From "ACID" by Emma Pass
Posted: Thu Jun 11, 2026 2:35 pm
This is an excerpt from a dystopian novel published a few years ago. Features a scene where the heroine mugs a female officer for her uniform. In an unusual detail, the guard has laryngitis, so the woman binds her but doesn't bother gagging her, since she can't raise her voice to scream.
CHAPTER 53
Another week passes, and as no one else new has arrived, I assume that everyone’s here. So coming downstairs to make coffee the day before the mission’s due to leave, I’m startled to see Steve, the guy who took me through the details of my Mia Richardson identity at the lab. He’s sitting at the table and spreading marmalade on a thick slab of bread – his second, by the look of the crumbs in his beard.
‘Ah, Jenna,’ he says. ‘I suppose we can call you that again now? How are things?’
‘Fine,’ I mumble, walking past him to make coffee. Him? I think as I set up the machine. No one will ever believe he’s an ACID agent. He can’t be going.
But apparently he is, because a few moments later Mel, Felix, Rebekah, Drew, Fiona, Nik and Rav walk in, and Drew greets Steve with a, ‘Hey, good to see you. You all set for tomorrow?’
Steve nods. ‘So, are we all here?’ he asks.
‘We’re still waiting for Holly,’ Mel says, moving over to the coffee machine. ‘She should arrive this afternoon – she’d have been here sooner, but she’s not been well. Oh, hello, Jenna. Are you all right?’
I nod without looking at her, fiddling with the settings on the machine.
That’s eight of them, I think as the machine begins to hiss and gurgle. Eight of them. They could arrest the general and rescue Max straight away, and instead, all they’re going to do is hang around and pretend to be ACID and film stuff. For TWO MONTHS.
I pour my coffee into a mug and head for the kitchen door, intending to take it back up to my room. Then, as I step out into the hall, I hear Steve say, ‘Do we have the uniforms yet?’
‘Yes, they’re in the wardrobe in mine and Jon’s room,’ Mel answers him. ‘Helmets and boots too.’
‘Morning,’ Jon says as I pass him at the bottom of the stairs. I mumble something back and hurry past.
Mel and Jon’s room is right next to mine. Leaving my coffee mug on top of the drawers beside my bed, I go back out onto the landing. Their door’s standing slightly ajar. I push it open with my fingertips, praying the hinges won’t squeal.
They don’t.
The wardrobe is built in, facing the end of the bed. I tiptoe across, aware that everyone is more or less right underneath where I’m walking. Inside the wardrobe, on the right, are Mel and Jon’s clothes. On the other side are the uniforms. They all have agent numbers and surnames on the arms. There’s Felix’s. That one’s got to be Steve’s.
And this one . . .
The name on the arm is H Vaughan. I finger the heavy black fabric of the sleeve, rubbing it between my fingers. It’s almost exactly my size. I look at the helmets lined up on the shelf above the uniforms, then at the heavy buckled boots stacked neatly in the bottom of the wardrobe. There’s a pair there that look my size too.
I narrow my eyes, feeling the beginnings of a plan forming inside my head. Softly shutting the wardrobe door, I tiptoe back out of the room and sit on my bed, where I hold the coffee mug in both hands and look out of the window at the rotoport, mulling things over.
Later that afternoon, Holly arrives and, quite unexpectedly, everything falls into place.
Mel introduces us when I go downstairs in search of more coffee. ‘Jenna, this Holly,’ she says as I walk into the kitchen.
‘Hi,’ Holly whispers, smiling and holding out a hand. ‘Nice to meet you, Jenna. Sorry about my voice. I’ve had laryngitis and bronchitis.’
I shake her hand. She’s almost exactly the same height as me, wearing running shoes, her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. ‘Holly works for Anna at ACID,’ Mel says. ‘We were thrilled when she decided to come over to FREE.’
I make my coffee as quickly as I can and take it back up to my room, where I look in the mirror that Mel hung on the back of my door for me a few days after I woke up here. I narrow my eyes at my reflection, watching her narrow her eyes back as the plan that began to take shape inside my head this morning comes into focus.
I’ll pose as Holly and go along with the others to Innis Ifrinn. Then I can find Max, and work out a way to get him out of there. And . . .
The general will be there. If FREE aren’t going to do anything about him, maybe I can.
That night, at dinner, I watch Holly carefully, looking for any characteristic movements she makes – the way she laces her fingers and stretches them whenever she’s considering anything, for example, or the way she always crosses her left leg over her right when she’s sitting, never the other way around.
Mel raises her glass. ‘Here’s to the Innis Ifrinn mission,’ she says.
‘To the Innis Ifrinn mission!’ everyone else says, apart from Holly, who can only whisper it.
I raise my glass too, a smile spreading across my face.
CHAPTER 54
That night, the others hold a final mission briefing in the living room for Holly’s benefit. Mel and Jon sit in too, so I creep downstairs and press my ear to the door to listen. It reminds me of being at the library, eavesdropping on Jacob and his group planning to bomb the ACID rally. Only this time, I’m listening to plans for something I want to be involved in.
‘We need to be at the rotoport by oh-four-thirty,’ Felix is saying to Holly. ‘We’re travelling on a supply roto.’
There’s a pause, so Holly must be whispering something.
‘There are just under two hundred and fifty inmates,’ Felix says. Another pause. ‘I know, it seems a lot when the staff is so small. But the inmates are under such heavy lockdown, there’s no need for the sort of security the jails on the mainland have. Plus – well, you know where the prison’s located. No one’s ever managed to escape.’
I remember Anna’s letter. Twenty people have died there already since the beginning of the year . . . A little shudder goes down my spine. Just how bad is it at Innis Ifrinn?
‘Our duties will consist of patrolling the jail, which will give us ample opportunity to monitor and record conditions there,’ Felix goes on. ‘We’re not there to interfere with the running of the jail or intervene in the treatment of the inmates in any way, even though it may be difficult at times not to. And no one is to talk about anything to do with FREE, or the mission. As far as the prisoners and the maintenance staff are concerned, we’re ACID, and it’s essential we maintain that charade at all times. Now, regarding the footage we hope to get . . .’
I’ve heard enough. I go back upstairs, intending to doze for a few hours, then sit up and wait so I don’t miss anything. But I fall asleep more deeply than I mean to, and jerk awake some unknown time later to the sound of footsteps going past my room.
I sit up. Shit. What time is it? The room’s in darkness, so it must still be pretty early. More footsteps go past my door. I swing my legs out of bed and pad across to it, easing it open a few millimetres so I can peer out.
Rebekah’s out there with Felix and Drew. They’re wearing their uniforms, but no helmets, and I can hear someone in the bathroom, running the taps. ‘I’ll get some coffee on,’ Rebekah says softly, heading for the stairs.
So they haven’t had breakfast yet. Thank God for that.
I watch through the gap as the bathroom door opens and Holly emerges, still wearing pyjamas, her hair damp. She disappears into her room. Come on, I think.
When she comes back out onto the landing, she’s in a T-shirt and jogging bottoms and slippers, her hair scraped back. I listen to her pad down the stairs, wait another few seconds, then step out onto the landing, closing the door behind me.
She’s left her bedroom light on. The bed’s been hastily made and her jumpsuit and gloves and helmet are lying across it, her boots and a small pack on the floor nearby. There’s a dressing gown with a long belt hung on the back of the door. I pull the belt out, then switch off the light and go over to the wardrobe. It’s built in like the one in Mel’s room, and although it isn’t as big, there’s barely anything in it, so I fit inside quite comfortably. I pull the door shut with my fingertips.
About thirty minutes later, I hear everyone coming back upstairs, and the bedroom door opening. Before Holly can switch on the light, I leap out of the wardrobe, tackling her and pinning her against the bed. She tries to cry out, but all she can do is make a thin wheezing sound. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper as I bind her wrists and ankles with the dressing-gown cord. ‘I have to do this.’ She struggles and bucks, but even though she’s strong, she’s not as strong as me. When I’ve finished tying her up, I pull on the ACID uniform over my own clothes. As I step into the boots and jam my hands into the gloves, Holly makes tiny noises that I think are supposed to be screams.
‘Sorry,’ I whisper again as I place the helmet over my head and snap the visor closed. I shoulder her pack and clump across to the door, opening it just wide enough to get out and pulling it shut behind me.
The others are all at the top of the stairs, waiting. They’re wearing packs too.
‘Got your helmet on already, Hol?’ Rav jokes. ‘Mind you, might be a good thing – at least we won’t catch your lurgy!’
I shake my head at him in what I hope is a Holly-ish expression of disgust, and he laughs.
‘Please can we keep it down a bit?’ Felix says behind him. ‘Mel, Jon and Jenna are asleep.’
Rav makes a face in my direction. I shrug, although my heart’s beating fast.
‘Anyway, you all need your helmets on once we get outside,’ Felix says as he heads for the stairs. ‘We need to make sure we look the part right from the start in case anyone stops us on the road. And don’t forget to keep them on in the roto too. I don’t want the crew or any other agents travelling with us to see our faces either.’
We go downstairs, where Felix hands out equipment belts with pulse guns, handcuffs and batons on them. Everyone else puts their helmets on, and we go outside. An electro van is parked outside the house. We climb in the back, and Felix gets into the driver’s seat. I remember Holly’s supposed to be getting over laryngitis and bronchitis, and cough a couple of times so that no one gets suspicious.
When the van gets to the rotoport, we get out, one after the other, and stand on the tarmac, looking around us.
An ACID agent comes over. ‘You the Innis Ifrinn lot?’ he says, his voice tinny-sounding through his komm.
As Felix nods, the agent spots the commander’s triangle on his arm and salutes. ‘Sorry, Commander, didn’t see you there,’ he says. He points a gloved finger. ‘You want launch pad seven.’
We walk across to the launch pad in a huddle. The rotoport is bigger than I thought it was, and the rotos themselves are huge, towering above us. The one on launch pad seven is at half power, its bottom blades turning, its top blades still. A gigantic hatch in its belly lies open, revealing a cavernous space packed from floor to ceiling with crates and containers.
‘What is all that stuff?’ Fiona says.
‘Supplies for the prison,’ Felix says, motioning for her to keep her voice down as another ACID agent appears. ‘This way, please, Commander,’ she says, saluting Felix.
We follow the agent round to the side of the roto where there’s another, smaller hatch at the top of a metal ladder. Through the hatch is a cramped cabin, lit by strip lights, with padded seats around its edge and straps hanging down from the ceiling. A thin plexiglass screen separates us from the cockpit. As we sit down, stowing our bags under the seats, the pilot turns to give us a thumbs-up through the screen. The door to our cabin is slammed shut, and there’s a loud hydraulic drone from somewhere beneath us as the hatch in the roto’s belly is raised, and a boom that shudders right through us as it closes. The top blades begin to power up with a deep whapwhapwhap that, even inside the soundproofed cabin and with our helmets on, is almost deafening. It climbs to a steady scream, drowning out the whine of the blades underneath.
With a jolt, the roto rises into the air, and inside my helmet, I grin so hard my face starts to ache.
I’ve made it.
CHAPTER 53
Another week passes, and as no one else new has arrived, I assume that everyone’s here. So coming downstairs to make coffee the day before the mission’s due to leave, I’m startled to see Steve, the guy who took me through the details of my Mia Richardson identity at the lab. He’s sitting at the table and spreading marmalade on a thick slab of bread – his second, by the look of the crumbs in his beard.
‘Ah, Jenna,’ he says. ‘I suppose we can call you that again now? How are things?’
‘Fine,’ I mumble, walking past him to make coffee. Him? I think as I set up the machine. No one will ever believe he’s an ACID agent. He can’t be going.
But apparently he is, because a few moments later Mel, Felix, Rebekah, Drew, Fiona, Nik and Rav walk in, and Drew greets Steve with a, ‘Hey, good to see you. You all set for tomorrow?’
Steve nods. ‘So, are we all here?’ he asks.
‘We’re still waiting for Holly,’ Mel says, moving over to the coffee machine. ‘She should arrive this afternoon – she’d have been here sooner, but she’s not been well. Oh, hello, Jenna. Are you all right?’
I nod without looking at her, fiddling with the settings on the machine.
That’s eight of them, I think as the machine begins to hiss and gurgle. Eight of them. They could arrest the general and rescue Max straight away, and instead, all they’re going to do is hang around and pretend to be ACID and film stuff. For TWO MONTHS.
I pour my coffee into a mug and head for the kitchen door, intending to take it back up to my room. Then, as I step out into the hall, I hear Steve say, ‘Do we have the uniforms yet?’
‘Yes, they’re in the wardrobe in mine and Jon’s room,’ Mel answers him. ‘Helmets and boots too.’
‘Morning,’ Jon says as I pass him at the bottom of the stairs. I mumble something back and hurry past.
Mel and Jon’s room is right next to mine. Leaving my coffee mug on top of the drawers beside my bed, I go back out onto the landing. Their door’s standing slightly ajar. I push it open with my fingertips, praying the hinges won’t squeal.
They don’t.
The wardrobe is built in, facing the end of the bed. I tiptoe across, aware that everyone is more or less right underneath where I’m walking. Inside the wardrobe, on the right, are Mel and Jon’s clothes. On the other side are the uniforms. They all have agent numbers and surnames on the arms. There’s Felix’s. That one’s got to be Steve’s.
And this one . . .
The name on the arm is H Vaughan. I finger the heavy black fabric of the sleeve, rubbing it between my fingers. It’s almost exactly my size. I look at the helmets lined up on the shelf above the uniforms, then at the heavy buckled boots stacked neatly in the bottom of the wardrobe. There’s a pair there that look my size too.
I narrow my eyes, feeling the beginnings of a plan forming inside my head. Softly shutting the wardrobe door, I tiptoe back out of the room and sit on my bed, where I hold the coffee mug in both hands and look out of the window at the rotoport, mulling things over.
Later that afternoon, Holly arrives and, quite unexpectedly, everything falls into place.
Mel introduces us when I go downstairs in search of more coffee. ‘Jenna, this Holly,’ she says as I walk into the kitchen.
‘Hi,’ Holly whispers, smiling and holding out a hand. ‘Nice to meet you, Jenna. Sorry about my voice. I’ve had laryngitis and bronchitis.’
I shake her hand. She’s almost exactly the same height as me, wearing running shoes, her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. ‘Holly works for Anna at ACID,’ Mel says. ‘We were thrilled when she decided to come over to FREE.’
I make my coffee as quickly as I can and take it back up to my room, where I look in the mirror that Mel hung on the back of my door for me a few days after I woke up here. I narrow my eyes at my reflection, watching her narrow her eyes back as the plan that began to take shape inside my head this morning comes into focus.
I’ll pose as Holly and go along with the others to Innis Ifrinn. Then I can find Max, and work out a way to get him out of there. And . . .
The general will be there. If FREE aren’t going to do anything about him, maybe I can.
That night, at dinner, I watch Holly carefully, looking for any characteristic movements she makes – the way she laces her fingers and stretches them whenever she’s considering anything, for example, or the way she always crosses her left leg over her right when she’s sitting, never the other way around.
Mel raises her glass. ‘Here’s to the Innis Ifrinn mission,’ she says.
‘To the Innis Ifrinn mission!’ everyone else says, apart from Holly, who can only whisper it.
I raise my glass too, a smile spreading across my face.
CHAPTER 54
That night, the others hold a final mission briefing in the living room for Holly’s benefit. Mel and Jon sit in too, so I creep downstairs and press my ear to the door to listen. It reminds me of being at the library, eavesdropping on Jacob and his group planning to bomb the ACID rally. Only this time, I’m listening to plans for something I want to be involved in.
‘We need to be at the rotoport by oh-four-thirty,’ Felix is saying to Holly. ‘We’re travelling on a supply roto.’
There’s a pause, so Holly must be whispering something.
‘There are just under two hundred and fifty inmates,’ Felix says. Another pause. ‘I know, it seems a lot when the staff is so small. But the inmates are under such heavy lockdown, there’s no need for the sort of security the jails on the mainland have. Plus – well, you know where the prison’s located. No one’s ever managed to escape.’
I remember Anna’s letter. Twenty people have died there already since the beginning of the year . . . A little shudder goes down my spine. Just how bad is it at Innis Ifrinn?
‘Our duties will consist of patrolling the jail, which will give us ample opportunity to monitor and record conditions there,’ Felix goes on. ‘We’re not there to interfere with the running of the jail or intervene in the treatment of the inmates in any way, even though it may be difficult at times not to. And no one is to talk about anything to do with FREE, or the mission. As far as the prisoners and the maintenance staff are concerned, we’re ACID, and it’s essential we maintain that charade at all times. Now, regarding the footage we hope to get . . .’
I’ve heard enough. I go back upstairs, intending to doze for a few hours, then sit up and wait so I don’t miss anything. But I fall asleep more deeply than I mean to, and jerk awake some unknown time later to the sound of footsteps going past my room.
I sit up. Shit. What time is it? The room’s in darkness, so it must still be pretty early. More footsteps go past my door. I swing my legs out of bed and pad across to it, easing it open a few millimetres so I can peer out.
Rebekah’s out there with Felix and Drew. They’re wearing their uniforms, but no helmets, and I can hear someone in the bathroom, running the taps. ‘I’ll get some coffee on,’ Rebekah says softly, heading for the stairs.
So they haven’t had breakfast yet. Thank God for that.
I watch through the gap as the bathroom door opens and Holly emerges, still wearing pyjamas, her hair damp. She disappears into her room. Come on, I think.
When she comes back out onto the landing, she’s in a T-shirt and jogging bottoms and slippers, her hair scraped back. I listen to her pad down the stairs, wait another few seconds, then step out onto the landing, closing the door behind me.
She’s left her bedroom light on. The bed’s been hastily made and her jumpsuit and gloves and helmet are lying across it, her boots and a small pack on the floor nearby. There’s a dressing gown with a long belt hung on the back of the door. I pull the belt out, then switch off the light and go over to the wardrobe. It’s built in like the one in Mel’s room, and although it isn’t as big, there’s barely anything in it, so I fit inside quite comfortably. I pull the door shut with my fingertips.
About thirty minutes later, I hear everyone coming back upstairs, and the bedroom door opening. Before Holly can switch on the light, I leap out of the wardrobe, tackling her and pinning her against the bed. She tries to cry out, but all she can do is make a thin wheezing sound. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper as I bind her wrists and ankles with the dressing-gown cord. ‘I have to do this.’ She struggles and bucks, but even though she’s strong, she’s not as strong as me. When I’ve finished tying her up, I pull on the ACID uniform over my own clothes. As I step into the boots and jam my hands into the gloves, Holly makes tiny noises that I think are supposed to be screams.
‘Sorry,’ I whisper again as I place the helmet over my head and snap the visor closed. I shoulder her pack and clump across to the door, opening it just wide enough to get out and pulling it shut behind me.
The others are all at the top of the stairs, waiting. They’re wearing packs too.
‘Got your helmet on already, Hol?’ Rav jokes. ‘Mind you, might be a good thing – at least we won’t catch your lurgy!’
I shake my head at him in what I hope is a Holly-ish expression of disgust, and he laughs.
‘Please can we keep it down a bit?’ Felix says behind him. ‘Mel, Jon and Jenna are asleep.’
Rav makes a face in my direction. I shrug, although my heart’s beating fast.
‘Anyway, you all need your helmets on once we get outside,’ Felix says as he heads for the stairs. ‘We need to make sure we look the part right from the start in case anyone stops us on the road. And don’t forget to keep them on in the roto too. I don’t want the crew or any other agents travelling with us to see our faces either.’
We go downstairs, where Felix hands out equipment belts with pulse guns, handcuffs and batons on them. Everyone else puts their helmets on, and we go outside. An electro van is parked outside the house. We climb in the back, and Felix gets into the driver’s seat. I remember Holly’s supposed to be getting over laryngitis and bronchitis, and cough a couple of times so that no one gets suspicious.
When the van gets to the rotoport, we get out, one after the other, and stand on the tarmac, looking around us.
An ACID agent comes over. ‘You the Innis Ifrinn lot?’ he says, his voice tinny-sounding through his komm.
As Felix nods, the agent spots the commander’s triangle on his arm and salutes. ‘Sorry, Commander, didn’t see you there,’ he says. He points a gloved finger. ‘You want launch pad seven.’
We walk across to the launch pad in a huddle. The rotoport is bigger than I thought it was, and the rotos themselves are huge, towering above us. The one on launch pad seven is at half power, its bottom blades turning, its top blades still. A gigantic hatch in its belly lies open, revealing a cavernous space packed from floor to ceiling with crates and containers.
‘What is all that stuff?’ Fiona says.
‘Supplies for the prison,’ Felix says, motioning for her to keep her voice down as another ACID agent appears. ‘This way, please, Commander,’ she says, saluting Felix.
We follow the agent round to the side of the roto where there’s another, smaller hatch at the top of a metal ladder. Through the hatch is a cramped cabin, lit by strip lights, with padded seats around its edge and straps hanging down from the ceiling. A thin plexiglass screen separates us from the cockpit. As we sit down, stowing our bags under the seats, the pilot turns to give us a thumbs-up through the screen. The door to our cabin is slammed shut, and there’s a loud hydraulic drone from somewhere beneath us as the hatch in the roto’s belly is raised, and a boom that shudders right through us as it closes. The top blades begin to power up with a deep whapwhapwhap that, even inside the soundproofed cabin and with our helmets on, is almost deafening. It climbs to a steady scream, drowning out the whine of the blades underneath.
With a jolt, the roto rises into the air, and inside my helmet, I grin so hard my face starts to ache.
I’ve made it.