Page 81 of Crazy House (Crazy House 1)

“What are you talking about?” the Provost said. This was clearly not going the way he’d thought—I could practically hear the wheels in his head spinning as he tried to turn this to his advantage.

“There are hundreds of kids who are going hungry, who are being beaten, who are facing death every day!” I said, raising my voice. “And we, as a cell, can help them!”

The crowd looked confused. Each cell takes care of its own—that’s how it’s always been.

“If our kids were there, and folks from another cell could help them, would you want them to?” Becca asked.

More murmuring.

“We, the people of this cell, could help those kids,” Becca went on. “We might be able to return them to their own cells.”

“They can’t come here!” the Provost said. “It would throw everything out of balance!”

“These kids’ lives are more important than balance!” I said strongly, and the Provost paled as people started to agree with me, nodding their heads.

“You know the laws!” the Provost tried again. “We’re not leaving the cell unauthorized!”

“These kids’ lives are more important than laws!” Becca said.

“More important than authorization!” I added.

People in the crowd were tal

king to each other, nodding and convincing each other.

“Who’s with us?” Becca shouted, raising one hand in the air. “Who will take the risk of going to save these children’s lives?”

No one said anything.

“It won’t be easy,” I said. “It’s a scary thought for all of us. There’s a lot to like about staying home, safe and sound.” Nods, looks of relief. “Except we aren’t safe!” I cried. “Our own kids have been taken with no warning! Who knows who will be next? Will it be one of your sons or daughters? Will someone you love end up in that nightmare? We’re not safe in this cell! We won’t be safe until we break up that prison!”

This was it—now or never. I waited, muscles as taut as a pulley rope. And then one person raised a hand, tentatively.

Then another person raised her hand.

And another.

And another.

“Let’s go find this prison!” a woman yelled.

“Let’s go find those kids!” a man agreed.

I looked at Becca, saw the disbelief in her eyes.

“Heroes,” I whispered.

104

THERE WAS A CONVOY. BECCA and I had gotten everyone riled up. A line of cars, trucks, and even a few tractors swarmed toward the boundary gates. I couldn’t believe it. Everything was changing. We were changing it.

Despite the Provost lecturing about the dangers of leaving the cell, only a few people turned back. It felt like everyone had been asleep, and had just woken up. It was amazing.

Becca and I jumped in the back of a pickup truck. I was feeling a sickening mixture of hope and dread, excitement and fear. I’d never wanted to go back to that prison. I’d never wanted to get anywhere near the place. But I was ready to take it by storm. Just thinking of the kids inside—setting them free…

Becca nudged my knee with hers. “Can’t believe we’re going back—voluntarily.”

I nodded. “Yeah. But we have all these people with us—Strepp can’t take us with all of them here. We have to try.”