In the chaotic hours after the attack, teachers herded the students into the darkened dining room and attempted to calm the panic. Staff carried in boxes of torches and handed them out, while nurses set up a triage in one corner. The injured queued to have their wounds bandaged, burns assessed and broken or sprained ankles splinted.
The room was generally clear of the choking smoke that lingered in the hallways, but the air was filled instead with the stifled weeping of students and the brutally efficient conversation of medical staff.
‘Hand me those bandages.’
‘This ankle needs an ice bath, you got one free?’
‘Antibiotic by injection.’
Lisa remained unconscious, and was carried away to the nursing ward by two silent members of staff. At first Jo and Allie insisted on going with her, fluttering around the stretcher like shrill birds. But Eloise convinced them to stay.
She had a smear of soot across one cheek, and still wore her little black dress. Although her shoes were long gone, her eyes were bright and tireless. ‘I promise you she’s going to be OK. She needs to rest. And we really need your help down here. Please tell me I can count on you.’
They nodded reluctantly, and she sent them upstairs to wash off the blood and change clothes.
As they climbed the stairs, the fearful rumble of the aftermath gradually faded into the pitch black silence of the dormitory wing. Jo held Allie’s hand. Allie’s head pounded, and her stomach was churning. She thought she might throw up.
When they separated at the top, Jo said, ‘It’s safe up here, right?’
‘She wouldn’t have sent us here otherwise,’ Allie replied, but her voice was uncertain.
‘OK. Be really, really fast. I’ll meet you in the bathroom.’
Allie opened her bedroom door slowly and flashed the light around to verify its emptiness. In the dark it felt foreign – as if it had no attachment to her at all and her belongings had been placed randomly. Hurrying across the room, she rifled through the dresser, grabbing whatever clothes came to hand.
Later, in a dark, cold shower lit only by a torch propped up against Jo’s borrowed silver kitten heels, she scrubbed the blood off her body fiercely. The cold and the water cleared her head, as if she were washing the whole night away. Jo waited for her by a sink, swinging her light around the room. Occasionally they called out to each other for reassurance.
‘Yep. You?’
‘I think so.’
When she was finished, Allie left the ruined white dress and the sparkly silver shoes in the shower changing room.
She and Jo hurried downstairs where the air of panic had transmuted into grim efficiency.
Torch beams bobbed down hallways as students carried scorched furniture out of the ballroom. Outside the back door a generator rumbled steadily, and thick black cables snaked down the corridor to the great hall where the Klieg lights they powered gave the still-smouldering space an unearthly glow.
Teachers armed with clipboards orchestrated the work. Some stood on chairs and called out instructions while others were sequestered in small, whispering groups around the walls.
Jo and Allie stood side by side, surveying the room.
‘Well, I guess we should find Eloise,’ Allie said, her voice shaky.
But instead of the librarian they found Isabelle perched perilously atop a rickety wooden chair, issuing orders calmly to the teachers and students who milled around. Her white dress was smudged with soot but otherwise perfect, although her hair had escaped from its clips and flowed in waves over her shoulders. She looked relieved to see them – especially Allie.
She crouched down to take her hands and pulled her closer. Speaking so quietly only Allie could hear she said, ‘I’m so sorry that you had to see that. Are you OK?’
As she looked into Isabelle’s concerned eyes a flood of conflicting emotions swept over Allie. She wanted to cry for Ruth and for herself. She wanted to hug the headmistress for caring. Instead, she willed her tears back and nodded to show she was fine. Giving Allie’s hands a final squeeze, Isabelle stood up again.
‘OK, you two,’ she said, businesslike again. Handing them a clipboard with a pencil connected to it with string, she continued, ‘I need to be sure that we know where everybody is. There are fifty-two students here this term altogether. Identify everybody you can find. Search the central ground floor – not the wings, not upstairs. Do not go outside under any circumstances.’
A group of teachers approached her, and she turned away to deal with them.
At first Allie and Jo were overwhelmed – it was so dark and people rushed by them in the haze. But then they came up with a system, ticking off names of everybody they’d already seen, then starting on students they didn’t recognise.
The work steadied their nerves. They wandered from room to room checking names off their list as the number of missing students dwindled. After about an hour electricity was restored, making their chore easier. The bitter burning smell lingered, but the air gradually cleared.
Throughout it all, Allie had a strange sense of distance – of watching herself on television as she moved around the school doing what had to be done. She couldn’t even feel her own exhaustion. Her body moved but she felt disconnected from its actions.
By the time the sun came up, about twenty-one students were still not ticked off their lists. These included Gabe, Carter, Sylvain, Jules and Lucas.
‘Where do you think they are?’ Allie asked.
‘Night School.’ Jo’s voice was weary as she rubbed her forehead. ‘They’re all Night School. We’ve looked everywhere – this is all we’re going to get. Let’s go and turn it in.’
After searching the dining room and the library, they found Isabelle with Jerry and Eloise in the empty great hall. The stench of scorched wood and plaster was thick and nauseating. The electricity was still out in here, and the generator had been turned off, so it was dim and hard to see. Faint ambient light coming in from the hallway shimmered on the smoke particles still dancing in the air. They looked, Allie thought, like tiny black crystals. She could see that one wall was entirely blackened as far up as the ceiling. Small piles of rubble still smouldered here and there. But otherwise, the room was less damaged than she’d expected.
Isabelle scanned the list quickly and handed it to Jerry who looked it over and nodded.
‘Thanks, you two,’ Isabelle said. ‘You did a brilliant job.’
‘But so many are still missing!’ Allie protested.
Isabelle had circles under her reddened eyes. She looked so tired Allie felt guilty for bothering her.
‘We know where they are, and they’re fine,’ she said, putting her arm around Allie. ‘Don’t worry about them.’
‘It’s all the Night School guys, right?’ Jo’s arms were crossed tightly across her chest.
‘You know we can’t talk about Night School with you, Jo. But I expect you also know the answer to your own question.’ Eloise’s voice was sharp.
Jo held her ground. ‘I’m sorry, Eloise, I just think it would be good if we were all a bit more honest right now than we usually are.’
Isabelle squeezed Allie’s shoulder gently and let go before turning to Jo. ‘And a lot of teachers would agree with you,’ she said, to Allie’s surprise. ‘But right now, we just have to get through the next twenty-four hours.’
‘How many people were … killed?’ Allie’s voice was small.
‘One, Allie.’ Isabelle’s voice was filled with sympathy. ‘And I’m so sorry you had to see that. If you want to talk about it with any of us – we’re here any time.’
Allie, who thought she could feel nothing, was surprised to feel a tear run down her cheek.
Where did that come from? she wondered, dashing it away.
As they walked away, Jerry squeezed her arm, and Eloise wrapped her in a warm hug.
‘Hang in there, lovely,’ she whispered.
When they’d gone Jo turned back to Isabelle. ‘How’s Lisa? Can we see her?’
‘She’s not awake yet. The doctor said she needs to rest.’ Isabelle looked at them with concern. ‘There’s some food in the dining room. I’d really like you to take a break and get something to eat. I’ll come find you there if we need you.’
Although it was hard to even imagine eating, at her insistence Jo and Allie headed down the dark hall. The dining room had a hushed, exhausted feel. It was early morning now, and light streamed with inappropriate cheeriness through the big windows. Tired, dirty students sat or slept at most tables – plates of half-eaten food in front of them. At one end of the room a buffet table was piled high with sandwiches, and big copper urns held steaming coffee and tea.
They stood in front of it, staring at the food. It just seemed weird to care about eating right now, but after filling their plates they found an unoccupied table; pushing aside the used cups and saucers to make room. For a while they ate in tired silence. Jo sat lotus-style, her white-blonde hair fluffed around her head in a disarrayed halo. Allie bent her leg to pull one foot up onto her seat and leaned her elbow on her knee. At rest, her face looked pale and worried. She finished a sandwich and pushed her plate away.
‘What did you see?’ She asked the question with no warning.
Jo looked puzzled for a second, then widened her eyes. ‘Last night?’
Allie nodded.
Jo put down her cup of tea, and her face clouded over. ‘Oh Allie it was crazy. Where were you, anyway? At first, everything was beautiful, you know? Gabe and I were dancing, and then suddenly there was a noise – like a big bang – and the lights went out. Then it all got really confusing because it was totally dark, everyone was running to where they thought the door was, and people were screaming that they couldn’t get out, and then a table got knocked over and the fire started, and the smoke was … awful. Just awful.
‘Gabe and I got down on the ground so that we could breathe, and made sort of air masks out of napkins. We got to where we were far from the fire, and then he said he had to go and see what was going on – like, why people weren’t getting out of the room. And then he was … gone.’
Allie waited for more, but Jo stopped and tore the crust of her sandwich into little pieces.
‘What happened then?’ she prodded.
‘It was dark. I could just … hear screaming, and the smoke was really bad. I think the door was locked or something, because suddenly there was a crashing sound and then there was fresh air, but that made the fire worse. Then people started putting the fire out with water and fire extinguishers, and people could get out, and then you walked in.’
Jo sighed and took another bite of her sandwich, but Allie could see she was now forcing herself to eat.
‘Have you seen Gabe since?’
Jo shook her head and a tear traced down her cheek. ‘I’m trying not to be stupid. Eloise says everyone’s fine, so he’s fine. He just … left me there. In a fire.’
She hid her face in her hands, and Allie could tell that she was crying.
‘Oh babe.’ Allie reached out to squeeze her arm and tried to think of something to say. ‘He made sure you were safe first, right? That was the very first thing he did. And, you know what? He has faith that you’re tough, and you can take care of yourself. And that’s kind of cool.’
Jo nodded, although she was clearly still unconvinced, then she closed her eyes and leaned on her elbow. ‘I’m so tired.’
Allie scooted her chair closer and pulled Jo’s head onto her shoulder. ‘Me too.’
In a few moments, they were both asleep, their arms wrapped around each other.
*
The sound of movement woke them a short while later. The Night School group had returned.
Gabe was the first one through the door. The second she saw him, Jo flew across the room and flung herself into his arms. They disappeared out the door talking in whispers.
Sylvain wasn’t far behind Gabe. Allie, who felt that she hadn’t had time yet to process what had happened between them last night, wasn’t ready to see him yet. She slid down low in her seat and stared into her empty teacup and hoped he wouldn’t notice her.
She hadn’t had a second to think about what had happened between them last night. And how she’d got so drunk so fast.
As she thought about last night, she ran her fingers absently across the lump on the back of her head. It was smaller now, but it still hurt.
When Carter and Lucas walked through the door a few minutes later she felt a surge of relief. They both looked tired and filthy – dirt smeared their faces and their hair matted with sweat.
She was still keeping her head down, so Carter didn’t notice her as he filled his plate and grabbed a coffee. But Lucas saw her immediately.
‘Any word about Lisa?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘Nothing yet.’
His lips tightened. ‘I feel so awful about … I just wish I’d been with her.’
Seeing how worn out and defeated he looked, Allie hugged him. ‘Isabelle says she’s going to be OK, and I believe her.’ He nodded against her shoulder. ‘I think you should go and crash, Lucas. You look awful.’
He managed a smile. ‘Thanks Allie. You sound like Carter – he was just telling me the same thing.’
As Lucas walked off, Allie looked around for Carter. He was sitting alone at one of the furthest tables – with his legs sprawled out. He was eating with mechanical thoroughness; his eyes were fixed on his plate as if he really didn’t want to see anything else.
She waited until he’d eaten before walking over to him. Weariness made his face so vulnerable that her breath caught – he looked like a little boy. But the guarded look returned almost immediately. Pulling out a chair, she didn’t wait for him to invite her to join him.
‘Hey,’ she said.
‘Hey back.’ His voice was distant.
She studied his face. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m good.’ He looked up at her. ‘You OK?’
She shrugged. ‘I’m alive.’
‘I heard about Ruth …’
She held up her hand reflexively. ‘I don’t want to talk about that.’
‘Sorry,’ he said.
‘It’s not your fault.’ She willed dark images of Ruth’s body out of her mind. ‘I just … can’t talk about it right now. I’m not ready.’
‘OK.’ He sipped his coffee.
Silence fell between them.
She waited three breaths.
‘What?’
‘Have you seen Phil? Is he OK?’
He shook his head. ‘Not OK. He’s devastated. He blames himself for not being with her when it happened, the poor bastard. He’s going home for a while.’
Allie absorbed this information, before speaking again. ‘About last night …’
‘Allie …’ He shot her a warning look, but she ignored him.
‘Was I drunk? Or, I don’t know … drugged? I mean, I’ve been drunk before, and I know how you get drunk, obviously. But I just had three glasses. And I was … Well, I don’t really know what I was.’
‘I don’t know what you were either, Allie.’
His tone was accusing, and she leaned away from him, stung. ‘Hey. That’s not fair.’
‘You want to know what I think?’ His dark eyes flashed with repressed anger. ‘I think you drank too much and you trusted Sylvain. I tried to warn you.’
‘I know! I know you did.’ She was angry too, but her anger was directed at herself. ‘It’s all my fault. And I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I was stupid. I’m a dumbass, OK? Will you forgive me now?’
His expression softened. ‘Look, Allie, it’s just … I’ve told you before. You haven’t been here long enough to understand how things are here. Just be careful, OK? Things are not what they seem. People aren’t always who they seem to be.’
Even though his tone was kinder, his warning chilled her.
What kind of school is this, anyway? Who are these people? Worry burned her stomach. Can I trust anybody? Even Carter? He’s always been such a pain in the arse, but has he ever lied to me?
She studied his serious face, then reached out and put her hand on his arm. ‘Thanks, Carter.’
Surprised, he raised one eyebrow. ‘For what?’
‘You kind of rescued me from my own stupidity last night. That’s twice in twenty-four hours you’ve saved me. In some countries, I’d owe you my life, or my first-born child or something.’
He half-smiled, but she thought his eyes still looked guarded. ‘Just … believe me next time, OK?’
She nodded fervently, but all she said was, ‘OK.’
As he leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his cooling coffee his eyes narrowed and he stared hard at something behind her. Allie turned. Across the dining room Sylvain sat alone, his eyes boring into them. She could feel anger radiating off him like heat.
Carter returned his glare, unflinching.
‘Oh bollocks,’ Allie muttered.
‘You’re going to have trouble with him,’ Carter told her, turning to face her. ‘He is powerful around here, and he’s not going to be happy if he doesn’t get what he wants. And what he wants is you.’
Staring fearlessly back at Sylvain, Allie said, ‘Well that’s too bad. Because he can’t have me.’
Pushing back her chair she stood and stalked over to where Sylvain sat at the front of the room. His expression was intimidating but she was sober now. She leaned over until her hands rested on the arms of his chair and her face was just inches from his.
When she spoke her voice was a threatening whisper.
‘That was the worst date I ever had. And we. Are so. Over.’ She waited just long enough to clock the surprised look on his face, then she walked to the door. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Carter smile.
As she climbed the stairs to the girls’ dormitory she counted every single step. When she reached her own room sixty-one steps later she opened the door.
All was as she’d left it hours ago – dresser drawers were still open and clothes strewn on the floor from her hurried late-night search for something to wear.
Taking a deep breath, she took the sixty-second step into the room and began the process of making it feel safe again. First she picked up the clothes and put them away, then she straightened the already straight desktop and closed the wardrobe door. Finally, when everything was perfect, she closed the shutter over the window to block the daylight, kicked off her shoes and lay down on top of the duvet. She was completely exhausted. But she was also far too wired to sleep.
For half an hour she tossed and turned as last night’s events swirled through her head like the dancers at the ball. Who killed Ruth? … Carter must think I’m a complete slapper … Was I drunk? Jo said the champagne was strong … But Ruth was … She was …
Dark and cloudy images of Ruth’s bloodied body made her retch and she sat bolt upright. Her heart was pounding and her hands dripped with sweat.
She couldn’t breathe.
Air. I need air.
Springing from her bed she scrambled up onto her desk and flung the window open. Daylight poured in and she took a strangled breath of warm, fresh air …
‘Ouch!’
The voice outside her window startled her so much she nearly fell off the desk as she scrambled backwards. Clutching the chair as if it would protect her, she wheezed breathlessly.
‘Who …?’
‘Allie? What’s the matter?’
‘Carter?’ she wheezed. ‘What the … hell are … you …?’
Ignoring her question he reached through the window and pulled her closer – her body slid easily along the polished wood of her desktop; she didn’t have the strength to resist.
His dark eyes were serious as he watched her struggle to breathe. ‘Remember what you did the other night? You need to do it again. Breathe in through your nose. Slowly. And out through your mouth.’
She tried to process what was happening. ‘Were you … spying …?’
He glared at her. ‘Bloody hell, Allie. Will you just shut up and breathe?’
With her eyes on his, and his hands gripping hers, she breathed in sync with him, raggedly at first, but gradually more easily. When she seemed to be breathing normally, he let go and the questions burst out of her.
‘Are you a total pervert? How on earth did you get up here? And how did you find my room? And …’
Sitting on the ledge outside her window, Carter laughed and held up his hands. ‘Come on, Allie. I’ve lived at this school my whole life. I know every inch of it. Including the roof. Which is, by the way, super-easy to get up on and I’m kind of surprised you haven’t tried it yet.’
Allie looked for any sign that he was lying to her but saw nothing but exasperation.
‘Did you come here from your room?’ She paused, looking around. ‘Where is your room anyway?’
He pointed across the building. ‘Look, the guys’ dorm is on the top floor of the main building. My window is the third one there on the top floor, do you see it?’
She counted the dormer windows and nodded.
He turned back towards her. ‘It’s easy to get here from there.’
Suddenly she had a flashback to a few weeks ago. She stared up at him.
‘You’ve been here before.’ Her voice was accusing. ‘When I first came here, I thought I heard somebody outside my window late one night. It was you, wasn’t it?’
He had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘Oh balls. I didn’t think you heard. Sorry about that.’
‘You freaked me out, Carter,’ she said. ‘What were you doing here?’
He squirmed uncomfortably. ‘I was … actually on my way to see somebody else and you opened your window and nearly knocked me off the roof. I’m not a peeping Tom or anything.’
Remembering Jo’s warning that he broke girls’ hearts, Allie wondered who he’d been going to see. She studied him speculatively.
Who the hell are you anyway, Carter West?
Having him on the defensive made her feel more in control, and she crossed her legs and rested her elbows on her knees. ‘So, why are you here now, Carter? On your way to see some other girl again?’
He leaned against the window frame, avoiding her eyes. As he did it, he dislodged a pebble from the ledge, and she could hear it clicking its way to the ground three storeys below.
‘No. Of course not. It’s not a big deal or anything. I was just … worried about you, I guess,’ he said finally. ‘It’s been a pretty terrible night and you get these panic attacks, so I just … you know … worried.’
They held each other’s gaze for a moment, but his eyes were so limitlessly dark they seemed to summon images of last night’s awful events. She covered her face with her hands to block them out.
‘I keep seeing Ruth and remembering … It was bad, Carter. Really bad. It was dark but I could see that her throat was cut. There was so much blood … And then the footsteps. I thought I was next.’
‘What footsteps?’
When she looked up he was staring at her. For the first time it occurred to her that in all of the chaos she’d never had a chance to tell anybody about what happened outside.
When she filled him in, he kept returning to the footsteps she’d heard. ‘You’re quite certain the footsteps came from within the school and then headed away?’
Allie nodded – she could see that his mind was working.
‘How many footsteps did you hear? I mean, how many people do you think there were?’ he asked.
‘One, I think, but I’m not certain. I was too frightened. Carter, who could have done this? Do you think it could have been a student? Or … a teacher?’
Until now, the idea had not occurred to her, but suddenly it all seemed appallingly possible. She hoped he’d laugh at her, or tell her she was being stupid. But he didn’t.
Instead, he rubbed his eyes. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so – but I don’t know any more.’
‘Why didn’t they kill me too?’ Her voice was plaintive as she finally said the words she’d been avoiding since last night. ‘Why am I still alive?’
Carter looked out over the school grounds. He didn’t speak for a long moment. When he did, his voice was rough. ‘I don’t know, Allie. But if it’s possible the killer saw you, and maybe thinks that you saw him … Well. You need to be very careful from now on.’
It was a warm morning but Allie shivered. She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘Carter, what is going on?’
His eyes locked on hers, and she could feel how much he wanted to tell her something, but the moment passed and he shook his head.
‘I can’t, Allie. I just can’t.’
She was so tired she couldn’t bear to argue – she’d had almost no sleep in two days. Resting her head on her hand and closing her eyes, she yawned.
‘I want to stay awake and fight off murderers but I’m too tired,’ she murmured. ‘It really sucks being alone right now, Carter. I wish you could stay.’
A long silence passed between them, but she’d dozed a little and didn’t notice until Carter spoke again.
‘Scoot over,’ he said.
She made room for him on the desktop and he climbed lithely through the window then closed it behind him.
A sudden rush of adrenalin made her feel very awake. ‘We’ll be so busted if Jules finds out,’ she said, although she didn’t really care.
‘Oh, I can handle Jules,’ he said. Sitting on the floor beside the bed he stretched out his legs with a groan of pleasure – his lanky frame had been compressed on the window ledge, and he’d probably been running all night. ‘Besides, everything’s crazy today. Nobody will notice. Get into bed and let’s both try to sleep.’
After a second’s hesitation, Allie climbed off the desk and onto the bed. Feigning nonchalance, she pulled the blue blanket off the footboard and handed it down to him. But when their fingers touched as he took it from her they both froze for a second.
‘Do you need a pillow?’ she asked, forcing her voice to be steady.
‘Thanks – no, this is good.’ He sounded calm but she could see how tight his jaw was as he unfolded the blanket.
Allie stretched out and tried to relax but her body was rigid – every muscle tensed as if for flight. She put her hands over her face.
‘I can’t do this. I’ll never sleep.’
Carter lifted one of her hands off her face and held it. ‘Did I ever tell you that I used to have panic attacks?’
Surprised, Allie rolled onto her side so that she could see him. ‘Did you? When?’
‘A few years ago.’ He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. ‘I was going through a rough patch and I started having these … episodes. A good friend helped me through it. And one thing he taught me was to stop thinking about what was freaking me out, and to concentrate instead on things that made me feel safe. Even … happy. To force better thoughts into my head. What makes you happy, Allie?’
She thought hard. Christopher, alive and well and normal. Being part of a normal family. Being here. Until last night anyway.
‘I don’t know,’ she whispered.
Carter was quiet for a while, holding her hand against his chest. When he spoke again, she could feel the rumble of his voice through her fingertips.
‘Imagine … we’re somewhere else. Somewhere really beautiful. Maybe on a beach with white sand and blue water.’
She tried to see herself sitting with Carter in the shade of a palm tree, sand between their toes.
‘You’re safe here,’ he said, his voice low and steady. ‘Maybe later we’ll snorkel and watch the fish swim. Bright colourful fish. Can you see them?’
Focusing on his words, she thought she could see them – flashing by in the blue water. She began to hear the rhythmic rumble of waves. His voice was so calming, her shoulders relaxed at last as bright shoals of tiny blue, red and yellow tropical fish scattered across her imagination. Her breathing became more steady. She felt herself sinking into the warm water – slowly and deliciously.
‘It’s beautiful.’ Her voice was thick with sleep.
‘Yes it is,’ he said, still holding her hand.
In her mind she surfaced, and saw a ship on the horizon, sails unfurling as she fell asleep.