None Shall Sleep (Damnatio Memoriae Book 1)

by Laura Giebfried

  “Then perhaps he wouldn’t mind telling me what provoked him to attack Mr. Wynne?”

  “That hardly matters. And as I said, Enim didn’t attack anyone. He and Julian got into a fight – these things happen. Unfortunately for Julian, he lost.”

  “Unfortunately for Enim, he won,” Barker countered. “As I said before, Karl, I can’t have this type of thing happening at my school. What am I supposed to tell the boy’s parents?”

  “Perhaps you could suggest enrolling him in a defense class.”

  “Karl, that’s not – you’re missing the point! Enim is unstable! He’s dangerous! This is the final straw for him, I’m afraid. He’s been in too much trouble: he has to go!”

  “He’s not going anywhere. He’s done nothing wrong.”

  “He attacked –”

  “He didn’t attack anyone –”

  “This is ridiculous. We shouldn’t even have to discuss this, Karl: I thought that you would be on the same page as me here.”

  “I thought we would be as well. Evidently that’s not the case.”

  “You thought I would just let this slide? Now I’m just insulted, Karl. You’re abusing the terms of our agreement.”

  “Contrarily, you’re failing to hold up your end. We agreed that Enim would finish the year.”

  “We agreed that he wouldn’t be in any more trouble!”

  “You know the reason for this behavior, Charles. You know that this is a result of –”

  “Enough! Enough! You can’t blame this one on what happened to his mother! You can’t even blame it on that friend of his – I was told he acted completely on his own this time –”

  “As I said, he was simply defending himself …”

  “In no way is bashing a book against another student’s face defense, Karl – please stop insulting my intelligence!” Barker yelled, slamming his fist upon the desk. “I can’t continue to house Enim here – this isn’t a mental institution! I can’t let unstable, violent young men run loose–”

  “Hold on,” Karl cut in angrily. “He’s not unstable. He got into a fight – one fight in his entire career here. Plenty of boys have been given a pass for doing worse.”

  “Plenty of normal boys have. But Enim – he’s – he’s –” Barker looked at my blank expression and shook his head several times in a row. “He has problems, Karl! I’ve tried to ignore it, but I don’t think I can anymore. My students and staff need to be protected!”

  “Protected from what?” Karl asked, glancing sidelong at my withered appearance.

  “From his outbursts –”

  “He doesn’t have outbursts –”

  “He does, Karl! He does! He had one in this very office the last time we tried to have a discussion. He’s undoubtedly dangerous –”

  “That’s just ridiculous,” Karl scoffed.

  “Is it? I don’t have to tell you how many school shootings happen because no one stepped in and got the troubled child help, do I?”

  “That’s hardly what’s going to happen. Enim isn’t violent!”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because – I’m his uncle, for Christ’s sakes!”

  “Oh, come now, Karl. You’ve been his guardian for less than a year. I’ve had dogs for longer periods that’ve turned violent unsuspectingly –”

  “He’s not violent!”

  “I know that you don’t believe me, Karl. Sometimes it’s hard for parents – or guardians – to see that their child needs help.”

  Karl bit his tongue and smoothed down the front of his dress shirt in an effort to compose himself.

  “Enim is normal.”

  “That’s your opinion, Karl, but –”

  “I can prove it.”

  “What?” Barker looked him up and down as though waiting to be presented with a board of evidence. “How?”

  “I’ve asked his psychiatrist to join us.” He turned to the door and pulled it open. “Erik, would you mind coming in here?”

  My neck cracked as I turned my head in surprise that Karl had willingly called Beringer there, but I dropped my eyes back down as he entered the room. I vaguely wondered if he would backtrack on his statement that we were anything alike and that there was nothing wrong with me: I was certain that he had never caused so much trouble.

  Barker stared at the psychiatrist with his mouth agape.

  “I – what is this? This was supposed to be between the two of us, Karl ...”

  “I thought that Dr. Beringer might be able to shed some light on the situation,” Karl said. “Don’t worry, he’s been filled in already.”

  “Has he?” Barker gave Beringer a cold look. “And what do you make of young men who are dangerous and unstable, Doctor Beringer?”

  Beringer gave a polite inclination of his head.

  “It’s my opinion that Enim is neither dangerous nor unstable.”

  “Really? You think attacking another student is completely normal?”

  “Under these circumstances, yes I do.”

  “These circumstances?” The headmaster’s eyes flickered between the two men warily. “This young man attacked another student – he beat another boy to the ground! That’s not normal behavior!”

  “Actually, Mr. Barker, violence amongst adolescent males is quite the opposite,” Beringer said calmly. “I’m sure that as an educator you’ve seen your fair share of fights here and there between students.”

  “I – well, yes – but not like this!”

  “Like what?”

  “Like – well, with this severity! Dr. Beringer, I can’t believe that you’re giving this boy a pass. He’s your responsibility, you know – if he was to hurt anyone –”

  “He hasn’t hurt anyone; not profoundly. Nor have I been given any indication that he’s going to.”

  “No indication? You sound as bad as Karl, here! He beat a student –”

  “It was a minor altercation. Have you even spoken to the other student about this? He might very well admit that he was the one in the wrong in this situation.”

  “Forget this incident, then!” Barker barked. He looked angrier than I had ever seen him, and I could finally see a glimpse of the man who had murdered all of those girls and Miss Mercier. “What about last year’s? What about when he and John Hadler ripped down the Bickerby shield and burned an opossum on it in some sick, satanic cult offering?”

  His loud voice hummed around the silent room long after he was done shouting. Karl had dropped his gaze, evidently at a loss for how to explain the infamous stunt that Jack and I had pulled, but Beringer cleared his throat thoughtfully.

  “Like I said,” he began quietly, “many adolescent males experiment in these types of situations. It’s a way of expressing control over their surroundings ...”

  “That’s your excuse?” Barker said disbelievingly. “That boys will be boys? Come now, Beringer – the boy’s been sick for a long time – why else does he need a psychiatrist?”

  “Erik’s reasons for seeing Enim have nothing to do with the situation at hand, nor – should I hope – would they have any bearing on his academic standing,” Karl cut in. He gave the headmaster a cold look. “If that was the reason for his expulsion, you would have a lawsuit on your hands, Charles.”

  Barker’s face reddened against the dark-green leather chair.

  “This boy tortures animals by burning them alive, attacks a fellow classmate – and you’re suggesting that I’m treating him unfairly?”

  When Karl made no response, I took the opportunity to say, “I didn’t burn it alive.”

  My voice went through the room like a shock of static. The three adults jumped and looked over at me as though surprised that I was still there.

  “I suppose you’re going to blame it all on Hadler, then?” Barker said upon finding his voice. “It was his idea, was it, to light the animal on fire? That’s fine. He showed you how to do it, did he? Gave you a taste for killing?”

  I sucked in my cheeks in a hollowe
d glare at the thought of Barker’s own tastes for murder.

  “No,” I said. “Neither of us killed it: it was already dead. We just found it lying in the woods and thought we’d ... give it a proper burial.”

  Barker looked disgusted at the idea. Unlike Karl and Beringer, he had seen the aftermath of the proclaimed burial service that we had given to the opossum. The sight of the scorched, blackened corpse lying in the middle of the ruined Bickerby shield had been something of an unforgettable sight, though I rather thought that what appalled him most was the damage to school property. My face twitched as I looked at him. The silence in the room teemed as it waited to be broken.

  “Well,” Beringer said at last, “I think that that explains quite a bit. The creature was already dead when Enim and Jack ... cremated it.”

  I saw Karl’s eyebrows rise momentarily at the absurdity of the defense that I was receiving, but he nodded in agreement. Barker looked more appalled than ever.

  “Is that what you think, Beringer? That the thing being dead already makes it all right?” He looked at each of us in turn with an expression of disbelief. “Should I have my students partake in these sadistic activities weekly, then, seeing as they’re evidently healthy for young men? Should I have them scour the forests for dead squirrels and birds so that they can each have the experience of flambéing it until it turns to ashes?”

  “I’m not saying that what Enim and Jack did was right. You asked me if Enim was a danger to your students. I’m giving you my opinion and telling you that no, I do not believe he is.”

  “But is that your professional or personal opinion, Beringer?” Barker asked. “Because it sounds to me as though you’re willing to overlook his problems because you’re keen to continue receiving a hefty paycheck from his father for treating him.”

  “That’s absurd,” Beringer said coldly, and the sheer tone of his voice was enough to make Barker’s tongue roll back before he shut his mouth.

  Karl was gazing at Beringer peculiarly. His eyes lingered on the psychiatrist’s face for a moment too long as though waiting to see something different there, though I couldn’t think of what.

  “Very well, then,” Barker said at last. His displeasure was so unmistakable that I was surprised Karl and Beringer continued to look composed. Yet the thought of being sued for dismissing me unjustly appeared to be too much for him, and he said, “If this was truly a one-time occurrence, I suppose that it’s ... only fair Enim gets another chance.”

  He looked over at me, and in the reflection of his irises I could see Miss Mercier’s hewed body and the dead girls floating in the water.

  “This meeting is over. I trust that you can find the door.”

  I stood and stepped from the room with Karl and Beringer close behind me. When we paused in the hallway a moment later, both men opened their mouths to speak, but stopped upon realizing that the other was still there. They shared an unreadable look and then Beringer bowed out of the conversation and retreated down the hall.

  Karl crossed his arms.

  “Enim –”

  “I know,” I said. “I know you’re angry.”

  He gave me a discontented look and shook his head.

  “No, I’m – I’m disappointed,” he said. “I thought that you understood what’s at stake here and why you couldn’t get into any more trouble.”

  He waited for me to speak, but I only stared at the floor. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

  “Alright, then. I should go.”

  Although we were headed in the same direction, he turned from me and walked to the door alone. I stared silently after him. My bag felt heavier on my back with the French teacher’s file within it. I stood for another moment, lost somewhere between thought and reality, and then hurried outside as well. The Welcoming Building had never felt less hospitable.

  As I walked back to my residence building, not even the cold air on my face could awaken me. My thoughts were distorted by the tangled images of Julian’s bloodied face and Miss Mercier’s broken body that had been juxtaposed in my mind. Whenever my feet trampled over something, I jumped back in fear that I had stumbled over another girl’s lifeless body, and with every noise beyond the trees I expected to find Barker waiting for me upon realizing what I had stolen from him. I glanced around the dead foliage in the Center Garden fearfully, shaking in the falling snow.

  Reaching the residence building at last, I disappeared inside and ran up the stairs to the fourth floor. The halls were oddly silent given the hour. I hastened past Julian’s closed door and went to my own. My heart had begun to pound again. Fumbling with the keys in my cold, sore hands, I finally managed to open the door and get inside.

  “Nim?” Jack sat up as I entered. “What’s going on? What happened?”

  “It’s fine. I didn’t get expelled.”

  “But what happened?” He slid to the edge of the bed and stared over at me. “Trask came up here shouting about how you’d attacked Wynne, and Collins said he saw the whole thing –”

  “I did.”

  I sank down on my mattress and leaned my chin against my hands tiredly. Any momentary delight that I had felt upon seeing Miss Mercier’s file hidden in with the students’ had long since gone, and the realization that I would have to show Jack what I had found left a hollow weight in my stomach.

  “But what happened? Did he say something? Because I’ll break his –”

  “He didn’t do anything,” I said. “I hit him on purpose. I wanted to get sent to Barker’s.”

  “But – what?”

  “I wanted to get sent there – you know, to look around for evidence and whatnot.”

  “You smashed Wynne’s face so you could snoop through Barker’s things?” Jack looked as though he didn’t know whether to be outraged or impressed. “Nim, we could’ve broken in through the window way more easily – I just didn’t want you to get expelled if we were caught.”

  As I let out a groan, he crossed the room to sit next to me on my bed.

  “So how didn’t you get expelled?” he said. “What’d Karl do this time? Buy Barker a private helicopter?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You don’t have to double-up sessions with Beringer or something, do you? Or join the horticulture club?”

  “No, it’s ... it’s not that.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  I raised my eyes to look over at him. There was only ever the occasional hint of carefreeness on his face now, and I was afraid that showing him the file would erase it altogether. Yet the only chance of giving him any rest would be to have Barker held responsible for all he had done. I reached down to my bag for the file.

  “I have to show you something.”

  “What is it?”

  “I found this in Barker’s office,” I said unsteadily. “And I ... I think it proves it.”

  “Proves ...?”

  “Proves that it was him.” I looked at him carefully. “I ... It’s not good, Jack.”

  He took it cautiously and turned through the pages, slowing as he reached the report to read through it carefully. When he reached the photographs, his breathing turned ragged though he managed to keep his voice even.

  “Barker had this?”

  “In his office.”

  As he lowered his head into his hand, Dictionary sidled onto the bed to sit on his lap. She laid her head upon the horrific photographs to shield them from view and gave a soft, lamenting mew for the woman she had once known. I shut my eyes as I listened to it, suddenly aware of how quiet the world had become.

  “What are we going to do?” I said. “Give it to the police?”

  “What? No.” He shook his head firmly. “No, the police are in Barker’s control.”

  “So who then? Do we bring it to another teacher, or the mainland, or ...?”

  “No, Nim – we can’t bring it to anyone.”

  He shut the folder and held it in his hands as though afraid that I might run off with it.r />
  “But ... how are we going to get Barker, then?” I asked.

  “By ourselves – our own way.”

  I looked at him cautiously, unsure of what he was suggesting.

  “You mean ...?”

  “I mean that we’ll take care of him ourselves,” Jack repeated, though he didn’t give any more details. “Look, Nim – if we bring this to anyone, who would believe us? What would we even say? ‘Hi, we’ve been investigating the murder of one of our teachers, and in the process we realized that our headmaster is a serial killer?’ It sounds insane.”

  “But it’s true.”

  “What good’s the truth if no one believes it?”

  I stared at the smooth ivory-colored finish on the folder. Jack stood and hid it behind the desk.

  “Listen to me, Nim: bringing this to the police wouldn’t help anyone. Why do you think Miss Mercier kept her mouth shut? She knew that no one would listen to her, and she was a hell-of-a-lot-of more believable than we’ll ever be.”

  “I know, but ...”

  “Look, don’t worry about it right now, alright? I’ll figure out how we’ll take care of Barker.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  He acknowledged my concern with a look but didn’t respond, choosing instead to take out his original folder of notes and bringing it over to me.

  “There’s something else that’s been bothering me about all this.”

  He took out the map with the girls’ routes highlighted and laid it flat so I could see it.

  “The girls’ routes make sense,” he said. “But Miss Mercier’s has been bothering me. Look at where she’s going. Why would she run from her house and into the woods?”

  “Because Barker showed up at her house.”

  “I get that. But why does she run through the woods and back towards Bickerby?”

  “Well, she had just gotten home, hadn’t she? So maybe she was running back to see if anyone else was leaving Bickerby.”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t make sense. I mean, if someone was chasing you with a knife wouldn’t you run to the closest person you could? Why would she run into the woods instead of to one of her neighbors’ houses?”

  I ran my hand through my hair. Karl was right: it was much too long now. It was all I could do to keep it out of my eyes. I was surprised that he hadn’t insisted upon taking me to get it trimmed.