‘Hyper what?’
‘Hyperthermia. We learned about it in Biology. It’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 can’t stand it. I don’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. ‘We’ve only just got back together. If we’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 don’t want to suffer,’I said. ‘I want to be able to enjoy my last moments with you.’
‘Don’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. They’ll burn. You might even find matches in the canteen -’
‘Where’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.
‘He’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. ‘Don’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 don’t think he realised the danger we were in. When he finally got to us, I grabbed him, hugged him.
‘Wahey!’he giggled–still drunk. ‘Didn’t know you felt that way, Kate!’
‘She doesn’t,’said Byron. ‘She’s relieved to see you, that’s all.’
Curtis stared at him, scanned his array of bruises and cuts.
‘Why are you still here? Looks like you’ve been in a prize-fight…and guess who the winner wasn’t?’
‘Keep your voice down,’I urged. ‘We don’t want him to know you’re here.’
‘Don’t want whoto know I’m here?’said Curtis. ‘The guy that was with you a minute ago? I thought it was Leon.’
‘It’s not Leon. It’s my ex boyfriend, Marshall Finch.’
‘As in theMarshall 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 everyone’s disappeared and I’m still stuck in this poxy drowning school and the whole place stinks of toilets! What’s going on? Why are we hiding?’
The way he was grinning, swaying slightly, he was definitely still inebriated. At least he’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. He’s trapped us in here and he doesn’t care if we die. I’ve managed to trick him intolooking for matches and stuff, but he won’t be long. We need to leave. The trouble is,’ –I paused, caught up with myself– ‘I don’t have a clue where we’re going to go.’
Deep breath. Think. Think clearly.
We had the whole school at our disposal, the parts of it that weren’t locked, collapsing, or underwater. There had to be a way outthat didn’t involve ludicrous jumps and deadly river rapids.
‘What about the sports hall?’I said. ‘Do you think the sports hall willbe open?’
‘It’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 wouldn’t chance it.’
‘KATY!’
Marshall’s voice rang through the dark. He was coming back. We could hear him calling, but we couldn’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. ‘He’s anything but.’
‘KATE? KATY!’
He was getting closer. He had his torch with him. As soon as he realised we weren’t on the steps where he’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.
‘It’s funny you’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 don’t have time for stories,’I panicked. ‘Think! Where can we go?’
‘Thing is,’said Curtis,‘you wouldn’t believe what woke me up from my doze...a frickin’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. It’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!’
Chapter Fifty Four
By the time we reached the link corridor, we could see the flicker of Marshall’s torch.
‘Where are you, Kate?’he shouted.‘WHERE ARE YOU?’
I guess he realised he’d been tricked. We waded through the dark, between the floating furniture. Byron did his best, despite his pain. Curtis was drunkenly slow and I had to drag him, chivvy him, orderhim to keep up. But we didn’t worry about being quiet or moving in secret. We just needed to move fast. If Marshall had been angry before, he’d be furious now. We had to get to the art room before he got to us.
‘Come on!’ I urged.‘Keep up!’
I pulled Curtis by the sleeve, but he stopped completely.
‘Wait,’he said.‘I’ve got an idea.’
‘We can’t hang about now!’
He ignored me. Instead, he pulled an upended table towards him and twisted it so that it jammed the width of the corridor.
‘Road blocks,’he said, with a grin. ‘It’ll slow him up. You were right, Kate. He doesn’t sound very nice. In fact, he sounds like a bit of a tosser!’
‘A bit?’ mumbled Byron. ‘He makes meseem like prom-king material.’
We swamalong the corridor, throwing whatever we could in our wake - more tables, a chair, a stack of box files, anything that would get in Marshall’s way. He wasn’t far behind now, shouting like crazy, calling me a bitch, telling me he was going to kill me.
We shoved the door to the Vis A stairwell. My SOS flag was still flapping in the entrance. How pathetic. Why did I think a flag would help us? We splashed up the waterfall stairs. In the half-light, the art room looked like the sunken remains of a ghost ship. The easels, the desks, the pottery wheel, my black folder containing my designs for the mural–they were still there, but they were changed. They weren’t the everyday clutter of an art room anymore. They were evidence of a disaster.
As for the wall where the mural was going to be - the reason why our nightmare had begun in the first place - it had gone. Obliterated. In its place was a gaping hole. Through this hole, the corner of a battered mobile classroom protruded. There was rubble a
ll over the floor, twisted metal and dust. It was unreal. As I stared, despair overwhelmed me. I tried to push through it, to focus on our escape. I searched and tried, but all I could feel was despair. And then I realised it wasn’t just the state of the room that had changed. It was me, too.
Everything had stopped. The feeling was suffocating. It was as if the whole world was moving, but I was frozen, trapped in the moment. I couldn’t move. Curtis beckoned me towards the mobile classroom.
‘This way,’he said. ‘Across the roof. It’s easy.’
‘I can’t,’ I cried. ‘I’ve had enough. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t-’
Curtis offered his hand. Byron looked on, bewildered by my change of heart. But all I could think about was Leon. For all the time we’d been captive, fighting with Marshall, trying to flee, Leon had been lying in that water, cold and broken. It couldn’t be. I just knew. It was too late.
I broke down, knelt to the floor.
I don’t remember how I got moving again, but I know that Byron and Curtis did everything. They worked together. They hoisted me up, put one foot in front of the other, slung my arm across their shoulders andheld my waist so I wouldn’t fall. Curtis snapped himself out of his inebriated haze. Byron stepped up. That’s what good people do, isn’t it? Even if they make mistakes, or always act the joker, or tell lies, or say the wrong things, when it counts they step up to the mark.
‘Keep going, Kate,’said Curtis. ‘Nearly there.’
‘Come on, Kate,’said Byron.
And thanks to them, I got my fight back.
We scrambled onto the roof of the mobile classroom. It felt good to be out in the open air–especially now it wasn’t raining. The sky was starting to lighten. I had no idea what time it was. 4am? 5am?
‘YOU CAN’T HIDE, KATE! I’M COMING UP THERE!’
Marshall’s voice sailed up the stairwell.
Curtis grabbed my arm and I grabbed Byron’s. We ran across the flattest part of the roof, to where we could see the bank of the ridge, only to discover we’d underestimated the challenge.
‘Uh,oh!’said Curtis, stalling. ‘The classroom must have shifted with the water.’
‘We’ll never jump that!’I cried.
We looked back towards the art room. We could see the bounce of torchlight, Marshall’s shadow behind it.
‘ –But we’ll have to try!’
Curtis faked a smile and looked to the ridge. It was a good three meters away, across a trench of fast moving water.
‘Choose your ex-boyfriends more carefully next time,’ he grumbled. ‘Thank god I’m good at long-jump.’
‘Me too,’I replied.
‘And me,’said Byron,‘- not that I’ve ever tried it.’
‘You better stick with me, then,’said Curtis.
Before Byron could argue Curtis grabbed his hand and dragged him with him.
‘Here goes,’he called. ‘See you on the other side.’
After a short run-up, they lurched and leapt. Curtis landed neatly. Byron caught the bank and stumbled, but Curtis managed to haul him into a secure, safe position. Thumbs up. Their success made me soar. I glanced back and saw Marshall looming towards the collapsed wall. I gave a brief thought to my family, my friends, and to Leon. I threw myself forward, shut my eyes, swam the air. The moment seemed to last forever.
The next thing I knew, I hit the bank with a thump. I wasn’t as agile as Curtis. My knees took the brunt of it. I rolled and tumbled, felt every bump. I ended up on my back, eyes to the sky, legs in the air. But I made it. I crawled up the bank and collapsed in a heap. When I looked up again, I saw that the mobile classroom had been taken by the current. It was sailing downstream. And standing on the roof, hands on hips, face aghast, was Marshall. For once, just once, in this big crazy mess, nature seemed to be on our side.
Chapter Fifty Five
We clambered up to the highest point of the ridge, where we could see across the valley. The River Slode was a bloated brown serpent. Everything in its wake had been destroyed or damaged. The town was unrecognisable. Curtis broke the silence.
‘We should try and get down to the playing fields,’he said. ‘I bet that's where Gemma's gone. There are helicopters about. If one flies over, it'll be the best place to attract attention -’
‘Okay, but we need to check on Leon first,’I said.
'Yeah, Leon,' said Curtis. 'Where is he? Where’s my boy?'
I hugged myself, looked to the sky, then explained how he'd smashed his ankles at the bottom of the ridge. Curtis looked appalled.
‘Is he okay?’
I shook my head, fought the tears.
‘I don't think so,’I whispered. ‘The last time I saw him, he wasn’t...’
I stared at the ground. Suddenly I could feel Byron’s gaze on me, boring into me. Did he feel guilty? Did he feel bad in some way?
‘Has anyone noticed the ground feelsfunny?’he said.
I blinked.
‘Sorry?’
‘The earth, the soil, it feels funny, kind of sludgy. I doubt this ridge was a well-thoughtpiece of landscape design,’he continued.‘More like a dump of rubble the council were too cheap to remove.’
We’d all heardthe rumours, that the ridge was full of toxic waste, that it was an ancient burial mound, that there was a nuclear bunker in the centre–mostly silliness. And, in any case, why was Byron concerned about it now? Whatever it was made from, it was our salvation, the only chunk of dry land for miles around.
‘Landslides,’he said. ‘Poor ground stability combined with an excess of rain and bad drainage - that’s a landslide waiting to happen.’
‘Why do you always have to be so negative?’said Curtis. ‘We’ve got enough to worry about, without having to think about geography. Besides, there's no way we’re having a landslide. They only happen in muddy countries.’
Byron sighed.
‘If that’s what you think,’he said.
Curtis shrugged and stared down the gulley, towards Vis A, or what was left of Vis A.
‘Wait a minute!’he said.
He jumped to his feet, stumbled forward and squinted.
‘I can see him -’
My pulse accelerated.
‘Yes, there he is! Down there, at the edge of the water! Leon! LEON!’
He started waving his arms, shouting. I leapt to his side and stared into the chasm. I could just about seethe outline of Leon's slumped body, an outstretched arm, a mound of a back. He hadn’t moved from the tree root. The water was up to his waist. He didn’t look very alive, but seeing him made it real. I just wanted to scoop him up and hold him. I turned to the others.
‘We need to help him. We can’t leave him down there. Between us we could carry him - '
Neither of them said anything. I could see the panic on their faces, the anguish, but I knew their minds. In the distance, we heard the whir of a helicopter.
‘Well, are we going to help him or what?’
They couldn't look me in the eye. The helicopter seemed to be drawing closer.
‘We should go,’said Curtis. ‘We need to get down to the playing field, before it flies away. This might be our only chance - '
I shook my head, felt a million emotions splinter my thoughts.
‘But we can’t go without Leon.’
Curtis closed his eyes.
‘I don’t think we have a choice,’he said.
The helicopter was now above the trees.
'We need to go. We'll tell the rescuers he's down there. We'll send them back for him. They’ll know what to do. They’ll have proper equipment and stuff.’
Now we could see a search-light, circling the sky. I knew I should be relieved, ecstatic that after all we’d been through, we had a genuine chance of rescue. But instead, I felt torn. I knew what Curtis was saying. I knew it made sense, but my instinct told me not to leave Leon.
‘Come on,’begged Curtis. ‘Let’s go!'
He started to run. Byron hobbled after him. And I - m
uddled, confused, heart-broken–followed them. Half way towards the path to the playing field, however, my conscience exploded. I stopped still, held my breath. Byron stopped too, gestured for me to keep moving.
‘It’s going,’he said. ‘The ground is loosening. Can't you feel it? Any minute now. We’ve got to get off this ridge, Kate, before it collapses.’
I heard him, but I’d fixed. I’d made up my mind.
‘I don’t care,’I said. ‘I’m going back for Leon.’
I expected him to shrug and run, to leave me to it, but instead he clambered backwards, took my hand, adjusted his broken glasses.
‘Well, come on, then,’he said.
Hand-in-hand, we scrambled back towards the gulley. Curtis was so focused on getting to the playing field before the helicopterhe didn’t notice our departure. We ran down the slope as fast as we could, but after a few meters, we started to slip. I steadied myself on a tree stump, squeezed Byron’s hand, caught my breath.
‘Whoa! Did you feel that? It was like the ground came right out from under us!’
Before I could say anything else,Byron’s hand ripped away from mine. I turned, managed to catch his eye, but it was too late. It was happening. The earth was falling. I heard Byron shout as it pulled us apart, but there was nothing I could do. We were sliding too fast, too hard. My body bounced. The brambles lashed my arms and legs. The sloppy earth cascaded beneath me, around me, on top of me. I felt the mud and grit and dirt in my mouth, felt my body turn three sixty degrees. I felt it and got ready to die.
Chapter Fifty Six
Seconds later, it was over. All I knew was that I’d stopped falling. I wasn’t drowning. I wasn’t in the water. I’d landed on top of the sludge and debris that had fallen from the ridge - a vast mound, half a hill. It filled the gulley, damning the flood, slowing the flow of water, like a seaside castle moat when the sand-walls cave in.
I sat up and rubbed my head. I was caked in muck. I’d lost my shoes. I was battered and bruised and scratched, but at least I was alive. I spat the grit from my mouth and tried to stand. An immense throb filled my right shoulder, then I noticed my arm was dangling. It had dislocated. The pain made me want to vomit, but instead I swallowed, resistedpanic. I looked around, looked for what to do. I’d survived. I’d been lucky. So lucky.
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