The Dark Horde (13 page)

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Authors: Brewin

BOOK: The Dark Horde
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Danny gulped. The wheel had come full circle.

“Come on, Danny!” Margaret ordered. She stepped out of the car and opened his door.

Danny hesitated, “But–”

Harold turned to look at Danny. “Stop worrying Danny, you’ll be fine! On you go now with your mum. I’ll be in touch soon.”

It’s useless to fight. It’ll make no difference.

Danny sighed and hugged his dad from behind. “Bye, dad.”

Harold patted Danny’s head. “You’ll be fine, son.”

Danny took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. Margaret stood outside, scrutinising him as she chewed her lip.

Am I making the right decision for Danny? It’s too late now to reconsider, I guess, so I best be sure in my decision for Danny’s sake, lest it plant further doubt in his mind.

Margaret led Danny by the hand past a few dusty Holdens, Fords and Range Rovers, towards the side entrance to the Dining Hall. Clouds of flies and gnats circled in wait. Danny watched his destination loom ever nearer with terror.

Price, bored and seeking to cause mischief, ignored the plate of spaghetti marinara dished out to him, to instead pour pepper from a shaker onto the table. Grinning, he looked up at Alex sitting opposite him on the long table set out for the whole Unit.

Alex read the mirth on Price’s face. “Fuck off Price, you stupid geek!”

Derrick, a hairy lanky oaf with glasses, sat next to Price. He turned and spoke through mouthfuls of pasta. “Just eat your food, Christopher.”

Price quit his games, but swept the pepper on the table into a pile for later. He reached for a jug of water, when a baby octopus was launched from the other end of the table and landed on his plate. Laughter ensued. Price turned to see who the culprit was.

Robbo, a small cheeky freckle-faced kid, called to him. “Hey Price! I found your twin brother!”

Price scooped the octopus onto a spoon and glanced around to check that there were no teachers nearby. He turned to aim a return shot, balancing the loaded spoon under his finger like the catch on a catapult.

Didge yelled, “JESUS FUCK MY CHRIST, there’s Danny!” He pointed at the teacher’s table on the stage at the end of the hall.

Price paused to look, as did most of the table.

Danny stared at his feet and limply held his mother’s hand as she spoke to Mr Neilson and the principal Lucas Prescott with stern hand gestures. Danny made the mistake of glancing in H Unit’s direction, seeing only hostility when he did. Mr Neilson nodded and looked in their direction also. Danny began to wipe his eyes, a portrait of despondency.

Jokes began to circulate around the H Unit table and spread to the other tables. Only Derrick voiced any objections, but his comments were buried beneath a barrage of ridicule directed at Danny.

The mocking gallery watched Danny’s mother say something to him, before turning him by his shoulders to face the audience. With reluctance, Danny raised his head to stare into the eyes of damnation. The sight of his mother kissing him on the cheek before pushing him in the direction of the tables drew more laughter.

Slowly, Danny made his way over to the waiting H Unit table, like a lamb to a pack of wolves.

He sank further into despair when he saw that the only available chair was at the ‘elite’s’ end of the table, next to Robbo... And that to reach the free seat, he had to pass between Jamie Savage of his Unit and Anthony Sanders of G Unit. Both Jamie and Anthony were frightening prospects, especially Jamie who had twice been suspended for beating the crap out of someone. They both had their chairs back from the table, leaving a mere hand-width gap between them. As Danny approached, neither moved nor even acknowledged his presence. Around them lurked a mass of cruel smiling faces.

A feeble squeak, “E-E-Excuse me, Jamie.”

Jamie looked up with fierce brown eyes beneath eyebrows bunched with menace, corded muscles twitching along his jawline. But fortunately, Jamie glanced at the teacher’s table and saw that Mr Neilson was watching from his perch like a hawk. He turned back to Danny with a look to kill and moved his chair in enough to make an awkward pass possible.

“Th-Thanks, Jamie,” Danny mumbled as he squeezed past before Jamie changed his mind.

Danny reached his chair and attempted to pull it back from the table, only to find it was stuck. Amidst chuckling, he saw that Robbo had his leg wrapped around one of the chair legs. As Danny struggled, the chair suddenly came free and knocked into Damien who sat on the other side.

“Fuckin’ sit down, would ya!” Damien spat.

Robbo grinned.

Danny sat down before a plate overflowing with food scraps and used serviettes. The kids whose turn it was to serve meals this week – ‘Slush duty’, as it was dubbed – had already passed with the food trolley, so it seemed he was going hungry.

“Aren’t you going to eat what we saved for you?” Robbo jeered.

Then, in a surprising act of human kindness, Mr Neilson brought over a plate of pasta that one of the ‘Slushies’ had dished up. He gave the others at the table an ominous glare as he handed Danny his meal.

As soon as Mr Neilson was gone, Robbo turned to Danny. “If your mum said anything to him, you’re fucked!”

Danny tried to ignore Robbo and pour a glass of water. His hand trembled and he spilt some onto the table.

“Unco geek,” Bruce said, sitting across from Danny.

“You can clean up this end of the table after,” Mike chimed in, pointing to the seafood he spat onto the table.

There was no point in arguing. Nothing had a point anymore...

A bell rang to signal the end of dinner. At nine pm the dining hall would be full again for supper, but not before they had done their homework in their respective Units.

Each of the tables passed their plates to one end where one of the Slushies collected them, emptying scraps into their ‘Slush bucket’. Robbo grabbed Danny’s full plate of food and passed it up to the Slushies, but Danny didn’t seem to notice. Danny hadn’t even touched his food. Instead, he sat motionless, staring at the table.

Mike threw a cloth at Danny’s face, breaking his trance. “Start cleaning, slave!”

Danny lifted the cloth out of his lap where it had landed and began to wipe the table, oblivious to the goo that oozed over his fingers.

Whilst the rest of his Unit left, Danny remained behind to stack the chairs away. Head down to avoid eye contact, he didn’t see Derrick’s look of concern.

Danny dawdled down the hill towards H Unit, his prison. He thought he’d seen the last of the accursed place, but he was wrong. Now he was back and still had most of a full school year to go. That is if he was still around then... But even fantasising about his macabre death took more energy than he had right now.

Why bother trying to do anything at all?

By the time Danny reached H Unit, Mr Neilson was already there addressing the rest of the Unit assembled in the study. As he approached, Danny heard his name and immediately knew what the assembly was about. He again felt the compulsion to run, but now there was nowhere to run to. Even his parents had abandoned him.

He tried to sneak around to the Unit’s side entrance, next to the wood shed, but Mr Neilson spotted him and called him to the gathering.

Head bowed and silent, Danny obeyed.

“Danny. I’ve spoken to everyone here and told them that they’re to stop this childish bullying and leave you alone. I’ve also told them that if any of this silliness continues, that you’re to tell me and then,” he paused to look at the others, “there’ll be big trouble.”

Danny began to feel faint.

I don’t know how much longer I can remain standing.

Mr Neilson clapped his hands together. “Right. You’ve all been told now, so this nonsense can stop. Bullying is a terrible thing and completely unnecessary, so I don’t want to hear about it going on anymore. Alright, I’m sure you have plenty of homework you need to do, so I’ll leave you to get started.”

He turned and walked out.

As soon as he was gone, Robbo sneered at Danny. “Your mummy’s not going to save you now is she, you fuckin’ wimp!”

 

MONDAY 7:12
PM

Still no answer.

Mary hung up the phone, frowning in thought.

Where was her son, Henry? She’d tried to call him all weekend and today, but there was no answer. It was unlike him to be away from home for so long without telling her. I hope something hasn’t happened.

But maybe he had just been out with some of his friends from the Melbourne Poetical Society, or maybe he’d finally found himself a regular job or maybe he’d gone camping... But maybe he’d started sleepwalking again.

There was only one way to put her mind at rest and that was to go to his flat in Fitzroy North and see if he was there. Even if he wasn’t there, she might have more idea of what was going on.

She poured dry food into the cat’s bowl, checked that the house was in order and gathered her handbag and keys. As she moved to the front door, Winston meandered into the lounge meowing.

“I’ll be back soon, Winston,” she said as if the cat could understand.

She locked the front door as her husband Peter was away in Sydney at a sales conference and headed out to the car in the fading light. It was a short fifteen-minute drive from their suburban house in Ivanhoe to Henry’s two-bedroom flat.

She tried to dismiss visions of catastrophe from her mind...

Mary parked her sedan on the kerb of Rushall Crescent, out the front of the block of flats where Henry lived. Under streetlights, she looked to see if Henry’s car – a white 1972 Holden Torana – was parked there. Failing to spot his car, she took a deep breath.

She walked up the driveway, under a concrete staircase leading to the flats on the first floor and up to Henry’s door on the ground. She pulled open the security door that refused to close, which the landlord still hadn’t got around to fixing, and rapped on the wooden door.

She strained her ears for sounds, but only the blood pulsing through her veins punctuated the silence. The night breeze caressed her neck and cheeks with icy fingers.

She knocked again, this time more urgent. Her breath became short spurts, her knees weak. Standing became a struggle.

Still no answer.

Fumbling with her keys, she managed to find her copy of Henry’s front door key. Holding her breath, she plunged the key into the lock and turned...

The lounge beyond lay covered by a blanket of still darkness. Obscure shapes loomed from the shadows and the stench of stale cigarette smoke, incense and something rotten greeted her. She reached for the light switch to her immediate right and flicked it on...

Then she collapsed against the door.

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