chance to find out more about what was really going on, it was worth taking all the chances.
It was only now that they were in the middle of it that Allie’s doubt gene kicked in.
They knew that by bringing Rachel into the section of the school reserved solely for the group’s secret activities, and dressing her in someone else’s Night School gear, they were breaking several of the school’s inviolable Rules.
‘How can you be so calm about this?’ Allie asked Nicole. ‘Aren’t you worried about getting expelled?’
‘I am sorry but if one of the teachers says to me, “You broke The Rules,” I will say to them, “Well, where the hell is Eloise? Where the hell is Jo? Where is Ruth?”’ Nicole’s French accent grew thicker when she was angry. ‘Where were you when the school fell apart? And I think that will be the end of that conversation.’
Allie had to admit she had a point. The whole situation was so intensely wrong, what did The Rules matter any more? Was anyone keeping score?
As they talked, Zoe stood in one corner of the dressing room, clad fully in her black Night School gear and kickboxing the air, chirping with each move, like a small, angry crow.
Allie worried about bringing her, too. She was fast and smart but… so young. So small.
Before she could think it through, though, Rachel distracted her.
‘This doesn’t fit.’ She stood in front of a mirror, eyeing herself dubiously; the pilfered top ended in the middle of her midriff, revealing a few inches of latte-coloured skin. ‘I’m too tall.’
‘Jules is tall like you,’ Nicole said, pulling her long hair back into a ponytail. ‘Try hers.’
Across the room, Rachel picked up the new black top, weighing it in her hands. Allie, who was wearing one just like it, knew it was light but very warm, made of the kind of material used for ski clothes.
‘This is so weird,’ Rachel said, pulling off the too-small top and trying on the larger size. ‘I can’t believe we’re doing this.’
Zoe stopped kickboxing to look at her. ‘We do this stuff all the time.’
Rachel studied her, a thin line appearing between her brown eyes. ‘I know.’
All her life, Rachel had tried to learn nothing about Night School. She’d absorbed a great deal of information because her father was very involved in it but she’d always been resolute about having as little as possible to do with it.
Allie watched soberly as she pulled on the last of her Night School garb – transforming herself from a brainy student into a fighter. Jules was a couple of inches shorter than her, but her gear fit well enough. Like the others, she was now clad entirely in black, with thick leggings and warm running shoes. Her dark curly hair was tucked under a black knitted cap.
‘I look like the Hamburglar,’ Rachel grumbled.
‘Can we get going?’ Standing by the door, Zoe hopped on one foot impatiently until they all, at last, lined up behind her.
Then she flipped out the lights and opened the door.
It was midnight. Curfew began an hour ago.
The basement corridor was dark; they crept along it in absolute silence. Sticking close to Rachel, Allie lit the way with a special torch that emitted a pale blue light – enough to show obstacles in front of them but difficult to detect from a distance. The others didn’t need a light – they’d been down this hallway so many times they could do it with their eyes closed.
Raj’s guards weren’t following their usual schedule so they couldn’t be certain when the patrols would pass. But the guards were coming by less frequently than they used to so their chances of getting out unnoticed were good.
The decreasing patrols were worrying: the school leaders must truly believe they’d caught their spy if they were easing back on security.
Ahead, Zoe had stopped at the base of a set of stairs, holding up her hand. The others waited as the younger girl darted up to the top. A door swung open without a sound and a wave of cold damp air flowed over them. Steadying herself, Allie inhaled its cool freshness deeply.
She glanced surreptitiously at Rachel; like the others, she stood unmoving, staring at the opening through which Zoe had disappeared. Her nervousness was betrayed only by the fine sheen of sweat on her forehead and the way her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides.
Reaching out, Allie took Rachel’s hand and squeezed it. Without looking at her, Rachel squeezed back.
Then Zoe appeared at the top of the stairs and motioned for them to follow.
Allie let go of Rachel’s hand.
Ducking low and moving stealthily, the girls ran up the stairs and into the night. As they raced across the lawn, the only sound was the squelching of the cold mud under their shoes and the sound of their breathing.
With each step Allie waited for the shout – for someone to spot them and haul them in. Her muscles were tight with tension as they sped across the flat open ground. But the shout didn’t come.
When they made it to the forest, she relaxed a little, falling into line behind Rachel but ahead of Nicole, who brought up the rear. They were safer here, virtually invisible in the dark.
With each step, Allie was reminded of how out of shape she was. How she was still healing. She was glad Rachel’s presence gave her an excuse to take it slow. Rachel hated exercise – Allie could hear how laboured her breathing was. But she kept going.
It took them around ten minutes to reach the edge of the stone wall surrounding the old chapel. Zoe slowed her pace and they followed suit. A few minutes later Allie saw the battered old gate ahead of them – it stood open.
Her heart tripped but she kept running, and reminded herself that this was the plan.
Right on time, two shadows slipped out of the dark churchyard – silent as wraiths. The girls increased their pace.
Allie watched as the Carter shadow sped ahead to join Zoe in the lead. The Sylvain shadow slipped back to the end of the line, joining Nicole.
Zoe and Carter led them past the chapel then turned on to a second path towards the stream. At Zoe’s signal, they all crouched low and slowed, moving with absolute quiet.
On one side of the footpath a small stone cottage appeared out of the darkness. This was Mr Ellison’s home, and the place where Carter had lived as a child. To Allie it had always looked like a house from a fairy tale, with gingerbread trim and a garden full of lush flowers.
The lights were all off but a faint curl of smoke still hung above the chimney; the gardener had gone to bed, but not long ago.
As they crept by, Allie noticed winter roses growing, pale and unexpected, along the stone wall. She touched one with her black glove as she passed – it seemed too beautiful to be real. Her touch shook raindrops loose from the bush and they pattered on to the ground below.
From out of nowhere, Sylvain grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the wall. Catching her eye he gave her a warning look. Even now, in these circumstances, his blue eyes made her heart stutter. She nodded apologetically and, after a second, he let go, dropping back out of sight.
The second path was narrower and rougher than the main footpath – it had been much less travelled upon. Fallen branches and stones made it treacherous. It slowed them down and made it difficult – if not impossible – to move with stealth.
When they reached a point where the path was blocked completely by a fallen tree, they stopped. Grabbing a branch, Zoe hopped up on to it and over to the other side, light and quick as a squirrel.
Carter followed with more effort. Then, one by one, they helped each other across. After helping Rachel over, Allie grabbed the branch to pull herself up but the movement caused a stabbing pain in her knee. She clutched her leg, willing it to stop.
From below, a warm hand grabbed her arm to steady her and she looked down into Carter’s dark eyes.
‘You OK?’ he whispered.
She nodded and prepared to jump down. But before she could make the leap he grasped her waist and lifted her to the ground. It was exactly the kind of thing he used to do, back when they were friends, and Allie
