“I am not a bitch,” I snarl at him.
“You are to me,” he says simply. “Somewhere inside you must be nice because so many people like you. But I’ve never seen anything other than a complete bitch.”
“That is so unfair,” I say. “Okay, we tease you sometimes. But you have to admit you’re an easy target.”
“Why does anyone need to be a target? Why do you need to put someone else down to make yourself feel better?”
“Hey, I resent that. I do not—”
“Could you two shut the hell up for one bloody minute?”
We both jump out of our skins and spin in the direction of the voice.
There is a boy about our age standing inside the gate watching us. When the hell did he get there? I look over at Anthony and he looks as shocked as I am. Neither of us saw him approach.
“Who are you?” I ask.
I don’t recognise him. I know pretty much everyone in this school, and I’ve never seen him before. He’s weird-looking enough that I’d remember him. He’s young, but his hair is slicked back like something out of the 1940s. And he’s almost completely grey. His skin is grey. His clothes are grey and seriously old-fashioned. His hair is a dark, ashy colour. Everything about him is grey.
Everything about this whole place is grey.
“Riley Richardson and Anthony Marsden?” the strange boy asks.
“Who are you?” I ask him again.
“Please report to the principal’s office immediately.”
And with that he is gone.
Literally gone.
Not walked away. Just vanished. Into thin air.
But now the gates are open.
“Okay,” I stutter, looking at Anthony. “Did you just see that? Please tell me you just saw that.”
“I saw it,” he says. “You still think I’m a nutjob?”
“Always,” I tell him. “But we can’t be dead. We can’t be. I’m sixteen. I can’t die at sixteen.”
“People can die at any age, Riley,” he says. “If you paid more attention in class you would know that.”
“Do not lecture me,” I growl. “I pay plenty of attention in class. My grades are very good, I’ll have you know. Not that my grades have anything to do with you anyway.”
“I don’t see how,” he says. “All you do is gossip or text on the phone you’re not supposed to have or torment people who are actually listening. Or—”
“My phone!” I interrupt. “My bag! My stuff! Where is everything? I had a bag with me just now. It was in the back of the car.”
“Mine’s gone too,” Anthony says.
“Great. Not only has there been some kind of freakish gas leak but we’ve been mugged as well.”
“I don’t think this is a gas leak,” he says. “And I don’t think we’ve been mugged.”
“No, you think we’re both bloody dead. That’s a much more viable option.”
“Look,” he says, “I’m not ruling anything out. I’m just saying that the last thing either of us remembers is a car accident. And now we’re back at school, but everything looks wrong and a very strange guy just vanished into thin air right in front of us.”
“Who was that guy?” I ask.
“How am I supposed to know that?”
I shrug.
“The sign says a prefect will be here. Maybe he was a prefect.”
“Weird-looking prefect. Not that everything isn’t looking a bit strange at the moment,” I mutter.
“Yeah, well, maybe we should do what he said.”
“We should report to the principal’s office?”
He shrugs. “He told us to. And he knew our names.”
“You know, this is reminding me of that movie where the guy wakes up from a coma and the whole world has been infested with zombies.”
“I could be wrong, but I don’t think there’s been a zombie outbreak,” he says.
“So where is everyone? And everything?”
“Look, let’s just go and see the principal. If anyone can explain what’s going on, it will be him.”
“Yeah? Because I vote that we run away.”
“To where, Riley? Look at this street. It’s the right street but it’s wrong. There should be a roundabout and a railway bridge just up there, but there’s nothing but fog. Where do you think we’re going to get to?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But we should do something.”
“That guy didn’t ask us our names. He already knew them. What does that tell you?”
“This is a really creepy situation and we should get the hell out of here?”
“It tells me that they were expecting us. It tells me that the principal is waiting for us.”
“Yeah, to eat us. Because he’s a zombie.”
Anthony rolls his eyes but his lips twitch up into a smile.
“We don’t even know where the principal’s office is,” I counter.
“This is our school. The principal’s office is in the same place it always is.”
“So why is it called—” I read the sign on the grass and grab Anthony’s arm. “Do you see that?” I ask him.
“Welcome to Afterlife Academy,” he reads. “Please report to the principal’s office immediately.”
“Okay, now that’s just plain weird. That sign used to say that a prefect would come along, and now it says something different. When on earth did they have time to paint the sign without us noticing?”
“I don’t think they did,” he says slowly.
“So what, it’s a magic sign now?”
“For God’s sake, Riley. The sign said that a prefect would come along. The prefect came and told us to go see the principal. Now the sign is telling us to go and see him because so far all we’ve done is stand here and argue.”
“But how did it change?” I whine. “This just proves that this is a nightmare and we should both just stand here until we wake up.”
“Riley…”
“No,” I snap. “Signs don’t just change of their own accord. That sign is solid metal. It’s been there for years. It says ‘Welcome to Bellfield Comprehensive School. You are here.’ And there’s a map. So this is either a nightmare or a really sick joke. Oh my god, that’s it! Wade was really pissed off with me for telling him not to be cruel to you. He’s done something to us. Probably drugged us or something. This is some kind of weird drug trip.”
“Whatever it is, I think we should do what we’ve been told.”
“Oh, you’re always such a goody two-shoes. Always doing what the teachers tell you.”
“Insult me all you like. I’m going to see the principal and get this whole mess straightened out. You can stay here if you want.”
“You know, Wade is probably hiding somewhere laughing at us right now.”
“Whatever,” Anthony says and he begins to walk away.
The thought of standing here by myself fills me with dread, so even though he’s the class geek and clearly a complete loon, I run after him anyway.
CHAPTER 3
We trudge up the drive of the school. It’s cold, misty, and grey, just like everything else around here. I pull my jacket further around myself and try to huddle inside it a bit more.
This whole place is creepy. I know it’s our school, but it doesn’t feel like our school. It’s scaring me. I’ve been here so many times before but it feels so different. It’s completely abandoned. There are no students, no teachers. I don’t even see any lights on in the buildings as we pass them. I shuffle closer to Anthony.
We eventually come to the main hall where the principal’s office is. Anthony pushes the door open and it creaks ominously.
My first thought is how quiet everything is. This is the block where the main hall and swimming pool are. There’s always at least one class doing sports of some kind, or drama club, or indoor badminton, or something else that makes a lot of noise.
The reception area, which is always manned by at least one secretary, is also empty. We sta
re at it for a moment. You don’t go and see the principal without reporting to the secretary, and then the secretary calls through to him.
“Oh well.” Anthony shrugs. “I guess we just go and knock on the door.”
We walk over to the principal’s door, and the first thing I notice is the name plaque.
It reads Mrs E. Carbonell. Headmistress.
“Okay, now that’s weird,” I say before Anthony has a chance to knock.
“Mr Richmond is the headmaster,” he says. “Has been for years.”
“We could still run,” I offer.
But Anthony has already knocked on the door, so it’s too late.
Trust him to be eager to get to school.
“Be with you in a minute!” a woman calls from behind the door.
“Great,” I mutter.
“Shut up, Riley,” Anthony snaps. “Be nice for a change.”
“I am nice. I am—”
The principal’s door opens and a woman steps out. She is categorically not Mr Richmond. Nor is she the deputy head, Mr Goldwyn, who would have taken over if something had happened to Mr Richmond.
There is something about her that looks familiar, though.
“Ah, welcome,” she says to us. “Come in, please. It’s not often we get arrivals in pairs.”
She steps aside and holds the door open for us. Anthony strides in while I straggle behind him.
“So, you two would be Anthony Marsden and Riley Richardson, correct?”
Anthony nods. I take a seat next to him as she sits on the opposite side of the desk.
“I’m Eliza Carbonell, the headmistress here.”
I look around the room as she introduces herself. It’s the same room, but it’s not the same as it is when Mr Richmond is here. There are typically a lot of papers piled up or strewn around the room. There are always approximately five used coffee mugs in varying states of disgustingness scattered across the desk.
This is different. There are huge filing cabinets lining every wall. There is nothing on the floor but carpet. The desk is spotless. No coffee mugs. No random papers. Just a phone, a computer, and an open file in front of her. Probably ours, I think.
I look at her as she flicks through said file. She looks familiar and at the same time like something out of an old black-and-white movie. Her hair is side parted and pulled back into a bun. Her clothes look like they belong on an old woman rather than the thirty-something she must be. And she is as grey as everything else around here. There is no colour anywhere in the office. The burgundy curtains that have always been here are grey. The filing cabinets are grey. The carpet is grey.
“Where’s Mr Richmond?” I ask boldly.
“Mr Richmond doesn’t belong here, Riley.”
“So… he was fired?”
“Perhaps we should talk about some other things first.” She fixes me with a grey-eyed stare. “Just let me read through your details. I’m sorry I wasn’t better prepared. We didn’t know you were coming.”
And that’s when I know why she looks familiar. I know why she looks like something out of a black-and-white photograph. I know where I’ve seen her before.
I’ve walked past her every single day on the way to assembly in the main hall.
On a remembrance plaque.
There are three of them just inside the doors of the main hall. Two are former students who died. One is a former headmistress who died saving a boy from a fire.
Eliza Carbonell. Died in 1949.
That thought alone makes me jump out of my chair.
“Riley,” she says slowly.
But I’m backing away towards the door.
“This can’t be happening,” I stammer. “I recognise you. There’s a plaque in the hall for you. You’re…” I can’t even say it. It’s too weird.
“Oh my god, you’re right,” Anthony says. “You’re that headmistress who saved a kid when the building burnt down. Wow, this is so cool. Does this mean we’ve gone back in time? Have we entered a wormhole or something?”
Trust him to think going back in time would be cool.
“You haven’t gone back in time,” Eliza Carbonell says. “Riley, please sit down and we’ll talk about this like adults.”
I don’t know what to do. I could run away. But I don’t know where to or what might be waiting outside to stop me. And Anthony is right about the main road being different. The roundabout and railway bridge have disappeared. All the cars and houses have gone. Maybe we have gone back in time. Maybe we’ve somehow ended up in 1949, before this woman died. Before everything was developed and modern. There wouldn’t have been cars and houses in those days.
I perch on the edge of my seat and wait for her to say something.
“Okay,” she says eventually. “This is always the hard part. What’s the last thing you two remember?”
“We were in a car accident,” Anthony says. “Her and her idiot boyfriend were joyriding and they hit me.”
“I remember impact,” I say. “A huge bang. And blood. There was a lot of blood. His blood though, not mine.”
“Now then, I don’t want you to freak out and get upset about this, but that car accident was more serious than you might think. There were two fatalities. I’m afraid they were you two.”
“No,” I say. “No. I don’t know how Wade has pulled this off, but this is all some kind of really sick joke and I am not giving him the satisfaction of falling for it.”
“So, where are we?” Anthony asks, ignoring me.
“Didn’t you hear me?” I yell. “This is a joke. You’re just making yourself look stupid by buying into it. Where’s the hidden camera?” I’m on my feet again, looking around the room frantically. “You’re dumped, Wade. Wherever you are, I know you’re watching this, and you’re totally dumped.”
“Riley, please sit down.” Eliza Carbonell interrupts my tirade. “This is not a joke. A lot of people have difficulty adjusting at first, and I completely understand that, but you do need to sit down and listen to me.”
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter, but I reluctantly sit back down anyway.
“Where are we?” Anthony asks again.
“This place is called Afterlife Academy,” she says. “It’s a place for teenagers who pass away before they can finish their education.”
“Are you kidding me?” I ask incredulously. “We’re in a school for the dead? How come it looks exactly like our school?”
“Afterlife Academy was started up by government officials in 1950,” Eliza continues. “They asked me to oversee it. As this was the school I worked in when I was alive, they used it as a blueprint when creating this one. You two are a rare kind indeed. Most teenagers who arrive here do not come from this school. You’re just lucky because you happen to have been attending our living counterpart in your lives, so you’re already familiar with the layout here.”
“So you are dead?” Anthony asks like it is nothing strange.
“Indeed I am,” she says with a sad look in her grey eyes. “In 1949 a fire broke out in this building. Most people got out unharmed, but just as I was leaving I realised there was a young first-year boy stuck on the second floor. As headmistress, it was my responsibility and I rushed back in to save him. Which, I’m glad to say, I did. But the building collapsed before I could get out myself, and there you have it. Do they really have a plaque in my memory?”
Anthony nods. “You were deemed a hero.”
“That’s very flattering,” she says, swiping at her eyes like she’s about to start crying.
“Am I the only one aware of how surreal this conversation is?” I ask.
“Well, we must get back on topic,” Eliza says as she visibly composes herself. “As I said, I know it’s hard to adjust, but you both died in that accident. I don’t believe in pussyfooting around it. Directness is the best way to deal with these things, and believe me I’ve had a lot of experience in the years I’ve been here. We offer counselling sessions to help you come to terms with y
our grief.”
“So there are other people here?” I ask.
“Oh yes,” she says. “I believe you met Gerald earlier, he is one of our prefects. There are roughly five hundred pupils here at the moment.”
“Dead people?”
“Yes, Riley, dead people. Just like you and me.”
“You’re trying to tell me that I’m a ghost? I can’t be a ghost. Ghosts don’t even exist.”
“Well, ghost is a very general term,” she says. “And I assure you that they do exist.”
“But I can’t be dead. I can’t be. I’m sixteen. I have a family who loves me, friends who love me, and girls who want to be me. And I certainly can’t be back at school. I’m in Year Eleven. I’m leaving school in a couple of months. I cannot be dead.”
“I know it is hard to accept, but you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t dead, Riley. Don’t worry, you’ll make new friends here.”
“But I don’t want new friends. I want my old friends. I want my family. I want my life back.”
“Don’t think of this as the end of life, Riley. Think of it as a new beginning.”
“I don’t want a new beginning. I want to go home.”
“You shouldn’t have got into a car with that moron then, should you?” Anthony barks.
“Why don’t you shut up, you stupid jerk? Don’t you even care that we’re in some kind of ridiculous nightmare?”
“Of course I care,” he says. “But this makes a lot of sense, so why don’t you shut up and listen?”
“Don’t tell me what to—”
Eliza bangs her hands on the desk and it makes a huge crashing sound. We both stop and turn towards her.
“Please don’t argue, you two. You are actually extremely fortunate to have come here together. Most people are on their own when they come in. It will be nice for you both to have some company.”
“I’d rather have my blood drained by leeches,” Anthony says.
“Ew,” I mutter. “You are such a freak. Who says stuff like that? Besides, it’s not like I want to be here with you either, jerk.”
“Please stop fighting,” she says. “We have a lot to get through before Induction.”
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