Night School

Jo jumped to her feet sending chess pieces scattering across the floor.

‘What …?’ She looked confused, fearful.

‘He’s hurt. Phil too. It went wrong.’

Allie stood up and moved to Jo’s side. ‘What happened? Where are they?’

Ruth gave her an appraising look; Allie thought she saw Jo nod.

‘The summerhouse,’ Ruth said.

‘Let’s go,’ Allie said, taking Jo by the hand and pulling her towards the common room door. Ruth didn’t follow them.

The two of them dashed through the grand entry hall where they skidded to a stop on the stone floor and shoved the heavy wooden door open. Outside the rain was pelting down. Allie dashed out without hesitation, but at the foot of the steps she stopped and turned to Jo.

‘Which way?’ She shouted to be heard above the noise of the storm as thunder rumbled above them.

Jo pointed past the west wing. They hurtled down the drive, then onto the wet grass and out towards the woods. Allie could hear her own ragged breathing ringing in her ears, the sound of rain … and nothing else.

A few minutes later she saw an elaborate Victorian gazebo through the trees. It was empty. They ran up the stairs and looked around, panting. Allie bent over with her hands on her knees trying to catch her breath.

Jo pointed into the woods. ‘There.’

Allie peered into the rainy gloom, but could see nobody.

Then she heard a shout that seemed to come from far away, deep in the forest. Allie looked at Jo to see if she’d heard. She was staring off into the trees, her lips slightly parted as she listened.

‘Did you hear that too?’ Allie whispered. Jo nodded, her eyes still fixed on the forest.

‘It’s Gabe,’ she whispered back.

They stood still, watching. More shouts, but they could see nothing. Then, after a few minutes, shadowy figures came into focus, walking out from between the trees. Allie could make out Carter and Gabe. They seemed to be holding somebody up between them. She couldn’t see who it was.

‘Oh my God.’ Jo was still whispering.

As the boys walked up the stairs to the summerhouse, Allie could see that they were wounded. Carter had a cut on his forehead that was bleeding heavily. Gabe had blood on his hands and shirt. He glared at Allie.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’

Carter turned to Gabe. ‘Not right now, man. We’ve got enough problems.’

Gently, they laid down the person they carried. Allie didn’t recognise him, but Jo gasped.

‘Phil. Oh no.’

Gabe looked up at her, his eyes worried. ‘I think he’s going to be OK. Sylvain’s gone to get help.’

Allie pulled at Gabe’s arm, turning it over to reveal a cut on his wrist bleeding freely.

‘Gabe,’ she breathed, colour disappearing from her face.

What the hell is happening? Allie thought, looking at the disaster scene in front of her. And why isn’t anybody else asking that question?

On his knees beside Phil, Carter tore a strip from the end of his shirt and tied it tightly around the unconscious boy’s leg. Then he tore another one and held it up to Jo. ‘Tie this around Gabe’s wrist.’

But Jo seemed unable to move. She held the white fabric as if she didn’t quite know what it was.

Seeing Jo’s fear, Allie stepped over. ‘I’ll do it.’

As she reached for the fabric, Jo let it fall from her hand.

The makeshift bandage fluttering, Allie turned to Gabe. ‘Hold out your hand.’

Gabe lifted his arm and Allie wrapped the strip expertly around his wrist and hand, weaving it into a tight bandage, then tucking the end in so the fit was snug.

‘Hold your hand above your heart until the bleeding stops,’ she intoned automatically.

Turning back towards Phil, she saw that Carter was watching her.

‘You’re bleeding too,’ she said.

‘I’m OK.’

‘I can see that. Someone should look at that cut.’

Hearing footsteps running across the grass, Allie looked up to see a group of people running their way. As they neared she saw that Sylvain was in the lead, Zelazny and Jerry right behind him. Zelazny glanced at Allie with irritation.

‘What is she doing here?’ His tone was accusing.

Sylvain’s eyes met Allie’s for a second then he returned his focus to Zelazny. His voice was soothing. ‘We’ll find out later – first we must deal with this.’

‘How bad is it?’ Jerry asked, checking the tourniquet.

Carter looked worried. ‘Not good. He needs a doctor. He’s bleeding a lot.’

‘What about you?’ Jerry asked.

Blood dripped down Carter’s face and onto his soaked white shirt, but he didn’t look up. ‘I’ll be fine. I just need a couple of stitches.’

‘OK, you and Gabe get to the nurse. Sylvain, help me with Phil. Everybody else, get back inside. Now.’

His tone was firm and on his last word they all moved at once. He and Sylvain carried Phil by draping his arms across their shoulders, and Zelazny hurried ahead of them. As if she’d been shaken awake, Jo turned to Gabe and hugged him.