The 13th Horseman Part 11

"Ah, but the best laid plans..." Dr Black said, leaving the rest of the sentence hanging. He began to drum his chicken-bone fingers slowly on the desktop. "The best laid plans."

The teacher stopped drumming his fingers and stared so intently that Drake feared he was looking right inside his head.

"You've taken life, though, haven't you?"

Drake was taken aback. "No," he said.

"Oh? Then perhaps your notes are mistaken. Frogs, I think they said. Didn't you burn a number of frogs to death? Wasn't that why they expelled you?"

"That was an accident!"

"A fact I'm sure the frogs were very grateful for," Dr Black continued. "As they were roasted alive."

"Look, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Drake asked, a little more aggressively than he had intended.

Dr Black rose slowly to his feet. "We are very alike, you and I," he said, advancing towards Drake's desk. "More alike, I think, than you realise."

"Uh, hi, Dr Black?"

Drake and the teacher both turned to find Mr Franks at the door. He was leaning into the room, a hand on each side of the doorframe. Dr Black's gums drew back into something like a snarl.

"Yes?" Dr Black said, his voice clipped. "What do you want?"

"I really need a word with Drake," Mr Franks said. "Mind if I steal him away?"

"I do indeed mind, Mr Franks. Mr Finn and I were in the middle of a conversation."

"Fine, sorry, of course. Please, carry on. I'll just wait here until you're done."

Dr Black's left eye twitched. He fixed Mr Franks with a fierce glare. When it was clear the younger teacher wasn't going to shy away, though, Dr Black turned back to Drake.

"We shall continue this another time," he glowered. "But if I catch you trespa.s.sing in my cla.s.sroom again, Mr Finn, there will be grave consequences. Grave consequences. Is that understood?"

Drake gave a brief nod as his reply. He got to his feet, pushed the chair back in under the desk and walked, as calmly as he could, over to Mr Franks.

"Thanks, Dr Black," Mr Franks said. He stepped aside to let Drake out. "It's really important that I talk to him."

Dr Black waved a dismissive hand. "I will catch up with him again soon," he said, then he turned to the window and cast his hawk-like gaze over the school grounds below.

"I don't believe I just did that," Mr Franks muttered, as he led Drake along the corridor, away from Dr Black's room.

"Um... did what? What did you want to see me for?"

"That's just it. Nothing," Mr Franks said. He glanced back along the corridor and wrung his hands together nervously. "I met your friend, Mel, and she told me Dr Black was giving you trouble for something you hadn't done, and that it wasn't fair, and... well, she convinced me to come and bail you out." He shook his head. "I can't believe she talked me into it."

"She can be pretty persuasive."

Mr Franks shook his head again. His expression was still anxious, but there was a smile in there somewhere now too.

They pushed through a set of swing doors and carried on along another corridor. The further away from Dr Black's room they got, the more Drake began to relax.

"So, what did he want to see you about?" Mr Franks asked.

"Oh, you know. This and that."

"This and that," Mr Franks said. "Right. And was this or that anything to do with you cutting school yesterday? You didn't make it back to my cla.s.s."

"What? Oh, no, that. I, uh, I remembered I had a doctor's appointment, that was all."

Mr Franks stopped. "Look, Drake, I don't say this often, and don't take offence, but cut the c.r.a.p, OK?"

Drake blinked. "Um... what?"

"You didn't have a doctor's appointment. You cut school." He held up his hands diplomatically. "Look, you're a good kid, I can see that, and I'm sure you wouldn't duck out of school without a very good reason. You had a good reason, right?"

"Yeah," Drake said. "I did."

"Fine, right, I knew you would, but listen, Drake, don't do it again, OK? We had three kids missing yesterday, and then the accident in the car park, and then you do a runner too. It could've turned into a very difficult situation for everyone. I'm not coming on all strict teacher or anything, I'm just saying. You need to think about the consequences of your actions."

"Sorry," Drake mumbled. And he meant it.

"Apology accepted," the teacher said. "But, you know, if you have problems at home or whatever, or you want to talk about... anything at all, come see me, OK?" He gave Drake a firm pat on the shoulder. "We new kids have got to stick together."

AFEW HOURS later, Drake waited by the gates, watching the rest of the school file past him. No one paid him any attention, not even Bingo, Dim and Spud, the three no-longer-missing bullies. He'd felt a stirring of panic when he'd spotted them approaching, but they'd marched past in single file, none of them so much as shooting a spotty-faced sneer in his direction.

It was ten minutes since the bell had rung. Most of the other kids had left, and now only a few stragglers pa.s.sed him on the way out of the gates. Drake looked up at the closest bit of the school building. The school was made up of two distinct parts. The bit at the back was a box-like construction of dull grey concrete, with evenly s.p.a.ced windows that looked in danger of falling out of their frames at any moment.

In front of that was a smaller, more modern-looking extension. The outside of it was clad in weather-beaten aluminium panels, and the windows had been arranged so that, if you squinted just the right way, they almost looked like a face: three storeys of gla.s.s along the bottom, and two much larger windows like eyes up above.

Drake watched the main doors. There was a sinking feeling in his chest. Maybe Mel had already left?

He was about to start walking, when she came striding out. She half walked, half skipped over to meet him.

"Hey," he said, as she fell into step beside him.

"Hey, Chief," she smiled. "You waited for me?"

"What? Oh, no, I was just..." He shrugged. There was no point trying to hide it. "Well, yeah. Kind of. I didn't see you at lunchtime. Just wanted to make sure you were OK."

"Yeah, I was looking for you too. Did Mr Franks bail you out?"

"He did. Thanks."

"Ah, I love new teachers. So eager to be liked," she said. "What did old Blackie want?"

"He just wanted to know why I didn't go and see him yesterday, like he'd asked."

"And what did you say?"

She turned to look at him, but found the s.p.a.ce beside her empty. Drake was standing in the middle of the pavement, several paces back. He was looking past her at the road ahead.

"You OK?"

Mel turned and followed his gaze. Further along the street, she saw a shed made of dark wood, with a jolly red roof.

"What's up?" Mel asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Can we not go this way?" Drake asked. "Is there another way to your house?"

"Lots of ways to my house," Mel said. "What's the matter, though? Is it that shed? Are you shed-o-phobic?"

"What? No."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of. Shed-o-phobia's really common. Probably."

"I'm not scared of the shed, I'd just rathera""

"Hey, look, there's someone inside," Mel said. She pointed to the door of the shed, which was now opening. A pale-faced man in a neat white suit stepped out and waved a rubber-gloved hand.

"Coo-ee! Drake!"

"Do you know that guy?" Mel asked.

Drake shook his head. "No."

"It's just that he's sort of shouting your name," Mel said. "And beckoning you over."

"He must have me mixed up with someone else," Drake said.

"Let's go and ask him," said Mel. She hooked her thumbs through the straps of her schoolbag and made her way towards the shed.

"No, wait, come back," Drake said weakly, but he knew he was wasting his breath. He had no choice but to go after her.

Pestilence was grinning from ear to ear by the time they reached the shed. "h.e.l.lo, Drake," he said. He turned to Mel. "And who do we have here?"

"Mel Monday," Mel said. She held out her hand. Pestilence looked at it nervously, as if it might explode at any moment.

"He doesn't really do the handshaking thing," Drake said. "Don't take it personally."

"Very wise," Mel said. "You don't know where I might have been."

Pestilence's eyes opened a little wider. "Exactly! Ooh, I like you," he said. "What did you say your name was?"

"Mel Monday."

Pest smiled warmly. "Monday's child is fair of face," he said. "Lovely to meet you, my name'sa""

"Bob," said Drake, more loudly than he had intended. Pest and Mel both turned to look at him. "Uncle Bob. He's my... He's my Uncle Bob. Isn't that right, Uncle Bob?"

"Will you hurry up?" growled a voice from inside the shed. "My back's about breaking here."

"Oh, sorry, sorry," said Pestilence. He spun a plastic arrow that was attached to a square of card in his other hand. "Left foot green."

"Left foot green? " War cried. "How in the name of G.o.d am I supposed toa"?"

Drake reached over and pulled the door closed, and the voice became m.u.f.fled. A moment later, a loud thud shook the wooden walls of the shed.

"What do you want, Uncle Bob?" Drake asked.

"We... thought you might like to go horse riding," Pest said. "We were going to do some practice, remember?"

This time, it was Mel's eyes that widened. "Horse riding?" she said. "Can I come?"

Pestilence suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Well, I suppose, it's not... I mean..." He opened the shed door. "One second," he said, then he stepped inside and closed the door.

Voices muttered beyond the door. A moment later, it was yanked open, revealing a bearded giant standing inside. "You," he said, stabbing a finger at Drake. "Get in. You," he said, stabbing the same finger at Mel. "Go home."

"Maybe you can come another time?" Drake suggested, before War caught him by the arm and dragged him into the shed. "See you tomorrow!" Drake managed to cry, and then the door slammed closed between them.

"Well, she seemed lovely," Pest said. "But Uncle Bob? I mean, really? Do I look like a Bob? Why not Uncle Jose? Or... or... Uncle Alejandro?"

"What do you think you're doing?" Drake demanded, glaring at War. "You can't just go dragging me in here any time you feel like it."

"And you can't go s.h.i.+rking your duties any time you feel like it. We let you go home last night on the understanding you met us after school. It's now after school, so we saved you the bother of coming to us."

Drake crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. For the first time since entering the shed, he spotted Famine. He was lying face down on a Twister mat, apparently unconscious.

"Right, fine," Drake scowled. "Where are we going?"

Pestilence slipped a slim remote control into his breast pocket. "We're already there," he said, and he opened the door.

Drake didn't recognise the field at first. It wasn't until he spotted the narrow river, and the bridge that the floating sphere had hidden behind, that he knew where he was.

"What are we doing here?" he asked, following War and Pestilence outside. Famine, for the moment, remained unconscious.

"Like I said, horse riding," Pest told him.

Drake swept his gaze across the field. "Won't we need horses for that?"

"We most certainly will. That's the first part of the lesson, actually."

"What do you mean?"

War stepped between them. He curved his middle finger and thumb into the shape of a letter C and stuck them in his mouth. A shrill whistle almost made Drake's eardrums burst.

"b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l," he cried, clamping his hands over his ears. "Tell me when you're going to do that, will you?"

Even through his hands, Drake heard the thunderclap. It rolled across the field, bending the gra.s.s and swirling the surface of the river. The force of it made Drake take a step backwards. Pestilence, who had clearly been expecting it, took shelter behind War.