year's Battle Royale! In just three days time, one of you could be the lucky winner, and be set for life! Guaranteed! Congratulations, guys"
These words were met by silence. As ever, Divine MacKenzie was friendly and excited, but at the same time professional and businesslike, as if she was introducing the contestants at the start of a brand new series of a popular show. Her mannerisms were at chilling odds with the context.
"Now, I'm sure your teacher has already outlined the object of the game. I am here to go into more detail. Okay now listen carefully. You are all on an island. It has been empty for many years now, but there are the remnants a village, a harbour that was used to bring you all here, plus many other points of interest, that you will undoubtedly want to explore in your own time! From above, the island looks a little like this," Divine MacKenzie informed the audience, her image being replaced with that of a map.
The island seemed quite square, with a smaller islet in the top corner. Toward the bottom right corner, there appeared to be a forest; to the north, a large hill. Between these two landmarks, they noticed, there was a large box, marked: 'START'. It went assumed that that was where they were at that instant.
"Now, you will all soon receive a map with attached compass, and a marker pen. I shall explain shortly why you will need this. But first, I'm going to talk about the collars that are around your"
"DROP THAT THIS SECOND"
Jeyes yelled at a girl in the crowd, a girl with frizzy blonde locks. She squealed and dropped her mobile phone; she had been trying to contact her parents. It fell to the floor, contacted her fashionable boots (complete with stripy black and red socks), bounced off the toe of the shoe, and skimmed over the floor with a clatter. Jeyes paused the tape and stormed over to her, his temper rising. She edged back, shaking.
"And who are you?"
"Chrissie... my name is Chrissie"
"Christine Saxon," verified Shepherd, the soldier at the front. "Girl number nineteen"
"Well then, Chrissie," Jeyes asked dangerously, touching the shiny new Motorola phone with his boot. "Who were you trying to contact"
"My parents," said Chrissie, the concept of lying unthinkable.
"I see," Jeyes said, raising his head. "Your parents and guardians have all been notified of your situation. Suffice to say not all of them were happy, but they soon realised there was nothing they could do"
He looked at Chrissie Saxon calmly. He believed strongly in second chances.
"Incidentally, your phones will not work on the island," he explained further. "There was a situation a few years back when certain students were sending text messages to one another. They almost rose against us, but we soon dealt with the perpetrators"
"What do you mean, 'dealt with'?" Adam Garretty, boy number eight, asked with fear. Jeyes turned to him and smiled.
"I believe that's where we were in the video before the rude interruption," said Jeyes pleasantly, before stamping down ferociously on the phone, breaking it in two.
"Daddy can't save you now, Chrissie," said Jeyes simply. "Stand up for yourself and fight your own battles"
Chrissie mouthed wordlessly as the man pressed play and the woman continued speaking.
"These collars are designed by some of the government's most skilled engineers," Divine MacKenzie was holding a silver ring, that looked like it had about a eight- or nine-centimetre radius. They could see a bulge at the front, and what appeared to be two small pads positioned symmetrically either side of the rear. Everyone recognised them to be the same make as the ones around their necks.
"They are designed to keep track of your movements and actions. Now, every so often, your teacher will mention certain grid references. These co-ordinates will match with a square on your map - (the screen changed again to a map, but this time with an 8x8 grid overlay, with one square flashing white) - so for instance the barracks where you are currently is situated at grid reference F-6. Understand"
A couple of the boys nodded involuntarily, holding on to each of her words, hoping to find a clue they could use. Suddenly, the square on the map turned red. Simultaneously, a floodlight from outside shone red light into the room, as if to emphasise the point further.
"Now, as was mentioned a second ago, your teacher will announce certain grid references, twinned with times. At those times, those areas will become danger zones. The meaning behind that is clear: Do not stay there. Our computer locates and tracks your collars, and if we find you are lingering in a danger zone after the allocated time, then the system's computers will detect you, trigger an alarm and"
She gestured to a collar on the table nearby. It was the same as all the others, except that there was a red LED at the front, which was flashing furiously. The audience was captive, the bottoms of their stomachs churning under the strain of information they had been receiving and now the thrill of foreboding. The collar bleeped furiously. Suddenly, there was a icrack/i as the collar jolted, then lay still, an amount of smoke issuing from the two pads, the top of the table scorched slightly.
"Now, kids, imagine your necks inside that," interrupted Jeyes, pausing the video again. "It's not a big charge, but it's enough to sever the bottom of your brain stems, and slit the sides of your necks open, causing your jugular arteries to spray everywhere. Although it's a relatively fast way to die, it's certainly not pleasant, especially to the poor souls who happen to be nearby when the explosion happens and have to wash your blood from their clothes when it sprays them under high pressure."
The whole of 11D was speechless. This was the first specific description of their possible fates. Several students, boys mostly, were standing with their hands over their open mouths, pale and petrified. Even the tougher students like Sean Sampson and John Trent were gaping wide-eyed at the screen.
"Now," the woman on the screen continued, unpaused, "as the game goes on, the number of danger zones increases, and the possible area open to you gets smaller. This is to encourage you to confront one another; because, let's face it, what's the fun if everyone hides in the undergrowth all the time, huh"
She grimaced at the camera, with one of her trademark looks. It suddenly occurred to Harry Smith that she too was a mother. How could she be a supporter of a scheme that slaughters children? He had seen in a magazine just last week that she had announced her pregnancy with a second child. Looking at the screen, the woman looked like she had a slight bump, so he deduced that the tape could not have been made too long ago. He shook the thought from his mind. It was not important.
"...tied into that, there is one other thing: these soldiers have worked tirelessly over the past few months, trying to organise this for you. It is necessary to have a winner, but because we can't wait indefinitely for one, we are setting a maximum time limit on this game: three days. If there is still no winner after that cut-off point, all the remaining collars will detonate, and there will be no winners at all. Got it? Good. I shall now hand you over to your teacher, who will explain the weapons."
Jeyes clapped his hands together enthusiastically, and bounced on the balls of his feet.
"So! Does anybody have any questions before I continue"
Everybody's eyes shifted from the front of the room to each other. Nobody knew what to say; to them, the situation was hopeless, and the teacher volatile. Finally, somebody broke the ice and put her hand up: Kavinder Khanum.
"Yes, Kavinder"
"What happened to Mr Davey"
She knew it was a trivial question, given their plight, but she needed to understand what happened, and how serious they were.
"Your regular teacher is currently in hospital, but is expected to make a full recovery"
Kavinder noticed the man was dodging the question. "What happened to him?"
"During the mission this afternoon when we took you all, he also felt the effects of the gas. I assume you all realise it was gas by now? Well, his head hung over his chest when he fell unconscious. He nearly suffocated himself"
"You mean you nearly killed him"
Jeyes smiled apologetically. "Next question"
A boy put his hand up.
"You again, Nately"
Colin Nately nodded. "Why are you doing this"
Jeyes' features suddenly became stern. "The Program started off as an experiment in Japan. Other countries adapted it to deal with their problem youth. You knew that; if not, you should've kept up with current affairs"
"How do you live with yourself," a girl piped up desperately, "knowing you're sending children to early graves, you hypocrite? How can you condone the massacre of civilians and keep a clear conscience"
It was the American girl, Lindsay Vaughan again. She had seemingly recovered from her earlier humiliation and was ready for another round.
"Listen to yourself, girl," exclaimed Jeyes, irritably. "You are playing the 'child' card. Do you consider yourself a 'child'? Legally, perhaps you are a minor. But you don't go to school, you do your own thing, you have independence and your own wishes. To hell with anyone else who stands in your way! Just a few hours ago you decided to take yourself on a train journey to do some shopping! And you have the audacity to call me a hypocrite"
"Go to hell, motherfucker"
Jeyes gave her a withering look, then deciding she wasn't worth his hassle, turned away from her.
"Does anyone else have anything to ask"
There was a faint whimpering from the one side of the room. Lucy Shale had fallen earlier in the chaos and cut her knee open. It was bleeding quite badly. Her friend, Luke O'Neill, put his hand up nervously.
"Sir? Lucy's cut her knee open. Can we do something for her"
"Oh?" Jeyes said, his voice laced with some spiteful sarcasm. "Would you like me to send her home and let her see a doctor, or have my men shoot her here and now"
"No!" Luke yelled, as several of Lucy's friends pleaded silently. "That's not what I meant"
"No?" Jeyes persisted. "It would certainly level the playing field, and it would get the ball rolling"
"No! Don't do it! For God's sake, don't! I take it back, I take it all back"
"Actually," Jeyes said thoughtfully, "I don't think it sounds like a bad idea"
"Leave it!" Lucy yelled suddenly through the panic, her eyes red with tears. "Thanks, Luke, but I'm fine. It's just a bit of a cut: I'm fine, I'm fine"
Jeyes surveyed the scene, debating with himself whether or not to make an example of the girl. He decided he would, but in a different way.
"Very well; you'll live to fight, Lucy. That boy O'Neill seemed to like you a bit," he said, slightly disappointed. "Now, I want all of you kids to take a good look around you! There are forty-nine students in this room! Look at your friends, your boyfriends, your girlfriends, your neighbours! None of these terms mean anything any more. Only one of you can hope to survive the next three days. At least forty-eight of you will die. I suggest you start severing your emotional ties now. Ultimately, you have to save yourself, and if you want to reach the end, you must do it standing on the bodies of all of your classmates, even if it means killing your best friend"
Thomas Clarke was standing motionless in the middle of the room, his eyes fixed on Mr Jeyes. He was absorbing every word that was being said. Phil Robertson, too, was sitting on a seat, not blinking. Nobody was happy about the circumstances. But what could he do to fight the tide?
"...and remember this at all times: Friends come and go. Society is not fixed, there is movement and people enter and leave your lives. Some of you know that already. However many of you should reaffirm that idea. You were not going to stay in touch with everyone else in the room. Sooner or later; you would have to part. It is just that in this case we are going to give you all the opportunity to decide when you say goodbye to whom"
Jeyes rolled his head around on his shoulders, and turned to the soldier near the metallic wall.
"Meyer, bring in the weapons."