Night School - Endgame

This kind of recklessness was utterly out of character for cautious, protocol-obsessed Isabelle.

The headmistress stood in the middle of the drive, inches from the moving metal.

It was almost, Allie thought, almost like she wanted Nathaniel to come back.

This was scarier than anything that had happened all night. The teachers at Cimmeria had been pushed to the brink by Nathaniel over the last few months.

Maybe this had been a step too far. Pushing the headmistress over the edge.

‘Isabelle…’ she began hesitantly.

Before she could finish the sentence, Isabelle lifted her phone again.

‘Now, Raj.’

As if by magic, security guards in black fighting gear poured from the woods behind them. There must have been fifty of them. They moved without a sound.

In the inky darkness, they were like night in motion.

Allie had known they must be nearby – the guards were never going to leave the two of them out here alone – but she hadn’t seen any sign of them until now.

With silent swiftness, they streamed around the two women and rushed towards the gates.

Raj was in the lead, his face set and focused. He didn’t glance at them as he sped by.

They hurtled through the gate to the two blindfolded men. There they divided in a movement of silent precision. Most headed off to search the surrounding area. The others searched the bound men before hustling them on to the school grounds.

As quickly as it had begun, it was over. The guards raced back towards the fence, stealth forgotten now. Zelazny shouted orders as he ran. The gates shuddered and began to close.

Once safely inside, the guards arrayed themselves in a long, black line in front of the slowly closing gate. They stood poised, ready to spring.

Raj was the last one back, slipping through the bars like a shadow, just before the gate closed with a clang.

Zelazny headed straight to Isabelle, disapproval in his pale, blue eyes.

‘That was risky,’ he said, sotto voce.

Isabelle kept her gaze on the two bound men. Someone produced a knife and sliced the plastic cuffs from their wrists.

‘It is time,’ she said after a moment, ‘for risk taking.’

She strode away to talk to Raj. Zelazny glowered, but didn’t pursue her.

Allie watched the guards dealing with the returned hostages, a hollow, helpless misery growing inside her.

No Carter. It was all a trick.

She didn’t know what to do.

Everything felt so pointless. No matter what they did, they lost. Nathaniel read them like a book. They couldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to. He was just toying with them now.

They were the mouse. He was the cat.

She couldn’t see that ever changing. Especially now that Lucinda was gone. He’d play with them until he was bored. Whenever he was ready, he would take everything. Game over.

‘Don’t worry.’

Allie glanced up in surprise to find Zelazny watching her, a rare hint of sympathy in his expression.

‘Nathaniel will pay for this,’ he said.

If she hadn’t been so dazed by the speed with which events had transpired, she might have been surprised that he’d noticed her pain. Or that he cared.

But that would only occur to her later. Now she just nodded her thanks.

‘Everyone back inside.’ Raj’s voice sliced through the night.

Zelazny whirled, the momentary kindness disappearing.

‘Let’s go,’ he bellowed. ‘Everybody move! Now!’

With one last longing look through the gate to the empty darkness beyond, Allie did as she told.



As soon as they reached the main school building, Isabelle took the two released prisoners to be debriefed.

‘August, Eloise – with me.’ Her tone was so clipped and cold, Allie knew better than to ask if she could come, too.

The small group disappeared into the office underneath the stairs. The door slammed behind them.

Quiet fell.

For a while, Allie waited outside Isabelle’s door, hoping for news. Maybe the guards knew something about Carter. Maybe they could give them some clues as to where he was being kept.

But the ornate carved door stayed stubbornly shut.

She leaned against a wall, trying to remain cool and composed, but her right foot tapped nervously against the polished wood floor. She couldn’t seem to make it be still.

‘Allie.’

Sylvain had walked up behind her soundlessly; she’d never heard him coming.

No chance of escape.

‘We need to talk,’ he said.

He was still in his black Night School gear; his expression was thunderous.

Allie’s heart sank.

She tried to affect nonchalance, but tension crept into her voice. ‘Sure. What’s up?’

‘Not here.’ He pointed at the sweeping staircase behind them. ‘Up there.’

He climbed the stairs with a cat’s smooth stride. Allie followed as slowly as possible, gripping the banister.

She had a bad feeling about this.

On the landing, he stopped in front of the towering windows. Resting one hand on the plinth for a marble statue he drummed his fingers briefly – the only sign that he was nervous, too.

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