Fractured A Slated Novel

Chapter TWENTY FIVE



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‘Come.’

Just one word in a low voice, that is all. The Lorder isn’t one I recognise; he walks ahead and doesn’t look back. He has no doubt that I will follow. I consider running for it, but what would be the point? I drop behind, just keeping him in sight through the crowd of students changing classes. Easy to do as they give him a wide berth: just follow the blank spot in a crowded hall.

He opens an office door in the admin building, goes inside and leaves it ajar. I look quickly in all directions: even though Nico should be in science block, you never know. But there is no sign of him or anyone else I recognise.

When I reach the door, it is unlike the others I pass on the way. There is no nameplate or number.

I knock once and go in.

The Lorder I’d followed stands at attention to one side of a desk. At the desk sits Coulson.

‘Sit,’ he says. There is only one chair, on this side of the small desk facing him: too close for comfort, but I sit. ‘Speak.’

I swallow, throat suddenly dry. ‘Nice office,’ I say.

He says nothing, but the chill in the room increases by enough of a factor for me to know I’m in trouble. The silence is brittle.

The best guide to lying is to stick to the truth as much as possible. ‘There may be some plans, but I don’t know when, or the details.’

He inclines his head slightly, his face blank, as always. Considering.

‘Not good enough,’ he says, finally. ‘What sort of plans?’

My brain isn’t cooperating; it has gone cold with fear. What I should or shouldn’t say is an unprepared mystery, and the more his eyes rest on me, the more my brain stops working. Until I find Ben, until I warn him to hide where Coulson can’t find him, Coulson must think I’m sticking to our deal. He must. I have to tell him something.

‘There may be concerted attacks planned. But that is all I know. I don’t know where, or when.’ I say the words in a rush, then flinch inside. Nico is part of these plans. I can’t say anything to lead them to him or the others.

He stares back. The clock on the wall behind me ticks loud, and seems too slow, like seconds are stretching beyond their usual limits. His eyes bore in, see the holes in what I say, the things I leave out.

‘There have been rumours of this. A few…confessions, that suggest similar. What else?’

‘That is all I know,’ I say, the words almost sticking in my throat.

The bell for next class rings, and I jump.

There is something in his eyes. He knows I’m holding back, that I haven’t told him everything.

The blood drains from my face.

He smiles, but it doesn’t make me feel better. ‘Go now. You can’t be late for maths.’

I almost leap out of the chair and reach for the door. He even knows my next class?

‘Oh, Kyla?’

I pause.

‘Consider yourself lucky today. I am not a patient man. The next time we speak, I want more. I want the whole story.

‘Go!’ he barks, and I bolt out the door.

I dash down the hall, glad to be late, to have an excuse to run.

In the door of my maths class I scan in, sit, get my notebook out. Pretend to listen to the teacher go on about statistics while my mind churns over probabilities of my own.

It has only been two days. Coulson is impatient, now? Somehow he knows something. That I wasn’t where I was supposed to be yesterday afternoon. How? He has been watching, or someone is spying on me.

We file in for Assembly that afternoon as we do every Friday, but this one is different. Coulson is there again with the Lorders, and this time I know I’m not imagining things. His eyes really are resting on my head, marking me out. Like a neon sign stamped on my forehead: See the Lorder Spy. I feel like a butterfly pinned in place under a lens, a hot lamp burning my wings.

Can anyone else see how he watches? I glance about, then with a start spot Nico sitting with his tutor group, off to the left and several rows back. His eyes flit to mine and then away. Did Coulson see?

Dangerous games.

Face carefully blank, I focus on the Head as he goes on about school inspections. Inside, all is turmoil: those two, together, breathing the same air in the same room. Perhaps I could point them out to each other and let them get on with it.

No. It isn’t fair to put them together in my mind like that. Lorders are evil: thinking about what happened to Tori in their hands turns my stomach. And to so many others, who go missing without explanation. Nico is right to want to put an end to them and their ways.

Yet what Nico is to me…that is complicated.

I should have told him. Right from the start, as soon as it happened, I should have told Nico about Coulson and his deal. Let Nico decide how to handle it, how to turn it back on them. The old Rain would have done.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t risk Ben; or Cam either, for that matter. But that isn’t the Free UK way. They will rescue their own if they can without undue risk. Otherwise, all are expendable; we know this. It’s part of the deal. The safety of the group – the cause – is more important than any individual, in the group or outside it.

I feel sick inside. It is too late to tell Nico about any of it; I’d be damned by the delay. He’d see I am divided. That I am weak.

No matter what I do, it is wrong.