Night School

The fires were small and already beginning to go out – it was clear the students were winning the battle. But the intense smoke was the biggest problem – it was hard to breathe.

‘Open a window!’ somebody shouted.

‘Don’t!’ came a firm reply. ‘It’ll make the fires worse. Get out if you need a break.’

Zelazny’s familiar stern voice was somehow comforting to Allie, who stood stunned in the middle of the room unable to take it all in.

‘Allie! Are you all right?’ Jo appeared at her side, her face smeared with soot, an empty vase in her hand. ‘Jesus. Where did the blood come from? Are you hurt?’

Dropping the vase, she grabbed Allie’s bloody hands and turned her around looking for obvious wounds. Allie shook her head but for a second she couldn’t find her voice. Her lips moved, but no sound emerged.

‘Allie, you’re scaring me.’ Tears sprung to Jo’s eyes. ‘Please, please, please tell me you’re OK.’

Her words jarred Allie and suddenly the truth burst out of her as she gripped Jo’s hands so tightly it must have hurt. ‘Oh my God, Jo. There was screaming, and … There’s blood … everywhere.’

Jo’s cornflower-blue eyes were wide with fear – her hands squeezed Allie’s so hard it hurt. ‘Allie, please try to explain – where is the blood from?’

Allie stared at her hands. ‘Jo, this is Ruth’s blood. She’s out back. Her throat is … it’s cut. Badly. I think she’s dead.’

Swallowing hard, Jo whipped around calling urgently: ‘Jerry!’

Allie watched through the dark and smoke as Jo ran to the teacher who had been beating smouldering embers with a soaked tablecloth. His face was black with soot. Eloise stood nearby, her long hair tangled down her back. She’d taken off her heels and stood barefoot spraying foam from a fire extinguisher.

Jo spoke quickly, her face panicked. Allie couldn’t make out her words.

Jerry and Eloise exchanged a look. Eloise handed the extinguisher to another teacher and the two ran out of the room.

When Jo returned to her side, Allie looked around. ‘Where’s Lisa?’

Jo bit her lip. ‘I couldn’t find either of you anywhere.’

‘So you haven’t seen her at all?’ Allie could hear the hysteria in her own voice but was helpless to stop it. ‘Jo, she could be hurt! She could be … like Ruth.’

Tears filled her eyes and she fought them back as Jo grabbed her bloodied hands.

‘Stay calm, Allie. I haven’t had a chance to really look for her.’ She glanced around the room. ‘It looks like most of the fire is out now. Let’s look for her together.’

Moving quickly, Jo headed across the room pulling Allie with her. They walked through the lingering smoke, checking everybody they could find.

Nothing.

‘Out front.’ Jo was moving swiftly now, and Allie was right beside her. They headed for the front door and then skidded to a stop. In the entrance hall a frail body in a silvery blue dress lay still on the stone floor, a long, filmy wrap stretched out on either side of her, as if blown on a breeze only she could feel. A tall wooden candle holder lay across her body.

‘Oh no.’ Jo’s words were a whisper as they rushed to Lisa’s side.

Allie crouched beside her and picked up Lisa’s hand. ‘She’s alive,’ she said.

Jo pulled the candle holder off of her and threw it to one side. Lisa’s hair had fallen across her face and Allie gently smoothed it back, revealing a deep gash across her cheek. Jo gave a small cry and her hand covered her mouth, her eyes filled with tears.

‘Lisa? Lisa, wake up. Can you hear me? We really need you to wake up.’ Allie said the last word with such force that it seemed to reverberate.

She saw droplets fall on Lisa’s dress and it took her a moment to realise that she was crying. Burying her face in her hands she sobbed, as Jo cried beside her.

‘Wake up.’





SIXTEEN


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.’