School for Vampires

by Quinn Conlan

  I find myself not straying far from my own wing. The Seniors pretty much barricade themselves in theirs. I take long baths. I stay close to the silver dress, so kindly lent to me. Jason has reopened his men’s club, and all the Junior Luthers boys take refuge inside.

  The mingling rules have been put to rest, yet most people stay close to what they know. Occasionally, I wander down the tunnel to the Commons, to see Garret. We hardly speak. Just hold each other.

  There is much to process. The fact that we’ve lost one of our own. That it was the star of the school. A smart, beautiful, happy girl, on the verge of womanhood, and the brightest of futures. My friend. My hero.

  There is the image of her body, lying grey and sapped of life beside the train tracks. Her face, stripped of all its beauty and joy, and taken by death. Images, all of them. For now, only images. It’s all we can manage.

  Briefly, the teachers come. Mr Morrison and Miss Montgomery arrive by train and work their way through the Dorms. They don’t say much. They put their arms around those who want it. They sit in silence with those who can bear no words. Mr Morrison offers pills to us all. They are briefly let in to the Seniors wing in our House and I hear the first, full sounds since it happened. Deep sobs. Confused sobs. Angry sobs.

  The five-day break is much needed. There are no intrusions, no trips to be made, nothing to be studied. There is only the silent river that wants to flow.

  Two nights after the discovery, there is the brief sound of construction in the Commons. Some of us go down and see a wooden wall that has been placed over the entrance to the train tunnel. It looks thick. Not long after, a bright blue light shines through the cracks in this wall. It’s a brief, powerful flash. It’s immediately followed by screams. The wall absorbs much of it, but still, it is clear they are screams of sheer agony. And then there is silence once more.

  On the sixth night, it’s time to return to school. We don’t say much, but I think many of us are glad for a little movement. The wooden wall is taken down. Travelling through the tunnel is the hardest thing. We all know the spot. We all stay close to one another in silence. Always in silence.

  It’s a shock seeing the Square. Hearing the noise. It’s suddenly as if nothing happened. Time has begun once more. We assemble in the gym, silently filling the stand. The familiar row of teachers greets us. They look up into our faces. Nothing is said, just silence. And then, finally, Mr Foggarty ambles to the lectern and puts the first words to our pain.

  “Students. We have lost one of our own. You have lost one of your own.” His voice has been stripped of its jolliness. “It is mighty hard to comprehend. The tragic death of someone so young and with such a bright future.” Students begin to cry. Not the deep sobs of before, but quiet tears, as words return to them. “There is much to say. And yet there is so little one can say at a time like this. That Kate was loved by so many is beyond dispute. That she was destined for greatness in the wider community is without doubt. Students, I do not want to burden you with details. I wish only that you be allowed to grieve. But for those of you who feel you need something tangible, I can tell you that much has already been done. Kate has already been cremated and laid to rest, in accordance with vampire law. The Council has taken the matter extremely seriously. They have sent Division Guards down and they were here for several nights, gathering evidence. Upon completion of that investigation, it was concluded that a member of the candle-keeping community was responsible for Kate’s death.” There are gasps upon hearing this. I too am shocked. “As such, the appropriate punishment was tabled and enacted. Beyond these bare facts, my dear students, there is little I can tell you. It is a senseless death. A cruel death. A death that has been avenged as best as possible. And yet, it is a death that we will never get over.” Mr Foggarty walks slowly back to the chairs. Students begin to chatter. The talk is immediately of the tunnel dwellers. I think about the hastily erected tunnel barricade and the flash of bright blue light. Their punishment.

  The school decides it’s best for everyone if we get back to our normal routines. Once assembly has finished, we all receive our second semester timetables and head for our first class. It feels so strange to get back in the swing of things, although not entirely wrong.

  I have Skill Sets. I’m glad. I intend to talk to Lily after class. Now that the intensity of the first wave of grief has begun to settle, and now that I’ve heard words put to the events, I find my questioning mind returning to me. With a vengeance.

  For the first time, Lily isn’t the picture of detached calmness. It’s a shock to the class, and even to me, who knows another side to her. She is shaken. She has lost touch with that steadfast ability to smile and be measured at all costs. It throws us all. She doesn’t say very much. I get the feeling she’s on the verge of tears for most of the lesson. She tries her best to talk about other things – last term’s results, her intentions for this coming term. But the things that aren’t said, and her barely concealed tears, hang in the air for the entire lesson.

  I don’t even bother with a made up excuse. When class is over, I just simply walk up to Lily and wait to talk. Students don’t even notice. They’re too lost in their own grief and confusion. Lily seems reluctant to see me. Very reluctant. But she doesn’t send me away.

  When we are alone, there is no subtle nod of the head in the direction of the storeroom. We talk in the open this time. I stare at Lily and I see how much she’s still trying to suppress her tears. She looks frightened and bereft.

  “Blake, there’s not much I can tell you. It’s a difficult time.”

  “I know. I just wanted to touch base Lily. I’m guessing you and Kate were close?” A lone tear falls across Lily’s face. Her lips tremble for a moment.

  “Yes,” is all she manages to say.

  “I’m sorry Lily. It’s just so crazy. And I don’t understand what Mr Foggarty said about what happened. The tunnel dwellers, it just doesn’t make sense.” Lily wipes away the tear and composes herself. Her voice is now a little frantic.

  “Blake, now is not the time. Trust me. You just have to let things lie for a while.” I’m suddenly annoyed. Perhaps I have no right to be. Perhaps it’s unfair, given how upset Lily is. But I run with it all the same.

  “Why? Why not now? When it’s still fresh? Something awful happened to Kate and it wasn’t the tunnel dwellers who did it.” Lily says nothing but I swear the look on her face confirms my words. She tries again to give me the ‘let it lie’ speech, but I’m having none of it.

  “Something terrible has happened and the wrong people have been punished. And if we don’t do something about it now, then it’s never going to happen. You’re always telling me to wait, leave things til down the track. Someone innocent and amazing is dead Lily…”

  “I know that! Don’t you think I know that?! She meant the world to me Blake. She was my best student. I trained her for two solid years. I adored her.”

  “So what are you gonna do about it?! Just let her death be swept under the rug? Act like she meant nothing to you?” Lily slaps my face. Immediately, she gasps in horror and puts her hand to her mouth. Fresh tears well in her eyes. The slap hurts, and catches me off guard. But, as weird as it sounds, it also emboldens me. I turn back to face her.

  “I’m sorry she’s dead Lily. I’m sorry you’ve lost someone so amazing. She was my friend too. She was my hero. But if someone doesn’t start digging now, right now, then too many weeds will grow over the grave.” I don’t quite know where those words come from, but I know I mean them. They sound like a vampire bumper sticker. Lily is still thrown by her reaction. Suddenly I know that she isn’t going to be the one to help me. Not now. I apologize to her and tell her I’ll see her tomorrow. She continues to stand there with her hand to her mouth, and sorrow and confusion in her eyes. I walk out and go in search of a Plan B.

  Chapter Twenty

  Wanting to get to the bottom of things feels like the next stage of my grief. It’s just as important as the stages that
have preceded it. Suddenly, it is a time for action. Kate’s death has implications for all of us. I have no idea why she was murdered, but I do know that whatever else it is, it’s a statement to the rest of us students. It tells us this could happen to any one of us.

  It seems I’m not alone in having moved onto a desire to find out the truth. I head to my locker after Lily’s class and I see Jason on the approach. As he walks past, he leans in close to me and says, “this is bull dust.” Then he keeps walking. I immediately know he too hasn’t bought Mr Foggarty’s story, and that he too feels a sense of injustice. I’m glad I’m not the only one.

  The rest of that first day back is an awkward attempt by the teachers to move on with the syllabus. I see a lot of fear in their eyes. I see sorrow in Miss Montgomery’s. Mr Morrison is his usual out of it self, only now tinged with reflection about the fragility of life. I’m so irritated by the teachers, that by school’s end, I’m positively angry. It’s time to go find Jason.

  I may not know the secret knock, but I knock all the same. The men’s club door opens and Derek, one of Jason’s sidekicks, looks me up and down like I’m an alien. “Can I help you?” he says.

  “Oh for god sake Derek. Is Jason here?” I haven’t got time to stand on the tenuous traditions of a glorified cupboard. Derek tries to keep that tradition alive. He looks witheringly at me.

  “He’s indisposed.” I push the door open and see Jason smoking a joint in the corner. He looks up and sees me. He must get a good read of my intentions, because he leaps up and asks the rest of the rat pack to leave us alone. They oblige, but let me know with their scornful stares that they’re not happy about it. I couldn’t care less at this point.

  They close the door behind them and Jason frantically puts out the joint. He tries to waft the smoke with his hand before realizing there’s nowhere for it to go. We stare at each other through the haze. “What do you know?” I ask. I’m tired of beating around the bush down here.

  “Nothing Blake. Just that it’s all lies. The things Mr Foggarty said, I just know he’s full of it. What do you know?”

  “I know that the teachers are scared. I know that a cover up has gone on. I know that the tunnel dwellers didn’t do this.” It’s weird, but I already feel like I’m talking to someone who I don’t have to explain myself to. His face says he’s on the same page. “I know that Kate didn’t deserve to die,” I go on. “And I know that I’m gonna get to the bottom of it, whatever it takes.” As I say these words, I realize just how much I mean them. Jason must see it too.

  “I’m with you Blake. They call all the shots down here. They tell us when to sit and when to stand. And then they snatch one of us, kill her and make someone else take the fall. It’s a complete crock.” There is passion in Jason’s voice. I’m glad for it. I feel relieved that I don’t have to go it alone. “So what do we do?” he asks. It’s a good question. I hadn’t really got that far yet.

  “I don’t know,” I say, “but we have to do something.”

  We agree to think on it for a while and just keep our eyes peeled in the meantime. Maybe a clue will reveal itself. Briefly, my mind turns to Vincent. I wonder if he can help? But something inside me shies from it, reminding me that despite the fact he saved my life, I don’t know him at all. Better to keep this in house.

  I wander down to the Mess. I see the Seniors milling about. It’s the first night they’re not holed up in their room. I see Tamara sitting on the rug with some others. She briefly looks up at me. Her face is blank. I try to show her my concern and sympathy, but she just returns to her group. I look across at the tunnel leading to the Seniors wing. Suddenly, I have an idea.

  I go back to my own room and grab the silver dress, which has been hanging from a tree root near my coffin. I head to the Mess and weave through the Seniors spread out across the floor. I’m bound for their bedroom. I try to show them that I’m returning Kate’s dress. They barely look up.

  I head through the tunnel and when I arrive, the Seniors wing is empty. It’s as lovely and lived-in as it was the first day Kate showed it to me. I head for the powder room and return the dress to the hanger. I run my hand across all the lovely clothes and sadness grips me once more. I feel so terrible for Kate.

  I look around the powder room. I see the make up on the dresser. I suddenly think of my secret sock. What if Kate had her own secret sock? I close the powder room door and start looking around for a hiding place. I shift the dresser and check for something buried. I dig in and out of all the clothes on the rack, feeling for something heavy. Nothing reveals itself. I go back into the bedroom and look around. I open all the drawers and rummage through them. I figure if someone comes I can just say I was returning something Kate lent me. I look up and see the coffins. The floors are hanging down about an inch. The Seniors know the value of giving them a little air. I find Kate’s coffin, remembering it’s the one with an image of Twin Sisters Mountain painted on the bottom. It’s where she came from. She said she knew that mountain better than anyone. It’s a risk, but I want to see inside her coffin.

  I slowly wind the winch, constantly peering at the tunnel entrance for signs of company. No one comes, and when the coffin floor is low enough to climb in, I grab the stepladder and hoist myself up. It’s a very strange feeling, being in someone else’s coffin. Even stranger when it’s someone who’s just died. I picture Kate lying in this exact spot. I almost feel her presence in this little box. I realize I don’t want to stay up here. I don’t belong.

  With the candlelight that comes from the room below, I can see most of the coffin. It’s as plain and uneventful as mine. As I look at the panels of wood on the lid, something catches my eye. There is a split in the wood that doesn’t follow the grain. It looks man made. I put my fingers to it and realize there is a sort of mini trap door. I pull the hand-made lid down. It only falls an inch but it reveals a secret pocket. A jewelry bag suddenly falls down. I catch it and immediately stash it under my top. I push the little lid back up, jump down from the coffin, wind the floors back to where they were, and make my way down the tunnel.

  The Juniors bathroom provides the privacy I need. I open the jewelry bag and tip the contents onto the floor. I see a key. I see three fully loaded blood darts. And I see a piece of paper with an address on it. It’s a New York address. I realize don’t know the city at all. I also realize I’ve found something very important. The horn suddenly blows for coffins up. I put everything back in the bag and decide to bury it next to my sock until I can figure out what to do next.

  During the following free time at school, I know I need to speak to Jason. Since the end of last semester, when he and Kate broke it off, he’s well and truly drifted back to his self-styled rat pack. I’m anticipating personalized leather jackets any day now. As I step out onto the oval, I look across and see Kit and Abner at our usual spot. They’re beckoning me to join them. I see that the football has resumed. I’m glad for it. Garret is lost in a huddle. I see the Seniors, sitting by the gym windows. They still look shocked and in disarray. I search for Jason. I spot him rat packing it further along the oval.

  When I approach his gang, I get the usual disapproving looks from the sidekicks. Jason sees me and immediately gets up. We take a walk along the oval edge.

  I tell him what I’ve found. Since our smoky men’s club chat, I’ve decided to be honest all the way. I’m tired of having to keep things from the people around me. Plus, I know that if I’m to get to the bottom of Kate’s murder, I can’t go it alone.

  Jason is excited to hear of my discovery. I’m glad he’s still so keen. We have no way of knowing what the key is for, but the address is rock solid. Luckily, Jason knows New York. When I tell him, hoping I’ve remembered it right, his face lights up. “That’s right near the cemetery Blake.”

  As soon as he says it, I know we both have the same thought. We’re going on an excursion. The follow up thought is also in unison. We need to speak to Carter.

  As we glance around the ova
l, looking for the great procurer, I realize that Garret is staring straight at us. At me. He looks unhappy. I suddenly feel bad. I want to go over and explain. But he doesn’t give me a chance, returning to his huddle. I make a mental note to go find him later.

  Right now though, it’s Carter I need. Jason finally spots him, up on the badminton court. He’s sitting in the umpire’s chair, all alone. We make our way over.

  He looks depressed. He’s just sitting there in his lonely high chair, staring into the distance. For a moment I smile, thinking what a perfect umpire he’d make for misfits badminton. He doesn’t even realize we’re there, and Jason has to call his name a few times, til he snaps out of whatever is holding him.

  When he looks down and sees us, he seems completely indifferent. This isn’t the Carter we’re used to. He’s meant to be the fast talking entrepreneur. The great getter of things. The man with all the secrets. It’s quite strange, with the two of us down on the ground and Carter up high, but we try our best.

  “Carter,” I say, “we need to talk.” He has resumed his blank stare into the distance.

  “Go away Juniors. I’m not swapping pills for cheap knock off bracelets or joints today.” He seems totally despondent. It’s surely over Kate. It suddenly occurs to me that maybe Carter had feelings for Kate. He wouldn’t be lonely on that front. I saw the way most boys looked at her. I realize I have to tread carefully. We need Carter’s help to get up top. But I definitely don’t want Carter coming with us. He’s too unknown. Plus, if he had strong feelings for Kate, he’ll end up being a liability. I’m hoping Jason is having at least vaguely similar thoughts, but in case he’s not, I decide to be the proactive one.