Night School - Endgame (19 page)

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Authors: C.J. Daugherty

BOOK: Night School - Endgame
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Without warning she pivoted and shot up towards him – a slim arrow of muscle and bone, flying across a century-old roof, her hair streaming behind.

Too late Gabe realised what she was doing. ‘What —?’

She loosed a high, brutal kick, straight to his midsection. Taken by surprise, he grunted from the blow and lost his balance, rolling twice on the roof before stopping himself with sheer, brute strength.

Zoe whirled back towards him. Fast and light.

‘Zoe!’ Allie cried, and ran after her. Knowing what would happen next. Knowing how quickly Gabe recovered. Knowing Zoe had never seen him fight.

Time slowed.

The tiles were solid under Allie’s feet, and gravity was her friend, pulling her down to where the two figures were haloed in moonlight. Zoe looked so small. So fragile.

Allie couldn’t seem to hear anything at all – not her footsteps, not her heart. She ran in a vacuum of terror. Unable to breathe or think.

With sickening smooth purpose Gabe rose and reached for Zoe – fast as a snake strike. He didn’t need to turn to see where she was – he just knew. He always knew.

He is the best of all of us. 

Allie had no doubt he would throw her from the roof just like that pebble earlier. With as little thought or conscience.

Just before his hands could touch Zoe’s slim arm, though, Allie reached him. Bending low as she’d been trained, she let her weight and her speed drive her shoulder into his abdomen. Knocking him off his feet.

Even as she hit him, though, she was pulling back, reaching for Zoe who, wide-eyed with surprise, grabbed her hand in a move that was pure instinct.

Gabe reached for her, too, grappling for anything to hold on to as he tumbled backwards.

But she was just out of his reach. His fingers caught only air.

There was nothing to hold him back. No one to pull him from the edge.

In the bright, cold moonlight, his confused gaze locked on to Allie’s for what seemed like forever but must have been a fraction of a second.

Then, with a look of utter surprise, he fell from the edge of the high, slate roof, disappearing into the night with no more sound than a rush of wind.

26

A
llie wouldn’t let go
of Zoe’s hand.

They sat in Isabelle’s office, surrounded by a hubbub of frantic activity – guards and teachers all shouting and arguing.

A nurse had come down from the infirmary to clean and bandage her neck wound. Allie was still as a stone as she worked. Dazed and unaware. When the nurse gave her an injection, Allie barely noticed the sting.

All she knew was Zoe’s slim, small hand, warm and alive in her own.

For a while, Zoe endured this contact, her emotionless face puzzled but polite. After a while, though, she leaned towards Allie.

‘You’re hurting my hand.’

It took everything in Allie to let go. But she did.

Zoe flexed her fingers and tightened them into a fist. Deciding Allie hadn’t done lasting damage, she beamed at her.

‘I have to go tell Lucas what happened. He won’t believe it.’

She was gone in an instant – a bullet of energy shooting through the crowded room.

‘There you go.’ The nurse bustled around her, gathering her supplies into a black plastic case. ‘All done.’

Isabelle left a cluster of teachers to join them. She rested a hand on Allie’s shoulders.

‘How is she?’

‘Stitched back together again.’ The nurse sounded disapproving, as if it was Isabelle’s fault this had happened. ‘The cut wasn’t deep and the knife hit no major arteries, thank goodness.’ She closed her bag with a snap. Her lips were stretched tight, as if holding back many unflattering words. ‘I’ve given her an injection as you instructed.’

‘Thank you, Emma.’ Isabelle’s voice was measured. ‘My apologies for dragging you out of bed.’

‘I’m used to it,’ the nurse said sourly before marching away, her green scrubs swishing.

Isabelle sighed and glanced down at Allie.

‘Are you in much pain?’ She brushed a fingertip against the bloodstained collar of her blouse. The gesture was subtle but tender.

Allie, who couldn’t seem to feel much of anything, ignored the question.

‘Isabelle, promise me Gabe’s really dead. You’re sure?’ She’d already asked this question many times. She couldn’t seem to stop herself asking it again.

She hadn’t seen the body – no one would let her. She’d heard, faintly, the concussion when it hit. And the commotion that arose four storeys below.

But she couldn’t see anything. She’d nearly tumbled after him, pulled by her own forward motion. But Zoe had held onto her arm with a relentless grip, using her entire weight to pull her back to safety, digging her heels against the hard tiles.

By the time they’d climbed down, the school was in uproar. Guards surrounded the body. Students had been ordered into the common room. Teachers and guards ran everywhere searching for other intruders.

Cimmeria was in lockdown now – no one allowed in or out. On some level, everyone knew it was futile. The place was too big to fully secure. They could find every hole, close every gate. But a ten-foot fence couldn’t keep out someone absolutely set on getting in.

Gabe and Nathaniel kept proving that.

Still, they had to try.

‘He’s really dead,’ Isabelle said. ‘I swear it.’

She lowered herself into the leather chair next to Allie’s.

‘What happens now?’ Allie looked down at her bloodstained hands. ‘Should we call the police…?’

‘Of course not.’ The headmistress cut her off, her expression indicating the suggestion was absurd. ‘His body will be… taken care of.’ She leaned forward to catch Allie’s gaze. ‘No one will ever know what happened. It’s all been arranged. Please don’t worry about that.’

It didn’t make Allie feel any better to know she’d never face justice. Because that also meant no judge would ever hear her side and exonerate her for what she’d done. It would always sit on her conscience – a horrible secret she could never share with anyone.

She didn’t feel guilty, exactly. On some level she could completely vindicate her actions – self-defence, protecting Zoe – but that didn’t make Gabe any less dead.

I’ve killed a human being.
 
Even though it had just happened, the fact was impossible to fathom. How would she feel in a year? A decade?

By then she probably wouldn’t believe it herself.

Her neck was stiff from the cut and the bandages. She couldn’t turn her head without burning pain. Whatever the nurse had given her was making it hurt less, but it was also making her feel fuzzy. The edges had begun to blur.

Isabelle kept talking, explaining what the teachers were doing. The guards. But Allie found it hard to focus. Her gaze wandered, taking in the teachers, their faces creased with worry, and the guards. She wanted to ask something, but she couldn’t seem to form the question.

She felt warm all of a sudden, and very tired. Her eyelids had begun to droop.

What did that nurse give me? 

‘I can’t…’ She tried to tell Isabelle what was happening, but the words were slurred.

‘You need to rest.’ Through a tired haze, Allie saw Isabelle motion to two guards. One was a woman, her hair in a long, blonde braid that hung down her back like rope. Allie thought she knew her from somewhere.

‘Take her upstairs,’ the headmistress instructed. ‘The nurse gave her a tranquiliser and I don’t think she should walk. I’ll come with you to clean her up.’

A tranquiliser? 

‘Up you get.’ The male guard put his arm under her shoulders and gently lifted her to her feet. But her knees felt oddly unstable; soft as custard.

She sank slowly towards the floor.

‘Oopsy daisy.’ He swept her up in one smooth move – one arm beneath her knees, and another behind her back.

She blinked at him blearily. Like the woman, he looked familiar. Pale hair and kind eyes. But her brain wouldn’t work. Every thought seemed like such hard work.

It was easier to close her eyes.

‘It’s time to go sleepybye…’ he said heading towards the door. And the words floated over her head like birds.

 

Allie woke in her own bed. The shutter had been closed over the arched window, but bright daylight bled through the cracks around it.

She needed to know what time it was, how much time Carter had left, but when she turned her head to look at the clock the wound on her neck stung like fire and she groaned, rolling back.

It all came rushing back. Zoe. Gabe.

It was like waking into a nightmare.

With effort she managed to sit up, and turn her body, holding her neck stiff.

Befuddled, she looked down at her clothes. She was in her pyjamas – the blood was gone from her hands. Someone – Isabelle she guessed – had cleaned her up and changed her clothing, which was unpleasant to think about. But she had no memory of it at all.

Whatever the nurse had given her had knocked her out cold.

Every movement hurt, but she put her feet on the floor and stood slowly, her breath hissing between her teeth.

She moved slowly, gathering her shower things, and then headed down the hallway. In the empty bathroom, she showered carefully, struggling to keep the bandage dry and failing, generally.

Afterwards, she brushed her teeth, studying herself in the mirror. Her grey eyes were sober. Aside from the bandage on her neck, the night had left no visible marks.

A stranger would never know she’d killed a man.

After hurriedly dressing, she made her way downstairs. The school looked exactly the same – elegant high ceilings and polished wood, marble statues and crystal chandeliers. Everything just where it should be.

But with each step Allie was conscious that she had changed. She felt different. As if she’d aged ten years overnight.

No one ever deserved to die more than Gabe. But she was not a judge and jury. The seriousness of what had happened could not be ignored. Everything might be covered up – all the evidence hidden away forever – but she would always know what she’d done.

The ground floor was busy – students, guards and instructors filled the common room. Allie turned right by and headed for Isabelle’s office.

Her office door was closed, but Allie could hear voices within.

She knocked sharply on the oak door, carved with an elaborate pattern of acorns, leaves and fruit, as familiar to Allie now as her own hands.

‘Come in.’

The door swung open.

Isabelle was leaning back in her chair, her mobile to her ear. When she saw Allie, she straightened abruptly.

‘I’m sorry, Dom,’ she said, ‘Allie’s here. I have to go.’

Setting the phone down on her desk, she hurried to where Allie stood.

‘How are you feeling?’ Her critical gazed swept across Allie as if looking for new damage.

‘You drugged me.’ Allie shot her an accusing look. ‘I feel drugged.’

‘I’m sorry.’ The headmistress spoke without a hint of apology in her tone. ‘You were exhausted and in shock.’ She motioned for her to enter. ‘Come in. Sit.’

‘How long was I out?’ Allie asked. ‘How much time is left?’

Isabelle didn’t ask what she meant. ‘Seventeen hours,’ she said.

Allie’s breath caught. No time at all. Not even a day.

‘Why did you drug me?’ she said, fighting to control her temper. ‘I was out six hours. I could have helped.’

‘Come on, Allie.’ Isabelle’s tone was even. ‘You were no good to anyone last night. You still look wobbly. Now, please.’ She gestured at a chair. ‘Sit.’

Allie didn’t want to admit she needed to sit down but she did feel light-headed. Reluctantly, she did as she was told.

The headmistress bustled to the corner of the room where she kept the kettle. Allie tried to focus on the job at hand. But the residual drugs in her blood made her brain sluggish.

‘Has anything happened since last night?’ she asked.

Isabelle shook her head. ‘There’s nothing new. The feed to Carter is still down. Raj has been out at the farm most of the night.’

She poured hot water into cups, steam rising in a cloud. Allie watched her for a moment, gearing up for the next question.

‘Does Nathaniel know? About Gabe, I mean?’

The headmistress handed her tea in a white mug with the Cimmeria crest on the side in midnight blue.

‘His absence has been noticed.’ Isabelle walked around the desk to her chair and sat down. ‘It doesn’t appear they have any idea what happened to him.’

Neither of them used the ‘D’ word.

Allie took a sip of tea. It was sweet and strong.

She made herself think about how Gabe had acted on the roof last night – the things he’d said about Nathaniel.

‘I don’t think Nathaniel knew what Gabe was up to.’

Isabelle’s eyebrows winged up. ‘Explain.’

Allie told her what he’d said – his criticisms of Nathaniel. ‘To me, it sounded almost like he was standing up to Nathaniel.’ She frowned as she thought it over. ‘Defying him.’

‘Interesting.’ Isabelle tapped a finger against her chin. ‘If Gabe acted outside of orders, Nathaniel won’t be looking for him. In fact, I suspect he’ll be glad he’s gone. If we continue as normal, he won’t know he’s lost his rogue henchman. He’ll still be afraid of what he might do. That could distract him.’

It was easier to think of everything from last night like this – looking at the technical side of it, the strategy. Like a giant game.

The headmistress glanced up. ‘There’s something else I need to tell you.’

Allie didn’t like the look on her face. It was like she was gearing up for a fight.

‘Raj is going to meet Owen Moran this afternoon.’

‘What?’ Allie set her tea cup down on the table next to her with a thud. Hot tea sloshed on her fingers. ‘Raj is going to meet him? Since when?’

‘Allie, you’re injured…’ The headmistress sighed.

‘I know I’m injured.’ Allie pointed at the bandage on her throat. ‘It’s kind of hard for me to miss. But that doesn’t mean I can’t sit and talk to a man.’

‘Don’t be unreasonable, Allie,’ Isabelle said evenly. ‘If it went wrong you’d need to run. To fight. And you must know you’re in no fit state —’

‘Isabelle, enough.’ Allie slammed her fist against the arm of the chair with such force the headmistress stopped talking and looked at her in surprise.

‘I am fully aware I’m injured. I am also aware that makes this meeting more dangerous for me.’ The headmistress opened her mouth to speak but Allie held up her hand to stop her. ‘But this doesn’t change the fact that I have a better chance of convincing this guy to join our side than Raj does. He knows what Nathaniel’s doing is wrong. But if a security expert he doesn’t trust tells him it’s wrong, I think he’ll swing at him. If a wounded girl tells him it’s wrong… I think he’ll listen.’

‘Allie, it’s too dangerous,’ Isabelle said.

Allie held up her hands. ‘And I am willing to accept the danger. Just as willing as I was last night.’

‘What if I’m not willing?’ The headmistress met her gaze defiantly.

‘It’s just not your decision, Isabelle,’ she said. ‘Not this.’

The headmistress looked stunned – as if Allie had unexpectedly betrayed her. Spots of colour rose high on the planes of her cheeks.

‘I think you’ll find I still run this school.’ Her voice was haughty. ‘You’d do well to remember that.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Realising she’d gone too far, Allie softened her tone. ‘But you can’t protect me, Isabelle. Not anymore. No matter how hard you try.’

‘That’s not true,’ Isabelle said, although her expression suddenly lacked conviction.

‘It is true. We all know it’s true.’ Allie brushed her fingertips against the soft fabric of the bandage on her neck. ‘Isabelle, this has to end. This whole thing. Raj can’t end it. You can’t end it.’ She dropped her hand. ‘But I can.’

‘Allie.’ The headmistress let out a breath. ‘I want you to go too, but it’s simply too dangerous. You’d have to be in a public place with this man. A place we couldn’t begin to control. We have no idea if he’s unstable, or even if we’re right about which side he’s on. We are pinning a lot on a few overheard words and a single hand gesture.’

Allie didn’t back down.

‘We’ve done more based on less,’ she said.

She’d never felt more sure of herself. She had to make her understand.

‘I know I’m right about Nine, Isabelle. And not because I really want to be right, or because I want Carter back so much I’m looking for a way to be right. I did the work. I listened to every word he said. You can research this now – find out who he is, help me understand who I’m dealing with. But I’ve played every second of this by the rules. Your rules. And now you have to let me finish this.’

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