Night School - Endgame

Time slowed.

The tiles were solid under Allie’s feet, and gravity was her friend, pulling her down to where the two figures were haloed in moonlight. Zoe looked so small. So fragile.

Allie couldn’t seem to hear anything at all – not her footsteps, not her heart. She ran in a vacuum of terror. Unable to breathe or think.

With sickening smooth purpose Gabe rose and reached for Zoe – fast as a snake strike. He didn’t need to turn to see where she was – he just knew. He always knew.

He is the best of all of us.

Allie had no doubt he would throw her from the roof just like that pebble earlier. With as little thought or conscience.

Just before his hands could touch Zoe’s slim arm, though, Allie reached him. Bending low as she’d been trained, she let her weight and her speed drive her shoulder into his abdomen. Knocking him off his feet.

Even as she hit him, though, she was pulling back, reaching for Zoe who, wide-eyed with surprise, grabbed her hand in a move that was pure instinct.

Gabe reached for her, too, grappling for anything to hold on to as he tumbled backwards.

But she was just out of his reach. His fingers caught only air.

There was nothing to hold him back. No one to pull him from the edge.

In the bright, cold moonlight, his confused gaze locked on to Allie’s for what seemed like forever but must have been a fraction of a second.

Then, with a look of utter surprise, he fell from the edge of the high, slate roof, disappearing into the night with no more sound than a rush of wind.





26





Allie wouldn’t let go of Zoe’s hand.

They sat in Isabelle’s office, surrounded by a hubbub of frantic activity – guards and teachers all shouting and arguing.

A nurse had come down from the infirmary to clean and bandage her neck wound. Allie was still as a stone as she worked. Dazed and unaware. When the nurse gave her an injection, Allie barely noticed the sting.

All she knew was Zoe’s slim, small hand, warm and alive in her own.

For a while, Zoe endured this contact, her emotionless face puzzled but polite. After a while, though, she leaned towards Allie.

‘You’re hurting my hand.’

It took everything in Allie to let go. But she did.

Zoe flexed her fingers and tightened them into a fist. Deciding Allie hadn’t done lasting damage, she beamed at her.

‘I have to go tell Lucas what happened. He won’t believe it.’

She was gone in an instant – a bullet of energy shooting through the crowded room.

‘There you go.’ The nurse bustled around her, gathering her supplies into a black plastic case. ‘All done.’

Isabelle left a cluster of teachers to join them. She rested a hand on Allie’s shoulders.

‘How is she?’

‘Stitched back together again.’ The nurse sounded disapproving, as if it was Isabelle’s fault this had happened. ‘The cut wasn’t deep and the knife hit no major arteries, thank goodness.’ She closed her bag with a snap. Her lips were stretched tight, as if holding back many unflattering words. ‘I’ve given her an injection as you instructed.’

‘Thank you, Emma.’ Isabelle’s voice was measured. ‘My apologies for dragging you out of bed.’

‘I’m used to it,’ the nurse said sourly before marching away, her green scrubs swishing.

Isabelle sighed and glanced down at Allie.

‘Are you in much pain?’ She brushed a fingertip against the bloodstained collar of her blouse. The gesture was subtle but tender.

Allie, who couldn’t seem to feel much of anything, ignored the question.

‘Isabelle, promise me Gabe’s really dead. You’re sure?’ She’d already asked this question many times. She couldn’t seem to stop herself asking it again.

She hadn’t seen the body – no one would let her. She’d heard, faintly, the concussion when it hit. And the commotion that arose four storeys below.

But she couldn’t see anything. She’d nearly tumbled after him, pulled by her own forward motion. But Zoe had held onto her arm with a relentless grip, using her entire weight to pull her back to safety, digging her heels against the hard tiles.

By the time they’d climbed down, the school was in uproar. Guards surrounded the body. Students had been ordered into the common room. Teachers and guards ran everywhere searching for other intruders.

Cimmeria was in lockdown now – no one allowed in or out. On some level, everyone knew it was futile. The place was too big to fully secure. They could find every hole, close every gate. But a ten-foot fence couldn’t keep out someone absolutely set on getting in.

Gabe and Nathaniel kept proving that.

Still, they had to try.

‘He’s really dead,’ Isabelle said. ‘I swear it.’

She lowered herself into the leather chair next to Allie’s.

C.J. Daugherty's books