Authors: Kara Karnatzki
Chapter Twenty Six
I’
d like to think that if a person were injured, whether they weregood or bad,
I’
d try to help. Tha
t’
s humanity, is
n’
t it? If my worst enemy got hit by a car,
I’
d cry for them. If my horrible Aunt Jessica, wh
o’
d been mean to my mum for years, broke her leg in a skiing accident,
I’
d visit her in hospital. And if I ever heard that Marshall Finch was trapped in a house fire,
I’
d be sick with worry.
I’
d want him to be okay. But maybe tha
t’
s just me.
Anyway, while the others went to investigate, I stayed with Byron. I cleaned his wound as best as I could, using a pack of sterile wipes
I’
d found in Miss Nevi
s’
s desk drawer, then I attempted to make a bandage out of hessian strips. I tried not to look too horrified as I tightened it around the cut. My hands were shaking so much I could barely tie the knot. I did
n’
t want to scare him, but the truth was, his knee was slashed from side to sid
e–
the sort of thing you see on those accident and emergency hospital documentaries. It looked agonising. Even so, he smiled at me, like he was grateful I was paying him some attention.
‘
I was
n’
t expecting a pity party
,’
he said
.‘
But the looks on their faces -
I’
m loathed, are
n’
t I
?
’
‘
I would
n’
t worry about it
,’
I said vaguely
.‘
Try not to move your leg. I
t’
ll make the bleeding worse
.
’
‘
Yo
u’
d make a good doctor, Kate
.
’
‘
Thanks, but I think
I’
ll stick with graphic design
.
’
‘
Shame
.
’
I helped him to sit.
‘I’
ve got no idea how I managed to make it up the steps
.
’
‘
Yo
u’
ll be okay
.
’
‘I’
m sure yo
u’
re right. Although i
t’
s never wise to expose an open wound to the toxicity of rat-infested floodwater. Next stop: gangrene
.
’
He looked over the lower half of his body, gave a shrug.
‘
I guess tha
t’
s pretty much it for my left leg. Oh well. Perhaps I could replace it with a robotic one.
I’
ve always been fascinated by bionic science
.
’
I could
n’
t believe he was being so casual about it. Perhaps he was delirious. Suddenly there was a noise from the stairwell. The others were returning.
‘
I hope they're okay
,’
I whispered
.‘
I mean, aren't you scared? Do you think there really was something down there
?
’
‘
Who knows,Kate
,
’ he said, with a strange smile.
‘
Fearis so powerful is
n’
t it? Arguably the most powerful emotion in the world. People do all sorts of crazy things in its name. I
t’
s why dictators love it. It gives them such control
.
’
Before I could get him to explain what he meant by this, Gemma swooped in.
‘
Just as we suspected
,
’ shegrowled.
‘
Nothing
!
’
‘
You
were talking bollocks
!’
said Curtis, waggling a finger at Byron.
‘
Did you actually check
in
the water
?’
asked Byron.
‘
No
!
’
‘
Well, tha
t’
s where it was, beneath the surface. Like I said, I did
n’
t see it, I just felt it
.
’
‘
Whatever
,’
said Gemma.
‘
The fact of the matter is we do
n’
t trust you, Byron. And we have good reason not to
.
’
They all stood over him, arms folded, like some kind of mafia.
‘
Go and get his phone
,’
Gemma ordered, nodding at Greg.
‘I’
ll show everyone what we know about
you
, Ryanor Byron, or whatever yo
u’
re name is.
I’
ll show you what a creep and a freak you are, taking pictures of us all, making notes, following us aroun
d…
wher
e’
s that phone
?
’
We could hear Greg stumbling about in the dark.
‘
PHONE
!’
shouted Gemma.
‘
Get it
now
!
’
Greg mumbled something.
‘
I ca
n’
t
,’
he called.
‘
What
?
’
‘
The phone, I ca
n’
t find it
.
’
‘
I left it on the table
,’
said Gemma impatiently.
‘
Where the others are
.
’
‘
I mean, I ca
n’
t find
any
of them. The
y’
ve gone. The
y’
re not there. Someon
e’
s taken them
.
’
‘
You must have knocked them off. They were there a minute ago. We were looking at them
.
’
‘
Well, the
y’
re not there now
!
’
‘
Someon
e’
s moved them, then? Wh
o’
s moved them
?
’
Gemma glanced at me, then Leon, then Curtis. We shrugged and shook our heads.
Then we all turned to Byron.
Chapter Twenty Seven
‘
Think what you like
,’
said Byron, spitting the words.
‘
I have
n’
t touched the phones
.
’
His neutral cool had been replaced by anger. He gave Gemma dagger eyes. She gave them back to him.
‘
Where. Are. The. Phones
?’
she demanded.
He tried mirroring the little shrug/head shakethat everyone else gave when the same question was addressed to them. It did
n’
t work.
‘
Do
n’
t act like you do
n’
t know
,’
said Greg.
‘
But I
do
n’
t
,’
he insisted.
Personally, I believed him. He could barely stand and,from the moment h
e’
d come back into the room,
I’
d been by his side. He had
n’
t been near the table where the phones were kept.
‘C’
mon, mate
,’
said Leon, with a decent-guy voice that did
n’
t quite cover his true anger.
‘
Do the right thing. Give them back. We know yo
u’
ve been messing about with them.'
'I don't think he has,' I said.
Gemma glared at me like I was betraying her.
‘
Wher
e’
s your loyalty
?’
she snarled.
Then to Byron.
‘
And where are our phones
?
’
‘I’
ve told you, I
do
n’
t have
them
.’
He wriggled with anger. His bandage slipped. I tried to still him.
‘
Careful
,’
I said.
‘
Watch out for your knee
.’
‘
Screw his knee
!’
said Curtis.
‘
We want our phones
!
’
‘
You know what I think
?’
said Gemma.
‘
I think h
e’
s trying to hide the evidence. But i
t’
s too late. W
e’
ve already seen it
.
’
‘
Seen what
?’
said Bryon.
‘
The stalker files, tha
t’
s what
,’
said Gemma
.‘
Me and Kate, we went through everything
.
’
‘
You looked through my phone
?’
said Byron, directly to me, as if no one else was in the room. He sounded hurt.
Embarrassed, I hid beneath my hair.
‘
Yes - I - Gemma showed me
-
’
‘
I
t’
s not what it looks like
,’
he said, shaking his head.
‘
Whatever she says, i
t’
s not what it
-
’
I did
n’
t know. I was
n’
t sure. In that moment, I did
n’
t know
what
to believe.
‘
Please, Kate
,’
he continued.
‘
Do
n’
t listen to them
.
’
His eyes were stark, pleading, like he was desperate for me to understand.
Gemma tugged my arm.
‘
Enough of the love-in
,’
she hissed.
The next few moments happened in a flash, a firecracker taking off. Gemma tried to lead me away, butas she did, Byron grabbed my hand and yanked me back. I do
n’
t think he meant in a bad way. He was just trying to make me see his point, but I guess it looked a bit ferocious. Everyone jumped on him.
‘
Get your hands off her
!
’ shouted Greg.
‘
Touch Kate again and
I’
ll get my dad onto you
,’
said Gemma, eyes narrowing.
‘
Your dad
?’
said Byron sulkily.
‘
The seedy little man who got caught running away from a chip shop with his trousers round his ankles? I do
n’
t think so
.
’
There was a unified gasp. I mean, i
t’
s an unspoken code, is
n’
t i
t–
never criticise someon
e’
s parents, especially not in public, especially not in the middle of their messy d.i.v.o.r.c.e. Even
I
could see that Byron had over-stepped the mark this time. Gemma exploded, started shouting, screaming, telling Greg to get Byron away from her. But Byron did
n’
t care.
‘
Only pointing out the obvious
,’
he said.
‘
Just give us back our phones, you prick
!’
said Greg, squaring up to him
.‘
Then leave us alone
!’
‘
Please
,’
said Byron
.‘
Wha
t’
s so hard for you to comprehend? I. Do. Not. Have. Them. Show some intelligence, I beg you
.
’
‘
Do
n’
t get rude
!’
said Curtis, thumping his fist on the table.
‘
Or
I’
ll have you, I swear! Yo
u’
ll be toast!'
‘
Is this another threat
?’
said Byron
.‘
I told you, Kate, did
n’
t I? Curtis has a sinister side - well, not that sinister, if itinvolves breakfast food
.
’
His eyes were wired and bulgy, like he was losing his mind. His mouth was a leer.
‘
To be honest, i
t’
s Greg
I’
m worried about
,
’ he continued.
‘
All that latent dead-mother ange
r
…’
–
Greg looked u
p
–
‘
That sort of thing makes a person unpredictable. I mean, no matter how much he clings to Gemma Dyce, let's face it, sh
e’
s no replacement mother figure. And anger needs an outlet, does
n’
t it? No good burying it, because it finds its way to the surface eventually. Like a volcano
.
’
Gemma launched at him. The boys pulled her off. Greg, meanwhile, bit his lip and kicked the table. It slammed across the room, silencing everyone. Byron struggled into a sitting position.
‘
If
I’
m going to be a target
,’
he said, laughing
,‘
I might as well be a sitting one - ha ha
!
’
Then he leaned towards me. He was still grinning, but I could tell, inside, he was spiralling.
‘
While
I’
m prepared to take responsibility for some of the bad things I
have
done
,’
he said.
‘I’
m not going to take the blame for other peopl
e’
s mischief. I mean, it is
n’
t my fault that someone has decided to become a phantom phone hider. One of you is
n’
t being entirely honest, but who
?
’
I just stood there, bewildered, not sure where to go or what to do.