by G Mottram
Mouse was staring into his tea cup again. ‘That leaves you, Mr Willow. We know of your power – you should train him… unless you would let him face the Brethren knowing nothing.’
‘Enough.’ Mrs Russof stood up. ‘We had better go Richard. I am sorry. Mihail… all of us have no right to question your decisions like this.’
Dad shrugged and stood up as well. ‘Why not? I do - every single day.’
Louisa ushered Mouse off the sofa and out into the corridor. Jason followed the two of them leaving Dad staring through one of the windows. Miranda hugged him from behind, her chin resting on his shoulder.
Mrs Russof stayed in the drawing room with him for a moment, just a step behind his resolute back. She said something Jason couldn’t hear, Dad nodded once, then she joined them in the hallway.
Jason glanced at Louisa. So she was going to go back to the Watch, to hunt demons. What would she think of him if he didn’t even learn how to use his Gifts?
They reached the hallway and Jason opened the door. ‘I want to train, you know,’ Jason said, ‘I want to learn how to use my Gifts but Dad…’
Mrs Russof held her hand up. ‘Jason - you have no idea at all what your father has been through… what terrible, terrible things hunters have to do. Neither have you two,’ she said, glancing coldly at Mouse and Louisa. ‘You should not blame him for wanting you to stay away from… our world.’
She smiled then, sadly and touched Jason’s cheek with cool fingertips. ‘In the end he knows you will make your own choices, but always listen to what your father has to say – listen really well. He is only trying to do what he thinks is best for you.’
Jason nodded guardedly, but Mrs Russof seemed to accept it. She led Mouse and Louisa out into the hazy dusk. Louisa looked back at him once, her eyes searching his and then she turned and walked away.
Jason closed the door and turned to watch his father still staring out of the drawing room window with Miranda wrapped around his back. He needed someone to train him and it didn’t look as if Dad was going to change his mind any time soon.
Chapter 11
Fight fever spread quickly at Silent Hill. Jason noticed the whispers and glances directed at him the moment he stepped off the bus into the glaring sunlight of the massive forecourt.
Skins, Brash and normals all kept looking at him - the Brash members pushing up Ray Ban and Armani sunglasses into their shining, floppy hair and the Skins sneering and running one finger across their tattooed throats. The normal kids, those not in either gang, stared with everything from admiration down to pity.
‘I am guessing today is when you become Fast Eddie’s little gladiator,’ Mouse said disinterestedly.
The three of them had hardly spoken on the bus in. Mouse had mumbled something about ‘not supposed to talk about it,’ and ‘…your father’s decision,’ before pretending to study for some maths test or other.
‘Good,’ Jason said, his eyes scanning the crowds unsuccessfully for Baldwin who hadn’t been on their bus this morning, ‘I need to get some practice in if I’m to join the Watch.’
Louisa looked at him and her lips pursed in thought. She wasn’t expecting that, Jason thought.
‘I thought your father wasn’t going to allow it,’ Mouse said, as they moved through the crowds to the relative calm of the entrance passage.
‘My father can’t control my life forever – I’ll do what needs to be done.’
Mouse only grunted but Louisa bent close to whisper in his ear. ‘This is not the way to learn, not with Alan Brash or his creatures.’
I haven’t got much choice, have I? Jason thought but Louisa was already walking away, Mouse following in her wake.
‘Thanks for your help,’ Jason mumbled to himself.
So the fight was planned for today. It would have been nice if Fast Eddie had let him know yesterday, or even spoken to him for that matter. Perhaps the Brash leader was washing his hands of him as well.
Baldwin was in form class and actually made it to the first two lessons. He constantly stared at Jason, whispering with his three fellow Skins.
Jason ignored it all. He felt calm - content to let the fever rise around him whilst he sat back with a cool head. He’d been at the centre of a dozen or more proper fights before - when you constantly moved to new schools there was a lot of “settling in” to the pecking order to be done. He’d won them all – life-long Jakra training against opponents as strong and talented as Dad and Miranda gave him a huge advantage over hot-headed bullies relying only on their size and aggressive intimidation.
He was confident he’d put on a good show today for Louisa.
Violet was not so sanguine about it all, however. In maths, just before break, she touched his arm and whispered to him. ‘Listen, do you want me to tell a teacher about this? If I told them then it wouldn’t look like you were trying to avoid the fight.’
Jason smiled across at her, as he finished off his last simultaneous equation. They’d only known each other two and a bit days but she was definitely growing on him. Behind her quiet voice and skinny figure Jason there was a tough streak of determination and she always said what she felt. Best of all, was her cutting sense of humour.
‘Thanks, Violet but I’m not sure you understand - I have to fight Baldwin. It would look really bad if I didn’t see it through.’
She raised an eyebrow, holding his eyes with her grey-blue ones. ‘I’m not a stupid as you look, Jason. I understand far better than you what’s going on. You really don’t want to get sucked in to all of this gang stuff.’
‘And what do you know about this “gang stuff”?’
‘Hasn’t anyone told you who I am yet? I’m Alan Brash’s ward.’
Jason dropped his gaze. ‘Oh yeah, my mate Mouse did say something about that…’
‘So maybe you should listen to me for once.’
‘But where’s the fun in that?’ Jason tried.
He was met with a stony glare. ‘You do know all this gang fighting is just a sad selection process for Brash’s little private army don’t you…?’
‘And the problem with that is...?’ Jason answered.
‘You don’t know what he’s like.’
‘I’ve a lot of people trying to tell me, though.’
Violet didn’t answer so he carried on, a little less abrasively. ‘Look – all schools are the same - if I don’t flatten Baldwin now I’ll have every little punk of a bully trying to push me around – whether they’re in a gang or not. I’m doing this for me, not for anyone else, all right?’
Violet stared at him, her normally bone-white skin flushing with a touch of red. ‘You think so?’ she said finally and started to pack away her dozen pencils.
Jason passed one he had borrowed back to her. ‘Look, sorry. I know you’re only trying to help. Don’t worry about a thing, all right?’ he said, a lot more softly and touching her on the shoulder. ‘…and don’t tell any teachers.’
Violet just ignored him, focussing on the inner depths of her bag.
The bell went for break and Jason felt a small twist in his stomach. This could be it. He stood up and stepped towards the door.
‘Jason...’ Violet almost whispered. He turned back to her as the rest of the class started clearing out of the room.
‘Be careful.’
‘Thank…’ Jason began, then suddenly crashed sideways into her desk.
He pushed himself back up and span around, fists up. Baldwin stood laughing a couple of feet away.
‘Just thought I’d help you two get closer…’ He sneered and snaked his studded tongue in and out of his mouth.
‘Watch my tables, boys.’ Mrs Strachen, their middle aged, battle-axe of a maths teacher snapped, looking over her shoulder from wiping the blackboard. ‘I know you may be in a hurry to escape maths but leave the room in one piece.’
Jason didn’t take his eyes off Baldwin. ‘See you soon,’ he whispered, and walked past.
‘Oooh, I’m scared,’ Baldwin
sniggered and his three skin-headed friends laughed with him.
In the dining hall, things were heating up nicely. As Jason entered, there were a few cheers from various Brash dotted around the place. Perhaps they had decided to adopt him after all.
There was a good deal of hissing from the Skins dominating one corner of the hall and even a low chant of ‘die, die, die’ before a couple of teachers walked in.
Jason sat down and pulled a packet of crisps from his bag. This was all good hype - when he took Baldwin down in front of the wound-up crowds, Louisa would see what he was really made of.
Mouse came into the hall, looked around and spotted him. He gave a tight smile and walked over. As he sat down he pinched a handful of Jason’s crisps. ‘Listen, we are friends, yes? This fight is not the way to prove anything or even to train. I mean what I said – the Brash will just use you as a gladiator, to make their betting money on. And all this will help Alan Brash suck you into his abbey training and you will be his pawn forever. Perhaps there is a way to get you out of this before it all starts. If…’
‘I don’t want to get out of it, Mouse,’ Jason said, keeping his voice down. What was Mouse trying to do – make him look like some snivelling coward running away from a fight?
‘You’re being very stupid, I think. Louisa doesn’t…’ Mouse began then stopped and looked behind him.
Fast Eddie was standing there, a frown creasing his perfect skin.
‘You never were our greatest fan were you, Mouse, old chum?’ he said. ‘Time for you to leave... I think.’
Mouse returned the stare for a moment then deliberately turned back to Jason.
‘Are you coming with me?’ he said.
Jason shook his head. ‘I’ll see you later.’
Mouse hesitated for a moment then nodded and left without a backward glance.
Eddie sat down next to Jason. Half the heads in the refectory twitched around and the other half huddled in excited whispering.
‘You’ve got the whole school talking, young Jason,’ Eddie smiled, perfect white teeth lighting up his handsome face. ‘Your uhh… friend, Mousey, hasn’t given you second thoughts has he?’
‘Just the opposite,’ Jason said.
‘Good – excellent, in fact. One does wonder at his motives of course… he has always avoided the Pit himself and he probably won’t be best pleased when the lovely Louisa will see you make your triumphant debut today. He does rather fancy her, doesn’t he? Not that I can blame him of course, being so close to her all day… and night.’
Jason didn’t like what he was hearing – it was too close to his own thoughts. Still, he wasn’t going to show his weak spots.
‘He just doesn’t like the idea of me… being like some prize-fighter or something.’
‘Really – is that what he says?’ Eddie smiled, pinching one of Jason’s dwindling supply of crisps with a nod of gratitude. He lowered his voice. ‘I find that surprising as he must know this is just training for taking on… a more serious enemy.’
Jason scanned the room. They were still being watched but no one sat close enough to risk cramping the leader of the Brash or be accused of eavesdropping on his conversation.
‘Do all the kids here know about…?’ Jason began.
Eddie raised a finger to stop him. ‘No – none of the Drunken Abbot scum and only those from the village who have come from… abroad shall we say.’
‘Right.’
Eddie flashed him another white toothed smile. ‘Seriously Jason – do well today and it could lead to the best training you could ever wish for… and I don’t just mean fisticuffs.’
Eddie laid one hand casually on the table top and pointed one finger at a salt cellar… which suddenly shot off the edge of the table and smashed against the back of a Skin on the next table. Salt exploded all over the year-eleven who span around then froze half way out of his seat.
‘Oops,’ Eddie said. ‘So sorry, I dropped it.’
The Skin swore under his breath and stormed out of the canteen, three or four smaller hairless ones clambering out after him.
Eddie smiled. ‘That’ll make them mad. Do you know, Jason, we haven’t had a proper Pit-fight for almost a month, with Easter getting in the way and so on. We really do need to see a severely squashed Skin.’
‘Not a problem…’ Jason said, ‘As long as a teacher doesn’t get in the way.’
Eddie tapped his golden monk badge, the ruby eyes glinting. ‘The prefects run the fights old boy - which means the teachers keep away… as if any of the drunken sots were brave enough to venture outside the school building anyway.’
‘Drunken sots?’ Jason asked, distracted from thoughts of the fight for a moment. ‘They don’t seem drunk to me.’
Eddie shrugged. ‘Of course not – but you can hear the wheel spins at three thirty as they dash off to the village inns for a spot of ale.’
‘Really?’
‘It’s the only way to keep them teaching in this place,’ Eddie winked. ‘Anyway, the point is, don’t worry about being interrupted in your… work this lunch time.’
Jason nodded. His stomach twisted again - things certainly were different at Silent Hill. He’d a sudden feeling of being alone - friendless and slipping down a path he couldn’t get off. He shook himself. Rubbish - this was what he wanted, what he needed to do.
‘Lunch time then is it? Where is this… pit?’
‘It’s a lovely venue.’ Eddie smiled again. ‘I’ve been in there a good few times myself during my meteoric rise to the top - a bit slippy underfoot but that’s all part of the fun.’
‘Mmm. So where is it?’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll send someone to fetch you from the yard after fourth lesson – it’s a little unseemly if I bring you in myself, you understand.’
‘Uhh, right.’
‘Excellent, young Jason. Today could be the first day of a very different life for you.’ Eddie stood up, smoothed his immaculate Armani shirt, winked at Jason and left.
Students were still watching him, more boldly now that Fast Eddie had left the building. Louisa had not come in all break - probably doing maths homework with darling Darius.
Jason chewed his lip. He needed this fight to go well.
***
Two minutes into lunch break Jason strode out into the yard and leant against one of the chisel-scarred boulders.
The noise quickly grew as pupils flooded out of the tunnels and milled around the yard. Most of them seemed to be staring at him and whispering. He did his best to look laid back, ignoring everybody and picking at his fingernails. Where was the escort Fast Eddie was sending to take him to the Pit.
At last, there was a general drifting of bodies towards the south passage. It led out to neutral territory where the woods surrounding most of the school dropped steeply down to finally thin out into one of the many small parks landscaped across Darkston Village.
Jason’s stomach began to clench. Where was his escort? He’d have to go out and try to find the fight himself in a minute or the whole school would think he was too scared to move from the yard.
‘Not a friend in the world, huh?’
Erin Brock, the tall red head who had stepped in to stop his fight with Baldwin, was suddenly at his shoulder.
‘Feels like it,’ Jason mumbled, working on taking slow, deep breaths without anyone noticing. ‘Let’s get on with it?’
Erin smiled, showing small, white teeth which were a little crossed at the bottom. ‘Right you are – nice to see you’re so keen.’
‘I don’t like the waiting,’ Jason said, straightening up from his supposedly cool, leaning-on-the-rock pose.
Erin winked. ‘It’s good for winding up the crowd though – a little feverish anticipation does wonders for the betting.’ She winked and led him towards the south passage.
The press of pupils in the yard edged out of their way. A few took one glance at them and rushed ahead - no doubt to announce Jason’s approach to their friends.
Erin set a steady pace through the crowds, chatting as if they weren’t even there. ‘You’ve caused quite a stir with us sort of backing you.’
Jason didn’t reply. Erin glanced across at him and her smile faded a little. ‘You’ll smash this Baldwin kid, you know – I’ve seen him in the Pit a couple of times before and he’s mainly mouth… although he did win both times come to think of it.’
‘Not helping,’ Jason mumbled.
‘Just remember to ignore the crowd this first time and don’t show off with any fancy stuff.’
‘Suits me,’ Jason said, forced to raise his voice as they entered the tunnel and excited chatter echoed all around them. The far end was all blazing white sunlight.
‘Good,’ Erin said, her smile returning. ‘Now remember that the Skins in the front row are likely to try a few tricks, so keep away from them. They won’t be too out of order as we’re behind you but… just so you know.’
Pupils had stopped to line the last half of the passage. Jason just stared straight ahead, not wanting to talk any more. Some of the kids shouted ‘good luck’ and ‘smash’ im’ type comments but many more let him know that he was going to get slaughtered.
‘Drunken Abbot scum,’ Erin told him, ‘- wannabe skin-heads most of them.’ One thin faced boy with a double nose stud stepped in their path to cuss Jason. Erin slapped him out of the way so hard that he flew back into the wall and slid down it. She didn’t even break stride.
They came out of the tunnel and into the light. The whole area was filled with clusters of staring, chattering pupils. Jason wasn’t hearing them anymore – it was like he had one of those “listen-to-the-sea” shells pressed against each ear. He wanted this over with. If only his bloody stomach would loosen up. It always clenched up before a proper fight until he got hit a few times and then he usually became ice-cold angry and forgot to be nervous. There had never been this sort of build-up in any of his other schools however – this was like stepping into the Coliseum in ancient Rome.
