‘Gemma?’he called. ‘Gem? Are you down here?’
The water sloshed. Greg's voice echoed. The candlelight flickered on the ceiling.
‘GEMMA?’we shouted, in unison.
There was no reply. And no indication of any leg-cutting monster - of course there wasn’t. The stairwell was only a few meters wide, just wall, floor, steps, and a handrail. The door to the link corridor looked shut, locked. The only way out was though the open font door. Greg waded deeper into the water and peered outside.
‘It’s all black,’he whispered, dismayed.
He came back up the stairs, shaking his head. We returned to the main room, where Curtis was emptying boxes, upturning recycling bins.
‘So, where is she?’Greg urged, close to tears. ‘She can’t just vanish.’
It was an odd sight - this tall, sturdy Goth guy shaking with emotion, frail as a cobweb. I don’t have a problem with men crying, but Greg just wasn’t the type.
‘Do you think she might have left?’said Leon. ‘She kept going on about wanting to get out. Maybe she got bored of waiting? We were arguing about it for so long - '
Greg shook his head.
‘She wouldn’t,’he said. ‘She wouldn’t go without me.’
He was right.
But what he didn’t know was that Gemma had left Molly.
The guilt slammed into me. Maybe that was it? Gemma had had enough of waiting, enough of arguing with Byron, enough of stressing about the whereabouts of her little sister, so she'd gone, gone to find her - without having to confess to Greg.
‘Maybe she did a runner through the broken window when no one was looking?’said Curtis.
We all glanced at the window. The exit was tiny.
‘But why would she go alone and so suddenly?’said Byron, ponderously, as if trying to solve a difficult maths equation.
‘I mean,’ he added, adjusting the bandage on his knee,‘she knew you all wanted to go with her -’
Greg spun round.
‘What do youknow?’he said.
This time, I wondered if the suspicion was justified. Something about Byron’s demeanour wasn't right. While everyone else was panicking, he was completely calm.
Greg snapped. He lunged towards Byron. Byron held his hands up.
‘I’m afraid I don’t know any more about Gemma’s absence than you do,’ he said.
But it was too late.
Greg squared up to him, his lanky black fringe flopping in his face. He was two foot taller than Byron and twice as broad. He jabbed his index finger in Byron’s face and spoke with quiet, stern intensity.
‘For the sheer fact that your leg is mashed and you were lying on the ground around the time she disappeared, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. But have it known, lurk-boy, that I’m on to you. When we get out of here, I'm going to get to the bottom of every little trick you've pulled. And when I do, you're going to regret the day you were born.'
Then he stepped away.
‘Well said,’crowed Curtis, patting Greg on the back. ‘Properly put him in his place. And don’t stress. Gemma’s probably gone for a wee or something. You know what girls are like. Obsessed about privacy.’
Leon glanced at his watch.
‘For half an hour? That’s some wee! Maybe she went looking for something to eat?’
‘No,’I said.
I realised it was time to speak up, before things got out of hand.
‘She’s gone.’
Everyone looked at me.
‘I don’t know how she’s done it,’I said,‘but she’s managed to get out.’
‘Not on her own,’Greg protested.‘Not without telling me. She wouldn’t.’
I looked down at my feet, felt the guilt wash over me.
‘She was more desperate than you realise,’I whispered.‘Sorry Greg, I'm afraid there's something she didn’t tell you. She was scared you'd be angry with her -’
‘What?’
I took a breath and explained the situation with Molly. When I finished, Greg sat back and pummelled his temples. He looked wired and exhausted at the same time.
‘I knewthere was something going on,’he said. ‘Why didn't she tellme? I might have been annoyed with her, but just to leave and avoid the issue entirely? She couldn’t…she wouldn’t…there’s no way she’ll get through the water. She knows that. Her swimming is rubbish.’
As we listened to Greg, the bleak reality seeped to the surface. Gemma on her own, surviving the current, escaping the flood, clambering up muddy hills - it didn’t seem likely. She was tough in attitude, but not physically. She hated sports. She always bunked PE. Every week at swimming class, she miraculously had her period.
Leon came over, squeezed Greg’s shoulder.
‘Sorry, mate,’he said solemnly. ‘Maybe she’s okay, though? Maybe the current has eased off now? It hasn’t rained for a while.’
‘I’m sure she’ll let us know,’I said.
‘How?’said Curtis.‘With morse code?’
‘She’ll phone. She’ll phone as soon as she’s safe. And then she’ll get help for the rest of us.’
Then I remembered. No phones.
Chapter Thirty One
Leon and Curtis tried their best to reassure Greg, but I hung back. I didn’t know what else to say. For one who was known for having a positive and forgiving outlook, I was struggling. The guilt and confusion was draining me. The nightmare of our predicament seemed close, too close.
Byron sidled up. Silently, I wished him away.
‘Another mystery,’he said. ‘First the phones, now Gemma - '
I bristled.
'So what is it?’I said. ‘What's going on?’
‘I don’t want to say what I think, Kate. The more I say, the more chance I'll be blamed. And I don’t want to be blamed for this. Not by Greg. Look at him. He’sbeyond reason. Without‘Gremma’,he's scared. And when people get scared they become unpredictable.’
It was true. Greg had worked himself into a state. From the corner of my eye, I could see him crashing around the art room, crying Gemma’s name. Leon and Curtis were trying to reassure to him, but it didn’t make a difference. He was desperate.
‘Just his way of dealing with it,’I said protectively. ‘You know he's been through a hard time, losing his mum and everything. Even though they have their ups and downs, he and Gemma are, like, soul mates.'
‘You reckon?' said Byron.
'Yes, I do.'
'You really believe people have soul mates?'
He paused for a moment, then looked at me.
‘So what kind of‘soul mate’ leaves her eight-year old sister alone for a day, buys the girl off with pocket money, just so she can grope a giant in an empty school?’
‘You can’t say that!’I argued. ‘Not while Gemma–and Molly for that matter–not while they’re missing! You say you don’t want to be blamed, then you say heartless things like that!’
When he saw I was getting angry, he backtracked.
‘Me and my mouth,’he said. ‘Sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean to sound quite so...blunt. The point I was trying to make is that Gemma Dyce can look after herself. But thanks to her selfishness, an innocent eight year old is frightened and alone in the middle of a disaster zone. Thatupsets me. Children need protecting. I mean,’- he started to laugh-‘look at me. A mum who doesn’t care. And a dad who never stops. Punching me, that is. No one’s everprotected me. I like to think I’ve turned out okay, but the rest of the world might disagree -’
He shrugged and walked away, went back to his private corner, left me standing, wondering.
Ryan‘Byron’Wheeler: awkward loner in need of friendship, or a calculating nutcase? Before I had the chance to organise my thoughts, however, Greg went pow! The volcano erupted. All that pent up anger and emotion, suddenly released. He burst from Curtis and Leon’s grip, eyes wide, body pulsing, and yelled at the top of his voice.
‘I can’t,’he said, over and over. ‘I can’tbe here anymor
e. I need Gemma. I want Gemma. I’ve got to find her.’
‘Relax!’begged Leon. ‘There’s nothing we can do. She'll be on her way home. She'll probably be sorting out help for the rest of us right now.'
Unlikely, but it was nice of Leon to be so encouraging.
'What if she needs me?’said Greg, oblivious to Leon's or anyone else's comments. ‘I’ve got to go after her.’
Then he powered forward, pushed the chairs aside and ran straight to the stairwell. Leon and Curtis sprinted after him. I joined them. We all leapt on Greg, took his arms, tried to pull him back.
‘Get off!’he said. ‘Let me go!’
He was so strong. It was hard to keep a grip of him, let alone stop him.
‘Don’t!’Leon begged. ‘Don’t go in the flood, mate! Don’t risk it!’
‘Please,’I said. ‘Stay here and wait. We don’t even know if she’s definitely gone. Maybe you were right. Maybe Byron was-’
But before I could say anymore, Greg overpowered us, pushed us out of his way. He tore down the stairs with a look in his eyes: a fury, a rage. When I saw that look, I knew there was nothing we could do. He was lost to his cause. With one gargantuan Viking-style charge he burst through the door and threw himself into the water.
For a moment, it looked like he was winning. He crashed through the torrent, big legs striding, aims flailing. We shouted to him, begged him to come back, but our words were lost in the din. It looked like he was aiming for the lamppost, the one that had maimed Curtis’s car. If he could only get to it, I thought, something to hold on to - if he onlycould, he’d have a chance.
‘Look out!’yelled Curtis.
An uprooted tree, caught in the flow, suddenly span sideways and careered towards him.
‘Tree!’we all shouted.
Greg turned, saw the tree coming, tried to dodge it, but as he leapt to the side he lost his footing. He went down like a tower, face first, then came up splashing, choking for breath. I’ll never forget the way his eyes went as wide as plates, frightened and awed. He tried and tried to get back in control, to stay on the surface. He fought for his position, but the current overwhelmed him. All we could do was watch, as his huge frame was dragged under and eaten by the water.
We stayed at the door, for what must have been ten minutes. We watched and hoped and believed that he’d reappear. We stayed and we stayed and we stayed.
The water rushed.
The wind shook.
Andwhen Greg didn’t reappear, in our hearts, we knew.
Chapter Thirty Two
The dismay was like a cannon ball thudding into me. Leon hugged me, but I could feel the shudder in his body. He was sobbing. When we couldn’t bear to watch the empty expanse of water any longer, we stepped away from the doorway. One by one, we gathered at the candles. No one said anything. There were no words suitable.
The rain started again, pattering on the glass, gently at first, but gradually growing in intensity. It sounds silly, but at the time, it felt like it was doing it deliberately, to spite us. For me, it was the snapping point.
‘I want it to stop,’I sobbed, shaking all over. ‘I just want to see my family and go back to normal.’
Leon hugged me tighter. In a different situation, I would have been delighted. But here and now, his hug was barely enough to keep me from collapsing in a heap. I needed it. It was medicine. I gripped his shoulders, not because they were his, but because I had to hold on to something - otherwise I don’t think I could’ve continued.
‘He’s strong,’said Curtis, breaking the silence. ‘He’s got a killer front crawl. I bet he’s swum himself out of it.’
Leon shifted.
‘You think so?’
‘He won the Hurst swimming gala two years running. I remember when he held up the trophy. Everyone called him the Human Sea-Snake. If anyone’s got a chance it’s him.’
‘His hands are massive.’
‘And his shoulders. Let’s face it, the guy’s built like a monster truck. I bet he’s sitting on the grass right now, wondering what the hell he just did, wishing he had a can of beer.’
Curtis laughed, but I could see his eyes were glistening with tears. They were best friends when they were kids, Curtis and Greg. Hard to believe, because they were so different now. I guess they grew apart, got into different things, different crowds.
‘Maybe - ' I said, giddily hopeful.‘Maybe they’re allokay? Maybe Greg’s found Gemma and Molly and everything’s back to normal?’
Byron coughed, raised an eyebrow.
‘Why sugar-coat it?’he said. ‘Why get your hopes up?’
He was talking to all of us, but particularly me. Doing that thing again, opening his mouth, saying tactless stuff. I trembled with anger. I’m not saying I didn’t see his point. I knew we were clutching at straws, but sometimes people need that. They need to cling to whatever hope they can find, because the alternative is too upsetting. It helped, the fact that Curtis was reminding us about Greg’s physical power, bigging up his chances of survival. It made us all feel stronger.
Byron’s comment did the opposite. None of us wanted to hear it, so we ignored him. I thought that would be enough. I mean, a normal person would read the atmosphere, wouldn’t they? They’d realise when they were saying the wrong thing. They’d know when to keep their thoughts to themselves. But this was Byron.
‘Statistically,’he continued. ‘Greg’s chances are poor. If the torrent itself hasn’t drowned him, then it’s likely he’s collided with some kind of obstacle. And whatever he’s collided with, he’ll have hit it at speed. That lamp-post? Or the tree? Or a submerged car? Your car, in fact, Curtis? Where did that end up?’
Curtis leapt to his feet.
‘You’re sick!’
‘Hang on,’said Byron. ‘I haven’t finished. There’s also the contamination - I’m only telling you so you’ll understand–even the tiniest sip could make someone sick. If Greg does survive he’ll need his stomach pumped -’
‘What’s wrongwith you? You’re tapped in the head!’
Curtis balled his fists. The veins in his temples looked like they were going to pop. I’d never seen him angry before. He looked possessed. He picked Byron up by the collar, whamed him against the table. He wasn’t big. He matched Byron for height and build, but the rage seemed to give him twice the strength.
My heart raced. I looked at Leon.
‘Do something,’I whispered. ‘Don’t let them fight.’
But Leon didn’t move. He just held my hands, held them tight, like he didn’t want me to be scared.
Chapter Thirty Three
The first blow caught Byron on the nose, where the bone jutted and the skin was thin. I was surprised Curtis had such a good punch. He’d obviously been taught to drive his arm, put his whole body into it - a proper boxer’s punch. Even Byron noticed.
‘Good form,’he joked, through his daze. ‘Nice.’
Curtis ignored him and swung for a second time, landing his fist against Byron’s left temple. The sound of knuckle to bone was horrible. Once again, I begged Leon to intervene, but he stayed fixed to the spot, hands tight around mine. Curtis threw another punch, splitting Byron’s eyebrow. Like Greg, he was in another zone, acting without thinking. Momentarily, he stepped away, then went for a shove. He threw both hands into Byron’s chest. The force was so heavy, Byron gasped for breath. He lost his balance, fell against the table. As he regained composure he looked up at Curtis.
‘Pain is only a feeling,’he said, with a glaze in his eyes. ‘Do what you like.’
He curled his arms in front of his face to protect his glasses. Curtis cried and sobbed, like it ruined him to do it, but he didn’t stop. I knew what he wanted. He wanted Byron to fight back. He wanted to take a blow himself, to feel the hurt, a physical hurt that would obliterate the mental one.
It would only end if Byron fought back, if he kicked, punched, smacked Curtis in return.
But he wouldn’t. Somehow, I knew he wouldn’t.
He looked serene. It was as if he’d taken his mind somewhere else, to the lines of the window frames, the cracks in the glass, the clouds, the stars, the moon. Suddenly he started to mutter:
‘Don’t even know how to fight, do you Ryan? You just stand there and take it, don’t you, Ryan? Facking moron! You don’t belong in this family!’
It sounded like he was going mad, but I knew what he was doing. He was recalling fights with his dad, reliving bad memories. He, too, had been pushed into a zone. Curtis hovered, pulled his arm back, like he wanted to go for him one more time, but I’d had enough. I broke free from Leon’s grip and flew forward.
‘Stop it!’I cried, jumping onto his back. ‘Just stop it! Leave him alone now! Enough! ENOUGH!’
We both fell, landed clumsily on the floor, lay breathless. In the half-light, Curtis looked ragged, a person on the edge, a shell-shocked soldier. His arms were locked at his sides. His face was covered in sweat. Meanwhile, Byron stumbled to his feet. He wiped the blood from his brow, tightened his knee bandage, adjusted his glasses and walked away. After all that, he simply walked away.
Chapter Thirty Four
Tears streamed down Curtis’sface. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t look at us. The atmosphere was awful. With Byron gone, we were three and we were truly lost. Our happiness, the fun we’d had, it seemed like an eternity away. I crept towards Leon. All I wanted was a cuddle, a hug, the warmth of his body to sooth the sorrow. I reached out to him, waited for his embrace, but instead he stiffened and sat back.
‘My hip,’I said, rubbing my leg. ‘I think I bruised it when I fell.’
‘Shame,’he replied, with a coldness I didn’t understand.
I tried to take his hand in mine, but he shuffled away.
'What’s the matter?' I said. 'Why are you avoiding me?’
He stared at the window, at the pestering rain. I placed my hand on his shoulder, but I could feel the‘leave me alone’tension all around him. It didn’t make sense. In the very moment I needed him, and he needed me, he was pushing me away.
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