Dreamrider (19 page)

‘I tell you, Michael. This school has its faults. But at times like this I feel a paternal frisson for the place. It's even better than last year, and that was considered a tour de force among the cognoscenti.'

I didn't know what he was talking about so I said nothing.

Mr Atkins reached out, as if he was going to touch me on the arm. Then he seemed to think better of it. He locked his fingers together.

‘I'm very glad to see you here, Michael,' he said. ‘Very glad indeed. I didn't think . . . well, never mind what I thought. I hope you will use this evening to make contact. Talk to other students. Get the trick of it.' He pulled out a coin and made it vanish again. ‘Remember?'

A smile played around my lips, but it soon faded. Far off in the corner of the hall was a boy who wasn't in costume. He had a baseball cap pulled low and he was talking on a mobile phone. His eyes were in shadows. It was too far away to see clearly, but I knew he was staring at me as he talked.

‘I have to go, Mr Atkins,' I said.

‘By all means, Michael. Mingle, my boy. As E.M. Forster would undoubtedly say: only connect.'

And I did. I made the connections. Jamie Archer had friends, many of them. Was the boy in the cap one of the ones outside Mr Williams's maths class? I couldn't be sure. Not unless I saw his face clearly. But I was nearly certain.

I did know I was safe in here. I could sit next to Mr Atkins or stand by the teacher at the door. Probably even arrange a lift home. But Leah was out there somewhere. Getting drinks for us. She had been a long time. Too long. I stood.

I made my way to the exit. The crowds parted to let me pass. I couldn't see the boy in the red cap now. He had disappeared into shadows. A student stamped the back of my hand so I could get back in again. Gentle rain was falling, a fine mist dancing in the lights. Miss Palmer was at the door now, laughing with a group of students. She smiled at me and waved. I didn't wave back.

The trestle table was under cover and there were dozens of students buying drinks. Further along the wall, the barbecue was smoking, a cloud of shimmering heat rising. The smell of sausages and onions drifted and tantalised. A larger crowd was gathered there, maybe four deep. Some were jostling, shouting over the heads of those in front. I couldn't see Leah. I walked slowly past both queues, just to make sure. Perhaps she had gone back inside. Maybe she was wandering the hall, trying to find me.

I didn't think so.

I walked around the corner of the hall and followed the wall towards the oval. The sounds of the Social were muffled here, though the wall on my left pulsed with energy. Suddenly, the world was empty. Scores of students were a few metres away, but I felt completely alone. I kept walking to the end of the hall wall.

The oval was a black curtain. I could see faint outlines of trees against the sky. A moonless night. The rain pressed in and I put my hood up. Nothing moved within the darkness. I turned left along the back of the hall. I had a strong sense of being watched. It was a pressure between my shoulder blades. Once or twice I turned, certain someone was a few paces behind me. Each time no one was there.

When I reached the far corner I heard a dim buzz of conversation. I was in front of a classroom used by Phys. Ed. staff. It jutted near the edge of the oval. I moved slowly, stretching my neck to peer around the corner.

For a moment I could see nothing. Then three tiny spheres of red light came into focus. They swayed lazily in the dark. The murmurs came from behind the glowing balls. I took a step forward and the voices stopped. The lights danced crazily, then disappeared.

‘Who's there?' The voice was brittle with anxiety.

I stepped forward again. Even with my eyes adjusted to the night, it was difficult to see the three boys. They were hunched together against the wall, hands behind their backs. When they saw me, they relaxed. I wasn't a teacher. One boy moved out of the shadows. He pointed at the cowl of my cloak.

‘Who are you?' he said. ‘I can't see your face.'

I lowered the hood. He squinted into my face and turned to his friends.

‘It's all right,' he said. ‘It's that fat bastard. The new kid.'

They took lighted cigarettes from behind their backs and drew hungrily on them. The tips glowed brightly, staining their lips and fingers red. They ignored me.

‘Christ. Thought it was a teacher for a moment.'

‘Yeah, you shat yourself, Darren.'

‘Did not.'

‘Did, too.'

‘I'm looking for a girl,' I said. They shut up then, but only briefly. Then they cracked up laughing. Their giggles were shrill at the edges.

‘Aren't we all, mate?' said one of the boys. It might have been Darren. ‘Mind you, she'd have to be pretty desperate to be with you.' The other two almost choked with laughter. They bent over, gasping for breath. The boy smiled, proud of his wit. I took another step.

‘Shut up,' I yelled. ‘Shut up and listen.'

They did. Before their shock could dissolve to anger, I described Leah. I told them she might have been with a boy or boys. I said she wouldn't be with them willingly. The boy who'd spoken first was the quickest to recover. He took a step towards me. His lips were twisted into a snarl. A bead of spit pooled at the corner of his mouth.

‘Nah,' he said. ‘We haven't seen anyone, ya fat shit.' He stuck a finger in my face. ‘And who do you think you are, talking to me like that? You're asking for it . . .'

I grabbed his finger and twisted. Surprise flooded his eyes and then pain. I increased the pressure. His knees buckled and he crouched in front of me. The other two boys jerked forward, but I held up my other hand and stopped them. I reached down and took the boy's lighted cigarette. Very slowly I closed my fist over it. The smell of burned flesh lingered in the air. I let the boy go and placed the crushed cigarette into his palm. There was fear in his eyes, but I had no time to pay attention.

‘Thanks for your help,' I said.

I pulled my hood up and pushed past them. The two boys pressed themselves against the wall to let me through. I turned the corner of the building. The darkness of the main school towered in front of me. Nothing moved, but I could feel eyes watching. I walked away from the hall and entered the shadows draping the school.

4
.

The sounds of the hall were faint. Emptiness and darkness surrounded me. My footsteps echoed on the paths. Occasionally I heard the skitter of animals. A few times, slight movement at the corner of my vision made my head snap around. Shadows played tricks. More than once I thought I saw a figure hunched in a dark recess. My heart pounded but there was nothing there.

The school was a network of stairs and walkways, snaking along the outside walls. Guard rails, as high as my shoulder, stopped anyone falling. On a hunch, I took the first set of stairs I came to. I found myself on a walkway that ran past C Block. Directly ahead, another flight of stairs led up to D Block. Yellow security lights glowed above the stairs. The sense of being watched grew stronger. I knew someone was up there, tracking me. I stopped and craned my neck. The latticework of walkways and rails stretched towards the blackness of the sky. Plenty of places to hide. I watched for shifting shapes within shadows, but couldn't see anything. I took another step forward.

I'm not sure if it was the movement or the noise that alerted me first. I caught a scuttling flash of movement down to my right. At the same time there was a cry of ‘There!' I took a halfstep towards the railings and glanced down. A boy was running from the hall, his arm outstretched, one finger pointing towards me. Then more kids emerged from the shadows. Two, three, four boys converging on the staircase. I couldn't make out their faces. One had a red baseball cap. Another had red hair.

I glanced along the walkway. I had no time to get back to the stairs, let alone down them, before they'd be streaming up. I cursed myself for coming here, a place where there was nowhere to run. I looked up again. It was the only place to go and I had wasted enough time. Already I could hear the pounding of feet on metal stairs. I pushed my hood down and ran towards the flight of stairs leading up to D Block.

Even as I raced up the stairs I knew my choices were limited. Face them or get off the building. They were faster than me – outrunning them wasn't an option. There were doors leading off the walkways into classrooms, but they would probably be locked. There wasn't even time to check. As I ran I glanced around to see if I could double back. Each level had two sets of stairs, one at each end. If they followed my exact path, maybe I could get to the level I had just left and from there to the ground. But they had split up. Two were racing along C Block, below and slightly behind me. The others had reached the bottom of the stairs I had just taken. They were covering all exits. Driving me upwards.

Sweat was pouring off me, dripping into my eyes, making them sting. My vision was blurred. There was no more shouting, just the clang of shoes on metal and the harsh sound of my own breathing. I got to E Block, but my legs were heavy, muscles binding and locking. I couldn't keep this up for much longer. I had to make a decision.

I made it to the end of the walkway and stopped. The running feet behind me were getting closer. They were on the same level, half-way along. Jamie Archer was leading. I could see the set of his jaw, fists pumping up and down as he sprinted towards me. No time to think.

I climbed up the metal bars of the guard rail, next to the stairs. There were four bars. I stood on the top and steadied myself with my left hand against the stair rail. I stooped to keep my balance, swaying slightly as I centred my feet. The bar was hard and narrow under my shoes. There was only blackness beneath and a dizzying drop. Slowly I raised my head. Only seconds remained. The clatter of running feet behind me was loud. I could sense Jamie reaching out for me as I bent, took a deep breath, and pushed away from the bar, sailing up and out into the darkness.

My hands grabbed the edge of the concrete ledge and clung on as my body pounded into the wall. It felt like a giant hand had slammed into my stomach, punching the air out. I closed my eyes as a wave of nausea spread through me.

The gap between the buildings was not great. Less than two metres, probably. But I hadn't been able to take a run up. It was a standing jump and the roof of the other building was slightly above my head. Perhaps the adrenalin helped. Now I hung by my fingers down the wall face. Jamie could almost touch me. Almost. I could hear him and the others behind me. Maybe they were willing me to fall. Maybe they were stunned by what I'd done. But there was no shouting, no insults. All I could hear was a faint rush of air, their panting breaths and my own heartbeat.

My arms started to ache. I tried to pull myself up before the pain robbed my muscles of strength. I opened my eyes and saw only the blur of grey concrete. My feet scrabbled at the wall, but couldn't find any grip. If I could hook an elbow over the parapet I'd have a chance. But my body was a dead weight. I could feel the veins on my neck stand out. My face was slick with sweat and my hands were clammy. I held my breath and strained upwards, willing the muscles of my arms to one final effort. For one brief moment, I thought I'd made it. My right elbow scraped the top of the wall. I was millimetres from hooking it over, when my arms collapsed. One moment they were bunched, the next I was at full stretch again. But this time I had nothing left. My fingers, slippery with sweat, were losing their grip. I was seconds from falling, with no strength to do anything about it.

I've read that when you are about to die, you feel calm and peaceful. That didn't happen. All I felt was a surge of panic that bloomed and filled me. I couldn't scream. I couldn't breathe. There was no room for anything other than the rush of adrenalin. My mind focused on slick fingers and their slow slide. I felt no pain. Not then. A hard knot of determination kept fingers locked and everything else at bay. Time was almost frozen. Small frames that passed with painful slowness.

The hands gripped my wrists, just as my fingers loosened. Maybe I had a second or two left, maybe as many as ten. Impossible to tell. I felt the hands, cool and hard, and suddenly that dark force of gravity weakened. I pushed my feet against the side of the wall and they found traction. My left elbow locked over the parapet, then my right. Hands grabbed the neck of my cloak. I was hauled up and over and onto the flat, safe surface of the roof. My breathing started again. I was tearing at the air, forcing great gulps into my lungs. My fingers were cramped and knotted.

It took me a few minutes to recover enough to get to my feet. Martin was standing there. He was smiling and shaking his head.

‘Call yourself a Dreamrider?' he said. ‘You've got no idea, mate. No idea at all.'

I flexed my fingers. Feeling was returning. I could tell from the pain. My arms hung limply. I stared at Martin. He didn't have a hair out of place. My breathing showed no signs of slowing.

‘And what was that performance with Jamie?' he continued. ‘Breaking the fingers on his left hand? His
left
hand? Well, top marks for stupidity, mate. I mean, cool. I give you that. “Sinister.” That was a nice touch. But you've got to learn, Michael. No pity. Because pity results in situations like this. Jamie has a good hand. Now he's going to use it. And do you think he'll take pity on you? You blew it, mate.'

I couldn't think. His voice washed over me. Somewhere deep down, I knew what his words meant. But I wasn't ready to face that. Not quite yet. I pushed myself up straight and flexed my arms. I felt weak.

‘Good job I'm here to teach you,' said Martin. ‘I told you. I told you I'd be here to help you. We're almost there, Michael.'

‘Where's Leah?' I croaked. ‘If you've hurt her . . .'

‘Oh, for God's sake,' said Martin. He snapped the words out. ‘I wouldn't hurt Leah. She's a part of me as much as a part of you. She's safe, okay? Now, if you've had enough of a rest, I think it's wise to move on. There's company on its way and it's not friendly.'