Rain In My Heart (26 page)

Chapter Fifty One

              We lay on the steps, watching the debris drift in the black well of The Pit.  Eventually, I heard Byron groan and stir.  Marshall jumped up, went to grab him.  I tried to move, but my legs were so numb with cold I could
n’
t feel them.  My head felt thick, like it was full of damp cotton wool.  Seconds later, Marshall reappeared, holding Byron by the scruff of his neck.  Byron looked terrible.  The frames of his glasses had been bent out of shape and the lid of his left eye had swollen shut.  His face was pale, almost grey.  Marshall shoved him beside me.  He yelped as he was forced to bend his bad knee.

Guilt seeped into every pore. 

            
 ‘
Does it hurt
?’
I whispered.

              His gaze drifted, like he was in a trance.

‘
More I concentrate, less painful it becomes.  When a perso
n’
s mind is strong enough, Kate, they can turn pain into something else.  Pain is cold.  Pain is hot.  Pain is fuzzy.  Pain tingles.  But i
t’
s no longer pain
.
’ 

            
 
‘
Stop talking
,’
snapped Marshall.
 ‘
Stop bothering Kate.  She does
n’
t want to talk to you
.
’

              He wedged himself between Byron and I, put his arm back round my shoulders.  I squirmed with disgust, but did my best to disguise it.

            
 ‘
So, what are we going to do
?’
I said.

            
 ‘I’
m
thinking
,’
said Marshall
.‘
Do
n’
t pressure me
.
’

              Byron let out another howl. Clearly, his mind-control was
n’
t working. 

            
 ‘
He needs medical attention
,’
I said.              

‘
He needs to stop being a wimp
.’
             

            
 ‘
Please
,’
I said.
 ‘
The school nurs
e’
s office is just through that door.  Let me get him some decent bandages.  Maybe some pain killers
.
’

            
 ‘
No on
e’
s going anywhere
,’
said Marshall.

              He looked sulky now, like a toddler not getting its own way.  He was calm at least, but I knew things could change.  He could turn and pounce.  If Byron or I did or said the wrong thing, all he had to do was grab us.  

              I thought of Leon and what state
he
was in, but it was too upsetting.  It made me want to cry.  And quite frankly, this was
n’
t the time for crying.  So I tried to catch Byro
n’
s eye, to check he was still with me, hopeful that h
e’
d have a spark, an idea of how to overpower Marshall - but he was blank-eyed.  He looked defeated, like h
e’
d run out of energy.

              Marshall started whispering in my ear, silly comments and observations, things like: could I see that floating filing cupboard?  Or the holes in the ceiling?  Or the rats with the crisp packet?  It was as though we were having a picnic in a park, watching the world go by, not a care in the world.

              The reality, of course, was something else.

              The sewage water had now overrun the library and had begun to trickle down the steps towards us.  The water in The Pit had submerged the rows of lockers.   There was
n’
t a piece of furniture lef
t–
it had all floated into the link corridor.   And to make matters worse, one of the large cement columns supporting the balcony was showing signs of strain.  A massive crack had appeared down the middle.  It seemed bigger every time I looked.  I did
n’
t know whether to draw this to Marshal
l’
s attention or not.

              In the end, the choice was made for me.  With a shudder, part of the balcon
y’
s concrete floor collapsed.  A ton of rubble and dust came down on the water.  We jumpedto the side.  If w
e’
d been a few meters to the right, w
e’
d have been beneath it.

‘
I knew it
,’
said Byron.
 ‘
The building is giving up.  It ca
n’
t take the load.  Still, i
t’
s coped longer than expected.  In poor countries, floods of this scale wash entire villages away.  At least we have concrete on our side
.
’

              It was hardly the right thing to say, but in a way, I was pleased - he sounded more like his old self again.  Marshall scowled, coughed out the dust

‘
What are you saying?  That the ceilin
g’
s about to fall in
?
’

‘
Probably
.
’

              I though
t–
I
hoped
–
this would make Marshall panic.  I thought h
e’
d understand that we simply could
n’
t stay, that we needed to find a way out.  But instead he dug in.

‘
Fine
,’
he said.
 ‘
Then tha
t’
s how i
t’
ll be. 
I’
d rather die with Kate, than go outside and have her taken from me
.
’

He squeezed my shoulders, gave me a peck on the cheek.

I started to cry, but silently.

Chapter Fifty Two

              Hope comes in many forms.  Through my sorrow, through the glassy film of my tears, I saw a flicker of movement across the water.  Difficult to tell in the dark, but it looked like it was coming from the link corridor.  Then I heard sloshing, someone wading.  I did
n’
t say anything.  Marshall did
n’
t notice.  Subtly, I adjusted my position, sat up, watched the corridor, while pretending not to.  Moments later, a swaying figure loomed at the doorway and I knew straight away - Curtis!

              As soon as he saw me, he waved his arm.  He was about to call out. I had to act quickly.

‘
No
!’
I cried.

I thrashed, shook my head, raised my hand to halt him.  He got the signal.  God knows how, being Curtis, but he took the hint.  He stepped back into the shadows.

‘
What is it
?’
said Marshall, bearing down on me.
 ‘
Wha
t’
s wrong with you
?
’

‘I’
m jus
t
– just SO COLD.  I ca
n’
t bear it anymore
.
’

‘
You can take my coat then.  I do
n’
t want you suffering
.
’

As he said this, I had an idea.  I glanced at Byron, but his eyes were half closed.

            
 ‘
A coat is
n’
t enough
,’
I said. 
 ‘
I
t’
s not going to make a difference
.
’

              I lowered my eyelids, looked as weak as I could, which was
n’
t difficult.

            
 ‘I’
m sorry, Marshall,
I’
m not feeling good.  I - I think
I’
ve got hyperthermia
.
’

            
 ‘
Hyper
what
?
’

            
 ‘
Hyperthermia.  We learned about it in Biology.  I
t’
s when your body gets too cold and you shiver uncontrollably and everything shuts down, then eventually...it kills you.  Please. 
I’
m so,
so
cold.  I ca
n’
t stand it.  I do
n’
t want my last moments with you to be horrible
.
’

              Marshall looked at me, cocked his head.

            
 ‘
I love you so much
,’
I sniffed, throwing myself into my performance.
 ‘
W
e’
ve only just got back together.  If w
e’
re really going to die together, I want to die happy.  Not like this
.
’

              From the corner of my eye, I could see Byron snapping to attention. 

            
 ‘
I do
n’
t want to suffer
,’
I said.
 ‘
I want to be able to enjoy my last moments with you
.
’

            
 ‘
Do
n’
t stay that
!’
said Marshall, his face warped with panic
.‘
Stop it
!
’

            
 ‘
Maybe you could make me a fire
?
’
 
I whispered.
 ‘
Could you do that for me?  A fire to keep me warm?  You could get some dry books from the library.  The
y’
ll burn.  You might even find matches in the canteen
-
’

            
 ‘
Wher
e’
s the canteen
?
’

            
 ‘
Upstairs, through thedouble doors, all the way to the end
-
’

              He looked at me.

            
 ‘I’
m not leaving you. Byron can go
.
’

              Byron flopped forward, gave a pained sigh. Right on cue.  Clever Byron.

            
 ‘
H
e’
s too weak to go anywhere
,’
I pleaded.
 ‘
Look at him.  He can hardly sit up. 
Please
-
’

              Marshall deliberated for a second.  He stroked my hair and I could tell he was thinking, considering his dilemma.  Eventually, he stood up.

            
 ‘
Stay there
,’
he said.
 ‘
Do
n’
t move. 
I’
ll be straight back.  If you
move
- '

              Then he stumbled back up the steps to the library.  When he was out of sight, when I was certain he was gone, I clicked my fingers, gave a cough, did everything I could to beckon Curtis.

Chapter Fifty Three

            
 ‘
Try not to make any noise
,’
I whispered.

              Curtis splashed his way throughthe water.  I do
n’
t think he realised the danger we were in.  When he finally got to us, I grabbed him, hugged him. 

            
 ‘
Wahey
!’
he giggle
d–
still drunk.
 ‘
Did
n’
t know you felt that way, Kate
!
’

            
 ‘
She does
n’
t
,’
said Byron.
 ‘
Sh
e’
s relieved to see you, tha
t’
s all
.
’

              Curtis stared at him, scanned his array of bruises and cuts.                             

‘
Why are
you
still here?  Looks like yo
u’
ve been in a prize-figh
t…
and guess who the winner was
n’
t
?
’

‘
Keep your voice down
,’
I urged.
 ‘
We do
n’
t want him to know yo
u’
re here
.
’

            
 ‘
Do
n’
t want
who
to know
I’
m here
?’
said Curtis.
‘
The guy that was with you a minute ago?  I thought it was Leon
.
’

            
 ‘
I
t’
s not Leon.  I
t’
s my ex boyfriend, Marshall Finch
.
’

‘
As in
the
Marshall Finch
?’
said Curtis.
 ‘
The Bus Stop Brute? This is all screwed up, man!  I mean, I wake up, on top of a cupboard, with the hangover from hell, then I realise everyon
e’
s disappeared and
I’
m still stuck in this poxy drowning school and the whole place stinks of toilets!  Wha
t’
s going on?  Why are we hiding
?
’

              The way he was grinning, swaying slightly, he was definitely still inebriated.  At least h
e’
d be calmer for it.  Meanwhile, my own stress levels were off the scale.   

            
 ‘I’
ll explain later
,’
I urged.
 ‘
No time now.  Just understand that Marshall is bad.   He punched Byron in the head and left Gemma to drown in a locker.  H
e’
s trapped us in here and he does
n’
t care if we die. 
I’
ve managed to trick him intolooking for matches and stuff, but he wo
n’
t be long.  We need to leave.  The trouble is
,
’
–
I paused, caught up with mysel
f
–
‘
I do
n’
t have a clue where w
e’
re going to go
.
’

              Deep breath.  Think.  Think clearly. 

We had the whole school at our disposal, the parts of it that were
n’
t locked, collapsing, or underwater.  There had to be a way outthat did
n’
t involve ludicrous jumps and deadly river rapids.

            
 ‘
What about the sports hall
?’
I said.
 ‘
Do you think the sports hall willbe open
?
’

            
 ‘
I
t’
s a lake
,’
said Byron.

            
 ‘
Or the maths block, on the upper floor?  If we can find a ladder and get to a window
-
’

Byron shook his head.

‘
Nothing on the upper floor - I would
n’
t chance it
.
’

‘
KATY
!
’

Marshal
l’
s voice rang through the dark.  He was coming back.  We could hear him calling, but we could
n’
t see him.

            
 ‘
Hang in there, babe
!’
he hollered.
 ‘I’
m going to make a fire for you. 
I’
m going to get you warm
.’
             

            
 ‘
He sounds all right
,’
said Curtis, oblivious. 

            
 ‘
Believe me
,’
I whispered.
 ‘
H
e’
s anything
but
.
’

            
 ‘
KATE? 
KATY
!
’

              He was getting closer.  He had his torch with him.  As soon as he realised we were
n’
t on the steps where h
e’
d left us, we were in trouble.

            
 ‘
Quick
,
’ I whispered. 
 ‘
Where can we go?  Where we can hide
?
’

Curtis smiled, like he had all the time in the world.

‘
I
t’
s funny yo
u’
re talking about getting out
,’
he said
,‘
because I was about to do the same, then I thought
I’
d better check and see if anybody else was about.  Then I found the unlocked door and wanderedalong the corridor.  I nearly gave up, then I saw you two and mugger-boy
-
’

            
 ‘
We do
n’
t have time for stories
,’
I panicked.
 ‘
Think!  Where can we go
?
’

‘
Thing is
,’
said Curtis
,‘
you would
n’
t believe what woke me up from my doze...a fricki
n’
mobile classroom smashing into the side of the art room! Like something out of World War III! Crash!  Whole thing on its side, dragged by the floodwater!  No word of a lie!  When it hit,everything shook.  I
t’
s done damage.  I mean, Vis A is minus an entire wall.  What I thought, though, when I saw it, is that it makes a perfect stepping stone for getting onto the ridge.  You can just walk right out, across the roof
-
’

            
 ‘
Curtis
,’
I whispered, grabbing both his cheeks
.‘
I love you
!
’

            
 ‘
Huh?  You girls, man, you mess with my head
!
’