Breaking the Circle

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Authors: S. M. Hall

BOOK: Breaking the Circle
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Text copyright © Sylvia Hall 2012
The right of Sylvia Hall to be identified as the author of this work
has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs
and Patents Act, 1988 (United Kingdom).

First published in Great Britain and in the USA in 2012 by Frances Lincoln Children’s Books, 4 Torriano Mews, Torriano Avenue, London NW5 2RZ
www.franceslincoln.com

All rights reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electrical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or
otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher or a licence permitting restricted copying. In the United Kingdom such licences are issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency, Saffron
House, 6-10 Kirby Street, London EC1N 8TS.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978-1-84780-122-7
eISBN: 978-1-78101-071-6

Set in Palatino LT

Printed and bound by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY in December 2011

1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2

Thank you to Colin, for always being there – S. M. H.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

The girl stood stone-still in the middle of the pavement. She was small and thin, dressed in black – scuffed leather jacket, tight, frayed jeans and worn boots. Her
clothes were too heavy, her face too pale for such a hot late summer day. Beneath a strand of lank, gold hair, her eyes moved restlessly, scanning the people hurrying home.

As Maya drew closer, she was aware that the girl was watching her. When she was level, the girl stepped into her path.

‘Got any spare change?’

Maya stopped, patted her pockets, gave an apologetic shrug and shook her head. She couldn’t give money to everybody. This area was getting worse, full of crazy people living on the
edge.

The girl repeated her request, her voice sharper, more insistent.

A sour smell of sweat came off her as she raised a cupped hand in front of Maya’s face. Irritated, Maya reeled back, ready to walk away, but the girl whispered something – words in a
foreign language, words that were strange yet also familiar. The words were no doubt curses, but they sent Maya’s thoughts spinning. She looked into the girl’s face; the eyes that
stared back were a startling, luminous gold. Maya felt as though she’d been zapped.

Despite the heat, a shiver ran through her. She tore her eyes away from the girl and stumbled forward. As she walked away, she felt the girl’s eyes burning into her skin.

A few steps ahead, Maya knew the girl was following; she could hear her leather jacket rustling, her black boots scuffing the pavement. A split-second decision – should she take the short
cut? Her heartbeat quickened as she turned into the narrow alleyway – she wouldn’t be bullied into going the long way round.

Keeping her steps deliberate and measured, she walked along the hard dirt path between high walls, a skinny girl at her back – a girl who looked unwashed and in need of a good meal. Maya
wasn’t worried, she could sort her out if she had to.

The alley was littered with broken glass, plastic bags and weeds. As Maya dodged the debris, the girl’s boots scraped behind her, kicking at a bottle and sending it spinning. A thin tabby
cat sprang from the shadows and clawed up the side of the wall. Moving to the edge of the path, Maya stopped and switched her heavy bag to the other shoulder, alert, listening – the girl had
stopped too.

Up ahead, the sun was still shining, silhouetting blocks of tall flats against blue sky – beyond them, the park and home. With determined steps, Maya strode forward. If she hadn’t
stayed at school for athletics practice, she’d be home by now, finishing schoolwork, looking forward to watching
Hollyoaks
. She had no regrets about the races, though –
she’d thrashed everybody. A thrill of pride ran through her as she remembered the last race; five hundred metres and she’d clocked a personal best. Soon it would be the inter-schools
championship. Bring it on! She was ready.

Head down, plotting a race strategy, she forgot about the girl following. She didn’t see the guy behind a screen of bushes, was totally unaware of the girl taking out a mobile and speaking
into it softly, urgently. The first thing she knew was a swish of movement at her heels, a tug at her blazer, a bony hand clamping her shoulder.

’Give me the money. Give me the mobile.’ The girl’s eyes were like a cat’s, liquid amber glowing in her face. ‘You, you give me.’

’No!’

Slow to react to a sharp push, Maya was sent reeling. She hit the ground –
whack!

Fight back, fight back!

Fingers clutched her hair, twisting and wrenching; her schoolbag was ripped from her shoulder.

Charged with anger, Maya swung into action, lashing out, lunging for her bag, grasping the strap. The girl tugged hard but Maya’s training kicked in. Reeling the girl in like a fish, she
held her tight, then relaxed her grip for a vital split second. Sensing victory, the girl pulled back, but at that precise moment, Maya yanked her down, put an armlock round her neck and rolled her
onto her stomach.

’You can’t have my bag, right?’ Maya said, pushing the girl’s head down.

The girl mumbled, her mouth full of dirt.

’Who are you?’ Maya asked, jolting the girl’s head.

’Get off. Let go!’ the girl spluttered, kicking wildly.

Maya held her down. Then a man’s voice shouted, ‘Leave ’er!’

Hoping for help, Maya glanced over her shoulder. She gulped. A snarling dog was charging towards her, ears pricked, eyes like laser pens, its slavering jaws bared in a vicious snarl. Her eyes
were riveted, muscles tensed, but she couldn’t move – there was nowhere to run. The dog was so close that any moment now it would sink its teeth into her skin. At a command from the
man, the dog dropped into the dirt. A low, savage growl came from its throat, clumps of froth fell from its mouth.

’What’s up? Scared?’

A young guy in a black hoodie ambled towards her, his face sharp and bony, eyes half-hidden by the shadow of the hood. As he bent to clip the dog onto a silver chain, she noticed his long, thin
nose; his lips turned up in a mocking smile.

A snappy response to his stupid question went through Maya’s head.

Too right I’m scared. Isn’t that the reason you have that rabid dog with you – to scare the guts out of people?

But she couldn’t speak. The dog was hypnotising her with its mad stare, and all the time it was snarling and slavering as if contemplating its next meal. Fear sang through her bones.

They can smell you, they can smell fear.

The boy sniffed and spat as Maya slowly, very slowly, eased herself off the girl, who was still underneath her, and rolled away from the dog.

’Gimme the bag,’ the boy ordered.

Maya hesitated – there was no way she was putting her arm near that crazy dog.

’Give it ‘ere.’

He yanked the dog away from her as he reached out his hand. The dog pulled sideways, sending the guy slightly off-balance. Fast as lightning, Maya dipped a hand into the bag and grabbed her
mobile. It was just going into her pocket when he spotted it.

’I’ll ‘ave that,’ he said. ‘Get it, Kay.’

The girl, who’d been silent and still ever since he appeared, levered herself up, limped over and went to take the mobile, but Maya clutched it to her chest.

’It’s mine. You can’t take it!’

The girl backed away, looking puzzled and uncertain. She tugged at the zip of her leather jacket, hunched her shoulders and stared down at the ground, biting her knuckles. The fight had gone out
of her, but the boy was on a mission and he took charge.

’I can ‘ave what I like, or Gunner’ll ‘ave you. You don’t wanna mess with Gunner.’

On cue, the dog snarled. Defeated, Maya opened her hand.

’Take it, Kay,’ the boy said, laughing cruelly as the girl limped over and took the mobile. ‘What you done to yourself?’ he snapped.

The girl, Kay, winced as she put weight on her foot. ‘My ankle is hurt.’

‘Serves you right. What you doin’, robbin’ schoolgirls?’

’It’s your fault, you ask me for money.’

’So, what you messin’ at ‘ere? Get back to base an’ earn some proper cash.’

Kay sniffed. ‘No. I will not do that. I am your girl.’

He leaned forward. ‘You’re too particular. Think you’re special?’ He laughed. ‘Come on, give that ‘ere,’ he added, indicating the mobile.

’No, it’s mine, it’s good. I will sell it, give you money.’

A fist slammed into the girl’s arm, sending the phone flying. Maya saw her chance and didn’t hesitate. She caught the mobile, veered round them and ran for her life. In a flash she
saw the wall was slightly lower towards the end of the path and threw herself at it, leaping up, fingers clawing at the top of the wall as the dog came roaring towards her. Barking and yelping, it
snapped at her heels. She kicked out, her foot connected, thudding into the dog’s jaw, sending it reeling.

In the split second it took the dog to recover, she managed to get one elbow on top of the wall. She was just swinging her legs up out of danger when the dog leapt wildly below her, catching a
piece of her skirt in its teeth. It hung suspended by the cloth, a bite away from her flesh. She had to do something or it would mangle her leg. Jerking her body sideways, she smashed a fist down
on Gunner’s forehead. With a strangled gasp, the dog fell.

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