'This school has been a home to me all my life,' said Hammond. 'It represents everything I believe in and cherish – kindness, duty, learning and respect. Turning it into an armed camp cheapens everything it stands for, and I will not allow that to stand.'
Someone started to clap. It was Matron. She rose to her feet and applauded. Then the four other grown-ups followed suit, and then the Dinner Lady.
Bates was crimson with fury, staring at these insubordinate ingrates, but he was frozen by the moment, shocked into inaction by the open defiance of what he was trying to achieve.
And then one, then two, then ten, then most, then all of the boys began clapping as well. This could be it, I realised. This could be the moment when we pulled back from the brink, abandoned the army game and reclaimed a little bit of sanity and humanity; the moment we pulled the rug out from under the feet of Bates and Mac and took charge. Everything depended upon how our glorious leaders responded to this insurrection.
Bates rose to his feet and strutted towards Hammond, who stood his ground.
'Oh shit,' I whispered. 'Here we go.'
'I should shoot you here and now for insubordination,' he hissed. The applause died away as people noticed that Bates' hand was wrapped tightly around the handle of his still-holstered sidearm.
'Insubordination?' mocked Hammond. 'I'm not subordinate to you. I don't take orders from anyone, let alone a deluded history teacher who thinks he's Field Marshal Montgomery.'
I could have hugged him for that. It was all I could do not to cheer. Still Mac was unmoving, at attention, staring straight ahead. The officers, who had not clapped, also stood still, but I could see they were nervous, uncertain what to do. They looked to Mac for a lead, but he was giving them nothing, letting the scene before him play out uninterrupted. The situation, and the school's future, was balanced on a knife edge.
'These boys need a strong hand, they need to be protected.' Bates was trying not to shout, but even so his words carried clearly in the sudden silence.
'Yes they do. From you, and that psychopath there!' He pointed at Mac, who didn't move a muscle. 'Look at what you've achieved since you've been in charge, eh? Two boys hanged in Hildenborough, two more shot and wounded in a stupid act of military adventurism. Your second-in-command has murdered four people that I know of in the last two weeks. And this school, which is supposed to be a haven of safety and learning, which could be offering sanctuary and succour to all the lost children wandering around out there in the chaos, has been turned into a bloody fortress. We should be sending out expeditions to retrieve children not armaments. Can't you see that?'
Bates had drawn his gun. It was hard to tell whether he'd done it consciously or not, but he stood there face to face with Hammond, his pistol held tight, shaking with barely contained fury and madness.
I saw Green take a step forward, as if to intervene, but Mac caught his eye and flashed him a look of warning. Green, cowed, stepped back into line.
'Mr Hammond, I am afraid that you are no longer welcome at this institution. You are ordered to leave.'
Hammond laughed in Bates' face.
'You can't order me to leave. This is my home far more than it's ever been yours. I was here when your father was in nappies, young man. This is my school, not yours, and you'll have to kill me to get rid of me.'
'No, I won't,' said Bates.
Bates turned to Mac.
'Major, you and your men escort Mr Hammond from the premises immediately,' he said.
'Yes sir!' barked Mac, and nodded to his officers, who raised their rifles and walked forward.
At this point Matron stepped forward to intervene, but Mac blocked her way and hissed into her face 'Sit down, bitch, or else'. She sat down, ashen-faced.
Seeing Mac advancing towards him, Hammond straightened his back and stuck out his chest. He wasn't going to be intimidated.
'You can't hand me over to this man, Bates,' he cried. 'We both know I'll be dead within the hour. And these boys won't let it happen, will you boys?'
Oh, what a misjudgement that was. Because the boys didn't make a sound. They were too afraid of the raised guns of the officers, too cowed by the horrors that had overtaken their lives in the last year, too conditioned to fear Mac. They'd enjoyed a mad moment of rebellion but once they'd stopped applauding their own terror had crept in to fill the silence.
Norton looked over at me desperately, seeking guidance. If I gave the nod he'd speak up.
Should I have given the signal? I still wonder about that. If I had, if Norton had stepped forward and rallied the boys, maybe things would have been different. Maybe all the blood and death could have been prevented. But I was unsure. It seemed too risky. I shook my head, and Norton clenched his jaw and remained silent. In that moment of uncertainty and cowardice he and I condemned us to all that followed.
Faced by Mac's slow, menacing approach, and the silent acquiescence of the boys, Hammond began to appreciate the gravity of his situation.
'You can't do this, Bates. For God's sake man, look at yourself, look at what you're doing!' There was a desperate, pleading note in his voice now.
'Mac's orders are to expel you,' said Bates, 'and that is what he'll do, isn't it Major?'
'Yes sir!'
Mac, approaching from behind Bates, bared his teeth at Hammond, and winked. Bates stepped forward, his pistol raised to cover Hammond and deter him from running. Hammond contemptuously batted the pistol aside. Bates brought it to bear again. Hammond batted it aside again. Bates raised the pistol to hit Hammond with it, but the old man grabbed Bates' arm to counter the blow.
You've seen the movies. You know what comes next. The two men grapple for possession of the weapon, they huddle in tight, almost embracing, as they strain and clutch and struggle for leverage. Then a shot – shocking, sudden, echoing off the buildings and trees, repeating again and again and fading away as the two men stand stock still, frozen, the horrified spectators waiting to see which one of them will topple.
Hammond backed away from Bates, his face full of confusion and fear. Then he fell sideways into the snow, and twitched and shook and died.
Bates stood there, the smoking gun in his hand. He stared at Hammond's body and seemed frozen, rooted to the spot.
Rowles broke ranks and ran towards the school, crying. Without a moment's hesitation Mac drew his sidearm and fired into the air.
'One more inch, Rowles, and I'll have you up on a charge of desertion!' he yelled.
Rowles turned back, his face streaked with tears and snot, utterly terrified. His lower lip trembled.
'Back in line, boy, now!'
Rowles shuffled back, wide-eyed, and rejoined the serried ranks of boys, all of whom mirrored his fear and uncertainty.
'You are on parade. You do not leave until you are dismissed. Understand?'
The boys stood in silence.
'I said,' bellowed Mac, 'do you understand?'
A half-hearted 'yes sir'.
'I bloody well hope so.'
Mac turned to his officers. Patel and Wolf-Barry were restraining Matron, who had attempted to run to Hammond when he had been shot.
'Zayn, Pugh, take Hammond's body to the San.' They did so.
Bates was still standing there.
Mac addressed the troops.
'The Colonel is right. There's no room here for charity, no food for freeloaders, no beds for fucking whingers. We stay tight, we stay hard, we stay alive. Hammond thought otherwise and look where it fucking got him.'
'That's Mr Hammond to you, McKillick,' shouted Matron, straining against the boys who were holding her back. Mac turned and walked slowly towards her. He had still not holstered his gun. He leaned forward so there was only an inch at most between their faces.
'Now you listen to me and you listen well, bitch,' he whispered. 'I run this place now. My gaff, my rules. And if you don't like that you can piss off. But while you stay here you do exactly as I say or so help me God I will fucking
