Death Run (7 page)

The sound of breaking glass was loud even up in the maths room. Jade leaped to her feet.

“What was that?” Mr Argent said.

“Someone dropped something,” Mike suggested.

“People doing drama, in the hall,” Rupam said. “They were mucking about with toy guns just now. I heard them.”

“That was thunder,” said Mike.

“I'll go and see,” Jade decided.

“I really don't think that's necessary.”

Ignoring Mr Argent, Jade hurried from the room and ran down the maths corridor. There were several other rooms along the way, and a narrow flight of stairs down to the school's main reception. But the
corridor ended in a smaller room that was used for storage or working with small groups of children.

Jade made her way carefully past precarious piles of textbooks to the door at the back of the room. She opened it carefully, some instinct warning her to be as quiet as possible. The door opened on to the gallery at the back of the school hall. Jade could hear noises from below – a man speaking, Miss Whitfield's nervous replies, someone crying… What was going on?

As she approached the front of the gallery, Jade could gradually see more and more of the hall below. She held her breath and slowed to a hesitant tiptoe as she saw the men with guns. The woman with her distinctive auburn hair sprawled on the floor. The group of frightened children with Miss Whitfield.

And finally – thankfully – Rich. He was standing slightly apart from everyone else, closer to the stage, with Gemma Stroud. Somehow Jade had to get him out of there. She didn't know what was going on, but if it didn't have something to do with their dad, then she'd be very surprised.

A tall, broad-shouldered hulk of a man seemed to be in charge. He had a fierce red beard. He was gesturing for Miss Whitfield and the children to
move away from the unconscious – or dead? – woman. His men herded them back towards the stage, making them sit along the front with their hands on their knees.

“You all do as you're told, and no one need get hurt.” He was a big man with a Scottish accent. “Just sit there, good as gold, while we get what we came for. I'll probably have some questions for you in a minute. And don't get any ideas about calling for help. We've got this place locked down. No phones in or out. Mobiles are jammed too. There are police at the gates to tell any of your parents who might turn up for you to wait a bit and not to worry. Same goes for the living block over the way. So far as they know there's a dangerous criminal got into the school and everyone's to stay put till the police sort it out.” He grinned suddenly, teeth appearing in the middle of the red beard. “And what do you know – there is a dangerous criminal lose in the school. Whole lot of them in fact.”

Several of the gunmen laughed as the bearded man guffawed at his own joke. Jade moved slowly back towards the door into the storeroom. If Rich had any hope of getting away, she needed to create a diversion. A diversion that didn't involve getting shot.

Jade found what she wanted just inside the storeroom – a particularly heavy textbook. She eased back towards the front of the gallery. Fortunately all the gunmen were watching their leader and the captives sitting along the front of the stage. Jade risked a wave, trying to attract Rich's attention. But of course he was watching the gunmen.

As she got more desperate, Jade was afraid she would not get anyone's attention. But eventually, Gemma noticed her. Even from the other end of the hall, Jade saw her tense slightly. Gemma nudged Rich and he followed the direction of her stare. As he saw Jade, he smiled. He gave the smallest nod.

The next problem was how to tell Rich what she was going to do. Jade held up the book and Rich frowned. Did he think she was wanting help with her Maths detention? She brandished the book like it was her dearest possession. Then she mimed throwing it. Again Rich nodded – so far so good. But even with a distraction, what could he do?

Rich glanced round, wondering what he could do when Jade threw the book. If the gunmen were looking for the big diamond, he would rather they
didn't find it in his pocket. Should he chuck it away? Best would be to escape himself. But how?

They'd started the first drama session last week with a tour of the little backstage area of the hall. Miss Whitfield had pointed out the wheel you turned to open and close the curtains, the way the backdrops could be slotted in and out, the lighting controls in a booth at the front of the hall and something else too that Rich thought might be useful. If only he had time.

He nudged Gemma. “Stay here,” he whispered. “Look after everyone. You'll be safest if you stay put and do as they tell you.”

She stared at him, eyes wide.

On the gallery at the far end of the hall, Jade was holding up three fingers. She'd count to three. She held the book up in one hand – ready. With the other hand she showed thumbs up. Then finger and thumb: two. Thumb and two fingers: three.

She threw the book, tossing it just far enough for it to arc over the end of the gallery. Already Jade was backing away, ready to escape.

The book landed with a loud
thwack
. The gunmen all turned towards the sound. Rich scrambled back
across the stage, Gemma shifting along slightly to disguise the gap where he had been.

“Come on, come on,” he breathed urgently to himself, scrabbling at the small metal ring in the stage floor. The trapdoor was heavy, but he managed to swing it open and dropped into the space below, lowering the door quickly behind him. He held it slightly open, making sure there was no sound as he gently closed it.

Rich crouched in the darkness. He could hear shouting from the hall, people moving. Then gunfire. He hardly dared to breathe, knowing that if he moved at all he might knock into something. And he had no idea how to get out from beneath the stage.

Jade heard the book land, saw Rich moving quickly to the trapdoor – good idea! Almost immediately, there were shouts from below. The red-bearded man was turning full circle, gun raised as he looked for where the book had come from.

She was almost back at the storeroom when he caught sight of her. The man's gun came up. Fire spat from the end of it and Jade hurled herself backwards. She tripped on the step up to the door and fell heavily. A line of bullet holes erupted from the door
frame level with where her head had been. She scrambled backwards and pulled the door shut.

But not before she had heard the bearded man shouting at several of his gunmen to get up to the gallery. Did they know the way round to the maths corridor? Didn't matter, Jade realised as she heard the sounds from below – they were climbing up the supporting pillars under the gallery. Coming after her.

She dashed through the storeroom, pulling piles of books over behind her – anything to slow them down. As she emerged into the corridor outside, she slammed into a figure standing in the doorway and gave a cry of surprise and fear.

“What on earth's going on?” Mr Argent asked. “That was gunfire!”

“Oh, thank God it's you.”

“What's happening?”

“Men with guns. Right behind me. Come on!”

Judging from the sounds coming from the storeroom – more books and furniture being pushed aside – there wasn't time to get back to Mr Argent's room. Jade led the way quickly to the narrow stairs.

“What about those other boys?” Mr Argent asked quietly.

“Mike and Rupam? Have to hope we lead the gunmen away.”

“What a thing to have to hope for.”

The sound of heavy boots on the stairs echoed down to them from above.

The darkness seemed to diminish slightly as Rich's eyes grew used to it. He could make out shapes, darker patches where there were support struts for the stage above. Soon he was confident enough to start crawling through the space, heading for the back of the stage and hoping there was a way out. Miss Whitfield hadn't told them how you got out from the trapdoor…

The sounds from the hall were muffled. But he could make out the shouts of one of the gunmen.

“Barney's gone after them, down the stairs. These two were hiding in a classroom up there. Say they were on detention.”

“Find a way back down here and bring them with you,” the Scotsman replied – louder and closer. “Let's keep them all together in here.”

There was silence for a while and Rich found himself at the back wall of the stage. He felt carefully along the back and the underside, trying to find a way out – an
opening or another trapdoor. But there was nothing. Dust was beginning to clog his throat and nostrils and he was terribly afraid he would have to cough.

“Right,” the leader shouted. “Pearson, you and Gray stay in here with the kids and anyone else we come across. The rest of us, let's find what we came for and get out of here.”

Someone said something else, but Rich couldn't hear their words, just a muffled rumble of sound.

“Ah, she's out of it,” the Scotsman replied. “Maybe she'll bleed to death, though the wound's not too bad. When I aim to shoot someone in the shoulder, I damn well shoot them in the shoulder. But if we get what we came for, we won't need her anyway. She was useful to lead us here.”

Rich had crawled all the way to the side of the stage now. He had his hand pressed against the underside as he went. Right at the edge, in the corner, he suddenly felt the boards above him give slightly. Trying not to get his hopes up, he pushed hard, and felt the stage above him move. Another trapdoor – but where did it come out? If it was in full view of the gunmen in the hall, he was in serious trouble.

A strip of dim light shone in through the widening
gap as he pushed the door slowly upwards. Was it Rich's imagination or was the light not as bright as he would have expected? After so much time under the stage in near darkness, it was difficult to tell.

As soon as the opening was big enough, Rich peered out. It
was
darker here because it was in shadow. He was in the wings – off to the side of the stage and out of sight of the hall.

Rich climbed out. There was a fire door at the side of the stage, with a long metal bar across it you pushed to unlatch it. Miss Whitfield had mentioned that during a performance, they kept the door open so the actors could get in and out to the classrooms they used for costume changing and make-up.

Opening the door was bound to make some noise. Rich took a deep breath, preparing to run, and pressed the opening bar. The door opened so easily it took Rich by surprise.

But not as much as the immediate loud ringing of the fire alarm.

A few minutes earlier, Jade had been running. But she didn't see Mr Argent being able to outrun the gunman clattering down the stairs close behind
them. So as they ran, she pulled off her school tie.

The bottom of the narrow staircase emerged in a corridor just off the main reception foyer outside the hall. As the walls stopped, metal banisters replaced them.

As soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs, Jade bent down and looped her tie through one of the rails, quickly knotting it about fifteen centimetres up the metal strut. “Keep going,” she hissed at Mr Argent. “I'll catch you up.”

“But what—”

“Just go!”

Jade doubled back into the space beside the staircase, pulling the tie across the width of the step. If the gunman was watching where he was going, he'd see the tie and he'd see Jade.

So when the alarm bell started just as the gunman rounded the last corner of the stairs, Jade almost whooped for joy.

He looked up, searching for the source of the sound. He failed to see the tie stretched across the stairs. He was still running fast, desperate to catch his prey.

His foot caught so hard on the tie that it was wrenched from Jade's. Her palms burned from the friction.

But the gunman came off worse. He was propelled headlong from several steps up, his cry of surprise lost in the sound of the bell. There was a sickening crunch as the man crashed down. His chin bounced off the floor and blood sprayed from his nose. His gun slid away from him, but he made no move to retrieve it. No move at all.

Jade stood up. The bell died away and there was a moment's silence. Then Mr Argent appeared from further down the corridor. He stared in disbelief at the prone body across the corridor and the splatters of blood.

“Let's see if we can lock him up somewhere before he comes round,” Jade said.

“What happened?”

Jade stuffed her tie into her blazer pocket. “He fell for it,” she said.

It was a relief when the alarm stopped. Rich cursed himself for not realising the fire door was linked to the alarm system. But the gunmen had presumably disabled it by now. At least they didn't know what had set it off. They might guess it was a door, but they didn't know which one.

Rich ran quickly down the outside of the hall. He wanted to find Jade. It didn't sound from what the chief gunman had said like there was any hope of phoning for help, and if there were fake police and other gunmen out in the grounds then escape might be difficult too. But if he could find Jade, and if together they could discover what the intruders were after…

The door into the main reception outside the hall was made of safety glass, so Rich could see into the foyer. With the lights on inside, he hoped that no one in the area would be able to see him outside, watching. Because the bearded chief of the gunmen, and another of the intruders were standing by the reception desk. They were looking at something beside it, on the wall. What was it? A picture?

It was difficult to remember what was on that wall. There were class photos and framed news clipping, sports certificates and achievement awards all round the reception area. There was even a large glass cabinet full of sports trophies and shields. But that was on the other side of the foyer. Rich went as close to the door as he dared, any closer and surely they would see him.