‘At least tell me what the problem is?’
Eventually he turned around, but it wasn’t the warm response I craved. His eyes were full of fury.
‘Whose side are you on?’he hissed. ‘You know what Byron’s done. You know about the photos and the phones. And you knowhe’s done something to Gemma -’
‘I don’t. Not for sure. I mean, we don’t have proof -’
‘We don’t needproof. It’s obvious. She went missing just after he came back. And all that stuff about a monster cutting his knee? He’s playing games with us and yet you stillwant to defend him -’
I shut my eyes. I couldn’t hear it. Curtis, Gemma - they always saw things in black and white, good and evil, yes and no. But Leon? I thought, I hoped Leon was smarter, more sensitive than that. Then it dawned on me.
‘That’s why you held my hands, isn’t it?’I said, coming to my senses. ‘When Curtis attacked Byron, you held on to my hands and you wouldn’t let go. But you weren’t doing it to comfort me. You were doing it to stop me. You were holding me back, weren’t you? You didn’t want me stop Curtis! And you didn’t want to stop him yourself, even though I asked you to. You didn’t want to stop Curtis, because you were glad to see Byron get hurt.’
Leon’s face contorted.
‘He asked for it,’he said. ‘Don’t you see? He deserved it.’
‘Why? Why?’
I burst into tears. Curtis, Byron, Marshall–everything. It was too much.
‘You’re all the same!’I cried, the sobs exploding out of me, the disappointment searing. ‘Whydo you have to be the same? You’re animals! You’re all the same!’
Chapter Thirty Five
I hate violence. I’ve never understood why people think it’s a way to solve problems. Violence just causes more pain and upset. And it certainly isn’t heroic.
Marshall Finch taught me that.
Not long after I started going out with him, he began to show his mean side. Not to me - he treated me like a princess. It was other people: friends, boys, even my own sister. Basically, anyone I spent time with, other than him. I guess he had a possessive streak. He didn’t liketo share my attention. I hate to think about it. Even now. Sometimes I make myself though, because I don’t want the memory to stay trapped inside me. All that frustrationand regret, I don’t want it to turn me into a bitter person.
Dumping Marshall was the smartest thing I ever did. God knows it took me a while, but when I made up my mind I knew I was never going back–despite what he thought. The turning point happened one Sunday, a really sunny Sunday in June. I was coming back from tennis and this guy, Alex Menzies, started talking to me at the bus stop. He looked about sixteen, same age as me. I’d seen him around the tennis club, but we'd never spoken. He asked what college I went to, where I bought the army-issue satchel that was slung over my shoulder. He looked like he was into music. I didn’t think anything of it, no big deal. In all honesty, I thought he was slightly annoying. Then one of Marshall’s friends drove past and saw us chatting. When Marshall found out, he got the wrong idea. He tracked Alex down and beat him up so badly, he was in hospital for a week. Three broken ribs and a fractured skull. Marshall was arrested. It all went to court. I had to give evidence, but in the end Alex Menzies dropped the charges. I think he was scared. It was awful, the worst time of my life.
So now, I didn’t need to watch Curtis take pot shots at Byron, or have Leon hold me back. I understood their distress. I felt it too. I wanted Greg and I wanted Gemma and I wanted to know they were okay. But fighting wouldn’t help. How could it?
Chapter Thirty Six
I stumbled through the dark space, whispering Byron’s name. I didn’t want the others to know I was looking or that I cared, but it wasn’t right to leave to him like that, whatever he’d done. Meanwhile, Leon lingered near the window and watched the rain fall on the mess of the town below. I say he watched; really, he just stared, blank-eyed. Curtis cowered in the store cupboard. I could hear him sobbing amongthe clutter. All his rage had been spent. Nothing left but tears. Perhaps if he’d cried them in the first place, he wouldn’t have behaved so aggressively. I thought of Byron’s claim about Curtis having a sinister side. Hard to believe, given his clownish nature, but there you go. Now I’d seen it for myself.
My head started to ache, a tight band of tension. When I couldn’t find Byron, I sat down, hugged my knees to my chest, buried my face in my hands. It felt like everything was my fault. If I’d only escapedwith Gemma when she’d asked...if I’d told Greg about the Molly problem earlier...rewind a week: if I'd put a stop to the stupid clay fight...
It was all on my shoulders.
A fork of lightening split the sky. The brightness was startling, a momentary sheet of electric white. It was relief from the dark, but it was also terrifying. More bad weather. More trouble. I used to love thunderstorms, but this one felt like punishment. As the sky rumbled and the wind and rain pounded the windows, I started to cry. I was cold. I was frightened. And I was confused.
To calm myself, I did my best to focus on good things. I thought about everything I loved, everything that was good in my life. I had parents who loved me, who made sure I was safe and happy, who told me they were proud of me; a sister I loved (seventy per cent of the time); a decent house with a big garden and two cats and a deck for barbecues. I had money to buy new clothes and nail polish and music. I liked music. And art. And seeing my friends. And Leon Prentice.
I hugged my knees tighter, chewed on my sleeve. I could see him in the shadows, twiddling bits of fabric, trying to make his 'rope'. I think he knew I was looking a him, but he avoided my gaze. Was he angry? Did he hate me? Had I allowed Byron - weird, freaky Byron - to wreck his opinion of me?
Another crack of lightening lit the sky. My phone. I just needed my phone. One phone-call could make the difference, one messageto let my mum know how bad things were, how desperately we needed help. If Byron didn’t take the phones and no one else did, then they had to be somewhere. I got to my knees and began to scrabble on the floor, under the chairs, beneath the tables.
I worked my way across the room, covered every square inch, around the easels, the sideboard, behind the computer table. Maybe they’d fallen down the back of something? Or been knocked to one side? I went back to where I started, then…
‘I'm here for you, Kate,’said a voice in the dark.
I jumped, crept back. A person-shaped silhouette was standing above me.
‘Don’t look so scared,’ itsaid. ‘Who did you think - ?’
Leon. It was Leon. I’d thought it was Byron. And as much I felt bad to admit it,I’d been alarmed.
‘I'm sorry,’ Leon whispered, offering me his hand.
He helped me to my feet.
‘You were right. I should have stopped the fight.’
‘It was hardly a fight,’I said. ‘It was entirely one-side.’
‘I know. And even though Byron had it coming to him, it hasn’t helped. It’s just made everyone more stressed.’
He paused, thought for a minute.
'But we'll be okay,' he said. 'The plan’s coming together.I’ve worked out how much rope we need.'
‘I don’t know about this rope - '
'But, Kate, there's no way we can stay. We don’t have a clue where Byronis or what else he’s got in store. Why do you think I was prepared to let Curtis beat him up? Bottom line,we had to get to him before he got to us. At least now he’s running scared, but for how long?'
Against my better judgement, I still felt the urge to defend Byron.
‘He's not a monster,' I claimed.
'But he's certainly no angel.'
I sighed, felt torn. It wasn't the first time I'd tried to kid myself that people are nicer than they actually are. After all my attempts to justify Marshall Finch's outrageous actions, my sister had sworn I needed to have the word 'gullible' written across my forehead.
Leon took my hands.
'Do you trust me?' he said.
> He had no idea how complicated that question was for me.
'I want to,' I whispered, collapsing into his chest, wetting his t-shirt with my tears.
'Do you remember when we went bowling?’he said.
Remember? I’d hardly put it out of my head.
‘I hadn’t noticed you before,’he said. ‘I mean, I hadn’t known you, and then, that evening, we ended up in next-door lanes and we got talking. You asked me which of my piercings hurt the most and I let you put your finger through the flesh plug in my earlobe and you squealed like it was really scary. And I thought you were sweet and smiley. And I noticed you had a different coloured nail polish on every finger, which made me think you were also quite cool -’
‘I remember,’I said. ‘And I thought you were a shiny football star, then I saw you had all these holes in your body, and I realised youwere pretty cool too -’
‘So,why did it take us so long to talk to each other?’
‘Because you had lots of other girlfriends.’
‘And youhad a boyfriend. Don’t pin it all on me. You had a boyfriend that everyone was scared of. I mean, the whole town knew about him -’
I swallowed. Not now. I couldn’t bear to think about all that now.
‘Ex-boyfriend,’I insisted. ‘A hundred per cent ex. Everyone makes mistakes. But as for you, I’m not sure whether you’ve stillgot lots of girlfriends. I’ve been warned. I’ve heard rumours, and earlier, you said it yourself, you said your relationship status is complicated-’
‘It is.’
‘I'm done with complicated.’
‘It’s complicated, but what I mean is, it’s complicated because I’m supposed to be on my own, staying away from girls full-stop. I made a pact with my parents that I was going to spend the year focusing on schoolwork. They had a go at me at the end of the summer. They’d heard rumours too, about me reckoning I was some kind of playboy, cheating on their friend’s daughters and stuff. They were livid. So was my brother. And if there’s one thing I hate, it’s my brother being mad at me. He has this way of making me feel really guilty. When I thought about it though, I realised he was right. I was an arrogant cock. I messed up big time, hurt lots of people. But I promise you Kate, that’s not what I’m about anymore. I’ve sorted myself out. No more playing around.’
He stroked my cheek. I could see he looked pained and ashamed by his admission, but I actually felt better. My doubts began to dissolve. I got it, I understood. He’d made mistakes, but he’d learned. Better than that, he’d changed.
‘Thank you,’I said, squeezing his hand.
‘For what?’
‘For being honest, for being straight with me -’
‘Really?’
He rubbed his eyes. For the first time in ages, his pupils twinkled again.
‘It doesn’t put you off, my player past? Half the girls in our year think I’m a cheating bandit, but you’re still willing to give me a chance?’
‘Everyone deserves a chance,’I said.
‘I don’t think your mate Gemma was ever too impressed with me -’
As he said her name we both tensed. I tried to smile through it.
‘I’m sure she’ll understand if I explain...when I see her, I mean -’
A tear leaked from my eye. Leon kissed it away.
‘And you will see her,’he said.
Then he kissed me on the lips. It was the sweetest, softest, loveliest kiss - a sparkling diamond within the rough.
‘So,that’s settled,then,’he whispered, his mouth still hovering against mine. ‘When we get out of here, you and me, we’ll make it official?’
‘What about your pact to stay away from girls?’
He drew back and smiled.
‘It may have escaped your notice, but the last few hours of our lives have been pretty full on. I guess you could say my perspective has shifted. I mean, what’s the phrase? Carpe diem…seize the day!’
He pulled me towards him, kissed me again.
‘Trust me, Kate,’he added, between kisses. ‘I’ll get us out of here. I’ll keep us safe. Are you ready?’
I knew he was referring to his plan about crossing to the ridge with the homemade zip wire. The idea still terrified me, but the alternative - staying here, waiting for the never-coming rescue team, in the dark and the cold, without food, without communication, with the flood water rising, and Byron in hiding - it wasn’t exactly a better option.
Our intimacy was disturbed by the beep of a phone. We both startled.
'That's my ring tone!' said Leon. 'Although it sounds a bit warped…where’s it coming from?'
We listened and realised it was coming from the door to the stairwell. We both dived forward, pulled the door back, to discover all our phones were there, in a pile on the floor. At first I was delighted. I picked mine up. Then I realised it had been smashed. Each of the handsets had been smashed, their keypads snapped, their screens cracked. The only one with life still in it was Leon's.
'Hello?' he said, lifting it to his ear.
He cupped his other ear, walked away, like he was struggling to hear.
'Hello?' I heard him say. 'Hello? Hello?'
I waited in silence, prayed for good news. When he came back, looking baffled.
‘That was so bizarre,' he said.
‘What?’
‘It was the school caretaker -’
‘And? What did he say? What’s happening about rescue? Did you tell him how desperate we are!’
‘I tried. I don't know how much he heard though. The speaker’s been smashed. I could hear him, but I don't think he could hear me. He was saying something about the town still having problems with electrical fires. He just wanted to check we were okay, but– ’
He pulled a face. Rain drummed on the glass.
‘He also said something about whether I'd managed to get through to the rest of the school building yet, whether I'd found the key. The way he was talking, it was like we’d already had a conversation. Honestly, it was so weird - '
I shivered, remembered the phone-call Byron had taken on Leon’s phone, pictured the key that had been hanging round his neck, the one he'd been clutching after his knee had been hurt. I opened my mouth to speak, took a breath, gulped.
'I guess he was talking about key to the link corridor,' said Leon, oblivious. 'It must be in here somewhere. Thank god! Let's start looking. We'll find it.'
'I'm sorry,' I whispered, dread overwhelming me. 'I think it's already been found.'
Chapter Thirty Seven
I explained to Leon about the call Byron had answered on his phone. How he'd hidden in the store cupboard and pretended to be Leon, how he'd obviously taken the key the caretaker had described, and more importantly, how, despite the danger, despite how hungry, frightened and desperate we were, he'd kept it secret, kept it hidden from the rest of us. As soon as I finished explaining myself, I realised I'd made up my mind about him. I was done.
'That's it then,' said Leon, through the shock. 'No more time to waste. We're leaving. We're not hanging around to be slaughtered by a psycho.'
This time I agreed with him.
‘The rope,’he said. ‘It’s all about the rope. It’s got to be strong. We need length, so we need to get to work. And we need Curtis on board, too. It’ll never get done with just the two of us.’
‘Curtis is still in the cupboard,’I said.
Leon huffed.
‘Well, I’ll go talk to him then. I’ll get him out. You stay out here, keep a look out for our crazy friend. If you catch sight of him, shout. Don’t tackle him on your own.’
‘Okay,’I said.
‘And stay away from the stairwell.'
He kissed my head then pushed off to get Curtis. I stayed by the candle to make the most of the little light it offered. Shadows bounced off the walls. The thunder had calmed, but every now and again, there was a rumble. I was so cold I couldn’t feel my toes.
Moments later, Leon dragged Curtis out of the cupboard.
>
‘You’re wasted!’ heraged. ‘This is no way the time to get off your face! What were you thinking?’
Curtis just stood there, swaying. Had he found more bottles of beer?
‘What’s going on?’I said.
‘He’s drunk,’said Leon. ‘That’s what’s going on. Totally mash-up drunk.’
'So whaaat,' said Curtis. ‘Woz it got to do with you? Think you're soooo clever don't you, Mr Perfect, Perfect Prentice....sooooo much cleverer than your stupid, dumbass, stupid, clown-faced sidekick, The Curtmeister...well, I don't care anymore. I don't give a shit. Not 'bout you. Not about anyone.’
His words were slurred. His eyes were droopy. I reached out to him, but he shook me away.
‘Leave me 'lone, Katy-Katy-Waty-Katy. I don’t need you fuzzing over me neither.’
Then I saw, on the floor beside him, a plastic bottle. It looked like cider, really cheap, the sort of stuff that gets passed round at Heavy Metal gigs. By the look of it, Curtis had downed the lot. He was properly drunk. My sister got like that once. She came back from a friend’s house, tripped over the doorstep, told everyone she loved them, then threw up in a wicker bin. And of course I’d seen Marshall like that–too many times.
I nodded at the bottle.
‘Bad DRINK,’Curtis slurred. ‘Tastes like soap.’
‘He claims he found it in the cupboard,’said Leon angrily.
Curtis picked the bottle up and offered it to me.
‘Fancy a swig, Katy?’
‘No thanks.’
I took the bottle from him, sniffed the rim. It smelt rancid, like cider, but sour. Curtis tried to snatch it back.
‘You’ve had enough,’I said, pulling it away.
‘Oh, don’t be zuch a kill-joy, Katy-Waty,' he mumbled. ‘Juz trying to kill some time. Join me, come on!’
He staggered and fell. Leon caught him and held him upright.
‘Don’t collapse on us, now, Curt,’he said. ‘Man up. We need you.’
He dragged Curtis over to the candle, sat him in front of abox of fabric. Curtis slumped to the floor and started stroking Leon’s face with a square of purple fun fur. ‘Get off!’said Leon. ‘Focus, will you? We’ve got work to do. We’ve got a rope to make.’
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