Fracture

She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Her chest was suddenly too small for her lungs.

Shoving things off the desk with a reckless sweep of her arm, she climbed up on top of it to try and get a better look through the window. But he’d disappeared completely.

For a second she stayed still, gripping the window frame. Then she tore across the room and out of the door.

Weariness forgotten, she pounded down two flights of stairs and along the wide, empty grand hallway to the front door, where she fumbled with the complicated old locking system, fingers numb with anxiety and excitement until, with an almighty clang, the lock finally gave and she was outside.

Leaving the front door open behind her she hurtled down the front steps. Her knee protested but she ignored its complaints and sped across the grass.

She wasn’t afraid. She was going to catch that man. And she was going to make him suffer.

The moonlight lit up the grounds like a stage – silvering the grass and illuminating the trees. Allie made no effort to hide herself or to move quietly. This wasn’t about stealth – it was about speed.

She’d made it across the lawn to the tree line, the spot where she’d last seen him, when her muscles – exhausted from the earlier training – began to give. She reeled drunkenly into the woods.

It was darker here – the moonlight couldn’t penetrate through the canopy of pine branches. Slowing her steps, she suddenly realised she had no idea where to go – she didn’t know which direction he’d taken after entering the forest.

Instinct led her to the chapel footpath where she sped up again, peering into the shadows. She stopped to listen, hoping to hear footsteps, breaking branches. But she could hear nothing except her own ragged breathing; her pounding heart.

I lost him.

Despairing, she bent over, resting her hands on her knees and taking shallow breaths. When she raised her head again, she noticed movement ahead – it was just a flitting shadow. But it didn’t seem right.

‘Stop!’ She shouted the word at the top of her lungs, bursting into a run. The shadow moved – turning towards her – and as she grew nearer it became a man, dressed all in black.

Only then did Allie realise she didn’t have a weapon. Desperate, she looked around for a long stick, a large rock – anything she could use. She grabbed a twig – too small and fragile to be of use – but now the man was coming towards her, fast.

‘I said stop!’ she bellowed… but then her voice trailed off.

The man had a familiar face.

‘Allie?’ he said. Then he stepped into a thin beam of moonlight that broke through the branches. It was one of Raj’s guards – the one who had been with them in the SUV on the way back from the jail. ‘What are you doing out here?’

‘Were you just… on the lawn?’ She was breathing heavily. A stitch in her side had suddenly opened up like a knife wound and she dropped the twig to clutch her ribs.

‘Yes – we’re patrolling.’ Puzzled, he moved towards her carefully as if she might bolt or bite him. He spoke with elaborate calm – holding out his hands. ‘Do you remember me? I’m Peter. This is Karen.’

A guard with long blonde hair plaited into a single, shimmering braid stepped out from the trees to join him. Allie had seen her, too, working with Night School students.

‘What’s happened?’ Peter asked. ‘Why are you out here?’

‘I thought I saw –’ Allie said breathlessly – ‘Gabe.’

Karen’s eyebrows winged up. ‘And you thought you’d just run out to catch him? On your own?’

‘Well,’ Allie said, feeling utterly exhausted and stupid, ‘someone had to.’

The two guards took her down to a nondescript office in the basement near Training Room One, where Zelazny was less than pleased by what he described as her ‘attempted vigilantism’.

‘You could have been hurt,’ he said with obvious exasperation. ‘Someone else could have been hurt. Sometimes I think all our training is wasted on you, Sheridan. It doesn’t matter what you’re taught – you do the opposite whenever it suits you.’ He gestured around the bare office where the guards stood in a half circle around them. ‘This isn’t your living room. We are not your servants.’

Heat flooded Allie’s cheeks. ‘I’m really sorry,’ she mumbled, lowering her gaze. ‘I didn’t think.’

‘No. You didn’t.’ He leaned forward until she met his eyes. ‘There is a reason for everything we teach you, Allie. We’re not doing this to amuse ourselves. You need to focus or you’re not going to get through this.’ Then he’d picked up a pen and waved a hand to indicate her dismissal. ‘See Isabelle tomorrow after class for your punishment. Now, for heaven’s sake: go to bed.’

The next day, Allie endured all her classes, knowing she’d have to explain her actions to Isabelle that afternoon. The headmistress would not be happy. She’d broken The Rules – did this violate her agreement with Lucinda?

Had she ruined everything?

When her last class of the day finally ended, she walked down the stairs with heavy feet. Her gaze was lowered when Katie Gilmore stepped into her path with such suddenness Allie nearly ran into her.

‘Bloody hell, Katie…’ Allie grabbed the wide oak banister to keep herself upright. ‘What is your malfunction?’

In the light of the crystal chandelier, Katie’s fair skin was flawless; her clear green eyes sparked with malice. ‘Well, goodness. I don’t know. I was hoping a psycho liar who burgled the village church with some smelly pikey boy might be able to tell me. Do you know anyone who fits that description?’

Anger flared in Allie’s chest, hot enough to singe, but she willed it away. She was in enough trouble already.

‘Oh whatever, Katie.’

She moved to bypass Katie but the girl stepped smoothly in front of her, blue pleated skirt swinging.

‘I don’t know why they brought you back. It was the perfect opportunity to get rid of you. Raise the standards around here.’

‘Katie, seriously. Seek. Professional. Help.’ Allie kept her voice as steady and dismissive as she could but she could hear a slight tremor in her own words. It had been a long couple of days – she wasn’t sure she could handle this right now.

‘Allie’s grades are very good, actually. Well above average.’ At the sound of Zoe’s piping voice, Allie and Katie both spun around in surprise to see her standing behind them. ‘The standards are about the same whether she’s here or not.’

Katie eyed her with malicious contempt. ‘Oh look. It’s Robot Girl. Shouldn’t you be off memorising things? Or going through puberty?’ She turned back to Allie. ‘It’s so appropriate the little weirdo likes you.’

Outraged, Allie opened her mouth to defend Zoe, but the smaller girl beat her to it, stepping closer to Katie until she was standing two steps above her, forcing her to look up at her.

‘I’m already going through puberty,’ Zoe said with typical pedantry. ‘The same as you. You start at eleven and finish when you’re seventeen. On average.’

Katie glared. ‘I don’t care, you creepy little android.’

Allie stepped between them. ‘Leave her alone, Katie.’

A crowd began to gather, watching the skirmish with avid curiosity. This was getting out of hand.

Lowering her voice, Allie tried to speak in the same quiet, threatening way she’d seen Mr Patel do when he wanted to intimidate someone.

‘I don’t know what your problem is with me, and I don’t really care. You know who I am; who my grandmother is. Leave me and my friends alone or I will ruin your life. I will make it my mission to break you.’

Katie stepped closer, until their faces were inches apart. ‘I’m not afraid of you, Allie,’ she hissed. ‘And I’m not afraid of Lucinda Meldrum. No one is. You need to tell her —’

But mention of her grandmother’s name was too much – Allie grabbed Zoe’s arm and pulled her with her.

‘Come on, Zoe,’ she said, lowering a freezing glare at Katie. ‘We’re done here.’

When they reached the ground floor, the younger girl spoke, mostly to herself. ‘Puberty is a notoriously