Page 32 of Outcast

“Sir?” I asked.

“Perhaps you should leave.” He leaned forward and furrowed his brows. “The staff can’t protect you, and the level of attacks against your person are escalating to unreasonable proportions. Think about your future. The last time, you came to me with eyes as red as tomatoes, and today, you were left to the elements.”

My mouth dropped open. What kind of teacherly advice was this?

Mr. Jenkins shook his head. “I fear you may not be able to endure whatever they do next.”

A boulder of dread made my entire body slump. Mr. Jenkins might have been an ineffective housemaster, but he had a point. Edward had promised to make things worse.

He raised his head. “Ah, there she is.”

Rita trudged out from behind the trees, her entire front covered in mud. Someone had obviously pushed her into a puddle. A lump formed in my throat. I’d been so concerned about myself and hadn’t even raised the alarm about my friend. Mrs. Jenkins rushed over, handed her a steaming mug, and guided her to the washroom. It was as if they knew their jobs were to clean up the triumvirate’s messes with cups of tea and gentle words.

“Will you excuse me?” Mr. Jenkins rose and trailed after his wife.

I clenched the arms of my chair and glowered across the campsite at the students crowding around the barbecue. Something had to be done about Charlotte and the triumvirate. They couldn’t be allowed to continue tormenting people. Before I left Mercia Academy, I would show them the pain of being vilified for no reason except that someone found their existence offensive.

Henry broke away from the crowd and strolled through the trees in the exact direction Rita had emerged. I shot out of my seat and followed after him, ready to demand answers. After passing through a small grove of oaks, I entered a clearing covered in leaf litter and acorns. Henry disappeared behind a clump of hazel and I quickened my pace, hoping to catch him with this pants down so he would be easier to intimidate.

When I rounded the coppice, it was to find two men in black had grabbed Henry’s arms and were marching him away.

I raised my arm and called out. “Hey—”

Something hard cracked against the back of my head, and everything went black.

Chapter 11

My entire skull throbbed so hard, the vibrations traveled down my brainstem. Forcing myself out of unconsciousness was like swimming through jello wearing lead boots. A boulder of grogginess and pain kept forcing me back down. I don’t know how long it continued, this cycle of struggling to wake then passing out again, or why, but every so often, I felt the surface beneath me rumble, as though I’d been laid out on a conveyor belt.

When I finally fought my way to the waking world and opened my eyes, Henry’s were glaring back at me from a distance of about a foot. I drew back, wrists duct taped together, and kicked out with bound legs. We were in some kind of confined space. The trunk of a large vehicle with the smallest of light bulbs providing scant illumination.

“What are you doing?” he hissed.

A wave of fatigue wrapped around my mind, slowing it to halt. “Trying to… get free.”

“You’ve gotten yourself kidnapped. Why?”

“What?” I blinked.

“Why did you have to follow me?” I’d never heard him speak so harshly.

“Kidnapped? What do you mean?” The words came out slow as molasses. My heavy eyelids pulled themselves shut, and I breathed hard to gather my strength. Being hit in the back of the head was brutal. This was probably a concussion.

If Henry explained what he meant, I didn’t hear it. Another bout of head throbbing took over and dragged me back to sleep.

“Hobson,” Henry hissed.

“Huh?” I yawned.

“Are you awake?”

“No.”

I don’t know how long this cycle of waking and immediately falling to sleep continued, but at some time, realization hit like a branch to the back of the head. Someone had abducted Henry, and because I’d witnessed it, they had taken me along. My heart jolted into action, pumping blood to my trembling limbs. The vehicle no longer rumbled beneath us. It was the smooth kind of vibration from driving along a trafficless road, like the freeway. The kidnappers were probably moving us to another location far out of reach of local search parties. Sweat broke out across my skin, and my breaths became shallow. Nobody would ever find us!

My eyes snapped open. “B-Bourneville?”

Henry sniffed. The dim light in the trunk darkened his blond hair and created harsh shadows across his face. “Now you’re awake. What the hell did you think you were doing last night, Hobson? You could have gotten yourself killed!”