Alarms blared from every surface, lighting the gleaming wooden walls in intermittent blue flashes. A cool female voice repeated the same emotionless mantra from minute speakers concealed behind the panels: find your guardian.

Most of the fifty-odd teenagers tumbled down the corridor, moving as briskly as possible while still maintaining an outward projection of calm. Some – mostly the older ones – lingered. They tapped the wooden panels in Training Room 5, watching the digital screens hum into visibility, or else inched indecisively towards the door on the other side of the room. One of them, a broad-shouldered lad sporting a crooked nose which had previously been broken in several places, was about to make a dash for it when another boy grabbed him by the wrist.

“Not today.” The leaner lad advised, his eyes focused unwaveringly on the broader boy’s face. They were lighter mocha, a stark contrast to his black skin, with flecks of green around the pupil.

The broader-shouldered teen seemed to come to his senses. Both boys turned in unison and fled towards the corridor behind their peers, feet pounding and hearts pumping. The alarm made the floor vibrate beneath them and the corridor seemed narrower with all lights apart from the vibrant blue warning system dimmed. They skidded around the corner, subconsciously picking up the pace. Find your guardian, the disembodied woman reminded them insistently. The broader-shouldered lad glanced over his shoulder as they ran, lips tight. His companion noticed.

“Nothing we can do,” he reassured his friend in as few words as possible, reserving his breath. “Not adults yet.”

The other boy’s lips tightened further, but he stopped glancing back. A split in the corridor forced them both to slide to a sharp halt, staring briefly at one another. There was no time for lengthy goodbyes.

“I’m evac one,” the broader-shouldered boy started in a voice which wavered in pitch. It would be months yet before it broke fully. “Are you – ”

“Evac two.” His friend answered, face set and devoid of feeling. These were feelings which had been bottled away long ago, when he’d first discovered he’d been assigned to the Ayoan Evacuation Plan Two.

Find your guardian, the female voice urged them. The broader boy held out his arm, which his friend immediately grasped by the elbow.

“Good luck, Akande,” the former said feelingly, before turning to bolt down the corridor to the left. The words Evacuation Plan One were printed in clean gold letters on the wall.

Akande turned away from his friend’s retreating back to the corridor on the right, where his own evacuation plan was signposted. Without ever looking back to Training Room 5, where he had clocked more hours than anywhere else in his life so far, or to his friend, he took a breath and followed the sign. The corridor sloped down briefly and then up more sharply before breaking out into the open air. Akande powered through the curtain of amber light, lengthening his strides subconsciously. His rhythmic breath pulled in the honey-sweet, warm evening air. It was winter in Ayoa. The perfect temperature for running.

In spite of the blaring sirens, the flashing blue lights, the knowledge of what being assigned to evac two meant – in spite of all of that – running across the plains felt like a tight hug from a loving friend. If he could have spared a second, Akande would have torn off his shoes in order to better feel the prickly grey-yellow grass tickling the underside of his feet. He couldn’t afford to turn his head from side to side and didn’t need to in any case, but absorbed the sights from the corner of his eye with gratitude and just a hint of wistful regret. Umbrella thorn trees and wild date palms stood silhouetted against a sky which was an explosion of fire. Angry red tiger-stripes clawed the base of the vibrant yellow sun hovering an inch above the darkening horizon. Beyond, a gradient of amber climbed unbroken to the roof of the cloudless sky. It was a sight Akande beheld nightly, and one he never tired of.

Dust curled around him as his feet pounded the ground, visible in glittering speckles through the golden light. Some of it settled in his nose and he closed his eyes briefly to sneeze, his steps faltering slightly. When he reopened them, relief swept over him as he beheld a dark figure waving frantically next to the silhouette of a baobab tree. Akande adjusted his direction slightly but barely slowed, even at the last minute. He belted straight into his guardian’s waiting arms.

“We’re the last,” Sijuade muttered in his whisper-quiet voice, explaining the unnatural quiet. He paused, tilting his head as though listening, before glancing up at the darkening sky. Akande followed his gaze. Gleaming white-blue lights – moving stars – were making their way across the heavens. The run had been relatively short, but Akande still felt as though his breath had been sucked out of him and his knees were weak. Sijuade’s mouth was set in a grim line. “Let’s go,” he advised with a note of urgency.

They wasted no further time on exchanges. Sijuade pressed a hand confidently against the trunk of the baobab tree. The outline glowed deep purple beneath his fingers and a gentle humming broke the hush on the plains. A door in the thick trunk slid open, unveiling an egg-shaped pod with an unnaturally white interior. Two padded benches on opposing sides of the pod were the only furniture, and even with those it felt claustrophobic. Sijuade stepped inside first, followed by Akande. The latter went to sit opposite his guardian but Sijuade pulled him close. There wasn’t really space for both of them on the bench, so Akande wrapped his arms around his guardian’s thick torso and held on as tightly as he could. The door whirred shut behind them and the pod hummed to life.

“Welcome, Sijuade and Akande.” The cool female voice sounded. Some blue lights blinked above them. “Thank you for accepting Evacuation Plan Two. Prepare for immediate evacuation.”

“Where are we going?” Akande breathed, hardly daring to ask. Sijuade repeated the question in a louder, more confident tone. There was a brief pause while the machine processed it.

“Destination Shaman.” The cool female voice answered. “Prepare for immediate evacuation.”