Demon Storm

by Justin Richards

  The door was pushed open. It was dark in the apartment behind. A figure staggered out on to the landing – into the light. Miss Haining.

  Her greying hair was plastered across her face. Her hands clutched and beat at the air in front of her, as if she was trying to fight off some animal. And she was screaming.

  For a moment her eyes latched on to Ben, but he had the feeling she couldn’t see him. Her stare was empty and unfocused. Her face was twisted in an agonised frenzy. As Ben watched, transfixed, a line of red appeared down Miss Haining’s cheek. As if she’d been scratched. She yelled and spun round, then back again. Her hands were clawing at her own face now as more scratches appeared.

  Lights snapped on. The door next to Miss Haining’s started to open. There were running feet somewhere on the floor above.

  Ben was sure he felt a slight draught – like something pushing past him on the stairway. Between the screaming and the running feet, he could swear he heard someone giggling.

  Then he turned and ran down the stairs. He heard the back door of the new block slam shut as he reached the bottom. He raced as fast as he could to his dormitory and dived into bed.

  He didn’t care that he was still wearing his coat and his slippers. He didn’t join the other boys hurrying down to see what was happening when they heard the siren and the ambulance arrived.

  He didn’t watch as Miss Haining was carried out on a stretcher … Her face scratched and torn, her eyes staring and wild, a dribble of saliva running from the corner of her slack mouth.

  Ben didn’t know that for the rest of her life she would never speak another coherent word. When he did crawl from under his covers and look out of his window, he was sure he could see a man standing in the distance, on the edge of the woods behind the home. A tall, thin, fair-haired man who walked with one shoulder sagging as if it carried a heavy weight.

  6

  THE DAY AFTER MISS HAINING WAS TAKEN away in the ambulance, Ben went to see Mr Magill.

  There was no one else in the maths room and Mr Magill was doing his marking. He glanced up from his desk to see who it was, then smiled sadly and gestured for Ben to come in.

  ‘Leaves a big hole, doesn’t it?’

  Ben didn’t have to ask what he meant. The words summed up perfectly how Ben felt, and the way that Mr Magill said them – his expression, his tone – made Ben wonder who Mr Magill had lost.

  ‘Who was he?’ Ben asked.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘The man in the suit. The man who came that night with the girl and the box. He had a car that looked old but I don’t think it was.’

  ‘Morgan,’ Mr Magill said.

  ‘Mr Morgan?’

  ‘No, the car is a Morgan. Hand-built. Lovely. You’re right, it’s not that old.’

  ‘But the man …’ Ben insisted. ‘You knew him. You brought him here.’

  Mr Magill nodded. ‘And that’s how I know he had nothing to do with Samantha’s disappearance. Nothing at all. He wanted to help her, you know. That’s why he came here.’

  ‘Can’t he help her now? Can’t you at least tell me who he was and let me ask him if he knows what’s happened to Sam?’

  Mr Magill stood up. He walked across to Ben and put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. ‘He can’t help. I’m so sorry. Really I am.’ Mr Magill looked away, not wanting to meet Ben’s accusing stare. ‘I’m leaving soon,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve got another job, a long way away.’

  ‘Isn’t that a bit sudden? Is it because of the man with the box? Is it because of what happened to Sam?’

  Mr Magill shook his head. ‘No, not at all. A job came up that I was interested in, that’s all.’ He went back to his desk and looked down at the exercise book he was marking. ‘I’m sorry I can’t help you, Ben. But the hole that’s been left – it will get smaller.’

  He glanced up and just briefly his eyes met Ben’s. They both knew he was lying about that as well.

  *

  Every day, Sam was there in Ben’s mind. He thought about her when he got up in the morning and while he ate his breakfast. He wondered what she was doing as he sat through lessons, and where she was when he stood out in the grounds of the home and stared unseeing into the distance.

  He spoke to her, though he knew she couldn’t hear. He imagined how she would reply – what she’d say, how she’d look as she said it. Some days he imagined she had her hair tied back. On others it flopped forward, round her face, and she tucked it behind her ear.

  But every day, Ben missed her. Every day, his heart felt like it had a heavy, cold stone in it. Every day, the excitement grew as he moved closer to seeing his sister again. On his birthday. By the lake. Like she’d promised.

  Two weeks after Sam disappeared, the morning of Ben’s fourteenth birthday was cloudy and grey. But to him it felt as if the sun was shining. He could barely wait until the afternoon. He hadn’t been back to the lake since Sam went – he didn’t want to be there without her. That would be too sad and empty for words.

  He could hardly eat any lunch. As soon as the afternoon lessons were over, he slipped away.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Jaz asked, seeing Ben get his coat from under the stairs.

  ‘Out.’

  ‘Out where?’

  Ben shrugged. ‘Just out. That’s all.’

  ‘But it’s cold. I think it’s raining.’

  Ben didn’t reply. He pulled his coat on and headed for the main door.

  ‘Can I come?’ Jaz asked.

  Ben shook his head. ‘I’d rather be on my own.’

  ‘But it’s your birthday. Are you sure you don’t want company?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Jaz nodded. ‘Take care,’ he said. ‘Don’t get daft. See you later, OK?’

  ‘OK,’ Ben agreed, and stepped out into the rain.

  *

  Ben could feel the anticipation growing within him. He had reached the narrow, muddy path round the lake. In the distance he could see the boarded-up house that he couldn’t remember ever living in. He walked faster and faster, breaking into a run as he turned the corner and saw the distant silhouette of the rotting wooden jetty.

  And through the rain he saw a figure waiting at the end of the jetty, looking out across the lake. Waiting for him.

  ‘Sam!’ he yelled. ‘I’m here – I’m coming!’

  Ben sprinted full pelt down the slight slope towards the shore. He skidded to a halt, almost slipping over in the mud, as he reached the wooden planking. He could remember Sam’s warning a year ago, could hear her voice in his memory as she told him not to go out on the jetty. Then he saw that the figure standing, waiting, was just the broken wooden mooring post sticking up from the broken planks.

  Desperate now, Ben looked all round, knowing she was here somewhere, expecting her at any minute to step out of the evening’s gathering darkness and grab him in a hug.

  But there was no one. Sam wasn’t there.

  *

  Time seemed to stand still. Only the steady beat of the rain on the wood and the water measured the seconds, the minutes – the hours – that Ben sat there on the side of the jetty.

  Finally, as the night closed in around him and the rain slowed again to a persistent drizzle, he wiped the water from his eyes and stood up.

  ‘Hello, Ben,’ Sam said.

  And his eyes were immediately full of water again. So many tears he could barely see her, so much relief and love he could barely feel her holding him.

  ‘I knew you’d come,’ he managed to say between his sobs.

  ‘I said I would. I’ll always be here for you Ben. I promised. I’ll always be here when you need me. Really I will. I won’t be far away.’

  ‘You’re not leaving me again?’ Ben said, blinking back the tears.

  ‘I have to. I’m sorry. So sorry.’

  Ben felt his hand slip from Sam’s grasp – like she wasn’t really there at all. ‘Don’t go! I only just found you,’ he gasped.

  ‘As often as I can, I
’ll be here with you.’

  She was walking slowly backwards, into the shadows at the edge of the lake.

  ‘Wait! Where are you going? Where will you be? Where have you been? When will I see you again?’

  Ben ran to catch her. But Sam was shaking her head, biting back the tears. Swallowed up by the darkness under the willow trees by the path.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ben. But I’m glad – so glad I saw you on our special day. Our promise day. And I promise. I promise I’ll always be here for you, whatever happens. Remember that. Believe that.’

  Ben stood in the rain, straining to see his sister’s pale face in the growing darkness, barely able to make out her silhouette. The movement of her hair as she turned and ran away down the path.

  ‘Happy birthday, Ben. I’ll see you soon.’

  He thought he could hear her crying. Maybe that was why she had to leave. She always turned away or hid when she wanted to cry. She never let him see the tears or hear the sobs.

  ‘Wait!’ Ben yelled. He was running after her, through the shadows, under the drip-drip of the rain off the willow branches. ‘Wait, Sam! I promise too. Always – we’ll be together always, whatever happens.’

  The path was sludge under his feet. The tears were rain in his eyes. And Ben was a shadow in the darkness, running alone.

  7

  THE ONLY WAY BEN COULD DISCOVER WHAT had happened to Sam was to find whoever had taken her that night. Miss Haining had known, but now she knew nothing at all. The man in the suit who’d brought the box might know, though. Miss Haining had been spying on him and Mr Magill – perhaps to find out how much they did know. He should have told Mr Magill, but the chance had gone now – as had Mr Magill. He’d left for his new job just before Ben’s birthday.

  Ben couldn’t think of any way to track down the fair-haired, lopsided man he’d seen on the night Miss Haining was attacked. So the man in the suit was his only lead. And his only way of finding him was to go to Mr Magill. Sam was out there somewhere. He didn’t understand why she’d run away from him, why she’d left him on his own by the lake. But he’d find out.

  Discovering where Mr Magill had gone was easier than he expected. He just asked. And Mrs Alten, who was covering the maths teaching, told him.

  ‘Oh, I think he went to a boarding school near Bristol somewhere. Did you want to write to him? How thoughtful. If you give the letter to me I’ll pass it on to the office and I’m sure they’ll send it for you.’

  She probably didn’t know the address, or even the name of the school, Ben thought. He considered writing to ask Mr Magill to come and visit him. If he said he knew where Sam was, would that bring Mr Magill and the man with the suit? He thought about it for a long time, then he wrote a short note saying how much he missed Mr Magill and hoped he was enjoying his new job and that Mrs Alten was very nice but didn’t give out lollipops.

  Ben sealed the note in an envelope he got from Big Jim. The envelope was a distinctive pale blue, but to be sure Ben wrote Mr Magill’s name is spiky capitals on the front.

  Mrs Alten was as good as her word. The post going out from the home was left in a special tray on the desk in the main office. Ben thought of several different excuses to go to the office during the day. But he needed only one. The corner of a small blue envelope poked out from under a pile of official-looking large brown ones in the tray.

  ‘I think it’s Charlie’s birthday this week,’ Ben told Mrs Trundall. ‘I’d like to give him a card, but I want to be sure I get the right day.’

  ‘Why don’t you just ask him when it is? Or one of the other boys?’

  ‘I want it to be a surprise.’

  Mrs Trundall smiled. ‘That’s very sweet, Ben. Wait a moment and I’ll check for you.’

  As soon as she turned away to open the filing cabinet, Ben lifted the brown envelopes. Sure enough, the blue envelope had Mr Magill’s name on in Ben’s writing and underneath that was the address of the school where he was now working.

  ‘You’re right. Charlie’s birthday is on Thursday.’ Mrs Trundall sat down at her desk again. ‘I must remember to wish him a happy birthday myself.’

  *

  They received a little pocket money in the home. Not much, but Ben had been saving his for a while. He never spent a lot anyway. Some of the boys had Nintendos and PSPs and spent their money on games for them. But Ben wasn’t really into that. He just bought a few books, the odd bar of chocolate or bag of sweets. So even before he started saving, he had some funds.

  More than enough for a train ticket to Bristol.

  He got the train times off the Internet from the library computer. He decided to catch the last train of the day. That way he shouldn’t be missed until morning. Seeing how little effort had been put into hunting for Sam, he didn’t think anyone would spend much time trying to track him down. Mrs Alten might recall he had written to Mr Magill, but that was a chance he’d have to take.

  Ben drifted off to sleep soon after the train pulled out. He was jolted awake as it left Cheltenham and again a few minutes later at Gloucester. He hadn’t really planned much further ahead than getting on the train. He knew there were two stations at Bristol and he wanted the one in the city centre – Temple Meads. But there was no point in trying to find St Humbert’s School at gone midnight. He just needed somewhere to wait in the warm until morning …

  There were several waiting rooms at the station. Ben chose the smallest, where there were only a few other people. A young man was stretched out on one of the bench seats, his head resting on an enormous rucksack. An old woman with a supermarket carrier bag burped and smelt of drink. A man in an expensive coat complained into his mobile that he’d missed the last train and would have to wait until five a.m. for the next one and what was the country coming to and how awful it was and did they call this a service when you couldn’t even get coffee after midnight, never mind a brandy?

  Ben huddled into a fixed plastic seat in the corner of the room and eventually fell asleep.

  *

  When he woke, the station was coming to life. His watch told him it was just after half past five. The man with the mobile had gone and a few more people had arrived. A young couple with huge suitcases plastered with tags and airline labels were laughing together.

  Ben forced himself to wait a bit longer, then found a taxi at the front of the station. He told the driver the name of the school and the address.

  ‘You’ll be a bit early,’ the driver joked.

  ‘Extra maths with Mr Magill,’ Ben said.

  ‘At seven in the morning? That’s keen.’

  Ben settled back into the seat as the taxi pulled out into the start of the early-morning rush hour.

  ‘What do I say to Mr Magill?’ he wondered.

  Ben saw that the driver’s eyes were fixed on him in the rear-view mirror. Had he spoken out loud?

  ‘You all right back there?’

  ‘Fine, thanks.’

  *

  Ben waited outside the school gates until it was half past eight. Although it was a boarding school, some children obviously came each day. Ben tagged on to the back of a group of children who arrived together and walked up the long drive from the road. The main school building was red brick, imposing and Victorian. It was a bit like the home, only less forbidding and better cared for.

  Ben followed the signs for ‘Reception’ to a large wooden door. Inside was an entrance hall with another door leading into an office. The door was wedged open so the lady at the desk could see anyone who came in.

  ‘Can I help you?’ she called. ‘Sorry – I don’t think I know your name.’

  ‘It’s Ben. Ben Foundling.’ He went into the office. She looked like a kind lady, with grey hair and glasses hanging on a chain round her neck.

  ‘Foundling.’ She frowned. ‘Have you just started this term?’

  ‘I need to see Mr Magill. It’s very urgent.’

  The woman’s frown had deepened as she absorbed the details of Ben’s appearance.
His coat was crumpled from being slept in and he didn’t have the same bright blue blazer as the other boys he’d seen arriving.

  ‘I have to see Mr Magill,’ Ben repeated. ‘He teaches here. He’s new.’

  The woman barely took her eyes off Ben as she picked up the phone on the desk.

  ‘It’s Miss Flecker. Could you see if Mr Magill is still in the staff room and ask him to come to the office. I think it might be rather important. He has a … visitor.’

  There were two armchairs in a little waiting area in front of the desk, but Ben didn’t sit down. He stood and waited while Miss Flecker got on with her work, glancing up at him occasionally.

  Several minutes later, Mr Magill appeared and was more than surprised. ‘Ben! What on earth are you doing here?’

  ‘I needed to see you, sir.’

  ‘You do know this boy?’ Miss Flecker asked.

  Mr Magill nodded. ‘I, er, used to teach him. Perhaps you could give us a minute, Miss Flecker?’

  He waited for Miss Flecker to give a loud sniff and leave, then nudged the wedge out from under the door with his foot and let it swing shut.

  ‘So what’s going on, Ben? Does anyone know you’re here?’

  Ben shook his head.

  There was silence for several moments. Then Mr Magill sighed. ‘Are you in trouble? Some problem at the home?’

  Ben shook his head again, not trusting himself to speak.

  Mr Magill sighed again. He took a mobile phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, holding it up and staring for several seconds at it. Just as the man in the suit had done.

  ‘It’s Sam,’ Ben blurted out.

  ‘Sam? Have they found her?’

  Ben hesitated. Should he tell Mr Magill he’d seen Sam?

  ‘Look,’ Mr Magill went on, ‘I’m going to ring your housemaster at the home, Mr Logan, and tell him you’re here and that you’re safe. Then we can arrange to get you back. I can maybe get you something to eat here. OK?’