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“Unlikely. They’ll have used a police boat. Maybe even a chopper.”
“Fuck!” My heart beats double time at the thought of not seeing her in the next ten minutes. It could be hours before they’ll let us see her if they get her to the station before we do.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Reef says calmly. How can he be calm at a time like this? “We know who she’s with and where they’re taking her. She’s safe for now.”
I think Reef is trying to be reassuring, but it sounds like bullshit to me.
“Bullshit,” Bhodi mutters. “You don’t know that. You didn’t see her face. She was petrified.”
“We’ll help her. Don’t worry. Just get to the ferry port,” the prof gives his orders so dispassionately, he could well be ordering takeout. I hate it. Doesn’t he care? Why isn’t he more panicked?
“I’m already on my way,” I pant, crashing through the main doors and bumbling into Bhodi. I’m surprised he waited. I cut the call as he turns to me.
“You good?”
I give a terse nod in response. “What’s the plan?” I spy one of the golf buggies which has been abandoned nearby. The battery might be dead, but if it’s not, it’ll get us there faster. “Try that?”
We make our way over to it. It’s better than nothing and will definitely be quicker than running, if it starts. I slide into the seat, drop the keys down from the sun visor, stick and turn the key in the ignition, and then take off. We can’t miss that ferry. If we do, it’ll be another three hours before we can get to her and that isnotan option.
Bhodi disconnects his call, tosses his phone on the seat and we take off as fast as the stupid buggy will let us. It’s not like the prof’s modified one, this one seems to be limited to a snail’s pace. Maybe we’d be better off running?
It feels like every idiot kid is out on campus, milling around and ignoring the fact that it’s a bloody road. The horn on this thing is pathetic, but I still blast it to get people to move out of the way. Angry shouts follow in our wake, but I don’t give a shit who I’ve upset. I need to get to Malia.
Once we’re off campus, we can go a little faster because the roads are clear, but when we get closer to the ferry port, it gets busy again. Bhodi growls in frustration, checking the time.
“We don’t have time for this. Leave it, we can run the rest of the way.”
I wholeheartedly agree and we ditch the buggy without a second glance, running towards the docks, dodging and weaving through the crowds of people waiting to get on the boat. Bhodi’s phone rings and he answers it without breaking stride.
“Yeah?” he asks, holding the phone up in front of his mouth. He must have it on speakerphone because I hear the prof’s reply.
“Get straight on the boat. We’ve got your tickets already. Reef and I are already on board. It’s leaving in two minutes though.”
“Got it.” He cuts the call and we move even faster, determined not to miss that ferry.
There’s a commotion somewhere close behind us and someone screams, but we don’t stop. We make it to the ferry with a minute to spare, panting and pointing on board as Bhodi tries to explain to the ticket collector that our tickets are on already on the boat, we just need access to grab them. He’s not having any of it though, and I swear Bhodi’s about to punch him when Reef appears, shows the ticket collector our passes and we get waved on, though not without him shooting us a dirty look first.
Reef leads us over to where the prof is sitting and we take seats opposite them. He gives us all of half a minute to catch our breath before turning his unwavering hard stare on Bhodi.
“Tell us everything.” I pant and try to slow my heart rate, while willing the boat to go faster as it leaves port and Bhodi launches into telling us how the police stormed into the lecture theatre and dragged Malia out of there.
I half listen while bouncing my leg up and down, stressing about Malia and playing sickening what if games in my head.What if they have taken her to the local station and we’ve wasted all this time? What if they weren’t really police? What if the Shikari attack en route? What if we get there too late?
All we can do now is wait.
It all happened so quickly. One minute I’m sitting in class wondering where the hell the professor is, and the next, police are storming into the lecture hall and dragging me out in front of everyone.
That wasn’t the worst part though.
Worse than everyone talking about me, whispering, speculating, accusing…and worse than those voices exploding in my head…was the look of abject terror on Bhodi’s face. Turning to him in my moment of need, looking for a rock, only to find all of my own fears staring back at me like I was looking in a mirror was a punch in the gut.
Thatwas the worst thing. The realisation that I’m alone. It shouldn’t come as surprise, it certainly shouldn’t upset me, but I guess I allowed myself to fall into the fantasy of finally belonging.
I don’t blame Bhodi; there was nothing he could do to stop them from taking me. And I guess the horror on his face should reassure me that I mean something to him. He looked terrifiedforme, not terrifiedofme.
As ifIcould be responsible for the disappearances and deaths on campus. It’s ludicrous.
But…I getonephone call. I’ve been here for hours – I don’t even know how many – shut in this sparse interview room and left alone. No one has spoken to me since I was brought in, and I have no idea what’s going on. As soon as the door closed and the lock sounded, I took a seat on the hard plastic chair and I’ve not moved since.
