Underworld Page 2

  Mr Marks screamed at him, his anger taking Zesh by surprise. ‘I’m not interested in what’s fair. There will be no fighting in this school.’

  Axel struggled to be free of his grip but Mr Marks wouldn’t let him go. ‘Think you’re smart, don’t you, O’Rourke. Told me I’d be sorry, didn’t you. You didn’t waste any time.’

  Axel wasn’t listening. ‘Let me go!’ he yelled, but Mr Marks held firm.

  ‘You’re not getting away with this, O’Rourke.’ He looked at Zesh, saw for the first time the real pallor in his face. ‘What’s wrong with you, Zesh?’

  Zesh shook his head. ‘Not used to fighting, sir.’ He was breathing hard. ‘Can I go to the toilet, sir?’

  Mr Marks hesitated. Then he nodded. ‘Back here in five minutes. You’re both going to the headmaster.’ He glared at Axel. ‘Maybe you should just move into his office, O’Rourke, you spend so much time there.’

  Zesh stumbled into the toilet, pushed the door closed. He checked out the cubicles one by one, looking under the doors to see if there were any feet visible.

  Thankfully, there was no one there. He fell against the sink, his breath coming in wheezing gasps. With every second it was getting harder for him to breathe. He searched frantically through his pockets for his inhaler, desperate to find it. He never left home without it, his mother would never let him. Just in case. He needed it so seldom now, but he wasn’t used to fighting. In his panic he was sure it wasn’t there today. He didn’t want anyone to know about his asthma. Rick was the only one who knew. Where was it!

  Suddenly, he felt it in his pocket, grabbed for it, pulled it out so sharply that it slipped from his grasp, hit the tiles and rolled into one of the cubicles. Zesh let out a moan, got down on his knees. He wanted to breathe so badly he was almost ready to cry. Where had it gone? He saw it had come to rest, hitting against the bowl. Normally, Zesh wouldn’t touch anything from the floor of these toilets, but he was desperate. That inhaler was life.

  He crawled across the floor, lay flat, too breathless to stand, and stretched his arm under the door for the inhaler. He gripped it as if he was afraid it would suddenly leap from his fingers. He sat up, leaning against the door, and puffed it into his mouth. He breathed deeply, as deeply as he could. Waited a moment, then breathed again. Immediately, he felt his lungs open up. It was like some miracle. He took in the air gratefully. It always seemed to him like a miracle. From no breath, to life, and just because of this little piece of plastic. He breathed again deeply, and then got to his feet. Now he was ready to face anything.

  Just in time. Mr Marks pushed open the door as Zesh slipped the inhaler back into his pocket. ‘Ready, Zesh?’ he asked.

  Zesh splashed his face with water. ‘Ready, sir,’ he answered and he followed the teacher out the door.

  There was quiet in the boys’ toilets, but only for a moment. Only until one of the cubicle doors opened, and Liam jumped to the ground. He was sure he must be sussed when the inhaler had rolled into the cubicle he was in, but it was only Zesh’s arm that had appeared, snatching desperately, and he hadn’t even noticed Liam perched on the seat like a vulture.

  Liam liked knowing things about people. Things no one else did.

  And now he knew Mr Perfect Zesh had a weakness. He had asthma.

  Chapter 4

  ‘Let me go!’ Axel was still struggling wildly as he was dragged up the long corridor to the headmaster’s office. Mr Marks was saying nothing, but his face was grim. Zesh had to quicken his pace to keep up with him, and even he was wondering about the anger on the teacher’s face. Just because he’d caught them fighting?

  ‘You’re hurting me!’ Axel made one more futile attempt to free himself. ‘I could have you for this.’

  ‘Report me then.’ Mr Mark’s voice was flat and harsh. When he reached the headmaster’s door he almost threw Axel inside.

  ‘What’s your problem?’ Axel began pulling his jumper back into shape and was taken aback by the vehemence of the teacher’s anwer to that.

  ‘What’s my problem?’ He exploded. ‘Where were you last night, O’Rourke?’

  ‘None of your business … sir,’ he added sarcastically.

  Mr Marks just stared at him. ‘Oh, I think it’s completely my business. You’d better have an alibi for last night, boy.’

  I might as well not be here, Zesh thought. It’s as if they’re here on their own. I could sneak out and not be missed. He wouldn’t do that, of course. That wasn’t his way. Stand up and face the music, that was his way. He wondered what his father would say if he learned that Zesh had got into trouble. He’d be surprised, and angry too. ‘Letting the side down, Zeshan,’ he could almost hear him say.

  Then, an even more horrifying thought rushed at Zesh. What if this spoiled his chances of being chosen for the school trip?

  He was so caught up with his own thoughts he almost missed what Axel was saying, until he finally shouted, ‘Somebody slashed your tyres, sir?’ His voice was triumphant. ‘Good for them!’

  Mr Marks glared at him. ‘As I say, you’d better have an alibi.’

  ‘You should keep your car in a garage, sir. It would be safer.’

  ‘You obviously know I don’t.’

  Axel’s eyes flashed. ‘I know nothing. I’m not getting the blame for this. I get the blame for everything.’

  Mr Marks moved his face so close to Axel’s that Zesh thought he was about to head-butt him. Way too close. He could see the anger still in the teacher’s face. He was inches – seconds – away from losing it completely, and ruining his whole career.

  ‘I’ll not let you squirm your way out of this one.’

  Zesh saw Mr Marks’s knuckles tighten on the shoulder of Axel’s jacket. He could see exactly what the teacher really wanted to do. Lift Axel off the ground. Probably throw him through a window. For a second, Zesh was almost sure he would. He was a powerful man, Mr Marks.

  ‘Sir!’ Zesh shouted, wanting to break the tension. ‘The headmaster will be in assembly now. He won’t be back in the office for ages.’

  Axel finally managed to pull away. ‘You’re a head case. Sir!’

  Mr Marks took a step back, just realising what he had almost done. He seemed to shake himself, as if he was coming out of a dream. ‘OK, both of you go. For now!’ He fastened his eyes once more on Axel. ‘But you haven’t heard the last of this.’

  ‘Slash his tyres? Did you?’ Zesh asked as he and Axel burst from the office.

  ‘Me? Wish I had thought of it.’ Axel jumped and punched his fist in the air. Zesh watched him as he ran off, watched him and wondered. You never knew with Axel.

  ‘Axel? Where did he get a name like that?’ someone asked Fiona.

  ‘It’s short for axe murderer,’ she said without a moment’s hesitation. ‘That’s his chosen weapon of mass destruction. Or it will be when he figures out which end is which.’

  She laughed loudly, so did everyone else. They had all been speculating about whether Axel was the culprit. The consensus was that he must be. Guilty until proven guilty. It would be too much of a coincidence that some random vandal had chosen last night to slash Mr Marks’s tyres, the same day that Axel had threatened the teacher. No, despite his protests, and they were given with a snigger – almost as if he enjoyed being a suspect – everyone took it for granted that Axel was the guilty one. Fiona wasn’t so sure. She couldn’t say why. It was a feeling. ‘Women’s intuition.’ Ha! That was a joke. She didn’t believe in all that hokum.

  They were being herded into the assembly hall, herded being the operative word, Fiona thought grimly. She was almost waiting for one of the teachers to produce a lasso and rope them in.

  She caught the fat girl, Angie, staring at her. When their eyes met, Angie beamed a smile. She was remembering how Fiona had stuck up for her in PE, and then helped her wash all that disgusting spittle out of her hair.

  Oh, goodness, she thinks we’re going to be zonking friends now. Fiona half smiled back, and then turned and pu
shed her way against the crowd, away from Angie. She could see the girl’s disappointment. Didn’t care. Come on, she thought, me and Moby Dick? Friends? That would definitely ruin her image.

  One of the teachers, Mr Yates, barred her way. ‘And where do you think you’re going, Duncan?’

  ‘Lavvy, sir.’ She said it boldly. After all, he was a man. He wouldn’t question a girl going to the toilet.

  However, she forgot one thing. He wasn’t a man. He was a teacher.

  ‘Assembly, Duncan!’ he commanded, pointing her back inside the hall.

  She turned reluctantly. And found herself face to face with Angie.

  ‘Hello Fiona,’ she said. ‘Did you forget something?’

  Fiona didn’t have time to comment. Mr Yates pushed them both on, together, as if they were meant to be together: friends.

  ‘Come on, girls, aren’t you dying to know who’s been picked for the school trip?’

  The atmosphere in the hall was tense. Fiona couldn’t understand why. Just for names to be announced for some zonking school trip? To a Scottish island of all places! Big wow! It would be freezing there, and boring. Walks in the wild, and camp songs around the fire! Whose idea of a school trip was that?

  Her gaze moved along the platform where the teachers had lined up, and came to rest on the PE teacher, Mr Marks. Of course, he was the man who climbed Munros for charity in his spare time. She had thought for a while that a Munro was one of the unruly pupils in the school, until she was told it was a mountain that had to be over a certain number of feet. Too much information, she thought. Who else would think of this as a great idea for a school trip? You would think, however, that he might look happier about his dream coming true. Then she remembered his slashed tyres. It seemed to Fiona as she watched him that he looked really angry now.

  ‘It would be lovely to be picked, wouldn’t it?’ Angie said, her voice full of enthusiasm. She was shaking her head with excitement and her shiny fair hair moved like something out of a shampoo ad. ‘Don’t suppose I stand a chance, just being new and everything. But I put my name down anyway. Maybe you’ll get picked, Fiona.’

  Fiona looked at her as if she was mad. ‘Me? On a school trip? Come on, Angie, one of the Famous Five I ain’t. I never put my name down for anything. So I’m safe.’

  Angie looked disappointed. Zonks! She really does think we’re friends.

  ‘Aw, I thought it would have been so much fun. You and I, together, like.’ Angie shrugged. ‘Oh well, I hope I don’t get picked now either.’

  Fiona almost screamed. She sent out a silent prayer. Not a thing she did very often. In fact, there was a good chance that God had forgotten who she was.

  Please. Let her get picked for one of these trips, she prayed. It’s the only way I’m going to get rid of her for a while.

  On the platform the headmaster called for quiet. No one listened to him for a moment. No change there. It took the Maths teacher, who was built like a wrestler, to calm them down. Finally, the headmaster got his chance to speak.

  ‘You all know why we’re here. There have been two school trips planned this year. One is going to Paris, a beautiful city of culture and legend.’ He went on about the beauties of Paris for about ten minutes. Shut up about Paris, Fiona wanted to shout at him. But he wittered on. Then, he called out the names of the twenty pupils who had been chosen for this trip. There were no surprises. The usual suspects had been picked. The good, well-behaved and favoured pupils in the school.

  There were whoops of delight, and moans of disappointment. Fiona hardly listened. She had just noticed that she had a broken nail. And she was dying for a fag.

  ‘I’d love to be going to Paris again,’ Angie said. ‘I love it.’

  ‘You’ve been there?’ Fiona asked her, though she was hardly interested.

  ‘At my last school. Turned out to be a bit of a disaster right enough.’

  ‘How? What happened?’

  But Angie didn’t have time to tell her. The headmaster called them all to attention again. The noise quelled. The shuffling stopped. He began calling out the names of those pupils who had been chosen for the island trip.

  ‘Zeshan Ahmed.’ The first name he called out. Fiona’s eyes found Zesh, looking pretty pleased with himself, but not surprised. He’d expected to go. Arrogant zonker, she thought. His equally arrogant mate, Rick, patted him on the back. She saw him cross his fingers in an exaggerated gesture, as if he needed to. His name would probably be the next one called out.

  But it wasn’t. There was a list of names mentioned, and Rick’s wasn’t one of them.

  ‘Angela Ward.’

  Angie jumped in the air, screamed, and came down with such a thud she almost went through the floor. She clung on to Fiona. Fiona tried to disentangle herself but Angie was too excited. ‘I’m going. I’ve been picked. I can’t believe it!’

  Fiona pulled at the fingers clinging round her neck. ‘You’re strangling me, Angie.’

  ‘Oh, sorry. I am just so excited.’

  Fiona took a step away from her, but Angie followed. Well, at least my prayers have been answered, Fiona thought, impressed by the speed of the response. She would have to pray more often, she decided.

  They had almost come to the end of the list, and still Rick’s name hadn’t been called. Zesh patted him as if to say, ‘Any moment now, pal.’

  But the next name that was called out made the whole school gasp.

  ‘Axel O’Rourke.’

  Even Axel looked surprised. Shocked. He looked around as if there might be another Axel O’Rourke here in the hall. Then his face clouded over.

  ‘Me? No way!’

  Fiona couldn’t hear him, but she saw the gesture he made. She could read his lips. Her eyes darted back to the platform. Mr Marks was watching him with his jaw set firm, and barely holding in his anger. Now she knew why he had looked so angry. He had known that Axel had been picked, and hadn’t liked it one bit. She couldn’t blame him. Axel O’Rourke on the school trip? The mind boggled. She was so engrossed in her thoughts and there was still such a murmuring in the hall that she almost didn’t hear the next name to be called.

  ‘Fiona Duncan.’

  Chapter 5

  We are being attacked. The submarine shudders with every explosion. I have never been so afraid. I do not like tight places and now I am going to die in a coffin of steel.

  We are all running, in every direction. Panic has set in. It is clear that we are going down, and I do not want to die this way. I must escape. At least in the water, I might be able to swim to safety, to land. Any land. I must escape.

  * * *

  Zesh still hadn’t come to terms with Axel’s name being called. Some mistake, he thought, someone’s idea of a joke. He was going to see someone about it. Protest. It wasn’t fair if Axel, of all people in the school, got to go on this trip.

  ‘Fiona Duncan?’ It was Rick’s incredulous voice, repeating the last name called, which brought Zesh back to what was happening. He looked across the hall to where an astounded Fiona was standing, her mouth open, as shocked as Rick was to hear her name called.

  ‘Fiona Duncan!’ she bawled at the top of her voice, pointing at herself dramatically. ‘This Fiona Duncan?’

  Always over the top, always loud, always in trouble. Why was she getting the chance to go? The idea she was going too appalled him. Another loser picked, Zesh thought, pushing out another, worthier pupil.

  ‘And those are the final choices for the two school trips this year. I know many of you are disappointed – but you will be the first choices for the next trip. You have my word on that. But for those of you who have been chosen, I hope you will appreciate and enjoy this wonderful opportunity to broaden your horizons, to widen your knowledge of the world. Who knows what people you will meet, what adventures you will have. This school trip could change your life.’

  Zesh hardly listened to the headmaster. He was looking at Rick. Rick, whose name hadn’t been called. Rick, who hadn’t bee
n chosen.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ Rick gasped.

  Zesh pulled at his jacket. ‘Neither do I. Come on, we’re not letting this go!’

  Mr Marks, his face grim – Zesh had never seen him look so grim – was striding towards them. He held out his hands in a gesture of anger. ‘Don’t even say it, boys. I have fought and argued this decision all morning. I’m afraid I was outvoted.’

  ‘But why, sir?’ Zesh couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice. ‘Axel O’Rourke. He didn’t even want to go.’

  Mr Marks shook his head. ‘I hate to say it, but I gave them the ammunition that lost me the battle.’ He laughed bitterly. ‘How often have I said, “Take a boy for a day in the mountains, and I will bring you back a man”.’

  What rot! Zesh thought. Axel O’Rourke? You’d only take him into the mountains to assassinate him and bring back his body. He bet that was what Mr Marks was thinking right this minute too.

  ‘So,’ the teacher said, ‘I’ve to make a man of Axel O’Rourke.’

  ‘First you’d have to make a human being of him, sir.’

  Mr Marks looked at Zesh as if he wanted to agree with him – but felt already he had said too much. He turned to Rick. ‘I really fought for you to go.’ He patted him on the back. ‘Next time, I promise.’

  Rick pulled away from his touch. ‘Next time nothing!’ And he hurried from the hall, ignoring Zesh’s shout after him.

  ‘We were looking forward to going together, sir. We’re best pals. We go everywhere together.’

  Mr Marks nodded. ‘I know, Zesh.’

  There was a sudden commotion from the other side of the hall. Two teachers were trying to control a struggling Axel.

  Mr Marks’s face clouded over. ‘He’s obviously overcome with the excitement of being picked,’ he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. Then he turned away from Zesh and hurried over to help the teachers.

  Zesh looked around for Rick, but he’d gone. He felt sick inside. He’d been looking forward to this trip so much. Now, he didn’t care if he went or not.

  Liam watched thoughtfully. Zesh was angry, but held in his anger. Typical. Never let himself go. Not really. Not until this morning with Axel. He hadn’t wanted to fight. Come to think of it, it wasn’t much of a fight. Axel had had the better of Zesh from the beginning. Maybe now that Liam knew about the inhaler, he could understand why. He came across as a cold fish, did Zesh. Above such things as fear, never scared. Even now, when his best friend had lost a place on the trip, he was still calm, still in control.