‘No, Jordan.’
Georgia started to cry, probably more confused than anything else, but clearly realising that something was wrong. Her mum bent down to pick her up.
‘What did he want?’ she asked Jordan. ‘Did he say anything to you?’
‘No, he was just staring at us.’ Jordan stuck her foot back out the window.
‘Jordan!’ warned her mum. ‘Don’t you dare –’ ‘Mrs Burke –’ Peter began.
Georgia was almost screaming now. Patting her on the back with one hand, Jordan’s mum crossed the room to pull Jordan away from the window with the other.
‘Mum – stop –’ Jordan wrenched her way free. ‘You don’t understand –’
‘Jordan, that man is dangerous. You can’t –’
‘Mrs Burke,’ Peter tried again, ‘we –’
‘All of you need to calm down and – Jordan! I told you to stop!’
Jordan was back at the window. She leant out again, then reeled back as a face appeared in front of her.
It was her dad, sweating through his work shirt, chest heaving.
For a second, no-one moved. Then Jordan launched herself at her dad and gave him a hug.
‘Hey, come on,’ he said, putting an arm around her. ‘Jordan, I’m fine! Take it easy.’
She released him and he leant against the windowsill for support.
‘Did you get him?’ Jordan’s mum asked.
‘Almost had him,’ he panted. ‘Chased him down to the end of the street, but he got away into the park. You all okay?’ he asked, glancing at Jordan.
She nodded silently, and my thoughts flashed painfully back to my own dad.
‘That park’s always crawling with security,’ Jordan’s mum said. ‘Surely one of them will have spotted him running through.’
‘Maybe,’ said Jordan’s dad, sweat still dripping down from his shaven head, ‘but I’m going to ride down to the security centre anyway. Let them know we saw him.’
‘Okay, good idea,’ said Jordan’s mum, switching a still-whimpering Georgia across into her other arm.
‘Keep the doors and windows locked until I get home,’ Jordan’s dad said, ‘just in case he comes back.’ He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. ‘Right, back soon.’
He disappeared, and Jordan’s mum pulled the window closed behind him. She flipped the lock, then turned back to Peter and me, and said, ‘You boys had better get moving too. It’s almost dark out there.’
‘Okay, yeah,’ I said. ‘Well … thanks for having us.’
She gave us a wry smile. ‘I just want to let you know this is not a typical Wednesday night at our house,’ she said. ‘Things around here are normally much more … normal.’
‘No worries, Mrs Burke,’ said Peter. ‘I’ve pretty much given up on normal anyway.’
THURSDAY, MAY 14
91 DAYS
My alarm went off earlier than usual the next morning.
There’d been an email from Jordan waiting for me when I’d got home the night before, asking me to meet her in the town centre before school.
She hadn’t said what it was about, so as I rode up the street towards the fountain, my mind raced with a hundred ugly possibilities. Had Crazy Bill come back to her place after we’d left? Had her dad been attacked on his way to the security centre? Had Jordan found some new bit of information about what Calvin was up to?
I met Jordan outside the bakery. She shoved a paper bag and a coffee cup into my hand and sat down on a bench next to one of the gardens running along the street.
‘Thanks,’ I said, sitting down next to her. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yeah, no, nothing’s happened,’ she said, taking a sip from her cup. ‘I just – I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to talk to you about everything that’s happened… Away from Peter, you know?’
‘Oh,’ I said blankly. I knew Peter had been annoying her, but…
‘Not that I don’t – you know,’ she said hurriedly. ‘But he’s kind of –’
‘No, I get it,’ I said, pulling a croissant out of the paper bag. ‘So, was everything okay at your place last night, after we left?’
‘Yeah, Crazy Bill didn’t come back. Dad put in a report at the security centre, but he didn’t really tell them anything they didn’t already know.’
‘Bill would’ve been long gone by then anyway,’ I said.
‘Mmm,’ she said, taking another sip of her hot chocolate. ‘Hey, listen, sorry about yesterday.’
‘What about it?’ I said through a mouthful of croissant.
‘You know, me freaking out over the baby and stuff.’
‘Jordan, you’re allowed to freak out,’ I said, swallowing. ‘In the same week, you’ve found out that the whole world is about to be blown to bits and that your mum’s going to have another kid. I reckon that’s a pretty normal reaction.’
‘Yeah, but it’s not me,’ said Jordan with a sigh. ‘I don’t usually get, you know, scared like that. I’m stronger than that.’
‘Oh,’ I said stupidly. ‘I mean, yes, of course you are. But that doesn’t mean – look, you don’t have to be strong all the time.’
You don’t have to be strong all the time? Brilliant.
Great comforting, idiot.
Jordan didn’t say anything. She just gazed off in the other direction.
I ripped another piece off the croissant and stuck it in my mouth.
My eyes drifted across to the security centre, and I saw Officer Reeve walking down the steps. He was still bound up in plaster and bandages, but he was back in his security uniform again. Back on patrol.
A little shuddering noise to my left brought my attention back to Jordan. She had turned back to face me again. Her mouth was doing this weird creasing thing, like she was trying to smile and frown at the same time. And she was crying.
I’d made her cry.
Or, no, something made her cry. It might not have been me. I don’t know.
Forget the end of the world, there’s nothing scarier or more confusing than a crying girl.
For a minute, it was like I was stunned. I just sat there looking at her, watching the tears streaming down her face. Then I stretched out my arm and put it around her and pulled her into a hug. Because that’s what you do, right?
She put her head down on my shoulder and her braids all fell in my face.
We sat there like that for a minute, with me desperately trying to come up with something reassuring to say.
Then she lifted her head, sat back up again, and said, ‘Sorry.’
‘What?’ I said. ‘No, don’t – it’s okay.’
‘Usually my family are the ones I –’ She stopped.
I heard running footsteps. An animal scream.
Then a shoulder collided with my face and suddenly I was on the ground.
Chapter 19
THURSDAY, MAY 14
91 DAYS
For the first few seconds, I had no idea what was going on.
My head slammed back against the low brick wall of the garden behind me. The whole world exploded and turned red. I closed my eyes and shouted but no sound came out. Then a heavy weight came crashing down on my chest, pinning me to the ground. I saw matted hair and two bulging eyes, only inches from mine.
It was Crazy Bill.
He let out a scream that was more like a growl. Spit sprayed across my face. Between the smell and the concussion, I almost gagged.
My eyes refocused just long enough to catch sight of Jordan lying on the other side of the bench. She’d dived out of the way just in time. I stretched out a hand, dizzy, disoriented. Jordan staggered to her feet.
Crazy Bill sat up, his body still crushing my legs, and screamed again.
For a second, Jordan was on his back, trying to shove him aside. But then Bill twisted around and threw back his shoulder and she was gone. There was a muffled thud as Jordan landed. I looked up, trying to see what had happened to her, but a fist to my gut brought me straight back down to
the ground, blasting the air out of my lungs.
‘NO!’ Crazy Bill shouted. ‘YOU HAVE TO – I NEED – AARGH!’
He threw down another fist. I tried to get out of the way, but my head was still spinning. Searing pain shot through my side as his fist landed just below my ribcage.
‘Stop,’ I groaned thickly. ‘Bill, please –?’
‘YOU – YOU DON’T –’ he raged, his whole body trembling, ‘I ALREADY – KILLED –!’
He grabbed me by the shirt and started shaking me violently against the concrete, wrenching my shoulders. I vaguely noticed a crowd beginning to gather, blurry figures in a circle all around us, but so far no-one seemed that keen on stepping in to help me.
‘Quick!’ Jordan was shouting. ‘Why isn’t anybody – somebody help him!’
So she was okay. Or at least –
Another fist, like fire tearing its way through my face. Crazy Bill had given up trying to form actual words and was now just letting out furious growls with each blow.
‘Please!’ someone screamed. ‘Calvin! Where’s Officer Calvin?’
‘No –’ I spluttered, blood bubbling out of my mouth. My head hit the bricks again and this time I was sure it was splitting right open. I felt my eyes start to roll back into my head.
‘He’s coming,’ said another voice. ‘He’s running back with the …’ I woke up with the mother of all headaches and a bright white light shining down on my face.
‘Where am I?’ I croaked.
I pushed down against the mattress beneath me, trying to sit up. Pain ripped through my head and I collapsed back onto the bed, gasping.
‘Easy there,’ said a calm voice from somewhere nearby.
I blinked my eyes, squinting at the harsh whiteness around me, and the room slowly came into focus.
I was lying in a hospital bed. A man with a beard was smiling down at me.
‘No sudden movements, Luke,’ he said. ‘You took quite a beating back there.’
There was a mechanical whirring noise as the doctor adjusted the bed, shifting me up into something closer to a sitting position. From here, I could see three other beds, all of them empty.
‘I’m Doctor Robert Montag,’ he said, bringing over a glass of water, ‘Head Physician here at Phoenix Medical.’
He took two white tablets out of a plastic jar and handed them to me.
‘What’s this?’ I asked. I suddenly realised how dry my throat was.
‘Panadeine,’ said Dr Montag. ‘For your head.’
I swallowed the painkillers and handed the empty glass back to the doctor. ‘What about Jordan?’ I said, remembering. ‘She was –’
‘She’s fine,’ said Dr Montag reassuringly. ‘And so are you, all things considered. You were unconscious for less than half an hour. You’ve got a mild concussion, a split lip, and some impressive-looking bruises, but that’s about the worst of it.’
‘And Crazy Bill?’ I added, wincing.
‘Sitting in a holding cell in the security centre,’ said Dr Montag. ‘Let me tell you, you’re very fortunate to be in such good shape after a run-in with that man. Not everyone who’s met him has come away with such minor injuries. I’ve got a security guard next door who’s still fighting for his life.’
The bed whirred again and in a few seconds I was lying down.
‘You, on the other hand,’ said Dr Montag, ‘should be out of here by this time tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘I’d like to keep you here overnight, just to be on the safe side. Your parents have been informed, and they can –’
‘Parent,’ I corrected.
‘Sorry?’
‘My parents are divorced. Dad doesn’t live here.’
Dr Montag’s smile flickered. ‘Oh. I’m sorry,’ he said.
The longer my eyes stayed open, the more I felt like throwing up. I closed them again and rolled over onto my side. I swallowed, trying to keep the bile down.
‘You, uh, also have a couple of visitors waiting outside who’d like to see you for a few minutes, if you’re feeling up to it,’ said Dr Montag.
‘Mmhmm,’ I said, already on the verge of sleep again.
But then I heard slow footsteps and the sound of a crutch tapping along on the lino. Officer Calvin was hobbling into the room. Ms Pryor was right behind him. My stomach plummeted. Now what?
‘Close the door on your way out, will you, Rob?’ Calvin said.
‘Hmm?’ said Dr Montag. ‘Oh. Yes, of course.’ He disappeared from the room, pulling the door shut behind him.
Ms Pryor pulled up a chair and sat down at my bedside in a not-very-convincing imitation of a concerned parent. ‘Hello, Luke,’ she said. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘All right,’ I said, opening my eyes again and trying to keep my voice even.
‘We’d like to ask you a few questions about what happened this morning, if we may,’ said Calvin, standing next to Ms Pryor. There were plenty of other seats in the room, but he seemed to prefer towering over the top of me.
I guess he was trying to be intimidating. It was working.
‘Why did Crazy Bill attack you this morning?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know.’
For once, playing dumb and being honest were pretty much the same thing.
‘All right,’ said Calvin, clearly not buying it. ‘Why do you think he attacked you?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said again. ‘We were just talking.’
‘You were talking to him?’ said Ms Pryor. ‘After both Officer Calvin and I specifically warned –’ ‘No!’ I said hurriedly.
‘No, I wasn’t, I was talking to Jordan.’
‘Oh,’ said Ms Pryor, leaning closer. ‘And what were you and Jordan talking about?’
‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘I mean, nothing to make Crazy Bill want to attack me. I was just at her place last night, and we found out that her mum’s having a –’
I stopped mid-sentence. I was sore and groggy and it was hard to keep straight in my head what was safe to tell them and what wasn’t.
‘– having a hard time settling in,’ I finished. ‘You know, moving away from her family and friends and everything. Jordan just wanted someone to talk to about it.’
‘I see,’ said Ms Pryor slowly, eyebrows raised. ‘And then, for no reason, you were attacked?’
‘I guess.’
‘Do you expect us to believe,’ said Calvin, looming over me, ‘that this incident is completely unrelated to your meeting at the airport last Sunday? That you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong person, twice?’
‘I don’t know,’ I groaned, closing my eyes, wishing they would both just disappear. ‘I don’t know what he wants. Haven’t you caught him now? Why don’t you ask him why he attacked me?’
‘I’m sure Officer Calvin intends to do exactly that,’ said Ms Pryor, ‘but as you can no doubt appreciate, it’s important for us to hear your side of the story as well.’
‘A crazy homeless man ran up and punched my face in for no reason,’ I said. ‘That’s my side of the story.’
Calvin looked like he was about to shout at me, but Ms Pryor stopped him with a sideways glance.
‘Luke,’ she said gently, ‘please understand that Officer Calvin and I are on your side in all of this. We want to bring your attacker to justice, but to do that, we need to have a complete and accurate picture of the events leading up to the attack. We need you to tell us everything you know.’
‘That is everything I know,’ I said firmly.
Calvin stared down his broken nose at me. ‘All right,’ he said, eventually. ‘I’ll give you the rest of the week to think about it. I’ll be in touch after I’ve spoken to Bill.’
He turned and began making his way toward the door. Ms Pryor rushed to open it for him.
‘If you happen to recall any other information that might be of assistance –’ she called over her shoulder.
‘Yeah,’ I lied. ‘I’ll let you k
now.’
I didn’t see Calvin or Pryor again for the rest of the day.
I slept away most of the morning and woke up feeling much more human. My face still ached from all the scrapes and bruises, but the headaches were fading and so was the urge to throw up every time I moved.
Jordan dropped in to see me after school, but between the security cameras on the walls and the steady stream of doctors and nurses, we didn’t feel comfortable discussing any of the things we really wanted to talk about.
Peter came by soon afterwards. He asked how I was going, then quickly launched into a story about how he’d tried all day to ask Jordan about the baby and how her mum was feeling, but for some reason she hadn’t wanted to talk to him about it. I tried to be as supportive as I could without moving my head.
It was almost dark by the time Mum arrived at the medical centre. I heard her storming up the corridor, shouting at any nurse unlucky enough to get in her way. It turned out she hadn’t got the message about me being there until five minutes after she finished work. So she’d run straight over and, as usual, began looking for someone to blame.
I could hear Dr Montag trying to convince her that it probably wasn’t necessary to sue anyone over this, and she finally came in to see me. She asked most of the same questions that Calvin and Ms Pryor had, but at least she believed me when I said I had no idea why I’d been attacked.
Mum disappeared for a while, then came back in with a change of clothes and a toothbrush and stuff for me.
‘Let’s go out for dinner tomorrow night,’ she said, laying the clothes out on the chair next to my bed. ‘I feel like I’ve hardly seen you this week.’
Yeah, whose fault is that? I thought bitterly. But I shoved the thought aside. ‘Sounds good,’ I said.
‘Great,’ said Mum. ‘Where would you like to go?’
‘You pick.’ To be honest, after a week and a half of macaroni and pizza, I would much rather have stayed at home and eaten something out of our own oven. But at least she was making the effort to do something together.
‘How about one of those cafés out near the park?’ she suggested. ‘I hear Cusumano’s does great pasta.’
‘Sure.’
Arrival Page 10
