Disharmony (10 page)

‘Do you reckon she feels sorry for you and is just trying to get you out of No Rules Basketball?’ said Zac, as if he’d read Luke’s mind.

‘Who knows? Maybe. I wish she’d hurry up, though. It’s friggin’ freezing out here.’

Zac blew smoke rings with his breath. ‘What if we did just run?’ he said.

From under the cowl of his hoodie, Luke gave Zac a sideways glance, paused a beat. ‘You just got here.’

‘Doesn’t mean I want to stay.’

‘You’d try to escape?’

‘Would you?’

Luke didn’t speak for a moment. He didn’t know how far he could trust Nguyen. Suddenly, he raised his head and squinted into the darkness.

‘Well, anyway,’ he said, ‘it looks like you’re not going to have to worry about being chased by the swamp rat tonight. Listen.’

They heard the engine of a car approaching before they saw the lights.

‘That’ll be McNichol.’

‘Will you be all right if I leave you boys to it for a while?’ said Ms McNichol, standing in the doorway to the biggest office in Admin. She put a hand against the doorframe for support. The skin around her eyes was pale and pouchy.

‘Are you okay, Ms McNichol?’ said Zac. ‘You look kinda wonky.’

‘I’m fine, thank you, Nguyen,’ she said, straightening. ‘Remember, I only need these boxes unpacked. You are not to touch anything else in here. Oh, and one each of the requisition notebooks in this box is to go into each of the pigeonholes over there.’

Gravel crunched at the front of the building and Luke looked up. Who could that be at this time? Ordinarily, the other officers would approach from behind the building, and he’d never heard of deliveries being made at night. Holt liked the place locked down tight; it was when he could make the most of his private disciplinary moments. God, I hope it’s not Holt come down to take us back to the gym, he thought.

‘All right, boys, that sounds like them,’ said Ms McNichol. ‘I do not want you to move from this room while I attend to this.’

The doorbell sounded.

‘Who is it?’ said Luke.

‘None of your business is who it is, Luke Black,’ said McNichol, fixing him with a stare. ‘Get on with your work. It’s just an intake.’

Luke thought he could hear the movements of several
people at the door. McNichol turned and left the room. He stared after her. An intake? At night? That had never happened in the four months he’d been here. He wondered why she’d brought them down here without another officer. And why would she do an intake on her own? The screws usually worked in pairs. He felt Zac watching him.

‘Don’t admissions usually happen in the morning?’ asked Zac.

‘Yep,’ said Luke.

‘Huh,’ said Zac.

‘Mmm,’ said Luke.

‘You know, you never did tell me why you’re in here,’ said Zac, pulling hose-like wrapped cylinders from a huge box of disposable cups. The rolls were almost as long as him.

‘No, I never did,’ said Luke.

‘Here, catch.’ Zac speared a tube of plastic cups through the air towards Luke. The roll soared towards him, lost momentum and dropped, bouncing off his shoulder before sliding to the ground.

‘Oh really,’ said Luke. He picked the tube up from the floor and moved towards Zac, who had armed himself with another one. ‘You’re going down, ninja,’ he said, and swung.

Zac’s arm blocked the move instantly and Luke’s weapon slapped back into his face. He laughed and again raised the plastic roll. He swung and Zac’s arm shot out. The bag split and the cups continued their journey without it. An arc of plastic sprayed through the air as the cups rained down.

‘Damn,’ said Zac, smiling. ‘Good job, Black. How many do you reckon there are?’

Luke looked around. The floor was peppered with plastic; cups rested on every chair and desk. As he watched, one rolled
from the top of a cupboard and fell.

‘Have to be a hundred,’ he said.

‘Looks like you’ve got some work to do, then,’ said Zac.

‘
I
have some work to do?’ said Luke. ‘You started it.’

‘Well, you lost.’

Luke grinned and began collecting cups.

‘What the
hell
is going on in here, Black, Nguyen?’ Ms McNichol stood in the doorway.

‘Everything’s cool, Ms McNichol,’ he said. ‘I just dropped a bag of cups.’

She scowled. ‘It looks more like something exploded. I do not have time for this, Black. You’d better have this mess cleaned up and the rest of those boxes unpacked within fifteen minutes.’

She stepped further into the room and for the first time Luke noticed that there was someone behind her. ‘Take a seat right there, Abrafo,’ she said. ‘And don’t move.’

Handcuffed and in ankle bracelets, Dwight Juvenile Justice Centre’s newest inmate shuffled into the office.

Luke blinked. And then the light left the room in stutters, darkening inwards from the edges of his vision. Luke reached out a hand to steady himself, the world now just a pinpoint of white. He found the back of a chair, which swivelled away from his grasp, and he was falling, blind.

Out.

‘Just stand back a little bit, Nguyen.’ He heard McNichol above him. ‘He’s just fainted. Can’t you see he’s not well? For heaven’s sake – look what that ogre did to his face. He should be in bloody sick bay, is where he should be. Not having the life beaten out of him playing No Rules Basketball.’

Luke breathed calmly, stayed down a while. Well, that
was weird, he thought. He’d never hit the ground without someone giving him a helping hand first. Must still be punch-drunk from that fat Toad. I’ll get you back for that, Toad, he promised himself. He opened his eyes.

‘Hello, Lucifer,’ said the youth in handcuffs sitting in the chair above him.

Luke sucked in air and scuttled backwards.

‘Are you all right, Black?’ said Ms McNichol. ‘Don’t get up too fast. Just put your head between your knees for a bit. You fainted, that’s all. How are you feeling now?’

Luke shook his head. This new kid was superscary-looking. He had a broad nose and lips and tight wiry curls, but his skin was the colour of marble, his hair completely white, and his eyes … His eyes were ice-blue and too light, too bright; they seemed to glow like torches.

And what did he just call me? Luke wondered.

‘What did you call me?’ said Luke.

He became aware of Zac, standing just as he had in the rec hall when he took on Toad, almost humming with controlled energy, ready to spring. Ms McNichol turned to Abrafo with a small frown. The white-haired boy smiled, his mouth a shock of wet pink against his skin.

‘I said: hello, Lucifer,’ said Abrafo. ‘I’ve been very much looking forward to meeting you.’

‘I think you’ve got the wrong bloke,’ said Luke. ‘I don’t know you. Who are you?’

‘Who are
you
? is a better question,’ said Abrafo, his porcelain face angled downwards, his empty, glowing eyes locked on Luke’s.

Luke wasn’t certain whether he was more surprised by Abrafo’s answer or by Zac’s growl.

McNichol coughed.

‘All right, all right. That’s enough catch-up here. We have to get you processed, Abrafo. Seven p.m. is a ridiculous time to try to admit you, but you can’t stay overnight in an adult lockup.’

She bustled about the room, putting together an intake folder. ‘Might have done you some good, though, if you ask me – I don’t know what kind of a ruckus you caused up at the Thurston Centre that made them drive you through the night to us. Get up off the floor now, Black. Am I going to have to take you to sick bay and deal with you too?’

She rested a hand on her back, her belly just touching the edge of the desk in front of her.

Luke got to his feet carefully. Abrafo flicked the tip of his tongue once across his lips, lizard-like, grinning slightly. His eyes glittered, a shock of colour against the correction-fluid white of his hair.

‘I’m fine now, Ms McNichol,’ said Luke, unable to stop staring at Abrafo.

And he wasn’t the only one. He cut his eyes to Zac, who stood completely motionless, watching Abrafo; it seemed as though Zac wasn’t even breathing.

These two must have a history, he thought.

McNichol dropped her paperwork onto the desk and shuffled around it, unclipping her keychain from the belt around her waist.

‘Right, well, Abrafo, you’re going to learn how to behave in Dwight, I can assure you,’ she said.

Luke wondered what Abrafo had done to get himself kicked out of Thurston. He knew the place was full of hard-arses; he’d spent a long two weeks on remand up there on the
Central Coast. It must’ve taken them two hours or more to get him out here to Windsor. Couldn’t they have waited until morning? And why wouldn’t they have briefed McNichol on what he’d done?

Ms McNichol moved around the desk, approaching the new guy, and her eyes narrowed.

‘I’ll just call Matron to come up here, I think, and then we can all escort you down,’ she said. ‘You’ll be in Dorm Four for now. I think you’ll find that Mr Holt will teach you some manners.’

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and thumbed in a code.

‘Yes, Matron, it’s McNichol,’ she said. ‘I’m over in Admin with the new intake. Would you mind coming over to escort him down there with me? Yes, yep … I know … Thanks, Joan.’

She rang off and dropped the phone into her pocket. She moved a little closer to Abrafo’s chair and stopped. Luke thought she looked as ill as he felt. She took a deep breath and shook her head a little. He suspected she’d be on sick report for the next couple of days. Just great, he thought: Holt would be happy. Four weeks into his sentence, McNichol had attended a week-long off-site training course, and Luke had been treated to Holt’s ‘counselling’ every day. For some reason, he’d been the senior warden’s pet project since he got here, and this woman was the only person who seemed to get in the way of his plans.

Ms McNichol coughed and bent to unlock the cuffs around Abrafo’s wrists.

‘You’ve caused a lot of inconvenience tonight, Mr Abrafo,’ she said.

Her face now seemed almost as pale as Abrafo’s, who watched her quietly as she released him from the handcuffs. He flexed his wrists, twirling them slowly.

‘And I don’t know why they’ve put you in these ridiculous things,’ she continued, moving awkwardly to kneel at his feet. ‘I haven’t seen ankle bracelets on children for years. Good God.’

Suddenly, Luke felt the wave of giddiness hit him again. And right then three things happened, and everything got real fuzzy, real fast.

This time he tried to stay on his feet.

Ms McNichol, however, did not, which was the first of the three things to happen. As soon as she’d snicked open the cuffs binding Abrafo’s feet, she slumped to the ground, her trench coat fanned in a puddle around her.

The second thing that happened was that Abrafo rose from the chair, his pink lips drawn back across his teeth in a wide smile. He seemed suddenly much taller than when he’d first walked in. His glowing, empty eyes locked onto Luke’s, and Luke felt a spear of agony shoot through his temple. His neck snapped back with the force of the pain and he raised his hands to his face. Vaguely, he wondered whether his eyeballs were melting.

And then the third thing happened. Maybe. Probably not. Well, what Luke
thought
he saw was Zac fly. One moment Zac was on the other side of the room, furthest from Abrafo. And then he blurred. Luke blinked, and Zac had crash-tackled the white-haired kid. The two thrashed about together like some double-headed monster on the floor. Half the size of Abrafo but twice as fast, Zac’s limbs flashed furiously.

Oh God, what do I do now? Luke wondered. He rubbed
at his eyes, trying to clear them. Everything was distorted. Clearly, Nguyen had some sort of history with this Abrafo. He took a step closer to them, but they were almost fused in a frenzy of movement and he wasn’t sure he could get in there, even if he wanted to.

Zac seemed to be throwing a hundred high-speed blows a minute, but the new kid wouldn’t stay down. He blocked each of Zac’s moves effortlessly, soundlessly. Luke could hear his own rapid breathing over the sound of the fight – he felt as though he was watching a kung-fu movie playing on fast-forward with the mute button on.

He glanced down at Ms McNichol. She wasn’t going to be any help. He stretched out a foot and prodded at her arm. Nothing. Her rounded belly rose and fell. She was breathing, at least. But what had happened to her? Abrafo hadn’t touched her, he was sure of it. She must have had the same attack of the giddies he was having. Could there be a gas leak in here or something? Foster mother number three had told him about two kids in the next suburb who went to bed with a leaky heater on and never woke up. Yeah, a gas leak could explain this.

He turned back to the fight. Whatever it was didn’t seem to be affecting these two. And the quietness of the fight was so weird. No grunting, no swearing. Are they even breathing? he wondered. The only sound was the whir of Zac’s hands through the air and the dull thuds as Abrafo blocked them.

The rhythm of the duel became hypnotic – as Luke watched, the walls of the Admin room faded around him. Now there was only light and dark – the back of Zac’s black head and Abrafo’s ghost-pallor face.