Hollow Pike (35 page)

‘Lis, run! Get help!’ Jack yelled from where he was pinned underneath Gray.

She hesitated for a moment, watching Jack’s rescue crumble and wondering what she should do.

‘Lis,
go
!’ yelled Jack. ‘Get the police!’

Lis didn’t wait any longer. She turned and ran.

The clatter of classroom furniture ringing in her ears, Lis sprinted to the fire exit. As she hit the metal bar, the fire doors mercifully swung open and she tumbled out into the freezing winter
night. Which way to go? This was the back of the school, with no access to the front driveway.
Think, brain, think!
On this side she had netball courts, the rugby pitch and the copse. Of
course . . . the copse. It all became horribly clear. Mrs Gillespie had told her that her dreams were a warning . . . a warning about
this
, and she knew exactly what awaited her in the black
trees.

Lis turned back to the fire escape, but heard heavy footsteps from inside the school, getting closer. Dream or no dream, there was no other way out – literally. Maybe she could even use
her dream – a map of the tangled paths through the copse formed in her mind. She was certain she could reach the other side of the wood, the safety of home. This time, she would ensure the
nightmare had a happy ending. Besides, what choice did she have? It was do or die. Hopefully do.

‘Go get Danny Marriott. He’s by the main entrance,’ Lis heard Gray shouting to Daphne and Jennifer inside the building behind her. ‘We can’t have any witnesses.
Kill him! I’ll get Lis!’

Move! Now!
Lis told herself. She squeezed down the side of the netball court, heading towards the rugby pitch. If she could get into the copse then she could employ the darkness, the
trees, the little secret dens. Gray would be just as lost as her. And if she could reach the other side . . . Hollow Pike, the police, safety.

Looking back she saw Mr Gray emerge from the fire doors. She’d been spotted.

Back in G2, Jennifer knelt on Jack’s chest, crushing him to the floor.

‘Got you now, you little bastard!’ Jennifer snarled. Jack responded by spitting straight into her face.

Jennifer slapped him. Daphne came to her side and the women dragged Jack across the carpet as he kicked and shouted.

‘Against the table!’ Jennifer commanded, pulling out the tape and wrapping it around and around Jack and the table legs as if trying to mummify him. ‘You have to kill
Danny!’ she added. ‘If he wakes up, we’re all in deep trouble.’ She handed Daphne the ornate dagger.

‘OK, deary. I’ll be back in a minute, don’t you worry.’

‘Just you wait till Lis calls Kitty’s dad,’ Jack growled. ‘He’ll make you wish you’d never been born.’

Jennifer laughed. ‘Idiot! Your little mate’s never going to reach the police. She’s exactly where we wanted her! You didn’t think we were going to kill you in the
classroom, did you? She’s dead meat.’

As soon as she reached the dilapidated boundary wall that separated the playing fields from the copse, Lis yanked her skirt up and clambered over the crumbling stone. She
scrambled over the top and fell down the other side, now oblivious to minor aches and pains. Her crushed nose was entirely numb, what were a few more cuts and scrapes?

Landing awkwardly in the undergrowth she picked herself up, deliberately heading away from the light of Fulton High and into the deepest darkness; it was now an ally in her escape.

‘You’re not going to make it, Lis!’ Gray called. She saw him appear at the top of the boundary wall. ‘Give up now! It’ll be easier that way.’

Not bloody likely. Lis fled, her muscles aching. Her legs weren’t used to this punishment, she was no runner. Blackness enveloped her and she could no longer see where her feet landed.
Brambles ripped at her tights, and her feet sank in sticky mud. But she had to keep going: deeper and darker, deeper and darker.

Mr Gray’s footsteps behind her grew closer, driving her forwards. How close was he?
Keep running. Don’t stop.
Her lungs seemed to be shrinking, retracting into useless,
painful weights within her chest. She couldn’t go on like this, she was making too much noise and her pursuer had a longer stride. As thin branches scratched against her face, she grasped the
rough bark of the nearest tree trunk. Pressing her body close, she clung on, lowering herself to kneel among the twisting roots.

She listened hard. Where was he?

Suddenly, a brilliant flash of lightning rocked the copse, shaking birds from their sleeping perches. It was followed a blink later by deep, furious thunder.

What is it they say?
Lis thought.
The sooner the thunder follows the lightning, the nearer the storm.
Another white bolt of energy forked across the sky with another thunderclap so
loud Lis could feel it shake the air.

A storm was on its way.

A pair of sheep’s-wool-lined winter boots shuffled down G Corridor. The dagger held out in front of her, Daphne reached the top of the long stone staircase that led to the
entrance hall. The school was silent, save for the steady ticking of the clock. Spread-eagled at the foot of the steps lay an unconscious youth. He looked heavy – and although they
weren’t supposed to kill anyone inside the school, how on earth was she meant to get him outside? Too bad, she’d have to kill him there. You can’t plan for everything, can
you?

Holding the bannister, because the stairs were steep and she had a bad hip, Daphne started to descend towards the boy Simon had called Danny. Poor thing. None of this had anything to do with
him. Oh, well – one boy wasn’t worth the risk of exposing the Righteous Protectors, not after so many centuries of secrecy.

Halfway down the stairs, she stopped and drew a deep breath in through her nose. Lavender. Without any shadow of a doubt the school smelled of lavender. ‘Lavender?’ she muttered to
herself, feeling anxious now. ‘Who’s there?’

She didn’t see the rounders bat swinging at the back of her head until it was far too late. Daphne slumped to the cold stone steps.

The rain fell heavily; sheets of water streamed down through the branches. Lis’s uniform was plastered to her skin as she dared to peek out from behind her tree trunk.
Somewhere close a twig snapped underfoot. The storm was a hindrance and a help; the brilliant lightning could easily illuminate her position, but at least the roaring thunder disguised her ragged
panting.

High above her, in the skeletal branches of the trees, birds circled like bats. It was as if they shared her panic. She couldn’t stay here all night. Gray would find her eventually.
Becoming the darkness, Lis slunk away from her hiding place. If she ran uphill to the highest point of the copse she’d be halfway to Hollow Pike.

The rain created a swamp under her stupid canvas pumps, yet she ran with renewed vigour, the birds noisily chanting their support. Her sprint was childlike, too frantic and desperate to be
athletic. Fire burned through her thighs as she struggled to keep going over the uneven earth, the footpath utterly lost. Gnarled branches reached down from the trees like talons and clawed at her
hair, which hung in tangled ropes around her face. Freezing water ran into her eyes, blurring her vision. Time and time again Lis smacked into trees, her only comfort the knowledge that Gray was at
an equal disadvantage.

She paused, trying to regain her bearings. Was she going up or down? Had she changed direction? She was surrounded by trees that seemed identical in the dark. There were no landmarks, no sign
posts. She was lost.

‘Lis!’ she heard Gray cry, bloodlust in his voice. ‘I see you!’

She ran.

‘You know, the devil bore children with the witches through incubi and succubi,’ Jennifer said, as she strutted up and down the classroom, looking oddly beautiful in
the dancing candlelight.

‘You’re a nutjob!’ Jack snapped.

‘The Beast walks the forest.’ She stroked Delilah’s hair. ‘But you know that, Delilah, don’t you? You’ve felt it too.’

Delilah could only scowl at her.

‘Why do you think your mother left town in such a hurry? We discovered her little secret . . . She just ran away and left you, didn’t she?’ Jennifer whispered.

A muffled expletive tore from Delilah’s mouth and she rocked her chair back and forth, dying to get her hands on Mrs Rigg.

‘You’re one to talk about parenting,’ Jack spat. ‘Great job you did with Laura!’

Jennifer wrapped her fingers in Jack’s hair and twisted his head back. Jack yelped. ‘Don’t think I won’t kill you here, you little fairy,’ she snarled. Then she
froze and sniffed the air. ‘Lavender,’ she stated.

‘What?’ Jack struggled against his bindings.

‘For protection . . .’ Jennifer went on, though she seemed to be talking to herself now.

The scent of lavender grew more potent, filling G2. The air almost seemed to thicken, filling with a sweet-smelling, hazy fog. Jack’s eyes began to water, but at least Jennifer released
her grip on his hair. ‘What the hell?’

Disconnected voices drifted into the room like wraiths in a mist. They came from nowhere and everywhere, as if the walls themselves were speaking. The voices were soft, gentle, dreamlike. The
words became louder and clearer.
Safe in your light. Safe from harm. Safe from fear. Safe in your light. Safe from harm. Safe from fear. So mote it be
.’