Night School - Endgame (2 page)

T
he infirmary was
in the classroom wing on a mezzanine level where tall windows lined one wall, letting in sun so bright, Allie squinted in the glare. In tired silence, the three girls made their way past ghostly rooms where desks sat in empty rows, waiting for students who might never come back.

Allie ignored it all as she ignored the blood on her face and her own weariness. She wasn’t even thinking about how defeated Isabelle had looked outside. She was compiling a list of the missing in her head.

‘Where’s Zoe?’

‘She’s fine.’ Rachel answered quickly. ‘She volunteered to help the nurses.’ A ghost of a smile flickered across her tired face. ‘She’s decided she likes the sight of blood.’

‘Everyone else? Raj? Dom? Eloise?’

Nicole answered this time. ‘All safe.’

‘Dom, too?’ Allie couldn’t hide her surprise. The last time she’d seen the American girl, she was fighting her way through a crowd of Nathaniel’s guards to get to Carter.

‘Carter…’ Nicole began and then stopped for a second. ‘He got her into the car. Got her out of there. He had her back.’

Allie’s heart twisted.

‘That arsehole,’ she whispered, striking a tear away with the back of her hand. ‘He is so freaking stupid.’

But everyone knew she didn’t mean it.

‘Don’t give up hope, Allie,’ Rachel said, squeezing her arm. ‘Nobody saw him get hurt. We have to believe he’s all right and Nathaniel’s just holding him. To get to you.’

Before Allie could reply, they reached the main medical ward. A large room had been turned into a triage area. Medics clustered around a guard in a black uniform, stitching a wound on his arm.

The smell of rubbing alcohol combined with antibacterial cleaning liquid and the rusty tang of blood made Allie’s stomach churn.

‘Snip please.’ The cool, uninflected voice came from a small, plump woman with a stethoscope draped around her neck and narrow glasses perched on the end of her nose.

A nurse leaned where she indicated. A pair of silver scissors flashed in the light.

She bent over to examine her work, then straightened and threw bloodstained bandages into a bin. ‘You’re done, my dear.’

Glancing down at his arm, the man tested the stitches, flexing his hand into a tight fist before loosening it again. His muscles bulged.

Seeing this, the doctor sighed. ‘Do that a few more times and I’ll be stitching you up again. Shall we both attempt to avoid that little reunion? I so hate repeating myself.’

‘Sorry.’ The man’s voice was contrite.

As he stood to leave, Allie saw Zoe. She’d been standing behind the nurses, watching avidly.

Some of the tension left her body.

Spotting her, the younger girl gave an excited bounce. ‘You’re back!’

She shoved past the injured man without apology and raced to where Allie stood with Rachel and Nicole and hurled herself at her. It was more a tackle than a hug, but Allie didn’t mind at all.

‘You OK?’ Allie searched her smooth face for signs of injury and found none. ‘All in one piece?’

Zoe nodded, her ponytail bouncing with her enthusiasm. ‘Totally. I hurt a lot of people last night. It was ace.’

‘Zoe…’ Rachel spoke quietly.

The younger girl paused. Allie could see her thinking, figuring out the reasons why what she’d just said was inappropriate, and struggling to correct the oversight.

‘I’m sorry about your grandmother.’ Her tone took on a curious flatness, as if she was reciting something she’d memorised. But then she grew animated. ‘And Carter. I am so
 
pissed off about Carter.’

Someone cleared their throat and Allie looked up to see the doctor watching them.

‘Look what the cat dragged in,’ she said, not without empathy. She patted the seat the guard had vacated. ‘What’ve you done to yourself this time?’

Ordinarily Allie would have smiled at that. The doctors and nurses at the infirmary had treated her on more than one occasion. Today she couldn’t seem to fake it.

‘It’s not as bad as it looks,’ she said as she climbed into the chair, still a bit warm from the prior occupant.

The doctor snorted and snapped on her gloves. ‘I’ll be the judge of that.’

‘It’s good and bloody.’ Zoe sounded approving.

She hadn’t noticed how destroyed Allie was, or how frightened. And Allie was glad of that. Inside, she felt numb and confused and lost. But she had to get it together. No one would listen to her if they thought she was hysterical about Carter. No one would want to follow her if she tried to lead.

If they were going to work together to get Carter back, they had to believe she was fine.

She was fine.

Allie glanced at Zoe, forcing a brighter tone. ‘Rachel says you’re into blood now?’

‘I think I want to be phlebotomist.’

‘What’s that?’ Allie said. ‘It sounds like a kind of caterpillar.’

‘Blood doctor!’ Zoe enthused. ‘All you do, all day long, is play with blood.’

‘Oh good.’ Allie sighed. ‘So, basically a vampire.’

Zoe beamed. ‘Awesome.’

‘There is money,’ the doctor murmured, snipping Allie’s hair away from the wound with a small pair of scissors, ‘in phlebotomy.’

The girls exchanged looks of blank incomprehension.

For a while after that Zoe chattered about fighting and diseases while the medical team cleaned the blood from Allie’s forehead and stitched her scalp back together. Across the room, Rachel rested her head on Nicole’s shoulder.

Everything was horrible. Everything was wrong.

But Cimmeria was home. And this was the closest thing to normal Allie could imagine right now.

A few hours later, Allie hurried down the school’s sweeping main staircase. After a shower and a change of clothes, she felt a little more like herself. Ready to figure out what to do now.

Her head throbbed, and her hand strayed unconsciously towards the stitches in her scalp, now mostly hidden by her thick, golden-brown hair.

She hadn’t taken the pain pills the doctor gave her. She wanted to keep her head clear.

It was time to plan.

When she reached the ground floor, she turned into the wide formal hallway. The polished, oak-panelled walls gleamed. Sunlight danced off the gilded frames of the oil paintings, making them sparkle. The crystal chandelier hanging above the wide staircase glittered like diamonds. The marble statues on the landing could have been carved from snow.

Allie could never remember loving any place as much as she loved this school. But already she felt she was losing her grip on it.

Without Lucinda, how could they stay here? She’d held this place together.

And now she was gone.

As she passed the headmistress’ office, tucked away under the grand central staircase, Allie’s footsteps hesitated. She knew she needed to talk to Isabelle – to explain her actions. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She wasn’t ready to be that grown up yet.

Still, she needed information now. She needed to talk to someone she could trust.

At that moment, a guard walked by, dressed all in black. Allie caught his eye.

‘Where can I find Raj Patel?’

Allie and Raj sat across from each other in the mostly empty common room. Allie perched on the edge of a deep leather sofa. Raj was in a chair, watching her with unreadable dark eyes, almond-shaped, exactly like Rachel’s. He’d come as soon as she’d asked for him, even though he must have been busy. And she saw no judgement in his expression.

‘I just have to understand what happened,’ Allie said.

Raj didn’t look surprised by this.

‘The plan went smoothly,’ he said, ‘until it didn’t.’

She listened quietly as he went over everything that had gone right. She and Carter had made their way across Hampstead Heath just before midnight, as planned. They’d found Allie’s grandmother right where she was supposed to be, on Parliament Hill. And Nathaniel had joined them only a few minutes later than expected.

The mood had been calm – even jovial at times.

Until Jerry and Gabe appeared, each holding a gun.

‘Lucinda left Jerry shackled in a van near the park,’ Raj explained. ‘He was guarded by two members of her personal security team. We don’t know how Nathaniel discovered the location she’d chosen. But he did. Her guards were overwhelmed. Jerry was freed.’

Allie sagged back in her seat. It was so sickeningly obvious. The best plan foiled by the simplest means.

The most complicated design in the world can be destroyed in seconds by a basic hammer.

‘Where did they get the guns?’ she asked.

‘Gabe, I’d imagine.’ Raj’s voice dripped distaste. ‘He’s the only one insane enough to bring guns to a parley.’

Allie glanced at him. ‘You don’t think it was Nathaniel’s idea?’

He shook his head. ‘I got a good look at Nathaniel when he saw those weapons – he didn’t seem happy.’

This was a surprise. Nathaniel was a control freak. Surely he didn’t encourage off-roading among his minions.

‘As soon as we saw the guns we had to move,’ Raj continued. ‘I threw everything we had at them. And it worked. Eventually. But…’

His voice trailed off and he rubbed his eyes.

‘But Lucinda was shot.’ Allie finished the thought for him. She leaned forward intently. ‘Raj, did anyone see who shot her? Was it Jerry?’

Jerry Cole was the science teacher who had betrayed them all – who’d cost them Jo’s life when he sided with Nathaniel. It would make sense if he’d done this, too.

But Raj shook his head, lips tight. ‘It wasn’t Jerry. Isabelle was close enough to see it all. It was Gabe. And there’s something else you should know.’ He met Allie’s gaze. ‘Isabelle swears Gabe was aiming at Nathaniel.’

Allie took a sharp breath. ‘What?’

‘I didn’t see it myself,’ he said, ‘but Isabelle’s convinced Gabe was aiming at Nathaniel and, at the last minute, Lucinda stepped into the path of the bullet. Isabelle thinks…’ He hesitated as if deciding how much to reveal. ‘Well, it seemed to her Lucinda saw what Gabe was about to do. And she took the bullet. To save Nathaniel.’

Allie’s lips moved but no sound came out. She felt as if she was sinking. She couldn’t breathe.

Lucinda let herself die? She left me on purpose? 

She shook her head so hard her stitches stung. ‘No, Raj. Isabelle’s wrong. Lucinda wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t. Not for Nathaniel.’

He didn’t argue with her. ‘I find it hard to believe myself. I’m only offering it as a qualified explanation.’ He paused. ‘Allie, I’m not going to tell you what to do. But Isabelle is heartbroken about this – about everything. I wish you’d talk to her. Get her side of things.’

Allie’s expression hardened, but Raj didn’t back down. He lowered his head to catch her gaze. ‘Leaving Carter wasn’t Isabelle’s call. Carter knew what the drill was going in. He knew everything that could happen – every possible way it could go wrong. He was ready for this.’

She didn’t want to argue with him but cold anger was creeping back into her veins like ice water. She squeezed her hands into fists, waiting to speak until she had her emotions under control.

‘Where is he, Raj?’ she said, letting the earlier conversation drop. ‘Is he alive?’

He didn’t answer right away. When he spoke, his voice was low.

‘I wish I knew.’

T
he rest
of the day passed in a haze of exhaustion.

Allie went to the dining hall at lunch time to prove to the others how fine she was.

Completely fine.

As soon as she walked in the room, though, Katie Gilmore ran to her and wrapped her in an entirely unfamiliar hug.

‘Thank God you’re OK.’

After hating her for years, it felt weird being her friend. Not bad weird. Just… weird weird. And yet, Allie found herself hugging her back, clinging to Katie’s lean shoulders, her face buried in her long, red hair. She smelled of the world’s most expensive perfume.

‘It was awful,’ Allie heard herself whispering. And she wished she would stop.

How was anyone going to believe she was fine if she kept saying she wasn’t?

But Katie seemed to understand. Her beautiful face looked sombre – all of her arrogance stripped away.

‘I’m so sorry about Lucinda. I admired her so much.’ Katie’s voice was low; her words were meant for Allie alone. ‘She was a giant.’

Mention of her grandmother made Allie’s heart lurch.

Unlike Allie, Katie had grown up with Lucinda Meldrum – always head of Orion, always a tangible part of her life.

It would have been wonderful to grow up with Lucinda always there.

‘She was amazing,’ Allie agreed softly, ‘wasn’t she?’

The two exchanged a look of understanding. Then Katie cocked her head to one side and narrowed her gaze. ‘You should eat. You look like crap.’

And just like that the moment was over.

Lessons were cancelled, of course. And Night School. Having nothing to do felt like failure. If Allie hadn’t been so exhausted she would have run back to Raj and shouted at him. Demanded they all get back to work. Find Carter. Fix this.

But she didn’t. What good would it do? The truth was, they had lost. They were defeated. They’d failed.

Besides, the teachers were locked away somewhere having secret strategy meetings. She hadn’t seen any of them since she’d returned to the school. There was no one to shout at.

After lunch, the others succumbed one by one to the lack of sleep, disappearing to their rooms. But Allie refused to follow them.

The last time she’d slept she’d been lying in Carter’s arms in the safe house in London. The memory of that moment haunted her now.

She didn’t want to be in her room. Didn’t want to be alone.

She didn’t want to be safe when Carter wasn’t.

By late afternoon, though, she was punch-drunk with exhaustion. She hadn’t slept properly in two days.

She reeled through the tangle of hallways alone, trying to stay awake.

‘Someone to talk to,’ she muttered to herself as she turned into the common room. But it was empty, save for the cleaners, who were silently stacking used cups and plates on trays. The delicate clattering of the china echoed in the stillness.

She walked along the formal hallway as far as the classroom wing, where a cluster of marble statues kept watch. Then she turned and paced back again, fingers tracing the grooves of the carved panelling.

Eventually, she found herself standing outside the library, unable to remember exactly how she’d got there.

The door swung open with a soft sound, like an intake of breath.

This room was as familiar to Allie as her own bedroom. The long rows of tall bookcases with their tilted, rolling ladders. The dim, low light. It felt like refuge.

She walked in slowly – the high-ceilinged space felt hollow and empty. There was no sign of Eloise, the librarian. Or of any students or guards. The big metal light fixtures hanging from chains had been left on, as they always were. Green-shaded lamps glowed on every empty table.

Allie found herself walking slowly across the room. She was so tired her feet felt light. Like she was floating through the fiction section. Thick Persian carpets muffled her footsteps, adding to the sense of unreality.

Maybe she was asleep right now, and dreaming this whole thing.

When she reached the modern history section she turned. Her fingertips lightly brushed the gilded spines of the old books as she looked for one title. When she found what she sought, she slid it off the shelf and clutched it to her chest.

It was a heavy book with a leather cover. The title was Conquering the World.

Allie closed her eyes.

A month ago, she’d stood right here with Carter, bickering about their history assignment.

‘Here’s a good one,’ he’d said, handing her this book.

In science class she’d learned all objects constantly exchange electrons. If you sit in a chair long enough eventually the chair has all your electrons, and you have the chair’s.

Jerry Cole had taught her that.

She put her hands where Carter’s had been, trying to feel him in the book. Yet she could feel nothing beneath her fingertips but the hard, unyielding cover.

Allie gave a muffled sob.

Who knew where he was? She’d failed to keep him safe.

Failed to protect him.

I should have done something. But I lost him. 

Still holding the book in her arms, she slid slowly down to the floor and lowered her head to her knees.

Carter, please be alive. 

‘Allie Sheridan?’ The gruff voice was unfamiliar, dispassionate.

Allie blinked awake. The world had tilted sideways. Her cheek was pressed against the rough weave of an antique Persian rug.

Slowly she sat up and looked around blearily.

The library. 

She could only vaguely remember coming in here. She must have fallen asleep. She still cradled a book in her arms.

One of Raj’s guards stood at the end of the row, his expression inscrutable. ‘Isabelle le Fanult would like you to come to her office.’

‘She would, would she?’ Fully awake now, Allie rubbed the back of her hand across her gritty eyes. ‘Well, maybe I’m not interested in talking to her right now.’

The guard opened his mouth, then closed it again. Clearly he hadn’t expected that.

‘She said it was important?’ A touch of uncertainty had entered his voice.

It’s always important,
 
Allie wanted to snap at him.

But she didn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to take it out on him; this wasn’t his fault. She didn’t even know his name.

Heaving a sigh she waved him away. ‘Fine. I’ll go see her.’

Unable to disguise his relief, he gave a curt nod and left hurriedly, before she could change her mind.

Allie climbed to her feet – her muscles ached from last night’s fight and from sleeping on the hard floor.

Moving stiffly, she made her way out into the hallway. The windows were dark. Night had fallen while she slept. She’d been out for hours.

At the foot of the grand staircase she turned to where Isabelle’s office was tucked away, the door virtually hidden in the elaborately carved oak panelling. She paused and took a deep breath. When she felt steady enough, she tapped once.

‘Come in.’

The door swung open at Allie’s touch. The headmistress sat at her desk, a laptop open in front of her.

She glanced up briefly. ‘Please have a seat.’

Her expression gave nothing away.

Isabelle’s antique, mahogany desk dominated the small office. Two, deep leather chairs faced it; Allie sat on the edge of the closest one.

Isabelle typed with quick, sure movements, her gaze fixed on the screen. She’d changed out of her Night School gear into tailored dark trousers and a white silk blouse. A cardigan was draped across her shoulders. She didn’t look as pale as she had earlier. At first glance, in fact, she appeared almost… normal.

When the seconds ticked by and she kept typing, Allie knew a message was being sent. Isabelle was reminding her who was in charge.

As she waited, she glanced around the room. Everything was in its usual place – low cabinets lined one wall beneath a large, romantic tapestry of a knight and a maid with a white horse.

At last, Isabelle finished whatever she was doing. She closed the laptop with a decisive click and leaned back in her chair, fixing Allie with her fierce, leonine gaze.

‘Raj and Dom are working flat-out to find where Nathaniel has taken Carter,’ she said without preamble. ‘I wanted you to be the first to know that we believe he is alive.’

Something about the cool simplicity of that last sentence undid Allie. She pressed her palms against her eyes.

He’s alive. He’s alive… 

Isabelle waited for a moment before continuing. ‘Please believe this: we will get him back. And Nathaniel will pay for what happened last night. We will get through this. And we will start over.’

Her tone had turned ice cold and, to her own surprise, Allie found she did believe her.

They may have been beaten in London but one thing was clear: Isabelle wasn’t giving up. Not in the slightest.

The fight was still on.

Dropping her hands to her lap, Allie raised her gaze. ‘Where is he?’

‘We don’t know that yet, but we are monitoring Nathaniel’s conversations and that has given us reason to believe Carter and the two guards are being held somewhere outside London. I suspect Nathaniel wants to use them as a bargaining chip.’

She sounded furious. But Allie’s whole body felt lighter. As long as Carter was alive she could deal with anything.

This burst of optimism came hand-in-hand with instant guilt for the way she’d behaved towards Isabelle that morning. The cruel things she’d said came back to her in a flood.

Nathaniel was the enemy. Not her.

‘Look…’ she said hesitantly. ‘About what happened this morning —’

Isabelle’s hand snapped up, stopping her.

‘Please don’t,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t your fault. I handled it very badly.’

But Allie wasn’t about to accept that.

‘I was wrong,’ Allie said. ‘It was an awful night and horrible things happened but I know…’ She paused for a second before finishing. ‘I know you love him, too.’

Spots of colour had appeared in Isabelle’s cheeks – the only sign of the tidal wave of emotion Allie suspected she was suppressing.

‘Yes, I do love him,’ the headmistress said. ‘Very much. And, with your help, we’ll have him back. Will you fight with me, Allie? For Carter?’

Allie didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes.’

Isabelle stood and walked around the desk to sit in the chair next to hers. This close, Allie could see the strain in her face. Her eyes were red-rimmed, underscored by shadows. But her expression was determined.

‘Allie, there have been times when, perhaps, I didn’t appreciate that this was as much your fight as it is mine. When I assumed you were too young to be involved in running this… struggle with Nathaniel,’ she said. ‘I won’t make that mistake again. You are at the heart of this. You have a right to decide what happens in your own life. And you have a right to know what my plans are.’

She took a deep breath. ‘I’m leaving the Organisation. Leaving Cimmeria. And I’d like you to come with me.’

The news hit Allie like a punch in the stomach. She felt winded. Betrayed.

Abandoned.

Hot tears prickled the backs of her eyes. For a second, she couldn’t seem to make her mouth work. ‘You’re… you’re leaving?’

‘We have to, Allie,’ Isabelle said gently. ‘You and me. Raj… Everyone. Whatever happens next, we have to leave Cimmeria Academy. We can wait until Nathaniel throws us out, or we can simply go. We can walk out of here on our own. I intend to do the latter.’

The bottom had fallen out of Allie’s world.

Do I have to lose everything? 

She wanted to run out of this room and never come back. To sit in a dark corner somewhere and lick her wounds.

But she made herself stay.

‘I don’t understand.’ Her voice was thick with unshed tears. ‘Where will you go?’

Isabelle didn’t answer the question immediately. She ran her hand affectionately across the top of her polished, mahogany desk. Her face looked pensive.

‘Did I ever tell you I inherited this desk from my father?’

Puzzled by the turn the conversation had taken, Allie shook her head. She knew Isabelle and Nathaniel had the same father, different mothers. That they’d grown up together, and their father had left everything to Isabelle, even though Nathaniel was his eldest child.

But she knew little else about her family life.

‘He specified it in his will.’ Isabelle’s voice was soft. ‘It had been in his office as long as I could remember. It belonged to his father before him. He left it to me.’

She pressed her hands flat on the desktop, her eyes flashing with repressed anger.

‘I don’t want my half-brother to touch this desk. I cannot bear to think of him in my school.’ She lifted her hands. ‘But the simple truth is, he has won. And we have to start thinking about how we intend to lose.’

Too horrified and angry to be diplomatic, Allie raised her voice. ‘No, Isabelle. Don’t even say that. It’s not over. Not yet. We can’t give up. I won’t let you. Not after what he did. Not after Jo. Not after Carter.’

Putting those two names – those two fates – in the same sentence was hard. But they were being honest with each other now. And Isabelle had to know how she felt.

‘Oh my dear, how can you have so little faith in me?’ The headmistress leaned back in her chair, studying her with a melancholy half-smile. ‘If there’s one thing Lucinda and I have both tried and failed to teach you, it’s how to win by losing. I think you have no choice now, except to learn this painful lesson.’

‘I don’t even know what that means,’ Allie snapped. She wasn’t interested in word-play right now. She needed Isabelle to stop giving up.

‘Then let me explain it to you.’ The headmistress held her gaze steadily. ‘First, we will lose when we leave this school. I accept that. But what you don’t understand is, I’m not giving up. I’m starting over.’

Allie’s brow creased. ‘Starting over how?’

‘We will close Cimmeria Academy,’ the headmistress explained. ‘And open again with the same teachers, the same students, someplace else. Far away.’

Allie was stunned. ‘What? You want to move the school?’

‘Effectively… yes.’

‘But… how? Where would we go?’

‘We have a lot of support abroad, and there are many possible locations. There’s a lovely old school in the Swiss Alps. A beautiful place, high in the mountains. It was a Victorian finishing school.’ Isabelle glanced at her father’s desk. ‘I can see us there.’