Mutation (15 page)

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Authors: Chris Morphew

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BOOK: Mutation
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F
RIDAY
, J
UNE
19
55
DAYS

Peter shrugged off Montag and the nurse, stumbling over Mr Hanger's collapsed body. His face was white, the reality of what he'd just done starting to sink in.

Pryor looked to Montag. ‘Get Noah,' she said in an undertone, inclining her head at one of the blood testing booths that still had a curtain across it.

Montag nodded and slipped inside, hand in his pocket. Pulling out his phone to call Shackleton. One of only ten phones in Phoenix that actually worked.

I got up. My hands were sticky with Mr Hanger's blood. I wiped them off on my skirt.

The two nurses swooped down on Hanger, armed with a first aid kit. They rolled him onto his back, drawing even more noises of shock from the crowd. His face was a bloodied mess. Mr Hanger was the most hated teacher in the school, and I was sure plenty of these kids had fantasised about taking a swing at him. But the reality was something completely different.

‘All of you – out!' shouted Pryor, scattering them. She glanced down at Mr Hanger. ‘How is he?'

‘He'll live,' said one of the nurses, ‘but –'

‘Good.' Pryor's attention flashed to Peter, Luke and me. ‘This way.'

She led us out of the gym and across the field to her office.

‘Sorry …' Peter mumbled, dazed. ‘I …

I didn't …' I looked out at the town centre, my mind grasping for an escape plan. But running was pointless. One touch of a button and Shackleton could take our legs out from under us.

How had this gotten out of hand so quickly?

Mrs Stapleton was coming out of the front office as we approached. She froze halfway down the steps, eyes wide at Peter's stained hands and spattered clothes. ‘Melinda –'

‘There's been an incident in the gym,' said Pryor. ‘Take care of it, please.' She brushed past Mrs Stapleton and took us inside.

Before we'd even made it to the giant steel door guarding Pryor's office, Dr Montag strode into the building behind us.

‘Well?' said Pryor, swiping her key card.

‘He's coming.'

Pryor's door clunked open and she ushered Luke, Peter and me inside. The office was the same as always: huge wooden table, rug on the floor, identical vases of flowers sitting on identical pedestals.

Pryor heaved the door closed behind her, then bent down and rolled the rug up towards her desk, exposing the rough grey tiles underneath.

‘Shouldn't be long now,' Pryor said, her menacing veneer slipping just slightly.

She was nervous. We'd already stolen her phone and used it to contact Luke's dad on the outside. And now, a whole new mess had just arrived on her turf.

Shackleton had to be losing patience.

By the look of things, Montag wasn't too excited to be here either.

Good.

Still, they both had a whole lot more chance of walking away from this meeting than we did.

A sharp hiss of air cut through the silence, making me jump, and a section of the grey tiles began slowly sinking down into the floor. It dropped about five centimetres, then slid away to the side, revealing a brightly-lit tunnel and a set of silver stairs.

It was a sign of how far we'd all come that they weren't bothering to hide this from us.

I heard gentle padding footsteps, and the withered form of Noah Shackleton came up through the floor to join us.

‘Good morning everyone!' he said brightly, imitating the sing-song voice of a kindergarten teacher. He looked around, as though waiting for us all to respond, but the only sound was the tunnel hissing shut at his feet.

Shackleton crossed the newly-restored floor, stopping toe-to-toe with Peter. I tensed, ready to jump in and defend him if I had to.

A grin crept over Shackleton's face as he examined Peter's bloodied clothes. ‘Dr Montag tells me you were involved in a dispute with one of your teachers just now.'

Peter didn't even look at him.

‘Not speaking?' said Shackleton. He pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to Peter. ‘Here. Why don't you clean yourself up a bit?'

Peter stared at Shackleton's outstretched hand. He glanced over at me, lost. Then he took the handkerchief and slowly began wiping the worst of the blood out from between his fingers.

I watched, skin crawling.

Pryor was looking impatient, but she knew better than to try to hurry things along.

Finally, Peter balled up the handkerchief and let his hands drop by his sides.

Shackleton smiled. ‘Isn't that better?'

‘Sir –' said Pryor, but Shackleton held up a hand.

‘Now then,' he said to Peter. ‘Would you care to remind me of the agreement we made a fortnight ago when you and your friends last visited my offices?'

A long silence. Then, still not looking up, Peter said, ‘You told us … not to tell anyone what we knew … and not to do anything to … not to do anything to make people suspicious.'

‘I believe my precise words were
spend the next
seventy days quietly attending to your schoolwork and
do not put one foot out of line
,' said Shackleton in a tone like he was giving Peter half marks on a maths question. ‘But yes, I believe you've grasped the gist of it.'

I closed my eyes, holding down the crippling dread, trying to come up with something to swing things back into our favour.

‘However,' Shackleton continued, ‘given that your principal does not usually call upon me to intervene in matters of school discipline – especially those which reflect so poorly on her capacity to maintain order –' he added pointedly, ‘I can only assume that Ms Pryor is of the opinion that you have now violated our agreement. I trust you recall the consequences of such a violation?'

Peter nodded.

‘You do,' said Shackleton. ‘In that case, your actions today would seem particularly foolhardy – especially given that your friend Jordan's younger sister is currently in our custody at the medical centre. It would be only too easy for something unfortunate –'

‘You stay away from her!' I said.

‘Jordan,' said Shackleton, turning, ‘you are in a poor position to be making demands.'

‘Ask Dr Montag what started all this!' I said desperately. ‘Ask him why Peter blew up at Mr Hanger.'

Shackleton reeled back, a caricature of shock. He raised an eyebrow at Dr Montag. ‘Rob?'

‘Sir,' said Montag, ‘Peter's reaction was completely disproportionate to any –'

‘He attacked me in the blood test booth!' I said, swinging a hand out at Montag.

‘Is this true?' asked Shackleton.

Luke opened his mouth to speak, but Peter jumped in first.

‘Of course it's bloody true,' he said, firing up again. ‘Ask the fifty kids who saw it happen!'

No fake surprise this time. Shackleton rounded on Montag. ‘How much of a problem is this going to be?'

‘The students only saw a fraction of it,' the doctor said hurriedly. ‘A few seconds at most.'

‘And the beating of the teacher?'

‘They saw the whole thing, but Melinda sent them out as soon as she arrived.'

‘Good,' said Shackleton. ‘Contact Brian as soon as we're finished here. I want the write-up ready for this afternoon's
Herald
. Two known delinquents refuse to take part in blood testing, become violent, attack teaching staff and medical personnel. Despite everyone's best efforts, the incident ends in tragedy.'

I thought
tragedy
was a bit strong. What Peter had done to Mr Hanger was horrific, but the nurse had said he'd be okay.

‘I want quotes from anonymous students and a nice, close photograph of the injured staff member,' Shackleton said. ‘Let them see the damage. Give me a shot of Peter, too.'

Montag nodded. ‘Front page?'

‘Absolutely,' said Shackleton. ‘And Rob, please ensure Brian understands the importance of making the
correct
version of events available to the public.'

‘Yeah, right,' said Peter. ‘As if people are going to believe –'

‘I think you'll find that people will believe what we tell them to believe,' said Shackleton, reaching into his suit pocket. ‘Especially under the circumstances.'

‘What circumstances?' asked Peter.

Shackleton put a finger to his lips and pulled out his phone. He went around behind Pryor's desk and sat back in her chair with the phone held up to his ear.

I started towards the desk. If he did anything to my sister –

‘I wouldn't,' Montag warned.

Shackleton's eyes lit up. ‘Tori, how are you? … No. No, it was nothing serious. Just some trouble down at the school …' Shackleton chuckled. ‘No, nothing like that … I assume we're still on for dinner this evening? … Lovely. Listen Tori, would you mind stepping into my office for a moment? I need you to activate Peter Weir's suppressor for me.'

He said it so casually that it took me a second to even process it.

And then I snapped, bolting across the tiles, almost tripping over the rolled-up rug.

‘No!'

Montag grabbed me from behind.

Peter was quicker. He dived across Pryor's desk. Shackleton rolled back in his chair, still talking into the phone. ‘Yes – quick as you can please, Tori.'

A second later, the phone went clattering across the desk as Peter made another lunge, knocking Shackleton and the chair over backwards.

Montag had his arms bent up under mine, locking my shoulders back against his chest. I jumped up and tucked in my legs, dropping like a rock. Montag lurched forward under the sudden weight, but didn't let go.

‘Do you want to be next?' he hissed. ‘I'm sure Mr Shackleton could arrange it.'

Pryor and Luke were both at the desk by now, staring down from opposite ends. But before either of them had the chance to do anything, Peter had dragged Shackleton up by his jacket and shoved him down on top of the desk.

‘CALL HER BACK!' he shouted, high-pitched with desperation. ‘Call her back and tell her not to do it!'

Shackleton coughed. ‘I'm afraid it's too late for that.'

‘No! You
call her off!'
Tears were pouring down Peter's face. He snatched the phone off the table and slapped it into the side of Shackleton's head. ‘You CALL her! I won't spend the rest of my life in a freaking –'

Peter's pleading turned into a deafening, wordless scream as the suppressor kicked in. He stumbled, teeth clenched, eyes closed, then cried out again and fell to the ground behind Pryor's desk.

Shackleton got up, massaging his back, and said, ‘I really am sorry.'

Luke reached down to help, then recoiled as Peter batted him away.

Peter grabbed Pryor's desk with both hands. He launched himself at Shackleton, spewing obscenities, raging and begging until it was all drowned out in another gut-wrenching scream.

Montag's grip on me began to loosen, and I finally kicked my way free of him. But it was already over. Nothing to do but stand and watch.

Peter staggered back, out into the middle of the room, legs failing again. I swept forward and caught him around the waist, holding him up.

‘The pain will be over soon,' said Shackleton, smoothing down his hair. ‘Fifteen minutes and you won't feel a thing.'

Peter stopped shouting to take a breath, and I heard the bell ringing out in the playground.

‘My goodness,' said Shackleton, eyes flitting between Luke and me. ‘Recess already. I suppose you two had better be off.'

‘If you think we're just going to leave him here with you –'

‘I believe you know what your alternative is,' said Shackleton, bending down to retrieve his phone.

Dr Montag reached out to take Peter.

Peter looked up at me, eyes unfocused, full of fear. ‘Jordan …'

But staying here and getting paralysed too wasn't going to help him.

I stared at the doc, looking for some trace of humanity.

Nothing.

‘You bastard,' I breathed, hefting Peter into his arms.

Pryor pulled her office door open a crack, looked both ways along the corridor, then ushered the two of us outside.

Chapter 18

F
RIDAY
, J
UNE
19
55
DAYS

‘Despite the best efforts of teaching staff and medical
centre personnel to restrain the student, the incident
continued to escalate until, while attempting to resist
capture, Weir fell from a piece of gym apparatus,
sustaining serious back injuries. The youth is currently
being treated in Phoenix Medical, but doctors fear that
the damage to his spinal column may be irreparable.'

Luke threw down the newspaper.

We were sitting outside Flameburger, watching the doors to the medical centre. As soon as school finished, we'd tried to get in to see Peter. But, of course, Montag had left orders for us not to be allowed in.

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