This is Shyness (20 page)

‘I know that guy,' she whispers. She tugs on my jeans. Her mouth is open with surprise. ‘It's Doctor Gregory!'

I look through the rip in the sheet.

She's right. He's removed his sunglasses now—it's definitely him. He looks like a different person in a suit and long black overcoat, with his ginger hair slicked back. The orange tan is still in place, but the cheesy grin has turned grim. Smooth on the outside and rotten underneath.

My skin prickles all over. Doctor Gregory. It makes perfect sense that he's involved with the Kidds and Orphanville. First you create the problem, and then you sell everyone the solution.

Doctor Gregory steps forward as if he knows that we're looking at him. As if he's on the set of another motivational video.

‘Is this what you're looking for?'

His voice rings out clearly despite the open air and whistling breeze. He holds a small silver object above his head with a thumb and index finger. It looks like my lighter, but I don't trust him. He swivels from side to side, holding the lighter up high, making sure we don't miss it, wherever we are.

‘Would you like it?' Doctor Gregory's voice is steel-hard and nothing like the voice he uses in his videos. ‘You must really want it to go to these lengths. I admire that. I don't think young people should be punished for showing such initiative.'

My eyes are fixed on the lighter. It's not as bright as the flashy watch buckled to Doctor Gregory's wrist. I crouch so that I am face-to-face with Wildgirl. ‘We have to get out of here, right now.'

‘Why don't we just talk to him?'

‘The Elf steals my lighter and what does he do? He calls Doctor G, who comes as soon as he can. Don't you see it's strange?'

Wildgirl thinks it through. I don't want to keep whispering with the men nearby, but I have to convince her.

‘We need to get out of here.'

‘How?'

‘Here's how it's going to work, children,' Doctor Gregory's voice rings out again. He sounds like he's wandered closer. ‘You have something of mine; I have something of yours.'

Something of his?

‘One of my employees, it seems, has been quite careless with company property. And one of you has been less than scrupulous in your dealings with it. You give me my bankcard, I'll give you your lighter, and we can forget the whole thing. I'll even overlook any charges made in the course of the evening.'

Shadows settle over Wildgirl's face. She's not going to give up the card without a fight. Doctor Gregory speaks again. The man does not shut up, ever. ‘There's some very pretty engraving on this lighter. What is it? A “G” and an “O”. What can that mean?'

I'm too busy looking at my shaking hands to stop Wild-girl when she steps into plain view.

‘How do you want to do this?'

‘No!' I whisper, but she moves out of sight.

‘Let's be straightforward about this—you hand me my card and I hand you the lighter.'

‘No.' Wildgirl tries to sound confident, but her voice wobbles. ‘You put the lighter on that gallon drum over there, the blue one. And I'll put the card on top of those tins. And then we can retrieve our things. But I don't want you or anyone coming near me, right?'

Doctor Gregory laughs without warmth. I've got to get Wildgirl off the roof. This has nothing to do with her. I don't believe for a second that Doctor Gregory cares about the card.

‘Very well, young lady. We'll play your funny little game, if it pleases you. Hold up the card now so I can see it for a second. I want to make sure it's mine.'

Wildgirl steps back while her hand is in the air, so she enters my line of sight again. Doctor Gregory's footsteps sound out, crisp and sharp. He must be putting the lighter down on the drum. It's almost impossible to make a clear plan when I can't see what's going on. Wildgirl doesn't look at me when I whisper. ‘Is the Elf still there?'

‘Nope.' She replies without moving her lips or turning her head.

‘Put the card where you said you would. Then run for the door. I'll keep them busy.'

‘The lighter?'

‘I'll get it,' I say. ‘Meet me in the tunnel.'

I stand up and watch through the rip in the sheet. When Wildgirl puts down the card I spring into action. I lift the ladder like a battering ram, and charge towards the nearest suit, screaming. Wildgirl sprints for the door. Doctor Gregory lets her go without a second glance.

The man ducks as I try to clobber him with the end of the ladder, and then darts behind me. I swing around, hoping to collect him on the way, but he's too fast. He jumps on my back and clasps his hands against my throat. Something in my backpack presses against me painfully. I let the ladder fall and work on shaking him off. I growl and snap my head backwards, colliding with his nose. There's a squeal as the man slithers to the ground.

I've only got a few seconds to decide how to play this. I bring on the crazy-eyes and feign confusion, all the while checking out possible paths of escape. The man who attacked me has crawled away, leaving a trail of blood. I'm not sure I can outrun three of them.

‘How are you feeling, Jethro?' Doctor Gregory cocks his head like a curious budgerigar. ‘You haven't replied to any of my letters. I'm beginning to think you don't like me.'

I snarl, baring my teeth. I don't want them any closer. The guy I headbutted is on his feet again, by Doctor Gregory's side. The other bodyguard, taller and thinner, completes the trio.

‘Did it feel good?' Doctor Gregory inquires. ‘Hurting Delany like that?'

Delany glowers. The lower half of his face is sticky with blood and saliva and snot. A purple bruise is already spreading from his nose into his eye sockets. I had no idea I could do that with one blow.

‘It must feel good to give way to your animal side,' continues the doctor. ‘To obey your
true nature.

I remember the trowel on the side of my pack and bend my arm up to reach it. Doctor Gregory is watching my face so intently he doesn't notice the movement, but Delany is watching every little thing I do. The trowel comes loose in my hand and I lower my arm.

‘I'm really interested in your situation, Jethro.'

Doctor Gregory takes a step forward, his hands steepled in front of his stomach like a priest or a politician. I flinch and jab the trowel at them. I back away towards the edge of the roof.

Doctor Gregory stops, and holds his hand up to keep his bodyguards at bay. I can't tell if he's trying to make me angry or placate me. He holds up the lighter.

‘I want you to consider me your friend,' he says, and throws it to me. I catch it with one hand and automatically put it in my pocket.

‘You could come live at the institute. I know more about your condition than you realise. I'm happy to share what I know. There are others of your kind there. I think you would find that comforting. After all, you don't have anyone left, do you?'

Others of my kind. Maybe even a cure, or at least an explanation. He's bluffing, isn't he?

The tall bodyguard strokes something at the side of his leg. I stare at his hand until I figure out he has a pair of handcuffs hanging from his belt. They mean to take me with force. The doctor's smarmy voice rolls on.

‘Your little girlfriend's abandoned you. No parents, no brother…'

I leap up onto the concrete barricade as swiftly as I can without losing my balance. The trowel drops to the ground and bounces away. I straighten my legs until I'm more or less upright. The parapet is about a foot wide. I keep my arms out for balance, and I avoid looking to my left, at the yawning twelve-floor drop.

If animal is what they want, then animal is what they'll get.

I face the men and growl, with my lips pulled back and my head shaking from side to side.

Doctor Gregory shouts a quick warning to his bodyguards to hang back. All three men look up at me with expressions that are equal parts horror and fascination.

‘Hold on, Jethro—' the doctor starts, but I'm away.

I run along the knife-edge of the parapet with the biggest strides I dare. I howl as I run, high and loud as I turn the first corner. I run faster up the next length towards the glow of the doorway. I leap back down, hitting the ground running and hurdle a stack of milk crates that blocks my path. I'm close to the door when—SLAM!

I run at full speed into the taller bodyguard. He barely stumbles and has time to land a punch in my gut. My vision dims. When it clears I slam my right fist into his chest. I follow up with my left, barely looking at my target. I feel the bodyguard's skull as my knuckles connect. I don't stop as he hits the ground.

I run towards the yellow glow of the only exit. I clock Delany trying to intercept me, and behind him the dark floating smudge of Doctor Gregory. Delany is too slow.

My feet act on their own, carrying me through the doorway and down towards the stairwell.

I look back to see Doctor Gregory standing in the doorframe. He watches me go, smoothing his hair with one hand.

27

I have the basement door open when I hear it. Reverberating around the stairwell.

A howl.

A long, strangled howl that could only come from Wolfboy.

The sound of him in pain.

I reverse back up the stairs without thinking, covering a flight before I hesitate. What if it's a trap? What if I make it worse? I'll be useless in a fight.

I turn around and keep going to the basement. Tears start falling and they don't stop. The metal grate still lies on the floor at the entrance to the tunnel. How long has it been since Wolfboy and I were here? I stare at the square opening. It doesn't look so appealing now that I'm on my own. I pick the grate up; I can balance it against the entrance to make it look as if it's sealed. I position myself to crawl into the gap, and pull the grate until it lies along the edge. I slide onto my stomach and push myself in backwards. I hope that I'll be able to hold on to the edge with one hand, and drag the grate with the other. But as soon as I slide past my ribs I fall all the way, losing my grip. My hands scrape against the tunnel wall. ‘Shit!' I say, to no one in particular.

The tunnel is empty, but I don't feel like waiting underneath the entrance, exposed. I nurse my hands and walk until I spot an alcove in the wall behind a bundle of pipes. I bend down for a closer look. The space is bigger than I expected. Someone has turned it into a cubbyhole, with blankets and cushions.

My ukulele jams against the pipes, so I slip it off and crawl into the cubby. I sit on a cushion and wipe my face with the corner of a blanket. I am completely and utterly out of my depth.

I wish I'd hurt my hands worse because it's what I deserve. I should have gone back but now it's probably too late. Wolfboy could be lying on the roof, bleeding or unconscious. Doctor Gregory and those men could load him into their car and drive away. This is exactly what I was afraid would happen. I've got nothing left; my wallet, phone and keys are in Wolfboy's bag. What am I supposed to do? Walk home and pretend none of this happened? That I didn't meet him, that he never existed?

I'll wait for ten minutes, or what I guess ten minutes to be. I don't want to go back out there. I don't want this to be the way it ends.

My eyes aren't closed long before I hear someone landing in the tunnel. I'm too tired to consider fighting so I just sit and wait. A face appears under the pipes.

Wolfboy looks as bad as I feel, but relieved to see me. ‘Hey,' I say, as he squeezes into the cubby. I raise two fingers in the peace sign. ‘Magic Happens.'

Wolfboy crawls across the floor and falls into me, burying his face in my neck. I have to bite my lip so I won't cry again. And then, embarrassingly, I do.

I cry for way too long in a very hiccupy and undignified fashion before pulling away to look at Wolfboy. His hair is mussed up and he has a scrape on one cheek. The fight has gone from his eyes.

‘I didn't get the card' is the first thing he says.

The card is the furthest thing from my mind. I can scarcely believe that he's here, alive. I heard him howl like someone was stabbing him through the heart with the trowel.

‘I don't care about that. You're safe. Did you get your lighter?'

He nods.

‘That's good.' It's reassuring that we didn't do this for nothing, but the lighter seems less important now. ‘I'm so sorry. It was my fault we got trapped.'

‘Don't be stupid. It's no one's fault.'

Wolfboy's hand is grimy with dust and blood. ‘Are you hurt?'

He follows my gaze. ‘It's not my blood.' His hand trembles under mine, and I realise he's as shaken up as I am. I touch his cheek. ‘Are you sure you're all right?'

‘I'm fine.'

I wipe my tears away again. I must look like shit. My glamour days are definitely over. ‘What happened?'

‘Doctor Gregory…' Wolfboy struggles for words. ‘There's something really wrong with that guy.'

‘He's a total creep. How did you get away from them?' ‘I didn't know what to do, so I leaped up on the wall. Ran around the edge howling like a madman.'

‘You
what
?' I try to picture the wind grabbing at Wolfboy, the enormous space above and below.

‘I ran around howling and they all watched me like I was a nature documentary.'

So that was the howling I heard. Some of the tightness in my chest dissipates.

‘And then?'

‘I made a break for the door. And then I took the stairs.'

‘They let you go without a fight?'

Even as I'm asking I realise I already know the answer. Wolfboy's face flames with more than just the graze on his cheek. ‘No. I took care of them.'

‘Meaning?' I look at his bloody hand again.

‘Meaning, I punched one of them in the head so hard I don't think he'll wake up until next year. And I head-butted the other one. Doctor Gregory watched me do it.' Wolfboy's hands wrap around his head as if he's trying to hold the pieces of his skull together.