‘Bears!’ Dale shouts, grabbing Mr Tomkins with his crusty hands. He smears blood and some kind of green mush all over the pink T-shirt Mr Tomkins wears for every mufti school event cos he thinks it’s really trendy.
‘Calm down, Dale. You’re hurt, you’ve had a bump on the head.’
‘Get on the coach, turn around. Get us away!’ Dale is ranting and swaying. ‘They’ll get us if we stay here. They’ll get us all.’
Finally he loses his battle with sanity-slash-consciousness and keels over in the road, dropping like Santa’s sack at the end of his Christmas Eve deliveries. Miss Rani runs out with a towel to put under his head. He flaps his hands around weakly and looks like he might try to get up, but at last he goes limp and still.
‘Like a rotting goldfish,’ I say, as Mr Tomkins starts to cover him with a blanket.
‘OMG, he’s dead!’ Atul shouts.
‘I don’t think he’s dead. Probably just passed out from blood loss or shock.’ Big Mak seems strangely knowledgeable about life-threatening injuries.
‘Or he has concussion,’ says Adrianne.
‘I hope he’s not dead,’ Katja says, rubbing the grimy window with her sleeve to try and see more clearly. ‘No, look. Mr Tomkins hasn’t covered his head. They always put the blanket over the face if they’re dead.’
‘If he isn’t dead,’ I say, ‘he soon will be with that blanket over him. It’s about a million degrees today. Poor guy.’
We watch as the adults, who supposedly know exactly what they’re doing in situations like this, have a worried chat amongst themselves. Finally, Hoche gets back on the coach.
‘Right, children – it’s your lucky day. You get to start your Crater Lake adventure early!’
‘Is the dead guy part of the experience?’ Big Mak asks.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Maksym. The chap outside has just had a bit of a bump on the head, so he’s having a lie down while he waits for some medical attention. He’s perfectly fine.’
We look through the blood-smeared window at half-dead zombie, Dale. Miss Hoche really does talk a load of garbage.
‘The driver is going to wait with him, and we’re going the rest of the way to the activity centre on foot. With the luggage. It will be like a cross-country hike.’
Of course everyone groans. It’s too hot to move, let alone drag our massive bags down a gravelly road.
Ten minutes later, we’re walking down the road in twos, loaded down with masses of stuff.
‘See you in a few days,’ Miss Hoche calls to the driver. ‘We’ll call for help as soon as we get to a landline.’
‘Have fun, kids,’ the driver nods to us, sweat dripping off his nose.
‘Eyes forward, please, children,’ Hoche says as we pass not-dead Dale and his blood-spattered section of the road. ‘Aren’t we fortunate to be surrounded by such beautiful countryside, and on such a lovely day.’
‘Not such a lovely day for Dale.’ Katja looks at him sadly.
‘How far do you think it is?’ Chets asks, looking around nervously. ‘Do you think there are bandits in the woods?’
Big Mak, Katja and I burst out laughing.
‘What is it? What’s funny?’
‘Only you would use the word “bandits”, Chets,’ Mak says.
‘I don’t think there are any bandits outside of the Wild Wild West,’ I say, pushing the strap on my backpack further up my shoulder cos it’s starting to dig in.
‘Well, someone attacked that guy,’ Chets says.
‘And did you hear what he was saying to Mr Tomkins?’ says Katja. ‘All that stuff about having to turn back or they’ll get us all.’
‘He might have been hallucinating – heat exhaustion or the bang on the head.’ Big Mak is the only one of us apparently not struggling with his bags. I swear he’s part giant.
‘Maybe he was mugged,’ Katja says.
‘I don’t think so. Muggers lurk in dark alleys or park bushes. They don’t hang out in the woods. They have to stay near the fried-chicken shops because that’s where they get their food.’
Chets says this with a completely straight face. This is why we love him.
We laugh so hard.
‘So we’ve ruled out zombies and muggers,’ I say. ‘What’s left? Badgers with a vendetta?’
‘Orcs,’ says Mak.
‘Tree monsters,’ says Katja.
‘Alien body-snatchers,’ I joke and even Chets laughs this time. ‘You were probably right the first time, Chets. It’ll be those pesky bandits. We’d better get to this cruddy activity centre and call the sheriff.’
As we trudge round the corner I see the looming gates of Crater Lake, starkly black against the clear blue sky.
3
Entering the Crater
By the time we reach the gate, we’re the kind of hot that’s so intense you can’t even remember what cold feels like. We dump our bags on the ground while Hoche looks for a way in. On either side of the gate is a spike-topped fence that stretches through the woods for as far as I can see. And on the other side of the gate there is only the dusty road and a butt-load more trees.
‘Shouldn’t someone be here to open the gate?’ Mr Tomkins asks. ‘I thought they were expecting us.’
Now that the moment of shock and horror is over, I can tell he’s seriously triggered about his favourite T-shirt.
‘I think it’s fantastic that they take security so seriously. The children are going to be completely safe here,’ Hoche says.
‘She’ll probably give them a sticker for that,’ I say, and the others laugh.
Without warning, the gates shudder and start to open.
‘Like magic,’ Hoche beams.
‘There are cameras, Miss,’ Adrianne says, pointing to the top of the gateposts.
‘Not Hogwarts, though, is it?’ Katja whispers.
‘More like Arkham Asylum,’ I say, as the gates rattle to a stop and the space between them seems to beckon us in a creepily silent way.
‘Where actually is the centre?’ Mr Tomkins says, looking down the winding road that disappears over the horizon. ‘Is it much further? It looks like miles.’
‘He wants to get his T-shirt in the wash,’ I say.
‘Before that stain dries in,’ Katja giggles.
‘I’m sure it’s not much further!’ Hoche grabs the handle of her wheelie case. ‘Come on – let’s sing some motivational songs to make the walk more pleasant.’
We all groan. Our mouths are rabbit-poo dry and the last thing we want to do is sing. Miss Hoche struts ahead anyway, pulling her case, which is cream-coloured with sparkly bits on it, the same as her jacket (yes, she’s wearing a flipping jacket) and shoes. Nobody has ever seen Miss Hoche wearing shoes that aren’t high heels. She wears them in the snow. She wears them on Sports Day. And apparently she wears them to activity centres in the middle of nowhere. William Breeming from Year Four swears he saw her when he was on holiday in Switzerland, and that she was wearing high heels while skiing. Nobody really believes that he saw her, because we all know that teachers don’t do anything with their lives outside of school, but the thought of her wearing heels on skis is not that much of a stretch.
So we walk for ages, until finally the road starts to dip downwards and we get our first proper view of Crater Lake.
The crater is bigger than I thought – it’s like a bowl set into the ground and it’s roomy enough to be the next Jurassic Park. A river wiggles back and forth down the least steep side and flows into the lake at the bottom. A wooden pier thing stretches from a hut at the edge of the lake into the middle, and there are canoes lined up against it. Halfway up the steeper side is a large building that looks kind of like a school, or a prison, although those are pretty much the same thing. There’s a flat, grassy area next to the building and I can see a climbing wall at one end and the obstacle course running across it. Overall it looks like either a completely awesomely fun place, or the perfect location for a Goosebumps book.
‘Do
you think there are snakes?’ Chets asks, edging forward to peer down the slope of the crater. His foot catches on a mound of moss and he almost tumbles down the hill.
‘Oh, man!’
Chets is not a fan of nature.
‘Maybe little ones,’ I say. ‘Nothing poisonous.’
‘I wish we were sharing a room.’
I should tell you about how me and Chets became friends. Chets joined halfway through year one, when all the friendship groups were basically formed. Nobody made much of an effort with Chets. He wore his uniform too neatly and looked like a lost baby owl. I kind of felt sorry for him, but I had my own troubles to deal with. Anyway, he was standing on his own one lunchtime when a wasp landed on his ear. Everyone else screamed and laughed and ran to a safe distance, but he just stood there. The fear on his face was like nothing I’d ever seen before. He was more scared in that moment than I’d ever been of anything in my life, and I couldn’t stand it. I ran over and flicked the wasp away. I saved Chets and got stung in the process. It’s pretty much been like that ever since.
One thing I can’t do for Chets, as Hoche so unkindly reminded everyone, is share a room. I’ve never had a sleepover at my house, and I’ve never slept over at anyone else’s, because … reasons. The word at school is it’s because I’m a vampire, and that wasn’t really helped by the fact that when some of my teeth grew in, they looked sort of pointy. They’re rubbed down a lot now, but people don’t like to forget that kind of thing. That’s why they call me Fangs. But, as I can’t tell them the truth, I just suck it up and hope that one day my life will be normal.
So I just say, ‘Sorry, Chets.’
We start making our way down the slope towards the building. The air is so thick with heat that we practically have to chew our way through it, and all I can hear is the crunch of our feet on the gravel path.
‘It’s so quiet,’ Katja says.
‘Like end-of-the-world quiet,’ I agree.
‘If it was the end of the world,’ Big Mak stops to take a sip of water, ‘do you think Hoche would still be wearing those shoes?’
‘Probably,’ says Chets.
‘Imagine if she put on some trainers,’ I say. ‘It would be like the first sign of the apocalypse.’
‘Mum says presentation is important, and that it’s impressive that Miss Hoche sets such a great example for us all,’ Chets says.
‘Yeah, but your mum also makes you wear a shirt and tie on non-uniform day, when the rest of us are chilling in our jeans,’ I say. ‘Not sure we should agree with everything she comes out with.’
‘True dat,’ says Chets, and we all crack up again.
By the time we reach the building’s entrance we still haven’t seen a single human being.
‘Shouldn’t there be Crater Lake dudes around, like, doing stuff?’ Big Mak says.
Hoche presses a buzzer next to the door. Nothing happens.
‘They must be busy getting ready for us,’ she says and buzzes again – three loud blasts.
We stare at the frosted glass on the double doors but can’t see any movement behind it.
She presses again, holding down the buzzer for a good ten seconds.
Nothing but silence.
A screech and a crackle suddenly splits the air in two and a voice says over some kind of tannoy system: ‘Attention, Montmorency pupils and teachers. Welcome to Crater Lake, where adventure awaits. I have released the lock, please push the door and seat yourselves in the waiting area. I will be with you presently to prepare you for a visit that will change you forever.’ Another crackle, and the door clicks open.
We sit in the waiting room, which is so new it still smells of paint, and chat amongst ourselves. It’s been a weird day so far and something about Crater Lake just feels off.
We expect stuff to happen, for people to come and tell us what’s going on, but we’re left alone for ages. Adrianne walks over to the other two doors in the room and pulls on the handles, but they’re both locked.
At last the door opens and a huge man with a bald head walks into the room. ‘Apologies for the delay,’ he says, wiping his hands on his trousers. ‘Which one of you is Miss Hoche?’
‘That would be me,’ Hoche jumps up. I can tell she’s torn between being annoyed by the wait and wanting to carry on pretending that everything is just fabulous.
‘Welcome to Crater Lake,’ the man says. ‘My name is Digger.’ He points to his name badge as if to prove Digger actually is his name, which, to be fair, I’m a bit doubtful about. ‘I’m the centre manager here, and, as our very first guests, I wanted to take care of you myself.’
‘That’s super, Digger.’ Hoche pronounces his name as if it tastes disgusting in her mouth. ‘There’s been an accident just outside your gates. A young chap who works here seems to have had a mishap and is unconscious in the road. Our coach and driver are waiting with him but we have no mobile reception. Could you call an ambulance urgently, please?’
‘One of our chaps?’ Digger asks, not looking especially concerned.
‘His name is Dale,’ Adrianne says. ‘He’s wearing a Crater Lake polo shirt. Have you not noticed he’s missing?’
‘Ah yes, Dale. We have been looking for him. He’s unconscious, you say?’
‘Unconscious and bleeding from the head.’ Hoche nods.
‘Possibly dead,’ Chets says.
‘Thank you so much for letting me know,’ Digger says. And get this – he smiles, really smiles. Me, Chets, Katja and Big Mak raise eyebrows at each other.
‘I’ll deal with him immediately. Please excuse me for one minute more.’
‘Of course,’ Hoche says.
Digger goes back through the door, which magically opens for him even though it’s stuck tight for all of us.
‘Maybe he has super-strength,’ I say. ‘He walks like a minotaur.’
‘Or maybe this is Hogwarts after all,’ says Katja.
When he comes back, he and the teachers talk business and so do we. So far this trip has not been what we expected. A lot of seriously weird stuff has gone on and we haven’t been even near a rope swing or made to build a replica of the Shard out of lolly sticks. And, apparently, we’re not going to be participating in any activities today.
‘Children,’ Hoche says. ‘We’ve decided that the best thing to do is relax tonight and start fresh in the morning. Once we’ve unpacked, perhaps you could give us a tour of the centre, Digger?’
‘I’m afraid the staff are busy and I’m needed elsewhere. We’ll make sure you’re fully acquainted with Crater Lake tomorrow. May I show you to your rooms?’ Digger says, picking up about ten suitcases and walking through the door without giving her a chance to argue.
As he hoists a backpack over his shoulder, I notice some spatters down the side of his polo shirt.
‘Is that blood?’ Big Mak asks. ‘It looks like blood.’
Unfortunately, Trent is right behind us. ‘I thought you vampires only attacked people at night, Sparshott,’ he laughs. ‘Couldn’t wait to sink your fangs in, could you?’
‘Lance has been here the whole time, Trent,’ Chets says. ‘It couldn’t have been him.’
‘Well, I don’t see any other bloodsuckers around here, Chubby.’
Trent and his mates crack up.
‘What’s all the noise?’ Hoche glares over at us.
‘Lance and Chetan were just discussing dinner, Miss.’ Trent smirks.
‘Then I shall have to take a house point from Lance for being rude and disruptive.’
Totally fair.
‘Is dinner almost ready to be served, Digger?’ she asks the walrus on legs, who is striding ahead.
‘Dinner?’ He stops for a moment but doesn’t turn around. ‘Dinner. Yes, dinner will be ready … soon. The staff have been preparing it.’
‘Fabulous. And could I trouble you for something to drink first, please, Digger?’ Hoche says. ‘We’ve walked a long way in this heat and the children could really do with some cool water.�
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Digger drops the bags he’s carrying. His hands fall to his sides. He sort of shivers, which is weird because, like I said, it’s extra-hot in here. He seems to take a moment. You’d think she’d asked him to murder a baby swan or something. Then he bends to pick up the bags. ‘There are drinking fountains in the communal areas. Please help yourselves.’
He walks us down a wide corridor and stops at the top of a narrow flight of stairs which, unlike the rest of the place, doesn’t look newly decorated.
‘The single room is down there, for the child with special needs,’ Digger says, pointing to a door at the bottom of the stairs that looks suspiciously like it leads to a basement.
‘Lance!’ Hoche and Trent call at the same time.
A few people snigger. I pick up my bags and push through the class to the stairway.
‘Looks like the place where all the bodies are buried,’ Chets whispers.
‘Perfect for Fangs, then,’ Trent says.
‘Vampires suck blood from the living, not the dead, idiot,’ I say, as I accidentally whack his shoulder with my backpack.
‘The room is fully furnished,’ Digger says. ‘But for significant reasons we had to rechannel resources, so the outside isn’t complete.’
‘I’m sure it will be adequate for Lance,’ Hoche says. ‘It’s better than he deserves, anyway.’
The rest of the class continue down the corridor, Big Mak, Katja and Chets turning to smile encouragingly at me before they go. I tell myself I’m not that bothered – that I’m OK with being alone. And it’s true that the thought of sharing a room with anyone makes me feel sick.
Crater Lake Page 2