Underworld (2 page)

Mr Marks turned his attention to Axel. He grabbed him by the collar. ‘You'll be sorry, boy.'

Axel tried to struggle free. ‘No, you're the one who'll
be sorry, sir. I'll no' forget this.'

Liam was shaking with anger as Marks dragged Axel off to see the headmaster. People around were still sniggering at him.

He had no intention of forgetting this either.

Liam never forgot anything.

Zesh and Rick walked home together, laughing about the school trip that was planned to one of the wild islands off the west coast of Scotland. Mr Marks would be in charge and both boys were looking forward to it.

‘If we get picked,' Rick reminded him. ‘They did warn us the numbers were limited.'

‘If we get picked? Are you joking? We'll get. No problem about that. It'll be great to get away from this place. This school, some of the scum here.'

Rick gave him a punch. ‘Honest, Zesh, sometimes you talk like such a snob.'

‘I am a snob. I admit it.'

‘And don't we all know it,' someone drawled from a doorway as they passed. It was the unmistakable voice of Fiona Duncan, trying to light a cigarette. ‘You two really think you are something. Know what I think? You act like that because deep down you've got an
inferiority complex. I read about it in a magazine.' She spat out her chewing gum and held out her cigarette. ‘Any of you two got a light?'

Zesh shook his head. ‘No, we don't have a light, and we don't approve of smoking.'

‘Oh, I might have known. Friends of the Earth here don't approve.'

‘You'll end up with lines on your face, black teeth and a deadly disease. Do you know that?'

Fiona laughed loudly. ‘So will you, Zesh pal. It's called old age. But I intend to enjoy myself till that time comes. OK? You two are so boring. You never do anything wrong.'

‘You make up for us.'

‘Somebody has to,' she called after them as they hurried off.

She put the cigarette back in the packet. She didn't want to go home. Didn't want to face the music. Mr Marks would have contacted her mum by now. She would have to handle the overreaction, the screaming, the shouting, the threats … at least till her mum's favourite soap came on.

But, look on the bright side, at least she would get a light off her mother.

Axel shuffled into the school next morning. This wasn't where he wanted to be – in fact, he'd prefer to be anywhere but here. He swung his bag and aimed it at Liam's head. Liam ducked just in time. He swung round and grinned. ‘How are you, big guy?'

‘Sick,' Axel said. ‘Sick of this dump. Hey, here comes the fat bird.'

Angie saw them, looked around for an escape, but there was nowhere else to go. Axel spread himself in front of her like Jabba the Hutt and barred her way. ‘You give whales a bad name, know that?' he said, ignoring her blush.

She tried to sidestep him but he moved to stop her.

‘Oh come on, Angie, I just want to chew the fat with you.' He glanced at Liam and laughed. ‘And there's sure a lot of fat on you to chew.'

‘I'll tell on you,' Angie said, her voice trembling.

That made Axel laugh even louder. ‘Oh, I am so scared. Hear that, Liam? The fat bird's going to tell on me.'

Liam didn't say anything. He grinned back, but he looked uncomfortable. Axel darted to the side to stop Angie trying to pass him. She looked scared now. Her puffy cheeks were red and there was sweat breaking out on her upper lip.

‘Just let me go,' she said.

‘Just let me go …' Axel mimicked her voice, tremor and all.

Suddenly, there was another voice behind him.

‘Let her pass.'

Axel spun round. Zesh stood there, his face grim. Angie smiled at him gratefully, then she was past Axel and bouncing off down the corridor.

‘Oh look, it's the knight in shining armour – well, in spotless school uniform anyway.'

‘Why are you always such a moron, O'Rourke?'

Axel stood straight. ‘What did you call me?'

‘You heard,' Zesh said. He didn't want a confrontation. He had done what he set out to do, help the new girl. He was a prefect, and anyway, no one else was going to do it. Now, he just wanted to move on to his class.

Axel was having none of that. He stood in front of Zesh, defiant, challenging. The last thing Zesh wanted was a fight. He didn't fight, not ever.

He made a move to step away from Axel, didn't see him swing his bag and bring it down on his head. Zesh's legs buckled under him. Axel didn't give him a second to recover. He threw himself on top of him and Zesh went down. Axel grabbed his hair and pulled his head back so roughly that Zesh let out a cry. Axel was ready to squash his face on the floor. Zesh struggled, managed to grab Axel's hand and bit his fingers into his flesh. Axel relaxed his grip, just enough for Zesh to squirm free and turn himself round, bringing his fist up and into Axel's face.

Liam was trying to step back, wanting none of this. A crowd was gathering, cheering them on. Some for one, some for the other. In spite of Axel's reputation hardly anyone wanted to see Zesh win. Zesh won at everything. Always. Saw it as his right.

The two boys rolled together along the corridor. Their grunts were the only sound they made. It was the others cheering that alerted the teacher. Mr Marks suddenly burst round the corner. So angry his eyes were wide. ‘Stop this! Stop this right now!'

The crowd scattered. Liam stepped quietly into the boys' toilet, unnoticed. The two boys, still locked together, ignored the teacher. He dragged them to their feet by the collar.

‘I will not put up with this. Both of you are on a reprimand.'

He let Zesh go, but kept a firm hold of Axel's shirt. Zesh looked pale and his voice was husky and breathless. ‘That's not fair, sir. He started it.'

Mr Marks screamed at him, his anger taking Zesh by surprise. ‘I'm not interested in what's fair. There will be no fighting in this school.'

Axel struggled to be free of his grip but Mr Marks wouldn't let him go. ‘Think you're smart, don't you, O'Rourke. Told me I'd be sorry, didn't you. You didn't waste any time.'

Axel wasn't listening. ‘Let me go!' he yelled, but Mr Marks held firm.

‘You're not getting away with this, O'Rourke.' He looked at Zesh, saw for the first time the real pallor in his face. ‘What's wrong with you, Zesh?'

Zesh shook his head. ‘Not used to fighting, sir.' He was breathing hard. ‘Can I go to the toilet, sir?'

Mr Marks hesitated. Then he nodded. ‘Back here in
five minutes. You're both going to the headmaster.' He glared at Axel. ‘Maybe you should just move into his office, O'Rourke, you spend so much time there.'

Zesh stumbled into the toilet, pushed the door closed. He checked out the cubicles one by one, looking under the doors to see if there were any feet visible.

Thankfully, there was no one there. He fell against the sink, his breath coming in wheezing gasps. With every second it was getting harder for him to breathe. He searched frantically through his pockets for his inhaler, desperate to find it. He never left home without it, his mother would never let him. Just in case. He needed it so seldom now, but he wasn't used to fighting. In his panic he was sure it wasn't there today. He didn't want anyone to know about his asthma. Rick was the only one who knew. Where was it!

Suddenly, he felt it in his pocket, grabbed for it, pulled it out so sharply that it slipped from his grasp, hit the tiles and rolled into one of the cubicles. Zesh let out a moan, got down on his knees. He wanted to breathe so badly he was almost ready to cry. Where had it gone? He saw it had come to rest, hitting against the bowl. Normally, Zesh wouldn't touch anything from the floor of
these toilets, but he was desperate. That inhaler was life.

He crawled across the floor, lay flat, too breathless to stand, and stretched his arm under the door for the inhaler. He gripped it as if he was afraid it would suddenly leap from his fingers. He sat up, leaning against the door, and puffed it into his mouth. He breathed deeply, as deeply as he could. Waited a moment, then breathed again. Immediately, he felt his lungs open up. It was like some miracle. He took in the air gratefully. It always seemed to him like a miracle. From no breath, to life, and just because of this little piece of plastic. He breathed again deeply, and then got to his feet. Now he was ready to face anything.

Just in time. Mr Marks pushed open the door as Zesh slipped the inhaler back into his pocket. ‘Ready, Zesh?' he asked.

Zesh splashed his face with water. ‘Ready, sir,' he answered and he followed the teacher out the door.

There was quiet in the boys' toilets, but only for a moment. Only until one of the cubicle doors opened, and Liam jumped to the ground. He was sure he must be sussed when the inhaler had rolled into the cubicle he was in, but it was only Zesh's arm that had appeared,
snatching desperately, and he hadn't even noticed Liam perched on the seat like a vulture.

Liam liked knowing things about people. Things no one else did.

And now he knew Mr Perfect Zesh had a weakness. He had asthma.

‘Let me go!' Axel was still struggling wildly as he was dragged up the long corridor to the headmaster's office. Mr Marks was saying nothing, but his face was grim. Zesh had to quicken his pace to keep up with him, and even he was wondering about the anger on the teacher's face. Just because he'd caught them fighting?

‘You're hurting me!' Axel made one more futile attempt to free himself. ‘I could have you for this.'

‘Report me then.' Mr Mark's voice was flat and harsh. When he reached the headmaster's door he almost threw Axel inside.

‘What's your problem?' Axel began pulling his jumper back into shape and was taken aback by the vehemence of the teacher's anwer to that.

‘What's
my
problem?' He exploded. ‘Where were you last night, O'Rourke?'

‘None of your business …
sir
,' he added sarcastically.

Mr Marks just stared at him. ‘Oh, I think it's completely my business. You'd better have an alibi for last night, boy.'

I might as well not be here, Zesh thought. It's as if they're here on their own. I could sneak out and not be missed. He wouldn't do that, of course. That wasn't his way. Stand up and face the music, that was his way. He wondered what his father would say if he learned that Zesh had got into trouble. He'd be surprised, and angry too. ‘Letting the side down, Zeshan,' he could almost hear him say.

Then, an even more horrifying thought rushed at Zesh. What if this spoiled his chances of being chosen for the school trip?

He was so caught up with his own thoughts he almost missed what Axel was saying, until he finally shouted, ‘Somebody slashed your tyres, sir?' His voice was triumphant. ‘Good for them!'

Mr Marks glared at him. ‘As I say, you'd better have an alibi.'

‘You should keep your car in a garage, sir. It would be safer.'

‘You obviously know I don't.'

Axel's eyes flashed. ‘I know nothing. I'm not getting
the blame for this. I get the blame for everything.'

Mr Marks moved his face so close to Axel's that Zesh thought he was about to head-butt him. Way too close. He could see the anger still in the teacher's face. He was inches – seconds – away from losing it completely, and ruining his whole career.

‘I'll not let you squirm your way out of this one.'

Zesh saw Mr Marks's knuckles tighten on the shoulder of Axel's jacket. He could see exactly what the teacher really wanted to do. Lift Axel off the ground. Probably throw him through a window. For a second, Zesh was almost sure he would. He was a powerful man, Mr Marks.

‘Sir!' Zesh shouted, wanting to break the tension. ‘The headmaster will be in assembly now. He won't be back in the office for ages.'

Axel finally managed to pull away. ‘You're a head case. Sir!'

Mr Marks took a step back, just realising what he had almost done. He seemed to shake himself, as if he was coming out of a dream. ‘OK, both of you go. For now!' He fastened his eyes once more on Axel. ‘But you haven't heard the last of this.'

‘Slash his tyres? Did you?' Zesh asked as he and Axel
burst from the office.

‘Me? Wish I had thought of it.' Axel jumped and punched his fist in the air. Zesh watched him as he ran off, watched him and wondered. You never knew with Axel.

‘Axel? Where did he get a name like that?' someone asked Fiona.

‘It's short for axe murderer,' she said without a moment's hesitation. ‘That's his chosen weapon of mass destruction. Or it will be when he figures out which end is which.'

She laughed loudly, so did everyone else. They had all been speculating about whether Axel was the culprit. The consensus was that he must be. Guilty until proven guilty. It would be too much of a coincidence that some random vandal had chosen last night to slash Mr Marks's tyres, the same day that Axel had threatened the teacher. No, despite his protests, and they were given with a snigger – almost as if he enjoyed being a suspect – everyone took it for granted that Axel was the guilty one. Fiona wasn't so sure. She couldn't say why. It was a feeling. ‘Women's intuition.' Ha! That was a joke. She didn't believe in all that hokum.

They were being herded into the assembly hall, herded being the operative word, Fiona thought grimly. She was almost waiting for one of the teachers to produce a lasso and rope them in.

She caught the fat girl, Angie, staring at her. When their eyes met, Angie beamed a smile. She was remembering how Fiona had stuck up for her in PE, and then helped her wash all that disgusting spittle out of her hair.

Oh, goodness, she thinks we're going to be zonking friends now. Fiona half smiled back, and then turned and pushed her way against the crowd, away from Angie. She could see the girl's disappointment. Didn't care. Come on, she thought, me and Moby Dick? Friends? That would definitely ruin her image.