The Dictator

Chapter Ten

Alina stared at Miles. He didn't even look worried. In fact he was grinning. He snatched the carrier bag up, and forcefully pulled Alina back into the storeroom. In the darkness, she heared the click of the door's lock. Great. Now they were stuck.

The footsteps passed by outside. The Alina held her breath until the last echos faded out. Then she turned to Miles and glared through the darkness.
"Well I hope you're happy." she hissed at him. "Now we are stuck in here. Miles smiled an infuriating smile, but luckily Alina couldn't seem him through the black shadows. He leapt down from the shelf he had been sitting on, then bent over something on the floor. Alina squinted at him, but she couldn't see what he was doing. There was a loud clanking sound, then a dim square of light appeared. Alina gasped. A trapdoor? In a school storeroom?

"Follow me." Miles told her, and leapt down into the hole, landing in the dim hallway like a cat. Alina jumped down beside him, landing awkwardly on her ankle.

Miles offered her no help and she was left to pull herself to her feet, grimacing. Miles turned his back to her and shut the trapdoor behind them. Then he set off down the passage. Alina followed more slowly looking at the grey walls that lined the place. They were made of cold dark stone. Greenish water dripped from bricks. Alina shivered. "What is this place?" she asked her voice echoing from the walls, like a thousand dead replies. Miles turned to her and, in the tone of a monotonous teacher, explained.

"As you know, this school dates back to the last great war. As you also know, the buildings in this area were often very heavily bombed. Instead of an air raid shelter, the headmaster built a long series of passages that spanned the entire school. When the sirens began to wail, the teachers would herd their children down into the passages and wait till was over."

Alina suddenly wondered how safe they were and asked him. "They are absolutly unsafe." he said "tunnels fall in all the time. I'm willing to take the risk."
Alina opened her mouth to protest, but the words died in her mouth as Miles lead her through a rotten wooden door into another stone room. In the centre was an old and beaten wooden bench. The damp scent of rot in the air was drowned out by an overwhelming smell of strong chemicals. Acids bubbled in glass vitals, bunsen burners flamed dangerously and experiments hissed and spat. Miles looked around proudly, with the air of someone who has just been told they are the most awesome person in the universe.

"Welcome." he said. "To my lab."