The Hunting (37 page)

Genie struggled up. ‘Can you take me home?’

‘That’s why I’m here. But you’re going to have to tell me what’s going on, girl. There’s
something
going on. That poor boy. Dying twice. His parents wouldn’t come. They say they have buried him. The academy is confused – and then there is the matter of the blue Mini and a horse.’

Genie sipped some water left by her bed.

‘I saw it.’

‘I heard about it on the news. That’s why I went looking for you. Quite remarkable, quite.’

Genie lay back on the bed a moment, a tad dizzy. ‘I don’t understand why I can see things and not be able to warn them. I saw Cary lying on the tree stump, Mrs Finney. I saw the blood, but it had already happened. There was nothing I could do to help him.’

‘But you saw the crashed car before it happened.’

Genie closed her eyes. The image of Cary lying on his hospital bed with all the tubes ripped out came back to her with an extraordinary vividness.

‘I couldn’t save Cary. I didn’t see that they would try to kill him.’

‘
They?
’

Genie opened her eyes again. Mrs Finney was standing. A nurse approached.

‘Hello, Rhiannon. You feeling better? Can I just run some tests? Can you see my fingers? How many am I holding?’

‘Two.’

She opened up her hand. ‘Now?’

‘Five. And your wedding ring is pale gold.’

The nurse smiled at Mrs Finney.

‘She’s OK. Take her home. If the police want to talk to her they have your number.’ She looked at Genie again. ‘It’s a nasty bump. If you even feel slightly dizzy, lie down. Don’t go to school tomorrow and don’t read anything. Understand?’

‘Don’t tell me, tell her,’ Genie said with a faint smile.

Mrs Finney smiled and the nurse helped Genie up off the bed.

Genie looked at the nurse again. ‘Are you sure he never talked?’

She shook her head. ‘He couldn’t have. He saw you, I think. At least you came. At least you were here.’

Genie felt numb. She let Mrs Finney guide her towards the doors and the elevator beyond. Cary was dead. Schneider had killed him. He must know the rest of them were on the island. How long had she got before he came for them?

‘I know a nice little place for coffee,’ Mrs Finney was saying. ‘I think we have a lot to talk about.’

‘Mrs Finney?’

‘Yes, Rhiannon?’

‘Sometimes things are too fantastical. I think you should know that.’

Mrs Finney looked at Genie with a curious expression as they went down in the elevator. She didn’t speak again until they were in her car – something quite old and battered and quite suited to her. Genie felt quite reassured by it and the dents in the doors.

‘I’ve been driving this old thing for thirteen years and I think I can get at least two more out of it,’ she said, as Genie appraised the scuffed upholstery and the faded plastic.

Genie smiled, relaxing a little. ‘I like old cars. Old Volkswagens are cool.’

She noticed it wasn’t so cold any more. All the snow had gone. How had that happened?

‘Glad the snow has gone. That’s what I like about the island. Short winters,’ Mrs Finney declared. ‘Right. Coffee it is. I hope there’s some cake left. They do a wonderful banana loaf.’

Genie took deep breaths. She was going to get through this. Whether Mrs Finney would, she didn’t know, but she was right, an explanation was probably owed.

‘
T
his is my secret place,’ Mrs Finney said as she held the hot latté mug in her hands.

‘I thought it was quite special, a hideaway from the school and my husband. Met a wonderful man here once. Of course, he turned out to be married. Wonderful men are always married, it seems.’

Genie had just told her everything. From being locked up by her mother and Reverend Schneider to the flood, to the Fortress and the bodies in the forest. She’d left nothing out. Not Marshall, nor Moucher, even the wolf. And all Mrs Finney had done so far is order another round of lattés. Genie must have talked for two, three hours. Her voice felt hoarse. Nothing. No reaction from her at all. The lattés were good though and she appreciated the place being warm as the wind battered the windows outside. They were the only customers and the barista was busy cleaning the far end, steering well clear.

‘Of course, you know there are absolutely no wolves around Cobble Hill. Mr Finney and his pals would be out there with guns every night if they thought there were. And you are well aware of the Freudian interpretation of wolves.’

‘The wolf isn’t a dream and he’s not even part of the story really,’ Genie protested. ‘He only just appeared.’

Mrs Finney looked at Genie with big round eyes over her coffee mug and pulled a face.

‘And then again, we both know teleportation is utterly impossible, so I shall discount that part of the story, but the flood was real. I was in Chilliwack in January and it rained two hundred millimetres in a day, flooding homes and businesses and … well, I felt for Spurlake. I know it must have been devastating.’

‘So you don’t believe
anything
I said?’ Genie asked, disappointed.

‘What I believe is that you are one hell of a good storyteller, Rhiannon – or is it Genie? – and you are at completely the wrong school for you. Of course, what kind of school actually exists for storytellers, I don’t know. It’s the curse of modern education. They want facts, tests, aptitude monitors, almost anything but imagination and you, my dear, have a brilliant imagination.’

‘But what about the visions? You know I saw a Mini crash before—’

‘Precognition. That’s an interesting area. I grant you that, but you said yourself, it’s something you can’t control. But appearing … disappearing … that Mosquito attack, excellent, a very good detail. And I simply loved the bad guy. He’s pure evil. Stringbird?’

‘Strindberg. Carson Strindberg,’ Genie corrected her, feeling very downcast. She should never have said anything. She’d exposed Ri and Renée for nothing. Mrs Finney didn’t believe a single word.

‘And that,’ Mrs Finney added with shining eyes, ‘that was the perfect
coup de grâce
. Making the school governor the evil genius behind it is just a perfect touch. I almost believed you until his name came up …’

‘Carson Strindberg is the governor of Cobble Hill?’ Genie exploded, nearly spilling her coffee.

‘Why yes, dear. He owns most of the school. It was his project from the beginning. The best and the brightest all together.
Permissum indoles vigeo
– let genius bloom. His own words.’

Genie felt dizzy again. She had walked into a trap.
Denis, how could you have done this to us?
Strindberg
owned
Cobble Hill. No wonder Reverend Schneider had found Cary so quickly. The worry was, where was Reverend Schneider now? On his way to kill Ri and Renée? But then, why hadn’t he killed them earlier?

‘Are you all right?’

Genie shook her head. ‘We have to go back to the school. I need to warn my friends.’ She drank her coffee quickly and stood up.

‘It doesn’t matter that you don’t believe me, Mrs Finney. Nothing matters. It may be too late. Reverend Schneider is probably already at the school.’

‘The man who steals souls.’

‘It was him in the hospital today. He pulled the plug on Cary. He hates us. We survived. He won’t want witnesses.’

‘But you didn’t say you recognized him at the hospital.’

‘I can’t. They can access the police radio, all emails, they can intercept everything. You have no idea of how quickly they can find people, Mrs Finney. If I told them who it was, they would know it was one of us who IDd him and they would go through all the CCTV data at the hospital – I’ll be on it.’ She looked at Mrs Finney. ‘I’m not kidding, Mrs Finney. We have to go now.’

Mrs Finney shrugged. ‘You do know that it’s one thing believing a fantasy, Rhiannon, but living it can only end up one way – and that’s in a straitjacket.’

‘I’d never have that luxury, Mrs Finney.’

Reluctantly, Mrs Finney picked up her car keys and headed towards the door.

She paused momentarily. ‘If I called this Marshall person, do you think he would corroborate your story in any way, Rhiannon?’

Genie smiled and shook her head. ‘I’d be disappointed if he did. He knows no one believes us. We tried before. Not going down that road again.’

Mrs Finney opened the door and the bell trilled. She stepped back a moment, surprised to find someone there. Reverend Schneider was standing outside, about to enter. Genie let escape a short, sharp scream. She couldn’t help herself, then coughed, quickly looking down, in the vain hope he wouldn’t recognize her.

Mrs Finney was all smiles though.

‘Padre, you’re a long way from home.’

‘Mrs Finney?’

Genie was stunned. They knew each other? How was this possible?

‘Just having a heart to heart with Rhiannon,’ she said in her most earnest, confidential tone. ‘Sometimes it’s good to listen.’

‘Much in favour of talking things over myself. Well done, Mrs Finney.’

Reverend Schneider raised his hat and let them pass. He looked at Genie with a penetrating stare, but didn’t say anything.

‘
Padre?
’ Genie asked Mrs Finney. She dare not talk to him directly.

‘Oh you don’t know. Padre McGrath has been sent to us for a semester. Padre Ronan was taken ill suddenly last week. But still –’ she turned back to face Reverend Schneider ‘– I don’t know how you know this particular coffee shop, Padre.’

‘I was asked to go to the hospital tonight and say a prayer for that poor unfortunate boy who died. And they recommended this place. Only coffee shop still open this late and I’m very partial to strawberry cheesecake.’

‘Oh it’s the best. Enjoy, Padre. Safe journey home.’

Genie despaired. Now Mrs Finney knew him as Padre McGrath. How could she prove he was Reverend Schneider? How soon would he strike? He must have recognized her. Must have wanted to strangle her on the spot. She would keep an eye out for his car on the road in case he tried anything.

‘You both get home safely now. I’ll see you in assembly tomorrow.’

Mrs Finney smiled. ‘You too, Padre. Come on, Rhiannon. We have a long way to go and my cat will be hungry.’

Genie followed her to the car closely, her legs shaking again. Why was she so afraid of him? She’d stood up to him before. She braced herself for attack, expecting a knife to be thrown in her back or something. She glanced back quickly and discovered he was inside the coffee shop ordering cake. Perhaps she’d been lucky. She looked so different now and had hair. So lucky she’d dyed it black. She could hope at least.

‘That was quite a scream,’ Mrs Finney said as she got into the car.

‘I …’ Genie felt a sudden urge to throw up and raced to the grassy area beyond and let it go.

Mrs Finney watched her in amazement as Genie heaved at least three times. Then shrugged. ‘Better out than in,’ she told herself and turned the ignition key.

The explosion threw the car high up into the air before it crashed down again burning fiercely. Genie saw nothing. She’d been blown five metres or more into the bushes. She’d stopped vomiting with the shock of the blast.

She looked up. Reverend Schneider had disappeared. The windows of the coffee shop had blown in, the barista was staggering around, bloodied, but alive.

A car suddenly started up down the road; she heard tyres squeal. Genie glimpsed a Mercedes speed off, leap high into the air over a speed hump and disappear down the road.

Mrs Finney was no more. Genie backed further into the bushes and began to walk away in the other direction. Let Reverend Schneider believe she was dead. Had he seen her at the hospital? How was it possible he’d even known she was at the coffee shop with Mrs Finney? Mrs Finney hadn’t believed her. Not a single word. Lesson learned. No one ever would.

She had to get home to the others before Reverend Schneider got there.

She noticed lights coming on in buildings everywhere. They all must have heard the blast. Sirens were coming towards her in the far distance. She discovered she was standing by an old Chevy truck, much like Marshall’s.

She looked up to the sky and thought of God. If she ever needed proof he existed, this had to be something right? It was a miracle she hadn’t died.

‘Hi, God. You do know I’m a lost cause, right? You should know I haven’t got long to live. Find someone else to protect. I’m not going to be around much longer.’

The truck door was unlocked. She flipped down the sun visor and the ignition key fell into her lap. Just like Marshall’s. She looked around. She was alone for the moment. With luck everyone would be looking at the burning car by the coffee shop, not her, not at the old truck. It was theft. She was going to break the law and God would be angry with her, but she
had
to get to Rian and Renée before Reverend Schneider. Break the law or let them be killed. No contest in her mind.

She got it started on the second try. Backed out of there and was on her way.

Maybe she was crazy, just as Mrs Finney had said. But right now, she figured, crazy wins. She thought of poor Julia and Miho. Had he already found them? Or were they safe? With luck they probably didn’t know they were alive again. She hoped so.

S
he cut the engine and waited a moment. She had parked one block away from the cabin after cruising up and down the narrow track that fed the few homes nearby. No Mercedes was hidden that she could see. But that didn’t mean Reverend Schneider hadn’t walked down from the school. If he knew her name was Rhiannon, which he did, then he could check the admin computer and it would give the cabin’s address. Simple. What she didn’t know was whether she was here before him or whether it was too late.

It was good the snow had melted. The clock on the truck was broken, but she knew it was about eleven p.m. Renée would be in bed, Rian most likely studying. She wondered if they had made a fire. Wondered if they had missed her, or even cared, or checked the message she’d left. Or were their bodies lying on the floor, their blood spilling down between the cracks? She wished the wolf were here now. She definitely needed protection.