Dead Flesh

like a couple of dicks.”

“But we don’t look very smart,” I said.

“That’s the point,” he smiled, poking his fingers from beneath his sleeves.

“But…”

“I’m Brook. Sam Brook,” he said, thrusting his hand out towards me.

“Kayla Hunt,” I replied, shaking Sam’s hand.

“What year you been put in?” Sam asked, kicking the box over and walking away up the corridor.

“Sorry?” I asked, watching the second-hand clothes spill out of the box like a pile of entangled guts.

“How old are ya?” Sam shouted over his shoulder.

“Sixteen!”

“Nice one. You’ll be in the same classes as me!” he smiled back at me, and his piercing blue eyes seemed to sparkle with delight. “C’mon, you don’t want to be late for Brother Michael’s lesson!” And with another wicked grin, Sam mooched away and up the corridor.

I straightened my thick auburn hair and said, “To be honest, I do feel kinda nervous.”

“I knew it,” Sam smiled at me.

“How? Is it that obvious?”

“You look as if you’re gonna shit yourself!’ Sam laughed.

“Thanks!”

“I’m just taking the piss!” Sam grinned and slapped me on the back. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to being at Ravenwood.”

I knew that my time at the school was short, and I needed to find out as much information about it and the staff as possible. So not wanting to waste any time, I said, “The teachers here seem weird — kinda strange.”

“The Ravenwood Greys, that’s what we call ‘em,” Sam said, his voice dropping to just above a whisper.

I thought of the teacher who had met me outside of the school and the grey robes and hood that it had worn, and the name seemed to fit. Wanting to know more about these Ravenwood Greys, I said, “You’re not reassuring me, Sam. Are they really bad?”

“The old lot of teachers we had — they were pretty safe. But one morning we all tipped up for lessons as normal, and they’d all gone — vanished!” Sam told me.

“What do you mean, vanished?” I asked, thinking of Emily Clarke.

“Dunno,” Sam shrugged. “They just disappeared and were replaced by the Greys.”

“Where did they go?” I asked him.

“How should I know?” Sam whispered, approaching the door to the classroom and pushing it open. I followed him inside.

Just like my blazer, the classroom smelt old, musty, and of sweat. It was full of teenagers all about the same age as me and Sam. Some looked a few years younger. They sat in rows behind single wooden desks. I followed Sam across the room, and finding a spare desk and seat next to him, I sat down. Along one side of the classroom, windows spewed dreary shafts of winter morning light across the desks and chalkboard. Glancing out of the windows, I could see one of the turrets that surrounded the school spiralling up into the overcast sky. At the top I could see a hooded figure pacing back and forth as it kept watch over the school and everyone imprisoned within it.

Chapter Eighteen

Kayla

“I thought you said we shouldn’t be late for Brother Michael’s lesson?” I said to Sam, looking at my watch. “He’s five minutes late already.”

“Shhh!” Sam said. “He might already be here!”

“What do ya mean?” I asked. But before Sam could explain, something happened.

At first there was a rustling sound, like leaves being carried along the street in a storm. This was followed by a wailing sound and a spray of shadows that flickered across the chalkboard like the silhouette of a giant bird. Then out of the gloom in the corner of the room stepped one of those Greys. His robes fluttered all around him as he made his way to the front of the class.

“Where did he come — ” I began.

“Shhh!” Sam said again, prodding me in the ribs with his elbow. “That’s Brother Michael.”

Brother Michael stood at the front of the class, his giant frame wedged into a grey coloured robe. But it wasn’t just his cloak and the hood that he had draped over his head, everything about him was grey. His hoodie was pulled so far down over his face that the only part I could see was his mouth. Brother Michael’s lips were puckered, cracked, and blistered looking.

“For the benefit of the new student,” Brother Michael’s mouth hissed, “I will remind you of the entire list of school rules.” Then, running his tongue over his lips to moisten them, he began. “You will not leave the school grounds. In fact, you won’t have any contact with the outside world until you leave this school!”

School! Is that what he calls it? I wondered.

His tongue snaked from between his lips again and a silver globule of spittle glistened as it dribbled from the corner of his mouth. He looked as if he were about to throw a fit. “If you should see anyone other than a member of staff in the school grounds, you are to report it at once!” Straightening the rope that hung about his waist, he continued. “By that I mean anyone odd — anyone looking strange! Do I make myself clear?” he asked.

What? Stranger than you? I thought to myself. Not likely!

“Yes, Brother,” the class replied. I sat silently and watched Brother Michael knock away the spit that swung from his chin.

Brother Michael continued to inform the class of the many rules that we must all obey, and as he did, I stole a glance about the room and spied at some of the other students. They sat with their backs straight, faces taut and emotionless, like mindless dummies in shop windows. They looked haunted — lost in some way — like they had given up somehow. Then, as I was turning back to face Brother Michael, I caught someone staring back at me. It was a boy, about my age I figured, with narrow green eyes and a scrunched-up looking face. He had a fierce-looking crew cut like a Marine, and he had his fists on his desk like two giant clubs.

The way he stared made me feel uncomfortable, so I offered him a half smile. In return, he grinned back at me. Then, pointing his thumb and forefinger like a pistol, he aimed it at me and pretended to fire a shot off. I faced front again to find Brother Michael continuing to recite the never-ending list of school rules.

“Apart from the searchlights in the grounds, all the lights will be switched off at nine p.m. After this time, the school will be in total darkness!”

I had no trouble in conjuring up eerie images of Ravenwood at night and as I pictured the long, soulless corridors, a thought came to me. Raising an arm above my head, I tried to get Brother Michael’s attention.

“What is it, Hunt?” Brother Michael hissed. “It had better be good!”

I lowered my arm, glanced at the other kids seated nearest to me, then back at Brother Michael. Just above a whisper, I said, “Brother, if the school is in total darkness, how will I find my way to the toilet — you know, just in case I need to pee?”

The class erupted into hysterics. I stared at them, never intending my question to be humorous, it was a genuine concern that I had.

“Silence!” Brother Michael screeched and the laughter stopped. “So we have a comedian in our midst, do we?”

“No, Brother…I was just wondering…”

“You’d better not be trouble, Hunt. I’m not known for my sense of humour and children who break the rules make me laugh even less!” Brother Michael spat, reaching into the folds of his robes and producing a long, black, plastic rod similar in size to a ruler.

Whoosh!