School's Out

by Scott Andrews

  I ushered the last man through the doors and then followed him inside. Norton was there amongst the boys, manhandling an enormous barricade. Constructed from bookcases and table tops, it sat on two wheeled trolleys. They pushed this up against the flimsy main doors. A group of boys at each side took the strain, the trolleys were whipped away, and then the edifice was lowered to the floor. It was buttressed with thick wooden beams at 45 degrees, and once it was down it covered the main doors entirely. Almost the instant it hit the ground a huge body of men slammed into the doors and began pushing. The barricade didn't move an inch.

  "Positions!" yelled Norton. Two groups of boys ran left and right out of the entrance hall and into the rooms that faced the lawn on the ground floor. These each boasted huge windows through which the Blood Hunters could pour. But each had thick wooden shutters inside, with metal crossbars to secure them. Through the doors I could see that these were all closed, and had been buttressed and reinforced with anything the boys could lay their hands on. Norton had done his job well. Another group ran upstairs to take up sniping positions at the windows on the first floor. A few moments later I heard the first shots from above as they rained fire down on the attackers. The final group ran backwards to take up defensive positions at the rear of the house.

  The group of men and boys who'd survived the battle at the gate milled around, tending their wounds and catching their breath. Mrs Atkins moved amongst them, selecting those who needed the most urgent care.

  Norton came running up to me and pressed a Browning into my hand.

  "What happened?" he asked

  "The wild card got creative," I replied. "Are all the defences in place as discussed?"

  "Yeah, we're ready for them."

  I turned and shouted at the people in the hall with us. "All those of you too wounded to fight make your way to the top floor. We've collected all the medicines and stuff in a dorm up there. Go patch yourselves up."

  Mrs Atkins led about ten wounded men and boys up the stairs.

  Green was standing right in front of me. He had a nasty gash across his forehead and his hair was matted with blood. He was gripping his machine gun tightly, but his lower lip was trembling. He looked like he was about to curl up in a ball and start weeping.

  "Green, take these guys to the armoury and issue them with new weapons and ammunition."

  He nodded wordlessly, and ran back into Castle, towards the cellar. The others followed.

  Suddenly the banging on the door stopped, and the Blood Hunters' guns fell silent. Norton and I exchanged worried looks and ran up the stairs and into one of the rooms overlooking the lawn.

  "What's going on?" I shouted.

  "Dunno sir," replied one of the boys who'd been shooting down at them. "They all just ran around the side of the building."

  At that moment there was a terrible scream in the distance.

  "That came from the back," said Norton, and we ran out of the room and across the landing. We pushed through double doors and ran across the main hall balcony to the rear stairs. Norton was in the lead as we crashed through the door and jumped down the stairs three at a time. We came out next to the cellar entrance, and found ourselves in the middle of a pitched battle. Green and the men he'd been arming were fighting hand-to-hand with a group of about ten Blood Hunters, but I could see more pouring into the courtyard outside.

  How the hell had they gotten in?

  Norton and I opened fire from the stairs. I could see Green, both hands raised, trying to slow the descent of a machete that a big muscled Blood Hunter was forcing down towards his head. The Blood Hunter was grinning as his biceps flexed and the blade inched down. I couldn't get a clear shot through the crowd, so I lowered my head and shoulder charged the fighting men, barrelling through them until I was next to Green. I shoved my pistol into the Blood Hunter's perfectly sculpted six pack and squeezed the trigger twice. The man staggered back and slid down the wall, clutching his guts.

  Green fell backwards too, into a corner. He curled up, buried his head in his hands and began to sob. I couldn't worry about him now. Someone banged into my left side and sent me staggering against a door. Which was open. I tottered for a moment in the doorway but I couldn't regain my balance. I reached out with my left arm to steady myself. But my left arm was in a sling. I fell headfirst down the hard stone steps into the musty cellar.

  While I sprawled on the damp brick I heard someone slam the door against the wall and come running down the stairs behind me. Still on the ground I turned and saw a Blood Hunter woman charging towards me. I shot her twice but her momentum carried her forward and she collapsed on top of me. Her lolling head cracked into mine and the force smashed the back of my skull against the brick floor.

  Bright spots danced in front of my eyes, and felt myself starting to pass out. I closed my eyes, steadied my breathing and tried to focus, but it was hard. God knows how many blows to the head I'd taken in the last twenty minutes. I was pretty sure the only thing keeping me conscious was Matron's home brew. I wasn't looking forward to the come down.

  I managed to stave off unconsciousness, and rolled the wounded woman off me. She was still alive, but she was out for the count. I decided the time for taking prisoners had long passed. I put one in her head to finish her off.

  I had just got to my feet when I heard a tremendous explosion and a sustained volley of gunfire. It sounded like it came from the front of the school.

  They'd blown the doors.

  The sounds of battle overhead grew more intense. We were being overrun. I turned and ran into one of the side chambers. I picked up a box of grenades and a kit bag. I shoved as many of the bombs inside as I could, then I nipped into the next chamber along. I strapped two machine guns across my shoulders, put another pistol in my belt, and shoved as many clips of ammunition as I could carry into my pockets. I was carrying more hardware than Rambo.

  A Rambo with bugger all muscle tone, gangly arms - one of which was useless - a mild case of acne, a broken nose, a head that felt like a punching bag and a system full of unknown drugs. Still, I had lots and lots of guns.

  "Rock n' Roll!" I yelled, cocked my machine gun, and went running up the stairs. Straight into somebody's fist. My nose cracked once more and I went tumbling back down the stairs to the bricks.

  "This," I said wearily as I lay there, "is getting repetitive."

  "Don't worry," said a familiar voice. "It'll all be over soon." Mac was standing at the top of the stairs, shaking the fingers of his good hand. At least hitting me had hurt. He looked down at me and sneered.

  I tried to bring my gun to bear but Mac was too fast for me. He was down the stairs before I could gather myself and he kicked the pistol from my grip. Then he stamped on my good hand. Even above the sound of the battle overhead, and my own shout of anger, I heard yet another bone crack.

  Didn't feel it though. Really, really good drugs.

  There was a stutter of machine gun fire from the top of the stairs. A Blood Hunter stood there, shooting back into the corridor, guarding the cellar door. At all costs I had to stop them taking possession of the armoury. I wanted to reach for a grenade, but even if my free hand had been working and I could pull a pin I'd only succeed in blowing the entire school sky high, taking everyone with it. Not an option.

  Mac stood above me, gun pointed straight at my face.

  "I really want to shoot you in the head, Nine Lives," he snarled. "You have no idea how much I want to shoot you in the fucking head."

  "Be my guest." I screwed my eyes closed, waiting for the impact.

  "But that would be no fun," he said. "I mean, orgasms are great, but they're so much better after a little foreplay, don't you think?"

  "Shoot me or shag me, Mac... make your mind up."

  He ground his foot on my hand. I could feel jagged edges of bone scraping against each other in my little finger.

  The screams and gunfire from above were intense now. I imagined the Blood Hunters pouring through the front door,
slicing and shooting the boys, smearing themselves in fresh blood and bellowing their victory.

  "It's all over, Lee. There are too many of us. I'll be back in charge of the school within the hour. Maybe I'll celebrate with another crucifixion. What do you think?"

  "Not very original," I replied. "You want to supersize it. How about a flaying, perhaps? Or maybe a dismemberment? Surprise me."

  He squatted down on top of me, and leaned forward until my broken nose was almost touching his stubby little burnt wreck of one.

  "I will, Lee. I promise you that. Now get up and dump the hardware."

  He stood up and let me rise, keeping his gun on me as I let the weapons and ammunition drop to the floor.

  "Now we wait for the commotion to die down so I can go claim my prize," he said.

  "What about David?" I asked. "Won't he have something to say about you taking control?"

  "David's my problem. Let me worry about him. You worry about me, Lee. Worry about what I'm going to do to you, Norton and that little shit Rowles, and anyone else who survives the fight. There's gonna be a bleeding tonight."

  There was something different about Mac, and it wasn't just the injuries and the missing hand. He was taking real joy in the destruction happening above. He seemed more feral, less in control. His one good eye sparkled with barely concealed madness, very different from the power hungry thug I'd known before. He used to be unpredictable; now he was just plain scary.

  "Mind if I sit while we wait?"

  Mac opened his mouth to reply, but a burst of gunfire from the doorway silenced him. I saw the Blood Hunter by the door struggling with someone, heard a bone-crunching snap, and a man's lifeless body tumbled down the stairs to land at our feet.

  "Yeah, why not," said Mac, ignoring the corpse. "Pull up a box of grenades. Let's bond."

  I turned into one of the side rooms, looking for something to sit on.

  "On second thoughts," said Mac. "Let's not and say we did."

  Something hit me on the back of the neck, hard, and the world went black.

  As I lost my grip on my senses the last thing I heard was Mac laughing. It was the insane cackle of a triumphant madman.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I spluttered as the water poured down my face. Ice cold, it brought me round instantly. I was lying flat on my back on wooden boards. I wiped my eyes and looked up to see Mac standing above me. I could see cloths and pulleys suspended high above him; I was lying on the stage in the school assembly hall. I could hear lots of other people moving around, the hall sounded full.

  "Wakey, wakey, Nine Lives," he said. "Shake a leg. Rise and shine."

  I put my hand to the floorboards to lift myself and found that my little finger was twice its normal size. It had a sharp point of bone sticking out of it above the knuckle. The drugs were wearing off, so when I put pressure on that hand it hurt. A lot. I gasped and gritted my teeth. Wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how much pain I was in. I suspected the drugs were still dulling a great deal of it; my broken arm still felt okay. As long as I didn't do anything stupid, like throw a punch, I'd be fine for a while. I used my elbow to lever myself up into a sitting position.

  The hall was to my left. Along one side all the surviving boys and girls, and the men who'd been fighting with us, were lined up. They were kneeling with their hands on their heads. I scanned the crowd and breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted Rowles, Norton and Mrs Atkins, all safe and sound. Green was there too. There were about thirty surviving children and ten men. Bob was not among them, but Mrs Atkins' new man, Justin, was. Guards stood over them with guns and machetes, making sure they didn't try anything. The wooden balcony that ringed the hall on three sides was empty. There were roughly sixty Blood Hunters in the room, each and every one of them glistening with the very freshest blood. They were all staring at the stage. At me. Nobody was speaking.

  "Show time," said Mac, with a grin.

  I had two options. Stay silent and risk letting them know how terrified I was, or take the piss and try to appear confident.

  "Go on then," I replied. "Do us a dance. Show us your jazz hands. Oh, sorry, forgot. Jazz hand."

  His grin didn't waver. "Get up."

  As I did so I saw that David was sitting behind us on the stage, on his throne. He looked as immaculate and unruffled as ever, apart from where my knife had ripped the fabric of his suit.

  "Welcome back, Lee," he said. "As you can see we have taken control of your school. It amused me to organise a little assembly. We might sing a few hymns later, would you like that?"

  "Fine by me, as long as we don't have to sing Morning Has Broken. I fucking hate that song."

  I was thinking fast, trying to work out the angles. There were guards in the wings at both sides. Behind David the stage stretched back into darkness. There was a fire exit door back there, but I'd never make it. There were three entrances to the hall itself: two sets of double doors on either side of the room and a fire exit at the back. All were guarded. There was no way out of here. Whatever Mac and David had planned I was stuck with it.

  "I was going to bleed you in public," David said when I had gained my feet. "Make an example of you to others. But Brother Sean persuaded me otherwise. He has big plans for this place. He wants me to allow him to create a religious retreat here for our brethren. New recruits will be sent here for study and contemplation. Our wounded and old can find shelter here. He would run this endeavour for me. He even wishes to create a blood bank. The children you've watched over would be kept under lock and key, bled regularly but kept alive; a resource for the faithful. I and my chosen acolytes would continue our travels, taking the word to the world outside. I like the idea. What do you think?"

  "Sounds lovely," I replied enthusiastically. "You could even have a cricket team, play the locals. Hildenborough are quite good, although you may have just slaughtered their first eleven."

  David chuckled indulgently. "I thought you'd like it. But Brother Sean has some strange ideas." Here we go, I thought. "Even though we have taken your school by force, subdued your army and seized your weapons he feels bad for you."

  "I'm sure his heart bleeds," I said, looking at Mac. His face gave nothing away.

  David continued. "He has this quaint notion that he needs to prove he's better suited to run this place than you are. I can't imagine why."

  "He's always had inadequacy issues," I said. "It all goes back to his childhood. Bed wetter, you see."

  "I see. That explains a lot," said David, winking at Mac.

  "I told you how it works, Lee," said Mac. "You want to be boss you've got to challenge the leader and beat him. Prove you're better. You never learned that lesson. But you will now. You're the leader of this place now, so I challenge you."

  I laughed incredulously. "What, to a fight? You and me? Are you joking? I've got a broken arm and a broken hand. I fall down if I try to run and I can't even make a fist. What kind of victory would that be? You might as well wrestle a puppy, you fucking idiot."

  He stepped forward and hissed furiously in my face: "Better than stabbing you in the back, you traitorous son of a bitch."

  I turned to David and shrugged. "Your boy has issues, Mr David, sir."

  "Can I say something?" All heads turned to the crowd of captives. It was Norton.

  "No! Shut the fuck up!" yelled Mac, incensed at being interrupted, spittle flying through the gash where half his lips used to be.

  "It's just that I remember something you said once about delegating responsibility," continued Norton.

  Mac turned to the crowd. "Bring that little fucker up here."

  A Blood Hunter walked over to Norton and hauled him to his feet by his hair, then marched him up the steps onto the stage. Mac was on him instantly, holding a gun to his face. "Explain," he growled.

  Norton flashed a nervous glance at me and made his pitch.

  "Let me see if I understand this. You want to fight Lee for control of the school. Winner takes all, yeah
?"

  Mac nodded.

  "And what happens to the loser?"

  "The fight's to the death. If he wants the school he's got to kill me with his own bare hands. He's learned that lesson well. Ask Heathcote."

  Norton looked at David. "And you agree to this? If Lee wins then you leave?"

  "I'll leave anyway," said David. "It's just a question of who's in charge when I do. Whoever wins, this will be a holy place for us. But I would allow Lee to complete the ritual and take charge for me. He'd have a large group of helpers, of course." David indicated the crowd of Blood Hunters below us, "to keep him on the path of righteousness."

  "Okay," said Norton, turning his attention to me. "Lee, you're the leader round here, Mac - sorry, Brother Sean - acknowledges that, don't you?"

  Mac nodded, suspicious.

  "Then delegate to me, Lee. Let me fight him for you. For all of us."

  "No fucking way," snarled Mac.

  "Hang on, you're changing your bloody tune," I said. "Only half an hour ago you were telling me that I had to be able to send men to fight and die for me. One of the things real leaders have to do, you said. So why can't I delegate? Norton, you willing to die for me?"

  "Sir, yes sir!" barked Norton. He even gave a cheeky salute to go with the grin.

  "Good man," I said cheerily. I liked this plan. Norton was a black belt. He'd kick Mac's one-armed arse all the way to next Christmas. "So Mac, this lesson you've been wanting to teach me. Looks like I've learned it. Willing to put your money where your mouth is? Gonna take on my loyal deputy? Or are you only willing to fight if you've got to fight me? I mean, yeah, if I only had a broken arm we'd be evenly matched. But you broke the little finger on my other hand. So unless you're going to give me a gun the best I can do is slap you. Not going to be a very satisfying fight, is it? Your victory won't be worth shit. But beat Norton, well, that'd be something. You'd have earned it then. That's what you said, isn't it... it's all about earning it?"