The Assassin Game (22 page)

Inspector Yates looks up at me, sweat on his brow. “Does this lad do drugs? Tell us, Cate.”

I shake my head slowly.

He turns back to Rick, and they make a few more halfhearted efforts to rouse him, but Rick's not interested. Right about now it looks to me like he's knocking on the Pearly Gates and annoying Saint Peter with a dirty joke.

Back here on earth, things are definitely not funny. Inspector Yates stands up, looks at his watch, and moves to Ezra's desk, picking up the phone. The younger policeman is trying not to sob.

Mr. Flynn sits back on his heels, finally, and leaves Rick alone. He looks up at me desperately.

“What did he take, Cate? What?”

“I don't know.”

But I do know what he took. He took my cupcake.

My body flushes cold.

Marcia.

Before they can stop me, I sprint out of the office.

I run to the dining room first, because it's nearest, and that's where Marcia was heading last time I saw her.

Rick said she had taken a bite or a piece had come off the top of the cake when she was icing it, and she had eaten it.

When I reach the dining room, only a few kids are still eating. I scan faces quickly. No Marcia. In fact, no Guild—except Daniel, eating in the corner on his own, scooping huge spoonfuls of something gooey into his mouth. He looks up and sees me and smiles sheepishly, midmouthful. My stomach flips, and I turn right around and head out of there.

I run down the corridor toward the door to the courtyard, and as I near it, I hear a shout.

“Cate! Come back!”

It's Mr. Flynn. I don't stop.

She won't be in her room. She'll be in the Loathsome Toad office, I bet. It's a more concealed getaway for me too. I cross the courtyard and dodge behind the large hedge, then make my way down the path that leads to the studios.

OK, she ate a small piece. She ate a crumb, that's what Rick said. She looked fine when I saw her, so whatever was in the cake, maybe it wasn't in the piece that she ate, or maybe it was in such small amounts that it won't harm her. I run faster, past the art studio and the photography studio, the kiln and the toilet block. Just a little farther down this path, and then I'll be there.

No lights on in the office. Hard to tell if there's anyone home, but I'm sure she'll be here. She almost always is.

I arrive, panting, at the door, and try to open it, and as I do, I see something in the corner of the room through the window. Marcia's legs on the floor, sticking out from behind a table.

“Marcia!” I twist the stiff doorknob, then push it with all my might. “Marcia!” I remember the trick, lift the doorknob up and push again, and I'm through, almost falling into the room not unlike poor Rick fell into Ezra's office. “Marcia!”

She's lying on the floor. Alex is half on top of her, as if trying to do mouth-to-mouth.

“My God! Is she OK?”

Alex looks around at me. Marcia sits up and looks too. Same guilty face on both of them.

“Oh,” I say. “Sorry for interrupting.”

“Cate, listen…” Marcia begins, getting to her feet. “I know this must look bad, and I know you probably hate me, but—”

“Are you all right?” I walk up to her. “Are you feeling OK?” I hold her face in my hands, looking at her eyes. Her pupils are dilated as hell, but it's hard to know if that's because she's been poisoned or because she's been smooching Alex.

“Am I feeling OK?” She moves my hands off her face but gently. “Of course!” She frowns. “Are you being sarcastic? Look, I never wanted you to see us like this, to find out this way, but—”

“Marcia”—I bite my lip—“shut up.”

“I know you must be upset with me—”

“I don't care!” I shout. “Not about him.” I fling out an arm in Alex's general direction. “Do whatever you want with him for all I care, goodness knows he's tried everyone else—”

“Cate…” Alex growls at me.

“You can shut up too!” I fling out a finger at him. “You're nothing to me and you never were, and that's pretty hard to take, isn't it, Alex? What is this anyway? Some kind of payback?”

“Cate!” Marcia says.

“Urgh!” I cry, turning back to Marcia. “It doesn't matter anyway. All I care about is are you feeling OK?” I hold Marcia's shoulders. “No dizziness? Nausea?”

“What?” Marcia is looking at me as if I'm totally crazy.

“You might have been poisoned!” I yell at her. And that shuts her up.

“No,” Marcia says, trembling a little, backing off.

Alex walks up to me. “What is going on, Cate?”

I stumble backward, searching for a chair and dragging it up to meet me before I sink into it. “The cake. The cake you made me, Marcia. It was spiked with something, something bad.”

Marcia shakes her head. “No! I didn't!”

“Not by you, by our rogue Killer,” I say. “By Skulk.”

“
Ay, ¡Dios mío!
”She looks at me concerned. “It made you sick? Are you OK now?”

I sigh, the tremors rising up in my body, all that has happened beginning to bubble and threatening to burst through me. “I didn't eat the cake.”

Alex speaks. “Who did?”

I don't look at him. A single, uncontrollable tear itches its way down my cheek.

“Who ate the cake, Cate?” Alex says again.

“I'm so sorry, Alex. I really am.” I turn to look at him. “Rick did. I think…I think he's dead.”

“Cate!”

Marcia sounds so shocked, but as I turn to her, I see her frown and realize it's because she thinks this is a sick joke I'm pulling to get back at Alex. I shake my head.

“It's true, Marcia. Dear God, I wish that it weren't, but I swear.” The tears start to flow freely now. “I saw the whole thing. He collapsed on the floor, right there in front of me, had some sort of spaced-out fit and threw up… The police and Mr. Flynn tried to help him, but then…he just stopped moving.” I start to sob.

“Where?” Alex hisses in my ear. “Where, Cate?”

“Ezra's office.”

He runs out of the room and the door slams and swings open again, the wind blowing a bunch of leaves in. Marcia hugs me, and the two of us cry, clinging to each other until the sobs run dry. I hear the distant siren of an ambulance through the open door. Time to move.

“Come on.” I detach myself gently from Marcia's arms and stand up, shakily. “I fled the scene. They'll be looking for me.”

Marcia nods. “I'll get my bag.”

“I'll wait.” I leave the studio and walk out into the cool air, letting it dry my tears and cool my face. The ambulance siren has stopped now, and I can hear nothing but the distant cries of seabirds. I'm not sure why they bothered with the siren anyway. It's not like there's any emergency if he's already dead.

I begin to walk slowly up the path away from the studio, breathing the sea air, seeing the colors of the leaves so vividly, shivering, but relishing every sensation, enjoying still being alive, and feeling bad that I'm enjoying it. I stop by the first tree and lean against it, shutting my eyes and resting my head against the rough, damp bark. I shove my hands in my pockets and feel a crinkle of paper there. It's the cupcake wrapper. I take it out carefully and unfold it, looking at the brown crumbs as if they're going to leap up and bite me. This is evidence. I should totally give it to the police.

I refold it, put it carefully back in my pocket, and wipe my fingers on my jeans.

I hear the slam of the studio door back down the path, and Marcia comes up behind me. She looks up at me with a pale face and big, scared eyes.

“We should hurry. I've just thrown up.”

She throws up again before we get to the courtyard, and as we struggle across the gravel toward Main House, she's shaking, my arm around her, holding her up. The ambulance has already gone—presumably with Rick inside it—but luckily there are still plenty of responsible people who rush to us as they realize something's up. Nobody will tell us anything about Rick. Another ambulance is called for Marcia, but by the time it arrives, Marcia's sweating and gibbering in Spanish and won't go in the ambulance. From what little I understand, it's because she thinks Rick's ghost is in there.

Eventually, they get her in, and they get gone. I stand in the courtyard and watch the ambulance zoom off, biting at my nails, and then remembering touching the cupcake wrapper and spitting frantically into a herbaceous border.

The police talk to me in Mrs. James's office. I tell them about the cupcakes. I'm quickly ferried off to the sick bay for observation. They wanted me to go to the mainland hospital with Marcia, but I told them I didn't eat anything. So they stick me down here to keep me away from everyone else.

The nurse produces oversized pajamas and makes me get into bed, which is entirely unnecessary. She smiles as she gently places a couple gossip magazines down on the bed for me to read. I have my tablet with me, and I try in vain to get on to Crypt. We're not too far from the science labs, and I can see the wireless show up on my settings page, but there's no consistent signal here. My mind is too buzzy to do anything; I can't even play Kreepy Klowns. I try to lie back and close my eyes, but every time I do, eternal gifs of Rick play in my head. Rick throwing his guts up; Rick convulsing; Rick suddenly still. In desperation, I pick up the mags and try and disappear into them.

After a while, there's a knock, and Mr. Flynn pokes his head around the door. “Hi, Cate. Can I come in?”

I nod, pulling the blankets up, even though I'm fully clothed underneath them.

“Any news about Marcia and Rick?”

“Happily, Marcia's fine.” He pulls up a chair and sits down. “They filled her full of activated charcoal and apparently she's sleeping it all off.”

“Good.” I breathe out heavily. “Thank God. And…Rick?”

“He was alive but unconscious when the ambulance left.” Flynn strokes his five o'clock shadow with one hand. “But only just. From what I've heard it's not looking terribly good, Cate.”

My throat feels tight. “Have they any idea what could have caused this?”

Flynn shakes his head. “Not yet. No doubt they'll run tests.”

I hug myself. “And your guess?”

“Cate, I have no idea.” He leans forward. “Look, this is the most ridiculous question after what you've been through, but how are you doing?”

“I'm fine,” I say. “Nothing wrong…physically.”

He puts a hand on my arm. “And the rest? That was the most terrible thing to witness, for all of us. But especially for you.”

I take a breath, cast my eyes around the room. Outside, it's beginning to get dark. “I'm OK. I…I think it might get worse later, when I…calm down. The shock almost protects you, doesn't it?” I look at him. “Does that make sense?”

“Absolute sense.” He rubs my arm. “You'll be OK. You know this place. In no time they'll have more therapists on the island than there are sheep.”

“We'll stay here?” I say, sitting up a little. “Won't they, shut down school or something?”

He holds his hands up in the air. “Who knows? It could absolutely happen. Even if Ezra and the police say it's OK to stay, you can bet that plenty of parents are going to pull their kids out as soon as word gets around. Ezra and Mrs. James are making a lot of calls.” He stands up and moves to the window. “All I know is nobody's going anywhere tonight. Tide is in and a storm is forecast, so that means no helicopters. We're all stuck here until first light tomorrow.”

“Nice.” I shiver under my blanket. “And everybody—all the kids—they know what happened now?”

“A version of.” Mr. Flynn moves back to the bed. “Ezra wanted to make an announcement en masse, but the police advised him to get the staff to do it in the classrooms. To avoid hysteria, I suppose.” He sits down. “If you were wondering why you haven't had any other visitors, everyone is confined to the library and classrooms at the moment. The police are searching studies and treating the common room as a crime scene. There was…something written on the kitchen table, in icing sugar.”

I blink. “
Killed.
”

He nods. “Everyone is being watched tonight. And that's a good thing.” He pauses a moment. “Cate, do you have any idea who could have done this?”

I shake my head.

“And the cake that Rick ate—that was supposed to be for you?”

“It had my name on it.”

There's a knock on the door, and the nurse comes in, a phone in hand.

“It's your parents,” she says.

“I'll go.” Mr. Flynn gets up. “Don't worry, Cate. There's a police officer outside in the waiting room. You'll be perfectly safe here. I'll try and get back before curfew.”

He pats my arm and gives me a smile, and the nurse hands me the phone. They both leave, and suddenly I'm listening to my mum having kittens down the phone and all the time I'm thinking,
That cake was for me
. I didn't think too much about it until Flynny mentioned it. Rick was poisoned, but I was the one who was supposed to die. The Killer wanted me dead, not him, and everybody knows it. I have a cop outside my door, for crap's sake.

I don't hear what my parents say. They just sound really cross. I'm not sure if it's aimed at me or Ezra or the police or Rick. I let them rant, make all the right noises at the right times, and then plead fatigue and hang up. At least they called. I wasn't that sure they would.

The nurse brings me food. I realize I haven't eaten all day and shovel it up, and she calls for seconds. While I'm waiting for it, I go to the window with my tablet, and to my joy, I find I can just pick up enough signal to get on to Crypt and see what's going down.

The feed is active, and the debate is on fire, posts and messages flying back and forth.

I_did_it

We have to stop the Game now. We have to tell the police about Crypt and about Skulk.

Grand Master

No. Do not say anything yet. Do you want to get expelled, have your life ruined by this? Just play it cool.

IceColdBlond

Alex, Rick might be dead. The time for games is over.

I_did_it

Don't you care?!

General Disarray

Of course he cares. Don't you dare say that. Rick is his friend. But he's right. We have to stay together, play this smart, otherwise we could all go down.

Grand Master

Thank you, General. And you're right. We have to be clever. Trust me. We'll catch this psycho. Now wait on my post.

CharlotteCorday

I can't believe this is happening. Poor Rick. I can't stop crying.

Grand Master