A Dangerous Game
Page 1
First published in 2018 in Great Britain by
Barrington Stoke Ltd
18 Walker Street, Edinburgh, EH3 7LP
This ebook edition first published in 2020
www.barringtonstoke.co.uk
Text © 2018 Oneta Malorie Blackman
Illustrations © 2018 Mike Lowery
The moral right of Oneta Malorie Blackman and Mike Lowery to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in any part in any form without the written permission of the publisher
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library upon request
ISBN: 978-1-80090-026-4
For Neil and Elizabeth, with love
CONTENTS
1. I Told You
2. A Blue Tartan Sky!
3. Sam’s Such a Wimp!
4. Loch Lomond
5. We’re On Our Own
6. That’s Not Right!
7. Gunge and Mud
8. We’re Lost!
9. Help Me!
10. What Are We Going to Do?
11. Trouble
12. Angry Monster
13. Hospital
Author's Note
Chapter 1
I Told You
“Come on, Sam,” said Billy. “Show them you can do it.”
The cheers and jeers of the crowd around Sam were so loud that he could only just hear his best friend Billy. Sam tried to ignore the frantic beat of his heart slamming against his ribs. He tried to ignore the deafening noise all around him. Instead, he forced himself to focus on his arms. Big mistake! The muscles in Sam’s upper arms felt like they’d locked solid and caught fire!
“Come on, Sam!” Billy’s yells were even more urgent now.
“What a wimp!” said another voice. “Look at the sweat dropping off his forehead. He’s only done four press-ups and he’s ready to pass out.”
Sam didn’t need to look up to know who’d just spoken. Brandon.
I am not a wimp, Sam thought. I’ll show you, maggot-face! I can do this, I know I can. I just need to push! Sam tried to relax his arm muscles a tiny bit – so that they’d unlock without the rest of his body crashing to the floor.
Push!
Sam gritted his teeth so hard they felt like they’d shatter at any second. He tried to force his arms to push the rest of his body upwards. At that moment, Sam felt as if he had an adult elephant sitting on his back. His mum was always nagging him about how skinny he was and how he needed to put on more weight to become stronger. But Sam didn’t feel the least bit strong right then!
“Almost, Sam. Almost,” screamed Billy. He sounded like he was about to burst a blood vessel. But Sam had never been so grateful for the sound of Billy’s voice.
He could do it … He could do it …
He couldn’t!
Sam collapsed in a heap on the gravel below him. A sharp piece of stone dug into his chin, but Sam didn’t even wince. No matter how much his chin might hurt, it couldn’t compare to how awful he felt inside. He’d failed.
“Oh!” The crowd around him gave a disappointed sigh – as if Sam had let them all down as well. He turned his head. Some of them were drifting away already. Others were looking at him and shaking their heads.
“I told you he wouldn’t be able to do five press-ups,” Brandon sneered. “I’m surprised he could manage four.”
“Shut up, Brandon,” snapped Billy. “Sam did his best.”
“His best isn’t up to much,” Brandon replied. “His best is less than my worst!”
“Leave him alone,” said Billy. “He’s only just got over being ill …”
“When is he going to stop using that as an excuse for being so useless?” Brandon said, unimpressed.
Sam wished his friend would shut up. He knew that Billy was only standing up for him, but it wasn’t making him feel any better. In fact, it was just the opposite – Billy was making him feel worse. Sam had his breath back now and scrambled to his feet. Brandon and his friends stood in a line, looking at Sam like he was something disgusting they’d just stepped in. He knew what they were thinking: he was a weed, a weakling, a waste of space. And in that moment, Sam felt that they were right.
“Are you boys planning to sleep here tonight?” the caretaker called from the school entrance. “Or will you be going home some time before I retire?”
Brandon and his friends left without looking back. And just like that, Sam was dismissed. Sam brushed the gravel off his hands, wishing they were the only part of his body that hurt.
“Never mind them,” Billy said with a smile. “You did great.”
“No, I didn’t.” Sam shook his head. “I couldn’t even do five press-ups. Five rotten press-ups. My mum could do more than that!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Billy told Sam. “It’s not important—”
“It is to me,” Sam interrupted.
“You’re making mountains out of molehills. It was just a silly game—”
“A silly game that I couldn’t even finish,” sighed Sam. “You know what? I don’t blame Brandon for not liking me much. The only game I’m good for is tiddlywinks – that’s what everyone thinks. I can’t do anything. I don’t go anywhere – I’m not even going on the school trip to Loch Lomond.”
“So you didn’t get your mum and dad to change their minds?” Billy asked.
“I didn’t even try. What’s the point?” Sam sighed. “I know what they will say.”
“They might surprise you,” said Billy.
“Yeah, and we might get blue snow tomorrow,” Sam sniffed. And he knew which one was more likely. When they’d first been told about the school trip, Sam’s mum and dad had both left a loud “No” ringing in his ears. Sam pursed his lips. He was fed up of spending his life watching others enjoy themselves while he sat on the sidelines. He wasn’t going to do it any more. He wasn’t.
“I’m going to ask Mum and Dad again tonight,” Sam told Billy. “And this time I’m not going to take no for an answer.”
“Good luck!” said Billy, his tone dry.
“Thanks,” Sam replied. “I’m going to need it.”
*
“You never let me do anything,” Sam said to his parents that evening. “You won’t let me try out for my school’s athletics team. You won’t let me play football or go swimming. I wouldn’t even know how to swim if Uncle John hadn’t taught me. And now you won’t let me go on the school trip.”
Dad lowered his newspaper, and Sam saw the wrinkles on his dad’s forehead deepen into a frown. “Sam, don’t talk to us like that. We’re doing it for your own good.”
“Don’t you understand?” Sam pleaded. He could feel this argument was about to end the same way they always did. “You and Mum wrap me up in so much cotton wool, I’m suffocating.”
“That’s not true …” Mum protested.
“Yes, it is,” said Sam. He was almost shouting now. “I might as well stay in bed all day, every day and not do anything – ever again. What’s the point of me even going to school if you’re just going to treat me like a baby all the time? Why don’t you just keep me chained and locked up in the attic? That way you’d know where I was and what I was doing every second of your lives.”
“That’s enough,” Dad said. His newspaper lay forgotten on his lap.
“Sam, you’re not being fair,” Mum sighed. “We’re only thinking of you and your health. We’re not doing it on purpose, just to spoil your fun.”
Sam didn’t answer. What was he meant to say to that?
You might not be doing it on purpose, Mum, but you are ruining my life …
“It’s just that we have to do all we can to keep you well and out of hospital,” Mum continued. “You don’t want to go in again, do you? That’s why we don’t think the school trip to Scotland is a good idea. What if you ended up in hospital so far away from us?”
“I won’t go into hospital, Mum. I promise,” Sam pleaded. He didn’t dare blink. His mum’s face was now all blurred and swimming as unwanted tears filled his eyes. But there was no point crying – it wouldn’t get him anywhere. Sam could just hear his mum now.
“Don’t run, Sam, you’ll end up in hospital … Don’t swim, Sam, you’ll end up in hospital … Don’t sulk, Sam, you’ll end up in hospital … Don’t cry, Sam, you’ll end up in hospital …”
“I never get to do anything,” Sam sniffed as he turned around to leave the sitting room. “I might as well be dead.”
Sam heard his mum gasp behind him, but he kept walking. He could have turned back and said he didn’t mean it, but he would be lying.
Chapter 2
A Blue Tartan Sky!
Sam lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling and wishing that his parents would change their minds. All he could think about was the trip to Loch Lomond. He’d never been to Scotland before. He’d hardly been anywhere – not outside England, just a few times outside London, and never abroad.
A few years ago, Sam had asked his mum why they never went abroad for their holidays.
“What would happen if you got sick?” Mum replied.
That was her answer for everything. Anyone would think he was ill every minute of every day. OK, so he had to go into hospital sometimes. He couldn’t help that. But when he wasn’t in hospital, why couldn’t he do all the things his classmates did?
Sam knew that when he wasn’t in hospital, his mum thought it was only a matter of days (or maybe even hours) before he went in. That was all he was to his mum and dad – a boy who was ill in hospital or on his way to getting ill and would end up there.
“It’s not fair,” Sam mumbled as he stared at the ceiling.
Every break time, Sam did all the things his classmates did. He ran and played football just like them. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. Sam was always the goalie – but he was good at it! Not that he’d ever tell his mum that – if he did, she’d be up at the school to complain.
“It’s not fair,” Sam whispered again.
And he fell asleep.
His dreams were full of the school trip to Loch Lomond. In his dreams he roller-bladed and abseiled and swam. He did all the things he’d always wanted to do, with no trouble at all. He dreamed of the hotel room he’d stay in for the five-night trip. It was a beautiful room with a grey tartan carpet and a yellow tartan duvet. When he’d looked out of the windows, the sky was blue tartan and the trees were green tartan. It was a wonderful dream!
But that was all it was – a dream.
Sam still had Scotland on his mind when he woke up the next morning. He wanted to stop thinking about it. Thinking about it just made him feel worse. He wasn’t going to Scotland. He wasn’t going anywhere. Today was the last day the money for the trip could be handed in.
Sam had his shower, then got dressed for school. He glanced in the mirror as he tucked his shirt into his trousers. In the mirror, he looked so normal.
“I am normal,” Sam said as he frowned at his reflection.
His short hair was cut into a pattern at the sides and back of his head. He had dark-brown eyes, as dark as his skin. An average, normal boy. So why couldn’t his parents treat him like that? When they looked at him, it was like all they could see was his illness. Sam walked slowly downstairs.
“Morning, Sam,” Dad said with a smile.
“Hi, Dad,” Sam said, and sat down to eat his breakfast.
It was cornflakes with hot milk, plus toast with thick orange marmalade, but Sam wasn’t hungry. Dad got up to pour himself another black coffee. Sam looked down at his bowl of cornflakes. There had to be a way of going on the school trip – there just had to be. But even if Sam had the money to pay for the school trip himself – which he hadn’t – Mum and Dad still had to sign the permission slip. How could he get round that? And even if he did manage it, there was no way he could be away for five days without Mum and Dad knowing.
“Sam, about this trip to Scotland …” Mum began.
Sam didn’t bother to look up. “I know what you’re going to say,” Sam said. “You’re sorry, but I can’t go. There’s no need to repeat yourself.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Mum said.
Sam looked up. He stared at his mum and dad. They were smiling at him. Sam hardly dared to breathe. Had he misheard? He must have done.
“Your dad and I have been talking it over …” Mum continued.
“I can go?” Sam could only just get the words out.
Mum nodded and said, “You can go.”
“You mean it? I can go?” Sam asked again. He sprang out of his chair and knocked it over.
Mum and Dad looked at each other and grinned.
“Yes, you can go,” Dad said. “But only if you’re really careful and you—”
“I’ll be the most careful I’ve ever been in my life!” Sam told them as he beamed. “Yes! I can go. I can go!”
Sam gobbled down his breakfast and pretty much ran all the way to school. He burst into his classroom and saw his teacher Mrs Jenkins talking to another pupil. Sam hovered by her table, wanting to tell her his good news.
“The toilets are at the end of the corridor, Sam,” Mrs Jenkins said, and raised her eyebrows at him.
“Huh?” Sam said.
“Isn’t that why you’re hopping from foot to foot?” Mrs Jenkins said.
Sam grinned at her. “No, miss,” he said. “It’s about the trip to Scotland. My mum and dad gave me the money, and they’ve signed the form and everything. I can go!”
Chapter 3
Sam’s Such
a Wimp!
After assembly, the only thing anyone could talk about was the school trip. Today was Monday. So in just four more days, they’d be off! The coach was going to leave just after Friday’s assembly and would arrive in Loch Lomond on Friday night. Just in time for a late dinner. They would be returning home on Wednesday morning, which meant they’d have the whole of Saturday, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday in Scotland. Five whole wonderful, glorious, marvellous, fantastic, brilliant days away from home!
“Can I have some quiet, please?” Mrs Jenkins shouted from the front of the classroom. “I can’t hear myself think.”
The noise in the class died to a low rumble. Mrs Jenkins took off her glasses and polished them on the front of her blouse.
“Right, then,” Mrs Jenkins said. “I’ve got the groups for Saturday’s trek in Queen Elizabeth Forest. And before anyone asks – no, you cannot change your groups. Molly, Charlotte, Nevin, Fadia – you’re in the Red group.”
Billy elbowed Sam in the ribs.
“I hope we’re in the same group,” Billy whispered.
“So do I,” Sam replied, and crossed his fingers.
“Joe, David, Mahendra, Scott – you’re in the Blue group,” Mrs Jenkins continued. “Brandon, Tayo, Jack, Sam, you’re in Green—”
“Oh, miss, do we have to have Sam?” said Brandon.
“Yeah, Mrs Jenkins!” Jack added. “We don’t want him.”
The whole class went as silent as a graveyard. Sam’s face began to burn. Everyone was watching him now – he could feel their eyes jabbing and stabbing into him.
“I already said you cannot change your groups,” Mrs Jenkins snapped.
“But, miss, Sam’s such a wimp …” Brandon protested.
“And he’s always ill …” said Tayo.
“I don’t want to hear another word out of any of you,” Mrs Jenkins said. “Sam is in your group and that’s final.”
“But, miss …”
&n
bsp; Mrs Jenkins raised her hand and added, “One more word and Sam will be the only person from the Green group going on this trip. Do I make myself clear? It’ll be three fewer people for me to worry about.”
Sam looked down – if he could have slunk under his desk without his teacher seeing, he would have done it. He looked up and regretted it. Tayo and Brandon were glaring at him.
It’s not my fault, Sam thought. I didn’t ask to be in their group. Sam tried to stare back at them, but it was like trying to outstare two hungry lions.
“Mrs Jenkins, can Sam be in my group?” Billy called out.
“No, he cannot,” Mrs Jenkins said. “He’s in the Green group, and that’s the end of it.” Mrs Jenkins’ eyes blazed as she looked around the class. She continued reading out the groups.
“Thanks for trying,” Sam said to Billy.
“Don’t worry about Brandon and all that lot,” Billy told Sam. “They’re not worth it. Bunch of bullies. They think they’re so tough.”
“That’s cos they are,” Sam sighed to himself.
Not for the first time, Sam wished he didn’t have sickle-cell. He wished he didn’t get tired and out of breath so easily, and have the agony that came whenever he had a sickle-cell crisis.
“Right, everyone, get into your groups,” Mrs Jenkins ordered.
Chair legs scraped across the wooden classroom floor with excited laughter and chatter.
“With less noise, please!” Mrs Jenkins yelled. “Sam, shift! Or are you waiting for me to carry you? Your group is over by the window.”
Reluctantly, Sam went over to them. Brandon and Tayo were still glaring at him. Jack was looking anywhere but at him. Jack was all right by himself, but with the other two he was just as bad as they were.
“Don’t worry,” Sam hissed. “I don’t want to be in this rotten group any more than you want me in it.”
“Would you please all shush?” Mrs Jenkins shouted again over the noise swamping her. “I want you all to listen very carefully to these instructions. They’re very important.”
The noise died down.
“Thank you all so much,” Mrs Jenkins said with sarcasm. “Now then, on Saturday afternoon we’ll all be trekking through Queen Elizabeth Forest. Every group will be with one adult. Each group will start from a different point in the forest, and you’ll have to make your way to the central meeting place. You will be given maps and compasses to use. You won’t be allowed to take phones – not even the adults – so don’t think you’ll be able to use GPS. Your route will be the path marked up on your map. None of you are to leave your group’s path, whatever happens. Is that clear?”