Point Blank

by Anthony Horowitz

  There was a movement at the door, and suddenly Mrs. Stellenbosch appeared. ‚Good afternoon, boys,' she said.

  ‚Good afternoon, Mrs. Stellenbosch.' Five people answered, but Alex heard only one voice.

  He and James had remained silent.

  ‚Lessons this afternoon will begin at three o’clock. The subjects will be Latin and French.'

  The lessons were taught by Dr. Grief or Mrs. Stellenbosch. There were no other teachers at the school.

  Alex hadn’t yet been taught anything. James dipped in and out of class, depending on his mood.

  ‚There will be a discussion this evening in the library,' Mrs. Stellenbosch went on. ‚The subject is violence in television and film. Tom, you will open the debate. Afterward, there will be hot chocolate, and Dr. Grief will give a lecture on the works of Mozart. Everyone is welcome to attend.'

  James jabbed a finger into his open mouth and stuck out his tongue. Alex smiled. The other boys were listening quietly.

  ‚Dr. Grief would also like to congratulate Cassian James on winning the poetry competition.

  His poem is pinned to the bulletin board in the main hall. That is all.'

  She turned and left the room. James rolled his eyes. ‚Let’s go out and get some fresh air,' he said. ‚I’m feeling sick.'

  The two of them went upstairs and put on their coats. James had the room next door to Alex and had done his best to make it more homey. There were posters of old sci-fi movies on the wall and a mobile with the solar system dangling above the bed. A lava lamp bubbled and swirled on the bedside table, casting an orange glow. There were clothes everywhere. James obviously didn’t believe in hanging them up. Somehow he managed to find a scarf and a single glove. He shoved one hand into a pocket. ‚Let’s go,' he said.

  They went back down and along the corridor, passing the games room. Nicolas and Cassian were playing table tennis, and Alex stopped at the door to watch them. The ball was bouncing back and forth, and Alex found himself mesmerized. He stood there for about sixty seconds, watching. Kerplink, kerplunk, kerplink, kerplunk-neither of the boys was scoring. There it was again. Different but the same. Obviously, there were two boys there. But the way they played, the style of their game, was identical. If it had been one boy knocking a ball against a mirror, the result would have looked much the same. Alex shivered. James was standing at his shoulder.

  The two of them moved away.

  Hugo was sitting in the library. The boy who had been sent to Point Blanc for shoplifting was reading a Dutch edition of National Geographic magazine. They reached the hall, and there was Cassian’s poem, prominently pinned to the bulletin board. He had been sent to Point Blanc for smuggling drugs. Now he was writing about daffodils.

  Alex pushed open the main door and felt the cold wind hit his face. He was grateful for it.

  He needed to be reminded that there was a real world outside this bizarre goldfish bowl.

  It had begun to snow again. The two boys walked slowly around the building. A couple of guards walked toward them, speaking softly in German. Alex had counted thirty guards at Point Blanc, all of them young German men, dressed in uniform black roll-neck sweaters and black vests. The guards never spoke to the boys. They had the pale, unhealthy faces and close-cropped hair he would have expected. Dr. Grief had said they were there for his protection, but Alex still wondered. Were they here to keep intruders out, or the boys in?

  ‚This way,' James said.

  James walked ahead, his feet sinking into the thick snow. Alex followed, looking back at the windows on the third and fourth floors. It was maddening. A whole half of the castleperhaps more-was closed off to him, and he still couldn’t think of a way of getting up to it. He couldn’t climb. The brickwork was too smooth and there was no convenient ivy to provide handholds.

  The drainpipes looked too fragile to take his weight.

  Something moved. Alex stopped in his tracks.

  ‚What is it?' James asked.

  ‚There!' Alex pointed at the third floor. He thought he’d seen a figure, watching them from behind the window directly above his room. It was there for only a moment. The face seemed to be masked. A white mask with a narrow slit for the eyes. But even as he pointed, the figure stepped back, out of sight.

  ‚I don’t see anything,' James said.

  ‚It’s gone.'

  They walked on, heading for the abandoned ski jump. According to James, the jump had been built just before Grief had bought the academy. There had been plans to turn the building into a winter sports training center. The jump had never been used. They reached the wooden barriers that lay across the entrance and stopped.

  ‚Let me ask you something,' James said. His breath was misting in the cold air. ‚What do you think of this place?'

  ‚Why do we have to talk out here?' Alex asked. Despite his coat, he was beginning to shiver.

  ‚Because when I’m inside the building, I get the feeling that someone is listening to every word I say.'

  Alex nodded. ‚I know what you mean.' He considered the question James had put to him.

  ‚I think you were right the first day we met,' he said. ‚This place is creepy.'

  ‚So how would you feel about getting out of here?'

  ‚You know how to fly the helicopter?'

  ‚No. But I’m going.' James paused and looked around. The two guards had gone into the school. There was nobody else in sight. ‚I can trust you, Alex, because you’ve just gotten here.

  He hasn’t gotten to you yet.' Dr. Grief. James didn’t need to say the name. ‚But believe me,' he went on, ‚it won’t be long. If you stay here, you’re going to end up like the others. Model students. That’s exactly the word for them. It’s like they’re all made out of plastic. Well, I’ve had enough. I’m not going to let him do that to me.'

  ‚Are you going to run away?' Alex asked.

  ‚Who needs to run?' James looked down the slope. ‚I’m going to ski.'

  Alex looked at the slope. It plunged steeply down, stretching on forever. ‚Is that possible?'

  he asked. ‚I thought—'

  ‚I know Grief says it’s too dangerous. But he would, wouldn’t he? It’s true that it’s expert black runs all the way down, and there’s bound to be tons of moguls…'

  ‚Won’t the snow have melted?'

  ‚Only farther down.' James pointed. ‚I’ve been right down to the bottom,' he said. ‚I did it the first week I was here. All the slopes run into a single valley. It’s called La Vallee de Fer. You can’t actually make it as far as the town because there’s a train track that cuts across. But if I can get to the track, I reckon I can walk the rest of the way.'

  ‚And then?'

  ‚A train back to Dusseldorf. If my dad tries to send me back here, I’ll go to my mom in England. If she doesn’t want me, I’ll disappear. I’ve got friends in Paris and Berlin. I don’t care.

  All I know is, I’ve got to split, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll come too.'

  Alex considered. He was almost tempted to join the other boy, if only to help him on his way. But he had a job to do. ‚I don’t have any skis,' he said.

  ‚Nor do I.' James spat into the snow. ‚Grief took all the skis when the season ended. He’s got them locked up somewhere.'

  ‚On the third floor?'

  ‚Maybe. But I’ll find them. And then I’m out of here.' He reached out to Alex with his ungloved hand. ‚Come with me.'

  Alex shook his head. ‚I’m sorry, James. You go, and good luck to you. But I’ll stick it out a bit longer. I don’t want to break my neck.'

  ‚Okay. That’s your choice. I’ll send you a postcard.'

  The two of them walked back toward the school. Alex gestured at the window where he had seen the masked face. ‚Have you ever wondered what goes on up there?' be asked.

  ‚No.' James shrugged. ‚I suppose that’s where the guards live.'

  ‚Two whole floors?'

  ‚There’s a basement as well. A
nd Dr. Grief’s rooms. Do you think he sleeps with Miss Stomach-bag?' James made a face. ‚That’s a pretty gross thought, the two of them together.

  Darth Vader and King Kong. Well, I’m going to find my skis and get out of here, Alex. And if you’ve got any sense, you’ll come too.'

  Alex and James were skiing together down the slope, the blades cutting smoothly through the surface snow. It was a perfect night—everything frozen and still. They had left the academy behind them. But then Alex saw the figure ahead of them. Dr. Grief was there. He was standing motionless, wearing his dark suit, his eyes hidden by his round wire glasses. Alex veered away from him. He had lost control. He was moving faster and faster down the slope, his poles flailing at the air, his skis refusing to turn. He could see the ski jump ahead of him. Someone had removed the barriers. He felt his skis leave the snow and shoot forward onto solid ice. And then it was a screaming drop down, tearing ever farther into the night, knowing there was no way back. Dr. Grief laughed, and at the same moment there was a click and Alex was shot into space, spinning a mile above the ground and then falling, falling, falling …

  He woke up.

  He was lying in bed, the moonlight spilling onto his covers. He looked at his watch. A quarter past two. He played back the dream he had just had. Trying to escape with James. Dr.

  Grief waiting for them. He had to admit, the academy was beginning to get to him. He didn’t usually have bad dreams. But the school and the people in it were slipping under his skin, working their way into his mind.

  He thought about what he had heard. Dr. Grief laughing and something else … a clicking sound. That was strange. What had gone click? Had it actually been part of the dream?

  Suddenly, Alex was completely awake. He got out of bed, went to the door, and turned the handle. He was right. He hadn’t imagined the sound. While he was asleep, the door had been locked from the outside.

  Something had to be happening—and Alex was determined to see what it was. He got dressed as quickly as possible, then knelt down and examined the lock. He could make out two bolts, at least a half inch in diameter, one at the top and one at the bottom. They must have been activated automatically. One thing was sure: he wasn’t going to get out through the door.

  That left the window. All the bedroom windows were fastened with a steel rod that allowed them to open ten inches but no more. Alex picked up his CD player, put in the Beethoven CD, and turned it on. The CD spun around—moving at a fantastic speed—then slowly edged forward, still spinning, until it protruded out of the casing. Alex pressed the edge of the CD

  against the steel rod. It took just a few seconds. The CD cut through the steel like scissors through paper. The rod fell away, allowing the window to swing fully open.

  It was still snowing. Alex turned the CD player off and threw it back on his bed. Then he put on some sweats and his coat and climbed out the window. He was two floors up. Normally a fall from that height would have broken an ankle or a leg. But it had been snowing for the better part of ten hours, and a white bank had built up against the wall right beneath him. Alex lowered himself as far as he could, then let go. He fell through the air and hit the snow, disappearing as far as his waist. He felt his feet strike the hard undersoil, but the bank had protected him. He was cold and damp before he had even started. But he was unhurt.

  He climbed out of the snow and began to move around the side of the building, making for the front. He would just have to hope that the main entrance wasn’t locked too. But somehow he was sure it wouldn’t be. His door had been locked automatically. Presumably a switch had been thrown and all the others had been locked too. Most of the boys would be asleep. Even the ones who were awake wouldn’t be going anywhere, leaving Dr. Grief free to do whatever he wanted, coming and going as he pleased.

  Alex had just made it to the side of the building when he heard the guards approach, boots crunching. There was nowhere to hide, so he threw himself facedown onto the snow, hugging the shadows. There were two guards. He could hear them talking softly in German, but he didn’t dare look up. If he made any movement, they would see him. If they came too close, they would probably see him anyway. He held his breath, his heart pounding.

  The guards walked past and rounded the corner. Their path would take them under his room. Would they see the open window? Alex had left the light off. With luck, there would be no reason for them to look up. But he was still aware that he might not have much time. He had to move now.

  He lifted himself up and ran forward. His clothes were covered in snow, and more flakes were falling, drifting into his eyes. It was the coldest part of the night, and Alex was shivering by the time he reached the main door. What would he do if it was locked after all? He certainly wouldn’t be able to stay out in the open until morning.

  But the door was unlocked. Alex pushed it open and slipped into the warmth and darkness of the main hall. The dragon fireplace was in front of him. There had been a fire earlier in the evening, and the burned-out logs were still smoldering in the hearth. Alex held his hands against the glow, trying to draw a little warmth into himself. Everything was silent. The empty corridors stretched into the distance, illuminated by a few low-watt bulbs that had been left on at intervals. Only now did it occur to Alex that he could have been mistaken from the start.

  Perhaps the doors were locked every night as part of the security. Perhaps he had jumped too quickly to the wrong conclusion and there was nothing going on at all.

  ‚No!'

  It was a boy’s voice—a long, quavering shout that echoed through the school. A moment later, Alex heard feet stamping along a wooden corridor somewhere above. He looked for somewhere to hide and found it inside the fireplace, right next to the logs. The actual fire was contained in a metal basket, and there was a wide space on each side between the basket and the brickwork. Alex crouched low, feeling the heat on the side of his face and legs. He looked out, past the two dragons, waiting to see what would happen.

  Three people were coming down the stairs. Mrs. Stellenbosch was the first. She was followed by two of the guards, dragging something between them. It was a boy! He was facedown, dressed only in his pajamas, his bare feet sliding down the stone steps.

  Mrs. Stellenbosch opened the library door and went in. The two guards followed. The door crashed shut. The silence returned.

  It had all happened very quickly. Alex had been unable to see the boy’s face. But he was sure he knew who it was. He had known just from the sound of his voice.

  James Sprintz.

  Alex eased himself out of the fireplace and crossed the hall, making for the library door.

  There was no sound coming from the other side. He knelt down and looked through the keyhole. No lights were on inside the room. He could see nothing. What should he do? If he went back upstairs, he could make it back to his room without being seen. He could wait until the doors were unlocked and then slip into bed. Nobody would know he had been out.

  But the only person in the school who had shown him any kindness was on the other side of the library door. He had been dragged down here. Perhaps he was being brainwashed …

  beaten, even. Alex couldn’t just turn around and leave him.

  Alex had made his decision. He threw open the door and walked in.

  The library was empty.

  He stood in the doorway, blinking. The library had only one door. All the windows were closed. There were no lights on and no sign that anyone had been there. The suit of armor stood in its alcove at the end, watching him as he moved forward. Could he have been mistaken?

  Could Mrs. Stellenbosch and the guards have gone into a different room?

  Alex went over to the alcove and looked behind the armor, wondering if there might be a second exit concealed there. There was nothing. He tapped a knuckle against the wall.

  Curiously, it seemed to be made of metal, but unlike the wall across the stairs, there was no handle, nothing to suggest a way through.

  There was n
othing more he could do here. Alex decided to go back to his room before he was discovered.

  But he had just made it to the second floor when he heard voices once again … more guards, walking slowly down the corridor. Alex saw an empty door and slipped inside, once again ducking out of sight. He was in the laundry room. There was a washing machine, a dryer, and two ironing boards. At least it was warm in here. He felt himself surrounded by the smell of soap.

  The guards walked past, and soon the sound of their footsteps disappeared. There was a second metallic click that seemed to stretch the full length of the corridor, and Alex realized that all the doors had been unlocked at the same time. He could go back to bed. He crept out and hurried forward. His footsteps took him past James Sprintz’s room, next to his own. He noticed that James’s door was open. And then a voice called out from inside.

  ‚Alex?' It was James.

  No. That wasn’t possible. But there was someone in his room.

  Alex looked inside. The light went on.

  It was James. He was sitting up in bed, bleary-eyed, as if he had just woken up. Alex stared at him. He was wearing the same pajamas as the boy he had just seen dragged into the library

  … but that couldn’t have been him. It must have been someone else.

  ‚What are you doing?' James asked.

  ‚I thought I heard something,' Alex said.

  ‚But you’re dressed. And you’re soaking wet!' James looked at his watch. ‚It’s almost three.'

  Alex was surprised that so much time had passed. It had been only a quarter past two when he had woken up. ‚Are you all right?' he asked.

  ‚Yeah…'

  ‚You haven’t …?'

  ‚What?'

  ‚Nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow.'

  Alex crept back to his own room. He closed the door then stripped off his wet clothes, dried himself with a towel, and got back into bed. If it hadn’t been James he had seen being taken into the library, who was it? And yet it had been James; he was sure of it. He had heard the shout, seen the limp form on the stairs. So why was James lying now?