The Weight of Souls (8 page)

“Nothing’s ever right in this place.” I glowered at Pete. He didn't acknowledge me. “Look at them.”

“Yeah, I know.” Hannah shoved her bag higher on her shoulder and lowered her eyes. “Time to run the gauntlet.”

Together we headed past the tables opposite the lockers, the tables where Tamsin Harper and her hags held court.

I pulled my sleeves over my hands and half hunched my shoulders as we drew level, but no barbed comments flew after us.

At the stairs I looked back. “That was easy.” Hannah was right; something was off. I scanned the room.

The boys were lined up like they were at a club but James’ blond hair hung messy and unkempt and instead of his usual alert posture he was slouching with his muscles bulging unflatteringly. Harley, whose jackal laugh could usually be heard wherever you were, was silent and he had dark circles under his eyes. Even Pete’s shirt was already hanging out of his trousers.

Only Justin looked together, but he was watching Tamsin like he was on a diet and she was dessert. Normally they’d be all over each other but Tamsin was looking everywhere but at Justin.

So that was why we’d got past so easily, the “it” couple were having a fight.

I nudged Hannah as one of the girls said something to Tamsin under her breath and she ran to the toilet.

“What’s gone on there, d’you think?” Hannah cocked her head at the fleeing queen bee.

I shrugged but didn’t take my eyes off Justin. He watched his girlfriend go, but made no move towards her.

As usual he stood a little bit away from the other lads. Five years on and he still lightly wore that sense of exotic newness he’d arrived with on his first day. Adding to the sense of slight unreality that always surrounded him, his eyes now darted restlessly from student to student, never stopping in one place. As his gaze landed on me, they narrowed and I couldn’t resist giving him the
Loser
sign.

“Hey.” He straightened up as if I’d shoved him and I lifted my chin. I didn’t
really
want to get in a fight with the jerk, not again.

“Come on, Hannah.” I grabbed her elbow and steered her up the stairs.

Justin’s voice rose above the general clamour of the common room. “Get back here, Oh.”

“I don’t think so,” I muttered and stalked away.

“I know you heard me. Turn round.”

I grit my teeth. Only a few more steps and we’d be outside Mr Barnes’ office.
He won’t dare start anything there
.

Year eight girls clustered at the top of the stairs. I used my shoulder to barge our way through. They moved slowly, glowering at us, but weren’t far enough up the food chain to say much.

A gap opened ahead, but before I could dive into it, my bare right hand was caught from behind.

A shock both familiar and unutterably terrifying ran up my arm.

 

Suddenly the signs hit me: the strained hush, the policemen, Tamsin’s upset. It hadn’t been a fight that had prevented Tamsin from meeting her boyfriend’s eyes.

I dropped Hannah’s elbow and turned.

Justin’s hand was locked around mine. The cold flesh of his palm was flat against my own. The darting of his eyes – he’d been looking for a sign that someone saw him. Too late I recognised his flickering gaze as the confusion of the newly dead.

I swayed as his wintry touch continued sending spikes of ice up my arm and pulled away before the chill bit me to the bone. It was too late. I stared at my hand in sullen comprehension. Swirling on the palm like a smear of black ink was a Mark.

How dare he do this to me
?

As my brain struggled to get past the shock I stared into Justin’s dark eyes, those eyes that said he hadn’t yet come to terms with what had happened to him.

Great. Sometime over the weekend Justin Hargreaves was murdered… and now I have to avenge the idiot.
 

 

A younger boy was standing behind Justin.

He glared at me. “What’s your problem?”

“I'm not looking at you,” I snapped.

“Freak.” He stepped around me and I turned to Hannah. “You go ahead. I’ve left my homework in the locker.”

Hannah headed for the classroom, unaware that she was leaving me with the ghost of my worst enemy.

“
Outside
.” I spoke from the corner of my mouth, whirled and headed back down the stairs.

At the bottom I stopped. Mr Barnes was standing in the common area with two policemen at his back.

“We’ll speak to each class individually,” he was saying, “but just so you know, one of our students has disappeared. If anyone hears from Justin Hargreaves, please contact the police. If you know anything about what’s happened to him, if you aren’t comfortable talking to the police, come and speak to a teacher and we can do it for you.” He glanced back and one of the policemen nodded. He was holding his hat like a shield.

“You couldn’t have come out of your office five minutes ago?” I muttered.

Mr Barnes looked seriously at each group of students then shook his head sadly. “The bell’s about to go, you can start making your way to your classrooms.” He turned and left. I waited for a moment to make sure he was gone and then marched to the door.

Justin fell into step with me and I grit my teeth. Once in daylight, I hesitated.

“Where’re we going?” Justin’s voice in my ear left no impression on the air, no breath on my skin. Still I jerked back, not wanting to be in the same airspace.

I held my hand over my mouth. “Somewhere private so we can talk.”

“You don’t want to be seen talking to me? It can only improve your reputation.”

I whirled on him and one of the younger kids who took my bus stumbled over the step in his hurry to get away.

“Shut up if you aren’t going to help.”

He shrugged and gestured. “Bike sheds?”

I glanced contemptuously in the direction of his pointing hand. “Full of losers getting a smoke before class.”

My rucksack started to slide down my shoulder and I nudged it into a more comfortable position. As I did so I remembered my mobile. We weren’t supposed to use them, but if I stood at the bus stop people would probably leave me alone and I could talk to Justin without looking like a nutcase.

I set off towards the gates and pulled the phone free.

 

With the scratched bus shelter propping me up, I squinted into the reflection of the sun as it glared from a multi-storey office block. Rather than look at Justin, I lowered my gaze to watch the cars and taxis belch past.

A few late students were sprinting from the tube. As they passed, each looked at me curiously, wondering why I wasn’t running with them, trying to get into class before registration.

The number ten rounded the corner and I felt in my pocket for my pass. I hadn’t intended to bunk off school, but I couldn’t stay now.

As the bus pulled up I looked around. There was no one to stop me getting on.

The doors opened with a mechanical hiss. I gestured at Justin to follow and climbed on board.

As I swiped my Oyster card the driver glared disapproval. Almost too late I remembered the school speaking to the bus company about truancy. Quickly I groaned and clutched my stomach. With a shake of her head she waved me past.

The bus was practically empty, the work rush ended. Holding the phone to my ear I dropped onto the back seat. Justin sat in the seat behind.

“You’re skiving,” he muttered delightedly.

Hannah was going to kill me. She hated it when I left her alone at school. I glared out the window as the distinctive mix of architecture zipped by in jerks and starts. Finally I gave up and looked at Justin. He was slouched along his own seat, one arm draped over the back.

“So, what happened to you?”

He tensed. The humour left his eyes and he sat up. He knitted his lean fingers. “Would you believe I was starting to think no one could see me?” He stopped. “It’s stupid.”

“Why do you care what
I
think?”

He stayed quiet.

“So, what do you think now?”

He swallowed. “I… I don’t know. It’s some sort of trick, right? Everyone’s
pretending
not to see me and those policemen have to be in on it.” He thumped the seat and raised his voice. “This isn’t funny, guys.” He turned around. “I’m on YouTube, right?”

“You’re
dead
.”

He blinked. “You’re crazy.”

“Then why am I the only one who can see you?”

“You’re the only one not in on the joke. No offence, but it’s not like you’re part of the in-crowd, Oh.”

“Right… and Mr Barnes is?”

“Shut up.” He clenched his fists on his knees.

“You came with me. You’d never do that if you didn’t know I was your only hope.”

“Only hope for what?” He sneered, but his voice was hoarse.

“It’s your lucky day, Justin. I’m your only hope for vengeance and you can’t move on without it.”

 

9

 

YOU DON’T BELIEVE YOU’RE A GHOST?

 

“Right.” Justin regarded me from under raised eyebrows. “You’ll ‘avenge’ my ‘death’ so I can ‘move on’.” He used his fingers to create quotation marks. “You are in on it, aren’t you? This is your dare. See how far you can make Justin go? They don’t usually go all in like this, but I guess they have been spicing things up lately. Go on then, what do you have to get me to do?”

I exhaled noisily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dipwad. I don’t want you to do anything. Just tell me what happened.”

“What happened when?”

“When you died. Tell me who killed you.”

He crossed his arms. “You do what you have to, but I’m not going along with this.” He glowered around the bus. “C’mon you guys. Haven’t you had enough?” His voice had a quaver in it, so slight I could barely hear it.

Anger made me hiss. “How can you not believe this?” I pressed the heel of my hand against my forehead. The longer I carried the Mark, the more likely it was that the Darkness would come for me. I’d never had to deal with the newly dead before. I should be gentle with him…

My memory flashed up a scene. It was well-worn, but bright, like a silver locket often taken out of its box, rubbed and replaced.

 

“Dad! Are you alright?”

He looks like hell; his face so bruised and swollen that the only way I know it’s him is the wedding ring chained over his collar bone. It catches the light as he twists towards me. His arms are in bandages and he’s in plaster up to the waist.

He looks around anxiously. “Where’s your aunt?”

“She brought me in, I wanted to see you.”

He shakes his head and wheezes with the pain of movement. “I told her to keep you at home.”

My eyes fill with tears. He doesn’t want me here.

“She wanted to see Mum too, you know.”

He gives a little jerk, as if he wants to hold my hand, but he can't get to me. Suddenly the curtain around his bed twitches open. A nurse picks up his chart, checks it and gives me a smile.

“Here to see your dad, love? He looks scary at the moment, doesn’t he? Like a mummy. But he’s going to be alright.” As she says it, her eyes darken. “Do you have any sensation in your feet yet, Mr Oh?”

Dad shakes his head and beneath the swelling his jaw tightens. There is silence for a moment as she updates his chart.

“I’m just going to check your temperature and give you a dose of morphine.” She smiles down at me. “Your dad’s going to be a bit out of it for a while, love. Who are you here with?”

“My aunt.” I find that, nice as the nurse is, I can’t speak above a whisper. My whole body is prickling, as if something’s coming: a monster I can’t quite see. “She went to see how my mum’s doing. She’s still in s-surgery.” The word feels foreign on my tongue.

The nurse nods. “Let me go and find her for you.” She finishes taking Dad’s temperature just as the curtain moves behind her. I hold my breath and a doctor steps in. He looks exhausted.

“Have you given him morphine yet, Andi?”

The nurse’s smile freezes. “I was about to.” She hesitates with her hand in the air. “Will I need…?”

“Something stronger, a sedative, yes please.” The doctor comes to sit on the end of the bed. “And who’s this?”

“The daughter.” The nurse is pressing her lips together. They are white as her shoes.

“And she’s with…?”

“An aunt. I’ll send her in.”

Andi, the nurse, almost runs from the cubicle. I stare at the doctor. There’s a tiny speck of blood on the wrist of his gown. His eyes are bloodshot and he avoids looking at me. Dad is saying nothing. As soon as the nurse mentioned the sedative he went cold and still. It’s as if he thinks speaking will bring the monster into the room.

“Dad?” I touch his nose with my finger tip. It’s the only part of him that doesn’t look bruised.

His mouth stretches into a false smile; a rictus that fails to reassure and instead makes me shiver. “I hear your aunt.”

I turn. Dad’s ward is quiet but I can still hear a ringing telephone, running feet, a baby crying. Then my aunt’s voice. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t.”

I whip round and catch Dad’s expression; his features have collapsed like scaffolding. Then Auntie bursts into the room and throws her arms around me.

“We did everything we could…” the doctor begins.

 

He was kind. But hearing that Mum had died was the worst moment of my life. Wouldn’t finding out that it was you who had passed on be just as bad? Or worse?

I should be kind.

But it was
Justin Hargreaves
.

 

“You think this is all a big joke, right?” I wrapped my bare fingers around the rim of my chair. “Go on then, touch my seat.”

He blinked. “I’m sitting right here just fine.”