Mutation

by Chris Morphew

  Peter stared at Shackleton’s outstretched hand. He glanced over at me, lost. Then he took the handkerchief and slowly began wiping the worst of the blood out from between his fingers.

  I watched, skin crawling.

  Pryor was looking impatient, but she knew better than to try to hurry things along.

  Finally, Peter balled up the handkerchief and let his hands drop by his sides.

  Shackleton smiled. ‘Isn’t that better?’

  ‘Sir –’ said Pryor, but Shackleton held up a hand.

  ‘Now then,’ he said to Peter. ‘Would you care to remind me of the agreement we made a fortnight ago when you and your friends last visited my offices?’

  A long silence. Then, still not looking up, Peter said, ‘You told us … not to tell anyone what we knew … and not to do anything to … not to do anything to make people suspicious.’

  ‘I believe my precise words were spend the next seventy days quietly attending to your schoolwork and do not put one foot out of line,’ said Shackleton in a tone like he was giving Peter half marks on a maths question. ‘But yes, I believe you’ve grasped the gist of it.’

  I closed my eyes, holding down the crippling dread, trying to come up with something to swing things back into our favour.

  ‘However,’ Shackleton continued, ‘given that your principal does not usually call upon me to intervene in matters of school discipline – especially those which reflect so poorly on her capacity to maintain order –’ he added pointedly, ‘I can only assume that Ms Pryor is of the opinion that you have now violated our agreement. I trust you recall the consequences of such a violation?’

  Peter nodded.

  ‘You do,’ said Shackleton. ‘In that case, your actions today would seem particularly foolhardy – especially given that your friend Jordan’s younger sister is currently in our custody at the medical centre. It would be only too easy for something unfortunate –’

  ‘You stay away from her!’ I said.

  ‘Jordan,’ said Shackleton, turning, ‘you are in a poor position to be making demands.’

  ‘Ask Dr Montag what started all this!’ I said desperately. ‘Ask him why Peter blew up at Mr Hanger.’

  Shackleton reeled back, a caricature of shock. He raised an eyebrow at Dr Montag. ‘Rob?’

  ‘Sir,’ said Montag, ‘Peter’s reaction was completely disproportionate to any –’

  ‘He attacked me in the blood test booth!’ I said, swinging a hand out at Montag.

  ‘Is this true?’ asked Shackleton.

  Luke opened his mouth to speak, but Peter jumped in first.

  ‘Of course it’s bloody true,’ he said, firing up again. ‘Ask the fifty kids who saw it happen!’

  No fake surprise this time. Shackleton rounded on Montag. ‘How much of a problem is this going to be?’

  ‘The students only saw a fraction of it,’ the doctor said hurriedly. ‘A few seconds at most.’

  ‘And the beating of the teacher?’

  ‘They saw the whole thing, but Melinda sent them out as soon as she arrived.’

  ‘Good,’ said Shackleton. ‘Contact Brian as soon as we’re finished here. I want the write-up ready for this afternoon’s Herald. Two known delinquents refuse to take part in blood testing, become violent, attack teaching staff and medical personnel. Despite everyone’s best efforts, the incident ends in tragedy.’

  I thought tragedy was a bit strong. What Peter had done to Mr Hanger was horrific, but the nurse had said he’d be okay.

  ‘I want quotes from anonymous students and a nice, close photograph of the injured staff member,’ Shackleton said. ‘Let them see the damage. Give me a shot of Peter, too.’

  Montag nodded. ‘Front page?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Shackleton. ‘And Rob, please ensure Brian understands the importance of making the correct version of events available to the public.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ said Peter. ‘As if people are going to believe –’

  ‘I think you’ll find that people will believe what we tell them to believe,’ said Shackleton, reaching into his suit pocket. ‘Especially under the circumstances.’

  ‘What circumstances?’ asked Peter.

  Shackleton put a finger to his lips and pulled out his phone. He went around behind Pryor’s desk and sat back in her chair with the phone held up to his ear.

  I started towards the desk. If he did anything to my sister –

  ‘I wouldn’t,’ Montag warned.

  Shackleton’s eyes lit up. ‘Tori, how are you? … No. No, it was nothing serious. Just some trouble down at the school …’ Shackleton chuckled. ‘No, nothing like that … I assume we’re still on for dinner this evening? … Lovely. Listen Tori, would you mind stepping into my office for a moment? I need you to activate Peter Weir’s suppressor for me.’

  He said it so casually that it took me a second to even process it.

  And then I snapped, bolting across the tiles, almost tripping over the rolled-up rug.

  ‘No!’

  Montag grabbed me from behind.

  Peter was quicker. He dived across Pryor’s desk. Shackleton rolled back in his chair, still talking into the phone. ‘Yes – quick as you can please, Tori.’

  A second later, the phone went clattering across the desk as Peter made another lunge, knocking Shackleton and the chair over backwards.

  Montag had his arms bent up under mine, locking my shoulders back against his chest. I jumped up and tucked in my legs, dropping like a rock. Montag lurched forward under the sudden weight, but didn’t let go.

  ‘Do you want to be next?’ he hissed. ‘I’m sure Mr Shackleton could arrange it.’

  Pryor and Luke were both at the desk by now, staring down from opposite ends. But before either of them had the chance to do anything, Peter had dragged Shackleton up by his jacket and shoved him down on top of the desk.

  ‘CALL HER BACK!’ he shouted, high-pitched with desperation. ‘Call her back and tell her not to do it!’

  Shackleton coughed. ‘I’m afraid it’s too late for that.’

  ‘No! You call her off!’ Tears were pouring down Peter’s face. He snatched the phone off the table and slapped it into the side of Shackleton’s head. ‘You CALL her! I won’t spend the rest of my life in a freaking –’

  Peter’s pleading turned into a deafening, wordless scream as the suppressor kicked in. He stumbled, teeth clenched, eyes closed, then cried out again and fell to the ground behind Pryor’s desk.

  Shackleton got up, massaging his back, and said, ‘I really am sorry.’

  Luke reached down to help, then recoiled as Peter batted him away.

  Peter grabbed Pryor’s desk with both hands. He launched himself at Shackleton, spewing obscenities, raging and begging until it was all drowned out in another gut-wrenching scream.

  Montag’s grip on me began to loosen, and I finally kicked my way free of him. But it was already over. Nothing to do but stand and watch.

  Peter staggered back, out into the middle of the room, legs failing again. I swept forward and caught him around the waist, holding him up.

  ‘The pain will be over soon,’ said Shackleton, smoothing down his hair. ‘Fifteen minutes and you won’t feel a thing.’

  Peter stopped shouting to take a breath, and I heard the bell ringing out in the playground.

  ‘My goodness,’ said Shackleton, eyes flitting between Luke and me. ‘Recess already. I suppose you two had better be off.’

  ‘If you think we’re just going to leave him here with you –’

  ‘I believe you know what your alternative is,’ said Shackleton, bending down to retrieve his phone.

  Dr Montag reached out to take Peter.

  Peter looked up at me, eyes unfocused, full of fear. ‘Jordan …’

  But staying here and getting paralysed too wasn’t going to help him.

  I stared at the doc, looking for some trace of humanity.

  Nothing.

  ‘You bastard,’ I breath
ed, hefting Peter into his arms.

  Pryor pulled her office door open a crack, looked both ways along the corridor, then ushered the two of us outside.

  Chapter 18

  FRIDAY, JUNE 19

  55 DAYS

  ‘Despite the best efforts of teaching staff and medical centre personnel to restrain the student, the incident continued to escalate until, while attempting to resist capture, Weir fell from a piece of gym apparatus, sustaining serious back injuries. The youth is currently being treated in Phoenix Medical, but doctors fear that the damage to his spinal column may be irreparable.’

  Luke threw down the newspaper.

  We were sitting outside Flameburger, watching the doors to the medical centre. As soon as school finished, we’d tried to get in to see Peter. But, of course, Montag had left orders for us not to be allowed in.

  My elbows dug into the table, hands nursing my throbbing head. I’d spent the whole day just trying to hold myself together, avoiding the stream of kids hammering me for every gory detail of the attack.

  Even now, they were staring over from the other tables. I could hear them whispering, daring each other to come over and talk to me. I’d never seen so many of them reading the newspaper.

  It was just like Shackleton had predicted. Even the kids who had seen it all happen seemed to be swallowing the Herald’s version of the story. They’d all been so well trained to think the worst of us that they were more than willing to believe Peter had brought his injuries upon himself. To believe I was some doctor-attacking psychopath.

  ‘They saw him stand up,’ said Luke, eyes down on the pile of cold chips in front of him. ‘He let go of Hanger and he stood up.’

  ‘Yeah, but then Pryor sent them all out,’ I said. ‘Anything could have happened after that.’

  The problem was, Shackleton’s story kind of made sense. It was reality that was hard to swallow.

  I gazed back over at the medical centre, barely seeing it. I could feel the tears coming again.

  We’d left him. We’d left him behind and let Shackleton take him away.

  ‘We had a fight last night,’ I said.

  Luke looked up. ‘You and Peter?’

  ‘He left me a note. Wanted me to meet him out behind the school. But he didn’t tell me it was him. So I went out there and …’

  I hesitated. Somehow it didn’t feel right to tell Luke the whole story.

  ‘I overreacted,’ I said. ‘He blew up. And then security chased us off before we could talk about any of it. And then he came to school all angry, and –’

  Luke stared across the table at me. ‘This isn’t your fault, Jordan.’

  ‘Who tore down that curtain?’ I said. ‘Who was Peter trying to protect when he –?’

  ‘When he smashed Hanger’s face in?’ said Luke. ‘Jordan, this didn’t happen because you ripped a curtain. What Peter did today, that wasn’t normal anger. This has been coming for a while.’

  I put my head back down in my hands. ‘We need to get him out of there,’ I said.

  ‘They’ll let him out eventually,’ said Luke. ‘They just need to keep him long enough to back up their story.’ He glanced over at the medical centre. ‘Uh-oh.’

  Officer Calvin was walking up the steps.

  He didn’t look happy.

  Then again, Calvin pretty much never looked happy unless he was pointing a gun at someone.

  For about five seconds, I wondered what he was up to. Then the medical centre doors slid open and I lost interest completely. Dad had just walked out, carrying Georgia on his back. He brushed past Calvin and continued down the stairs.

  ‘I’ll email you,’ I said, leaving Luke at the table.

  I was over there almost before Dad’s foot left the bottom step, doing my best to look like I hadn’t just been through a trauma.

  ‘Jordan!’ said Georgia, swinging down off Dad’s back for a hug.

  ‘Hey, Georgia,’ I said. ‘How was hospital?’

  ‘Boring,’ she said heavily, rolling her eyes.

  It was the best answer I could have asked for. Warmth surged back into my body – then retreated again as I saw the look on Dad’s face.

  ‘Everything okay?’ I asked.

  ‘Hard to say,’ he muttered, starting towards home. ‘They told us she’s fine. But that’s about all they told us. What about you? The nurses were talking about a fight at the school. I saw one of your teachers come in with a broken nose.’

  ‘Guess what,’ said Georgia.

  ‘Mr Hanger,’ I said. ‘Yeah, he was – He got beat up pretty bad.’

  Then, thinking it was better for him to hear it from me: ‘Did they tell you I was involved? That I was refusing to take the blood test?’

  ‘Yes, they did.’ said Dad slowly. ‘But that’s not what really happened, is it?’

  My head started pounding again. ‘What?’

  ‘Jordan, if you didn’t take the blood test, then why do you have that band-aid on your arm?’

  I gaped at him, grasping for an explanation, but it was like there was a drum beating in my brain.

  ‘Guess what,’ said Georgia again.

  ‘Why do you keep taking the blame for all this?’ Dad pressed. ‘If you’re doing this to keep someone else out of trouble …’

  ‘No – I’m not – I was just …’ I trailed off, wishing Luke and I had spent more time getting our story worked out.

  ‘I don’t know where the Herald is getting its information, but it’s time someone set them straight.’

  ‘No – Dad, it’s okay,’ I said, ignoring the sudden temperature drop in my insides. ‘It doesn’t bother me. I mean, as long as you and Mum know it’s not true, why would I care?’

  ‘It bothers me,’ said Dad. ‘Someone’s getting away with this stuff at your expense. It isn’t right.’

  ‘Dad, seriously, it’s not a big deal.’

  ‘Jordan!’ shouted Georgia. ‘I said, guess what!’

  ‘What?’ I said.

  ‘We’re going home to Brisbane!’

  Dad looked at me. ‘I assume Mum’s talked to you?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, grateful for the interruption. ‘Have you booked a flight yet?’

  ‘Hopefully,’ said Dad. ‘Mum was going to sort it out this morning.’

  Which means she’s argued with every possible person by now, I thought. And been knocked back by all of them.

  We turned off at the park and headed up the street to our house.

  ‘What about Max?’ said Georgia.

  ‘You can send him postcards from Brisbane,’ said Dad. ‘And he can come and visit anytime he wants.’

  ‘What about Luke?’

  ‘Luke?’ said Dad. ‘Jordan’s friend Luke?’

  ‘Yeah. If we move away, then how will they get married?’

  She stared at up at me, grinning wildly.

  Dad raised an eyebrow. ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.’

  Our house came into view and Georgia wriggled down from my arms, running the rest of the way to the front door. By the time Dad and I caught up, the door was already open and she was pressing her hands against Mum’s stomach.

  ‘Whoa, Mum,’ she said. ‘Your baby is getting so fat!’

  ‘How is she?’ Mum asked. ‘Anything new?’

  ‘Not since my email,’ said Dad.

  ‘Hey, baby, I hope you don’t get too fat,’ said Georgia, speaking into Mum’s bellybutton. ‘You might squash yourself!’

  ‘Seems normal to me,’ said Mum. She smiled and turned back into the house.

  ‘Did you book the flights?’ asked Dad, following.

  Mum groaned. ‘I tried everything. I even tracked down Aaron Ketterley in town! Apparently, they’re booked solid.’

  ‘For how long?’

  ‘I don’t know. Indefinitely.’ Mum dropped onto the couch. ‘Which doesn’t even make sense. Think about it: who’s left Phoenix since we got here?’

  Dad thought. ‘There were those two security guar
ds who left a couple of weeks ago.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And … I don’t know.’

  ‘We’ve only been here a couple of months,’ I said, really not liking the direction this conversation was headed.

  ‘There must be something else wrong.’ said Mum. ‘A technical problem they don’t want to tell us about.’

  ‘Does the baby need a ticket?’ asked Georgia.

  ‘No, sweetheart,’ said Mum. ‘The baby gets to ride with me.’

  ‘And will Grandma and Grandpa come to the airport again?’

  Mum pulled her in for a hug. ‘I’m not sure, Georgia. We’ll see.’

  ‘I’m going to go and see Ketterley in the morning,’ said Dad. ‘Sort this out.’

  ‘Dad –’ I said, hating to think what might happen if they pushed this. ‘Why don’t you just wait? I mean, we can stick it out here for a bit longer, can’t we?’

  Mum looked at me like she was seeing something for the first time. ‘Jordan …’ she said slowly. ‘Do you know something we don’t?’

  ‘No!’ I said. ‘What would I –? I just think we should be careful. I mean, if they are covering something up about the flights …’

  Dad put an arm around me.

  ‘I’ll be careful,’ he promised. ‘But I won’t let my family be bullied.’

  I put my head on his shoulder, wishing there was some way to tell him just how big these bullies were.

  SATURDAY, JUNE 20

  54 DAYS

  This was bad.

  What if Ketterley thought Dad knew too much?

  What if he thought I’d told him?

  No. I wouldn’t. I would never put them in danger, and Shackleton knew it.

  He had to.

  I collapsed back against the tree, watching the people sitting in cafes all along the side of the mall, enjoying their Saturday like there was nothing wrong in the world.

  Why couldn’t my parents be like that?

  Dad’ll be fine, I told myself. He knows how to handle himself.

  I tried to push it aside and think about something else for a while. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw Peter screaming in pain. Or bodies bursting into nothingness. Or white-robed spectres coming to suck my brains out.

  I wished Luke would hurry up and get here.