The Sacrifice Box

by Martin Stewart

People kept looking over and whispering behind their hands. He sat straight, self-conscious and alert. Hadley ignored them all – just drew intricate patterns on her folder and looked at him every so often.

  Wobie’s poached-egg eyes peered over the front page, then disappeared.

  ‘Having trouble, Hope?’ said Wobie.

  The eyes of the class turned to Sep.

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Then is there another reason you are staring into space, an expression of the utmost vacuity on your unremarkable little face?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘You retrieved your textbook from Miss Wright following your gallant loan, did you not?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘And you have consequently availed yourself of the impact of the Corn Laws’ repeal?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Woe betide you if you lie, Master Hope – the muse of examination is an unforgiving mistress, and she is not like to be sated by the undeserving.’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘No, sir,’ said Stephen, turning in his seat and flicking his wrist at Sep.

  ‘Shut up,’ said Sep and Hadley together.

  The class gasped. Stephen frowned. The newspaper lowered.

  ‘Master Hope, Miss Anderson – it may be that the Face and Hair of Stephen Ashton is a despicable cretin …’

  The class waited. Stephen shifted in his seat.

  Wobie licked his fingers and raised the newspaper.

  ‘But?’ said Sep.

  The dribbly eyes reappeared.

  ‘But what?’ said Wobie.

  There was a knock on the door. Arkle came into the room. He shot Sep and Hadley a grin, then handed Wobie a note.

  Wobie looked at him, eyebrows furrowed to a single caterpillar.

  ‘What are you wearing, Master Hooper?’

  ‘My T-shirt? It says: “Come with me if you want to live”, sir. It’s from Terminator.’

  Wobie gave him a slow blink.

  ‘Or did you mean my foil helmet, sir?’

  ‘I did,’ said Wobie, nodding at Arkle’s pointy, tinfoil hat.

  ‘They’re very in,’ said Arkle. ‘You should get one.’

  ‘Perhaps tomorrow,’ said Wobie, opening the note.

  The cigar fell from his lips.

  Then he rose, placing a heavy, four-fingered hand on Arkle’s shoulder, and stood in front of the class.

  Hadley looked over in alarm. Sep craned his neck.

  He had never seen Wobie’s legs before – they were always hidden by the desk, or piles of unmarked assignments. The class leaned forward, expecting something bizarre – some dangling appendage or a tentacular sprawl, glistening under smears of mustard.

  But there were just the short, stocky legs of an elderly man – the knees of which were visibly shaking.

  ‘The school has just been informed,’ he said, dabbing his lips with his tongue, ‘that Mrs Maguire has suffered a dreadful accident –’

  ‘Holy shit,’ whispered Hadley. ‘Is she dead?’

  ‘“… she was attacked in her home late last night, and remains in a serious but stable condition at Hill Ford General,”’ read Wobie, his voice breaking. ‘“Given that the nature of her assault remains unknown, the school will be closed until further notice. You are instructed to make your way straight home, immediately. Make sure you’re not alone; go with friends – talk to no one you don’t know and trust.”’

  He crushed the paper in his hand.

  ‘Be safe. Pack up your things. Off you go now.’

  He slumped in his chair, fumbled the cigar back between his lips and lit it with trembling hands. The class watched him, silent and unmoving.

  ‘There’s another note, sir,’ said Arkle.

  Wobie looked at his desk.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ he said. He unfolded the piece of card, scanned it quickly, then looked at Sep. ‘Hope, you’re to attend the headmaster. Go on now, the rest of you. And be careful.’

  The class rose and packed up in a stupefied quiet, then shuffled away. Nobody ran, nobody tried to catch their friends – just moved with an eerie stillness.

  ‘What does he want now?’ said Hadley.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Sep, hoisting his bag on to his shoulder.

  Wobie was letting the cigar burn, watching the smoke’s thread unravel into the air.

  ‘Are you all right, sir?’ said Sep.

  Wobie shook his head without looking up.

  ‘She does so much for others,’ he said. ‘It’s terrible.’

  Sep went to pat him on the shoulder, but stopped his hand halfway and made an awkward fist instead. He turned to go.

  ‘You’ve got out of detention anyway,’ said Arkle once they were outside the room.

  ‘Jesus, Darren,’ said Hadley.

  ‘Keep your hair on, Milky, I’m just kidding. It’s grimbiscuits what’s happened to old Magpie, it really is. And, by the way, nice secret diary – as if Mack didn’t have a big enough head already.’

  Hadley kicked his shin, and he grinned.

  ‘I passed Lamb in the corridor just now,’ he said. ‘She told me to tell you to get your butts back to her farm, pronto.’

  ‘Why her farm? Shouldn’t we just head to the woods?’ said Hadley.

  ‘And I need to go home for a new sacrifice,’ said Sep.

  Arkle shrugged.

  ‘I’m just passing on the message. She’s definitely mad keen to get to the box. Like, she was running when I saw her.’

  ‘Was that all she said?’

  ‘Oh, no – she called me an asshole and gave me a dead arm.’

  Hadley nodded.

  ‘What’s with the tinfoil?’ said Sep as they turned down the main corridor. It was already empty, and their feet echoed along its length.

  ‘Clever, right?’ said Arkle. ‘Tench gave me notes to give to all the teachers, so when I was in home ec I nicked some foil. And a thing of cookie dough.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I was hungry.’

  ‘No, why did you steal tinfoil? And why are you wearing it?’

  ‘Cosmic rays, Sepster. Like you said, the asteroid –’

  ‘Comet –’ said Hadley.

  ‘– is poisoning us, right? But if we wear these, we’re sorted!’

  He tilted his head as though he’d reached the end of a catwalk, the corridor’s strip lights bouncing off his head.

  ‘Darren, the comet’s got nothing to do with all this.’

  ‘But you said it did! And you know about everything, like … photosynthesis! And maths!’

  ‘I know, but –’

  ‘And the Soviets too – I’m on to them.’

  Sep shared a look with Hadley.

  ‘What are you going to do, invade Russia?’

  ‘What? No, obviously not, I’m only fifteen. I’m going to nick one of those counters from the science cupboard, so I know if they’re trying to poison us with radiation. Smart, huh?’

  ‘A Geiger counter?’ said Hadley.

  ‘Yes, that,’ said Arkle, snapping his fingers at her. ‘The Pube thinks I don’t know the door code for the cupboard, but I do – it’s the same as his briefcase.’

  ‘Why would you need to know the code for the science cupboard?’ said Sep.

  Arkle looked at him blankly.

  ‘Magnesium,’ he said.

  ‘Why is Mr Bailey called “The Pube”?’ said Hadley.

  ‘Don’t you even know that?’ said Arkle. ‘He’s only got one pube, right? But it’s massive, like, six feet long – he has to roll it up to get it in his pants.’

  ‘That is so not true,’ said Hadley.

  ‘It is!’ said Arkle, indignant. ‘McCall saw him in the swimming baths last summer. Ask him.’

  ‘Ask Mr Bailey if he’s got a six foot pube?’

  ‘No, don’t ask him – ask McCall!’

  They reached the stairwell. A column of silent children spiralled down it, wobbling like penguins. A few people spoke, but they got no answers
, everyone unsure of how to react; of how to hide their fear.

  ‘Hey, look!’ shouted a voice. ‘It’s the lil’ sweetheart who’s into Macejewski! I love him! Oh, Mack – I love him!’

  They turned to see Manbat, wads of bloody cotton wool up his nose, Stephen looming behind him.

  ‘Piss off, asshole,’ said Arkle. ‘I’ve already bust your nose – you want me to smash your mouth too?’

  ‘You’re Tench’s little bitch now,’ said Manbat, sweeping past them as Stephen knocked into Sep with his shoulder. ‘You might still be in detention when … if … you graduate. Laters!’

  Arkle gave their backs the finger.

  ‘We need to go,’ said Hadley. ‘Lamb’ll be waiting for us.’

  ‘I need to see Tench first,’ said Sep.

  ‘I’ll come with you, Sepster,’ said Arkle. ‘We’ll be there, Milky, it’s cool.’

  ‘You’d better be. I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.’

  Sep nodded. ‘We’ll be at the box soon, don’t worry.’

  Hadley’s hand brushed Sep’s as she turned to go and electricity lit his arm.

  ‘I’m scared,’ she said.

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ said Arkle. ‘Nothing bad ever happens during the day in a horror film, so we’re good for ages yet.’

  ‘What about The Shining?’ said Hadley as she was swallowed by the crowd.

  ‘I haven’t seen it,’ called Arkle.

  Sep watched her move down the stairs.

  ‘You’re in there,’ said Arkle, digging his ribs.

  ‘What?’ said Sep.

  ‘I said you’re in there,’ said Arkle again, louder. ‘With the Milky Bar Kid, I mean – she’s got a geek-on for you.’

  ‘She does not,’ said Sep.

  ‘She does too. You could talk about the periodic table of the elements.’

  ‘Shut up.’

  ‘You could hold hands and name all the bones in your fingers.’

  ‘Shut up.’

  ‘Then maybe she’ll feel your bo–’

  ‘Darren, seriously – shut up,’ said Sep, holding open the swing doors. ‘How much trouble did you get in?’

  ‘Not much, considering I hit someone in class. Tench hardly even reacted. This Maguire thing’s got him pretty distracted.’

  They were outside Tench’s office. The corridor was spookily quiet.

  ‘What do you think he wants to see me for?’ said Sep.

  ‘God knows,’ said Arkle. ‘Maybe he’s got new waders and he wants to give you a fashion show.’

  ‘Maguire’s properly hurt, you know. You don’t think that’s weird?’

  ‘How?’

  ‘That all this stuff is happening to us, then she gets hurt?’

  Sep ran his tongue over his tooth and waited for a flash of pain.

  ‘Nah,’ Arkle shrugged. ‘Right, in you go – I’ll get the goggle –’

  ‘Geiger –’

  ‘– Geiger counter, then I’ll wait for you out here.’

  ‘Why?’ said Sep, half turning from the doorway.

  ‘Just cos … you know.’

  ‘Do I?’

  ‘Yeah. Like, friends,’ said Arkle. He set to playing with his lighter.

  ‘All right,’ said Sep, and went inside.

  29

  Breathe

  Hadley clipped in the Wham! cassette as she left the school building. The last bars of ‘Come On!’ led into ‘Young Guns (Go For It!)’, and she rolled the volume control under her thumb, bumping through the throng of bodies.

  It would only be a matter of time until the others found out – she couldn’t keep it secret for much longer, and they were going to the box now.

  She suppressed a shiver as she pushed through the playground’s broiling heat towards the gate, keeping her head down in case anyone from English saw her, or worse …

  ‘Hoi, freak show!’

  … Sonya.

  Hadley turned to see her leering down from the top of the wall. Her face was framed by a tangle of badly permed hair and her eyes were so thickly lined they seemed almost closed. She gestured for Hadley to remove her headphones.

  ‘Heard about your little diary,’ she said, nudging Chantelle. ‘Can I read it? I could use a laugh.’

  ‘No,’ said Hadley.

  ‘No? You don’t say no to me, you little bitch. I still own you. Gimme your diary.’

  Hadley put her music back on and turned away. The familiar, forgotten panic, unfelt since the summer of sacrifice, began to squeeze her insides, and the world moved in a slow, hyper-real blur.

  ‘Don’t you walk away from me!’ Sonya shouted, dropping from the wall and pushing after her.

  Hadley reached the gate and ran, past the parents leaning on the bonnets of cars, through the buses and into the woodland at the back of the school. As she moved under the trees she felt her lungs squeeze and fumbled for her inhaler, slipping and plunging her foot into a puddle of sticky mud.

  ‘You can’t run, you wheezy bitch!’ said Chantelle as they reached the edge of the trees. ‘Or hide – we can hear you!’

  Hadley felt her chest closing, and wished at that moment she might run into Mack or Lamb – or Sep. Sep, who would have given her one of those looks where she could tell exactly what he was thinking, and they’d have wandered off in their own little world, not speaking – and not needing to.

  She found her inhaler, dropped it, leaned down to grab it in a head-swimming haze.

  Sonya’s frizz of hair loomed into view and Hadley ran again, throwing herself into a thicket of bushes and pulling her knees up to her chin.

  The woods became very quiet, and she heard the distant rumble of engines from the car park. The sound of safety, of people going lightly about their day.

  And here she was – a hundred feet away, trapped like a rat.

  ‘Where are you, freak show?’ whispered Sonya, alarmingly close.

  Hadley opened one eye and saw the big flat feet almost within reach, and she knew that all Sonya had to do was lean down, and they’d have her.

  Her chest constricted again and she felt her lungs slam shut.

  She looked at her inhaler. If she used it, the burst of sound would give her away. If she didn’t …

  ‘Where are you?’ Sonya roared, laughing and banging a stick against the trunk beside Hadley’s head.

  Hadley started to rock as her breathless chest began to pull on her consciousness.

  She thought of Sep again. She imagined his gentle hand on her back as he reached for the inhaler, guiding it to her mouth and pressing it with a hiss that filled every vein and threw her lungs open with a desperate, painful rush.

  Sonya’s feet stopped moving.

  Then her upside-down face loomed in the little gap through which Hadley had crawled, and she banged the stick on the trunk again.

  30

  Messenger

  Mrs Siddiqui was crying at her desk, a handkerchief clasped to her mouth.

  ‘Go in, September, he is waiting,’ she said with a weak smile.

  ‘Are you OK?’ said Sep.

  ‘Oh, yes, fine, fine. It has been a frightening morning. We are all very worried.’

  The door to Tench’s office jerked open and the headmaster appeared, enormous and gaunt, his normally pink face grey and slack.

  ‘Come on in, Sep,’ he said.

  Mrs Siddiqui blew her nose, nodding as Sep passed.

  Tench’s office was sweating behind half-drawn curtains. The headmaster, his face blank, sat behind his desk and began to wind in a reel of fishing line with a loud whirr.

  ‘Sit down. You’ve heard about Mrs Maguire?’

  ‘Yes, sir. Wob … Mr Clarke told us.’

  Tench nodded.

  ‘A wonderful woman, and an excellent guidance counsellor. I know you’re all scared of her, but she really …’ He tailed off and shook his head. ‘She thinks a lot of you, you know.’

  Sep blinked.

  ‘She does?’

  ‘Absolut
ely.’ Tench nodded. ‘Did she never show you the recommendation she wrote for your scholarship? No wonder you were invited to apply, with prize bait like that.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Sep. He tried to connect Maguire’s snarls to a glowing reference.

  ‘Anyway,’ said Tench, ‘she’s stable now and the police are investigating – your mother, in fact. And that’s what I was wanting to talk to you about actually. Your mother wanted me to keep you here until –’

  ‘What?’ Sep shouted. ‘Why?’

  Tench blinked at the outburst, then looked at Sep’s fist in the centre of the desk. Sep took his hand back sheepishly and sat down again, his back straight and his stomach hard.

  ‘Well,’ said Tench, ‘since you’ve nobody to walk home with and it’s not safe to be out on your own –’

  ‘But I do have someone! Darren’s waiting for me.’

  ‘Hooper?’

  Sep nodded.

  Tench puffed out his cheeks and grimaced.

  ‘I’m not sure Darren Hooper is really the best person for you to be spending time with.’

  ‘And why not?’ said Sep, his teeth clenched.

  ‘Well, for one thing he’s on a totally different … academic trajectory, and for another he’s got a standing appointment in my detention. Not to mention the world of trouble he’s in for that incident in Mrs Woodbank’s class this morning –’

  ‘But that was Manbat’s fault. He deserved it!’

  Tench frowned.

  ‘Nothing Wayne could have done would justify –’

  ‘And so what if Darren’s not doing well in school?’

  ‘Well … I … your mother said she’ll come and collect you as soon as she’s able. But since she’s working at least a double shift, you might have to get your dinner at my house.’

  Sep shook his head.

  ‘You’re not my dad.’

  Tench dropped the reel on his desk.

  ‘I’m not trying to be,’ said the headmaster firmly. ‘But while your mum’s busy and … not feeling well –’

  ‘I can take care of her,’ said Sep shortly. ‘I can keep the house clean and make her food. I’m older than last time; we don’t need you. Sir.’

  ‘Last time?’ said Tench, looking puzzled. ‘Look, you can’t be on your own, so you just have to –’

  Sep stood up.

  ‘I’m not on my own. And I’m leaving.’

  ‘Now listen here, young man,’ said Tench, his voice dropping. ‘The last thing Eleanor needs is –’