Night School

At ten past eight that night, Allie stood in the hallway outside Jo’s door. Hearing voices inside, she raised her hand to knock … then put it down again. After a moment she straightened and tapped on the door then turned the handle and stepped inside.

Jo, Lisa, Ruth, Gabe and Lucas were sitting in a circle. Allie took a spot on the floor between Ruth and Lucas, and, pulling her feet up, wrapped her arms around her knees. Gabe was pointing at a small area on a map.

‘… so, given all of that, I think the only safe way out is through the classroom wing.’

Lucas looked sceptical. ‘Hang on, all we know is that all the other doors will be watched. Why wouldn’t they guard that one too?’

‘Two reasons,’ Gabe said. ‘First, because The Rules say we can’t go in that wing outside of class hours under any circumstances – so the amount of trouble we’d get in if we were caught is pretty serious. Second, because it’s marked as an alarmed fire door.’

‘What will we do about the alarm?’ Allie asked.

Gabe’s reply was simple. ‘There is no alarm.’

There was an uproar, and Gabe, who seemed to enjoy their astonishment, held out his hands for silence. ‘There are no alarms anywhere in this building at all. Any sign that says “alarm” is a lie.’

Lisa’s quiet voice broke the stunned silence. ‘Why?’

‘I don’t know,’ Gabe said. Watching him closely, Allie got the feeling he was lying. He knew precisely why. He just didn’t want to say.

No fire alarms. No burglar alarms. Nothing to warn anybody about anything.

‘So,’ Jo brushed aside the alarm conversation, ‘how do we get into the classroom wing without attracting attention?’

‘I know that one,’ Lucas said. ‘Here’s what we do …’





FOURTEEN


‘Ouch!’ Hopping up and down in the dark, Jo grabbed her toe.

‘Shhhh.’ Though Jo couldn’t see her, Allie held a finger to her lips and they both froze.

It was eleven-thirty Thursday night, and they were standing on the stair landing in the dark, the polished wood floor cold against their bare feet. They’d worked on the plan until late Wednesday night, and talked about it half of the day today. Allie had decided that getting out of the building was definitely going to be the best part.

Now they listened for any sounds, any sign that they’d been noticed, but the old building was silent. After a moment they began feeling their way down the stairs again, each holding her shoes in one hand and clinging to the banister with the other. Lucas had reminded them that the third from last step creaked, so they carefully stepped over it. When they reached the bottom, Allie looked towards Isabelle’s office – no light shone under the door.

Her eyes were adjusting to the dark – she could see a little better now.

As they stealthily tiptoed down the wide hallway to the classroom wing door, Allie stopped.

‘Did you hear that?’ she breathed, her lips barely moving.

Jo shook her head, but at that moment they both heard the sound. Footsteps. Nearby.

Allie spun around looking for a place to hide. Thinking fast, she ran behind a stone column, pulling Jo with her. A few seconds later, a lithe shadow flitted down the hallway. Allie pressed back against the wall, but Jo leaned forward, squinting into the darkness. Before Allie could stop her, she dashed after the shadow.

‘Jo!’ Allie whispered, but there was no reply. She hesitated for a moment, deciding what to do, then stepped out after her. At first she could see nothing, then she bumped into Jo, who was standing just down the hall with Lisa.

‘Found her!’ Jo whispered, clearly delighted.

Lisa looked less thrilled, and Allie wondered why she’d come. She’d been so reluctant in every conversation about it. Now she seemed unable to stand still, hopping nervously from one foot to another like an anxious dancer before a show, her eyes enormous in her delicate face. Allie gave her a sympathetic look, and then pointed at the door to the classroom wing.

Jo nodded.

‘What about Ruth?’ Allie whispered.

‘She’s late – we can’t wait.’

Allie turned the handle. If the door creaked, they were dead.

It swung open silently on hinges Gabe had oiled that afternoon.

They slipped through and then ran as fast as they could down the long corridor. The door at the end was marked with ominous, official-looking signs that warned of alarms and security; there were numbers to call in case of emergencies. Allie wondered if she dialled them, who would answer.

Standing still for one brief moment, they exchanged a look in the shadows, then one at a time they each put a hand on the door, and at Jo’s nod, they pushed it.

The door opened without a sound.

Rushing through, they tumbled onto a path covered in gravel that cut into their bare feet. They all hopped around in comedic fashion pulling on their shoes and trying not to cry out. Thinking how ridiculous they must look to anyone watching, Allie stifled a giggle.