Blind School (13 page)

‘What sort of ailment?’

‘It doesn't matter. Purely hypothetical. But
not
life threatening.’

   ‘And is this danger worse than the ailment?’

‘Yeah. As I say, the ailment's not serious or life-threatening. But the danger, if he's not protected from it,
is
.’

Carla looked down for a moment, pursed her lips. ‘Sort of a means to an end?’

‘Yeah, yeah. A means to an end.’ Ellis liked that term.

Carla took a swill of brandy and sunk into thought again.

‘Then while I wouldn't be happy about being lied to – in the end I think I'd look upon it as the lesser of two evils. And so I'd comfort myself with that.’

Ellis nodded slowly. ‘Yeah. The lesser of two evils...
lesser of two evils
.’ He rolled it round his tongue, wondering if that term too sat well with him, might salve his conscience.

SIXTEEN

The Scan Bus drifted steadily through the city street. Their third day with a full compliment of pupils on board the Scan Bus, Josh Eskovitz and another operator surveyed the screens while Ellis Kendell and Professor Mentinck fielded questions.

A boy near the front raised his hand. ‘All of us here in the class are teens, the oldest maybe twenty. Where are the older 'watchers' – or the younger?’

‘This ability to pick up demon auras develops when you're maybe twelve, approaching puberty,’ Ellis said. ‘Then fades when you're fully adult. So it appears somehow hormonal linked.’

‘Somewhat like children who have life regression recall,’ Mentinck added. ‘Normally it's gone by the time they're ten. Some of these things have a limited time span.’

Ryan and Jessica were halfway back. Ryan held a hand towards the group as he looked back at Mentinck.

‘And is this it – just us here?’

‘No,’ Ellis Kendell answered; internal stats were his department. ‘Between this and the other classes here, there are a hundred and eighty in this school. And while we’re the main hub, there’s another eight schools across the country. Worldwide, almost forty. Though all the –’

Ellis broke off as he picked up on a babble of excitement by the screens. Josh Eskovitz waved him over.

‘
Ellis
. Looks like we might have a big one!’

Ellis hustled over and looked at the screens. A fifteen year-old girl close by pointed to the screen where she'd picked up the apparition.

‘Here. This person –
here
!

Josh Eskovitz manipulated the controls and zoomed in on the figure. Purely a grey-green shade to himself and the other operator, but the
Blind
School
pupils could now also pick out the brighter purple-tinged demon swirling within it. Josh glanced up at Ellis.

‘Looks about four blocks away.’

   ‘Okay. Move in!’ Ellis lifted his voice so that the driver could hear him.

The bus lurched as it picked up speed, swinging into the next turn sharply. Josh did a final lock-in on screen so that they didn’t lose the figure, and they watched intently as the bus moved closer towards it.

Frank Lyle studied the bolts he’d just bought as he came out the hardware store. The last girl had banged and kicked the coffin lid so hard she’d managed to raise it a few inches. He couldn’t have that happening again.

They looked strong enough, should do the trick. He slipped the bolts back in their bag and got in his black van. He started up and pulled out.

Inside the Scan Bus, Josh leant forward, examining the shape closer to make sure.

‘They're on the move,’ he announced.

‘Which direction?’ Ellis pressed.

‘Uh... north-east. Away from us.’

Ellis looked frantically at the screen, then to the driver: ‘Let's move it! We don't want to lose them!’

A stronger lurch as the bus picked up speed, the pupils hanging on. It swung hard into the next turn, started to fishtail. Two oncoming cars swerved and beeped before the bus righted again.

Josh looked back at the screen. The figure seemed to be static again.

A block ahead, Lyle was caught in slow moving traffic, braking as the lights ahead changed to red. 

He switched on the radio. Started humming along to some country music playing. Then his face dropped as he saw the bus swinging round the corner behind him.

He looked frantically at the lights, tapping his fingers anxiously on the steering wheel. The bus was only sixty yards behind him now and fast closing in.

Finally the lights changed. He swung wildly round the car ahead, cut in front of another, and floored it.

Josh Eskovitz studied the movement of screen, picked out the vehicle.

‘Six vehicles down – One O'clock.’

Ellis moved down the bus and hung over the driver's shoulder, saw Lyle’s van accelerating fast through the traffic.

‘Something's lit a fire under him.’

Hot pursuit. The bus weaved and swerved through the busy street. But it didn't have the same manoeuvrability. It knocked the wing mirror off one car, clipped the wing of another.

Ellis peered ahead, trying to see the van's registration plate – but there were too many cars in between.

Lyle’s eyes darted frantically to his rear-view mirror. He swung hard into the next turn and accelerated out – didn't see the oncoming car until too late: he swung back, but the oncoming woman overcompensated, swerved too wildly. Her car tipped onto its side and careened into a lamppost.

Lyle looked at it briefly in his rear-view mirror: hood flying, steam and flames leaping out.

The bus swung into the same turn a hundred yards behind him. They lost the back end almost completely this time: it sideswiped two parked cars before correcting and accelerating.

Ellis looked with concern at the mayhem. ‘He's gaining on us. Keep on him.’

The driver grimaced. The limitations were clear to both of them as he swung the heavy bus through the traffic.

Horns blared, cars swerved out the way in between, some colliding. Ahead, Ellis watched Lyle's van swing into another turn.

Lyle frantically scanned for options in the fresh street. He needed to lose them, and it seemed that on the turns the bus had more trouble swinging round, lost pace. Left and right-hand turn just ahead. He decided on the right turn, swung into it.

The bus screeched into the same turn, its back-end swing narrowly missing another car. But they couldn't see the van ahead. Ellis and the driver's eyes frantically darted.

‘We’ve lost direct visual,’ Ellis shouted back at Josh Eskovitz.

Josh studied his screen intently, finally picked up the grey-green glow.  

‘Next right – heading west.’

The bus sped up again. But with the pause, they'd lost vital seconds; and as they approached the turn, an oncoming truck blasted its air-horn.

They were forced to wait, Ellis chewing anxiously at his lip as he watched it pass.

As the bus swung in, he could see that Lyle's van was already at the end of the street, making another turn off.

Ellis put a hand on the driver's shoulder.

‘It's okay. We're not going to catch them now. You did your best.’

The bus slowed and pulled into the side.

Josh looked round, his expression taut. ‘Strange how they put on a sudden spurt. Almost like they knew we were on to them.’

‘Yeah.’ Contemplative for a second, Ellis looked towards the pupils, still shell-shocked from the chase. ‘
Okay
. We know from the apparition's brightness that we're dealing with a level nine or ten demon. But can someone describe it to the sketch artist so we know which one?’

A few nods and murmurs of assent, but Jessica’s shock appeared to run deeper; she stared emptily ahead for a moment before answering.

At home that evening, Ryan tried to read the cooking instructions on a pizza box in the kitchen. But with the size of the print and his dark glasses, he was having trouble seeing clearly.

He lifted the glasses and was mumbling the instructions under his breath – when his mom walked in.

   ‘I thought the light hurt your eyes?’ she commented. Then, more hopefully: ‘Or maybe it's not as bad as this clinic you go to thinks?’

Ryan grimaced, put the glasses back on. ‘Trust me. If I kept them off any length of time, it'd start hurting.’ He squinted up. ‘Or maybe this fluorescent light isn't as harsh as sunlight.’

   ‘Maybe.’ Her gaze stayed on him for a moment.

Ryan now had his 'Goth' disguise – black spiky hair and an earring – so he wasn’t sure whether his mom's look was her adjusting to that, or one of doubt.

With a tight smile, she headed out.

His gaze lingered after her, hoping that he'd covered okay. Ellis had warned them to keep the glasses on at all times. He’d have to be more careful in future.

‘You're not going to go blind or anything?’ Tommy squinted at him.

   Ryan shook his head, smiled crookedly. ‘Don't you start with that shit.

Had enough with having to explain it ten times over to my parents.’

‘Sorry.’

They were in the schoolyard and stared absently ahead for a moment at a few people playing mitt-catch with a baseball.

Suddenly, Brad Milford and two of his pals, Stevie and Jed, were in front of them. They’d been distracted by the baseball, and
Milford
’s crew had approached from the other side.

‘Hey, hey... Rawl-ton-ton!’
Milton
greeted in a sing-song voice.

Tommy rolled his eyes. Shorter than average and tubby, if he had a cent for each time he’d heard that; the jibes were now well past their sell-by-date.

Milford
pushed a hand out. ‘Ready to buy that Sim card yet?’

   ‘Told you before – not interested.’ Tommy shrugged. ‘Probably stolen anyway.’

‘Well, whoopee-doo. He ain't just the fat dummy he looks.’

‘He's a fast learner,’ Jed chimed in.

‘But right now I think you might have a special interest in a Sim card.’
Milford
smiled, and his pals backed up with sly grins.

As the shoe dropped, Tommy stood up and checked his cell-phone: it didn't work. Its Sim card has gone.

‘You puta's ass-wipe!’

Milford
’s smile as quickly disappeared. He moved in, yanked Tommy up by his T-shirt.

‘Enough with the barrio jibe. Just splash the fuckin' cash.’