Everything was very blurred. My eyes seemed to have dust in them. I didn’t know why. In fact, I wasn’t even sure where I was. I rubbed my eyes hard. All at once I saw a flash of faces peering down at me. And dimly I heard a


woman say, ‘Ah, so you’re awake at last.’ It was a cold, unfriendly voice. ‘We’ve been waiting for you.’ And with a stab of horror I suddenly remembered that …


Oscar Humphreys, age 10 Anna Heylen, age 12


… I’d fallen. Not only fallen on the running track, and not only on a running track but in front of the whole school. Miss Fordham leaned over me and watched with sheer disapproval and annoyance as I spluttered and spat out the dust from my mouth. “Up, boy! Stop blocking the race track!” hissed her cold


voice. I knew teachers never had hearts but this was just unacceptable, I had only just recovered consciousness! But instead of arguing, I thought, this time it would be easier to do as I was told because I had already gathered that I was already unpopular at the moment by the booing and the shouting of my team. I couldn’t make out what they were saying but I’m sure it wasn’t particularly nice. Hauling myself up I stumbled back to my seat on the


bench trying to get what dust I could from the track, out of my eyes. All the greeting I received was a shove here and a push there. I kept my head low and tried to act inconspicuous so I would not draw attention to myself. “It’s not all that bad. I’ve done it before. People are


only jealous of how good you are, so you go out there and show them what you…”, someone whispered and I felt a heavy hand push me on the back and onto the track before I could turn round and see who it was. “David and George house tied,” screeched over the


megaphone as it crackled, “after a random hat draw a runner from each team has been chosen to race for the title; Johnny French and Harry Shambles!” “No,” I said to myself, “I’ve heard wrong!” But I knew


it had said my name. My stomach dropped. A lump arose in my throat that I swallowed immediately and shook my head vigorously. Another shove on the back pushed me forward to the starting line. Everything blurred like it did when I regained


consciousness until the start gun sounded and I ran! I ran like the person had told me too, to prove to them that I could do it and oh, how I ran! My lungs screamed “stop”, but my mind screamed even louder to “go”. I think that this was one of those moments they call a ‘mind over body experience.’ My throat stung and my muscles cried, “Oxygen!” But I saw that white, gleaming line in front of me and my opponent behind, so I sprinted and after the stretch of 50 metres (that felt like a mile) my foot crossed it before Johnny’s and I’d won! I fell to the floor not because I’d tripped, but because I


was exhausted and quite rightly so. Then I heard the voice again, “Good one, Harry!” I saw the face of Miss Fordham peer over me (and actually smile) but before I could thank her I was lifted aloft on arms and carried away … like a hero!


Pete says, “This begins superbly (the narrator has fallen on the running track) and never loses pace: very clever and enjoyable.”


Virus … two days earlier I had travelled to a secluded and suspicious biochemical factory after receiving an encrypted email from my spy boss. I had set off immediately for the exotic location of a volcanic island in Hawaii. I was there under cover as a surfer in search of the ultimate spring- surge. I had abseiled skilfully down from the helicopter to land in the cold but refreshing Hawaiian sea. I swam towards the shore, with my surfboard and waterproof suitcase containing all my spy and survival equipment. Once on the beach I quickly retreated to the nearby undergrowth. After wandering for about thirty minutes I came to a


suitable clearing to pitch my camp for the night, as I planned to check out the biochemical plant under cover of darkness. As night fell, I prepared my equipment for this dangerous mission: night-vision binoculars, laser and anti- thermal cloak to avoid detection by the heat-sensors surrounding the entire complex. I set off to hike to the edge of the island’s volcano where


the secret plant was located. Once inside the perimeter, I donned the anti-thermal cloak. After passing the first two security gates easily, I found myself in a long corridor with many doors leading into what seemed like a labyrinth. My brief was to obtain a sample of a new virus that had


been developed there and was suspected of having been put into the powdered pesticides that the company manufactured. As I cracked the lock of the ‘prototype lab’ door with my


laser, I must have been too hasty and did not disable the hidden security camera. As I was deciding which vials to take, about a dozen security guards came charging round the corner, bound my hands and stuffed me in a bag. Now I realised that the dust in my eyes was not just dust


from the sack, but was gritty powder from the lab. The blurring was not just my eyesight but the effect of being imprisoned inside a transparent Perspex box. I had been quarantined! They thought that I was contaminated with the virus! Would they suspect that I had been inoculated against it and it posed no danger to me? I felt inside my pocket and realised that I had managed to grab one of the vials from the lab. A plan quickly formed in my head. Before I could act, a distant tremor suddenly shook the


entire building, followed by a louder cracking sound. The walls around began to shake and the brittle Perspex container started to fracture under the stress of the quake. I sprang into action. As I thrashed around in the box, trying to break out, I waved the lethal vial at my captors. But there was no need for threats from me - the signs of a coming volcanic eruption were enough to have sent them scurrying away for their lives. The box disintegrated as a further stronger tremor took hold. I took my chance and ran!


Pete says, “A great yarn involving the investigation of a biochemical factory: super ending.”


19


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