Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own the people or places, though not for the want of trying. I couldn't raise the capital to buy them, you should've seen what Disney wanted for them!
Chapter nine: 'And the rivers ran red with blood'(Fulton)
I've never seen Dwayne look so bad. He burst into my room only a few minutes ago sweating and yelling something about madness and Adam...at first I wondered what this had to do with a cheesy, out of date pop band, but quickly realised what he really meant.
"Okay Dwayne," I say slowly. "Try again. What has Adam done?"
"He's...He's gone to fight Charlie!"
I'm momentarily stunned. Banksie? Fight someone? Have we shifted to a parallel universe?
"What do you mean?"
"I told him about me and Charlie and why Charlie beat me up...and he got mad. When I asked him what he was gonna do, he said 'stick up for myself at last', and Fulton...I think he really means it. But...he doesn't stand a chance." He finishes miserably, hanging his head. I reach out and grab his shoulder.
"We've got to leave him to it Dwayne." He looks astounded at my statement, but I shake my head. "It's a decision that he's come to...it must've taken him a lot of courage to even go near Charlie again. Give him a chance; let him do this one on his own. We've got to trust him." He seems indecisive, but the next moment he nods resolutely and relaxes.
"I can't go back to Charlie's room after Adam's been though. Charlie'll be in a stinking mood. He scares me when he's like that..."
"He scares me too cowboy." I mutter distractedly.
Dwayne frowns. "How come?"
"In the past few days I've seen him do things I never though possible of any self-respecting human being. He's attacked friends, denied deliberate injury and tortured a person too emotionally fragile to stand up for himself...I'm sure he could get a lot lower than that, but I don't want to push it..."
"Yeah...I never realised he would do things like that either..."
Poor Dwayne looks devastated. He must have really loved Conway at one point. I take pity on him, an action I'm doing more and more frequently, yet still so unused to.
"Why don't you stay here tonight? You can wait with me for Adam to turn up. Besides, we've got early practise tomorrow. Have you got your kit with you?"
"I left it in my locker in the changing rooms after yesterday...I couldn't afford to try and get back up to my room to put it away, I'd have been late for lessons."
"Yeah, I know what you mean. That biology teacher-"And so we get into a lengthy discussion about the various teachers, each of us unwilling to face the fact that it's been half an hour and still Adam hasn't turned up.
I jerk awake suddenly, a sharp ache in my neck making me groan tiredly. Peering at my clock I see that it's 5.20 am. I would've been getting up in another ten minutes anyway to get to practise. All at once, the memories of last night flood back into my mind and I sit up in my bed. I'm still wearing my clothes from last night and on the floor at my feet is Dwayne, in a deep sleep and snoring softly. Searching the room hastily with my eyes I feel my heart sink. No sign of Adam. Reaching over the side of my bed I give my friend a gentle shake to wake him. He yawns and stretches, then sits bolt upright, much like I did only moments before.
"Where is he? Is he here? How is he? What happened? Adam?" In any other situation I would've laughed, but the situation at hand isn't really one that allows for amusement, no matter how mild.
"Dwayne...he hasn't turned up. I don't know where he is. Surely he would've come back here last night?"
Dwayne's eyes widen in horror and I wish that I could've had good news for him.
"He's...not here?"
I shake my head, nearly in tears. What's happened to my friend?
"But-but" Stammers Dwayne, "he could've...stayed with someone else couldn 't he? What if he was hurt? He would've gone to the nearest room with Ducks in and stayed with them." He's eager to latch onto this explanation. I give him a reassuring smile.
"Yeah, that's probably what happened. Good thinking cowboy!" I suppose that could be the case...even though our room is the nearest one to Charlie's with Ducks in it...
I don't have the heart to tell Dwayne this. Instead, I get up and take a quick shower before pulling on some relatively clean clothes. Within ten minutes we're heading down towards the rink, me with my kit bag slung over one shoulder. We're going to be early, but neither of us cares. I suppose we're hoping Adam will be there early too.
By the time we reach the changing rooms, they're empty, as I thought, but not because we're early. There's a note posted on the outside of the locker room door:
Saturday practise time altered, 5.30 am prompt. Thanks, Orion.
"Great." I mutter. "Just what I needed this morning. Orion's gonna be furious. Why can't he post these under our doors or something? How did he expect us to see that?" I demand, hastily pulling my pads on and dragging my skates from my bag. Dwayne just shakes his head, too preoccupied in getting ready to answer properly. As I'm lacing up my skates, I turn curiously to Dwayne. "Do you think it's a bit quiet in there?"
He frowns. "I was just thinking that. Usually they're making a load of noise..." the same thought hits us both at the same time.
"Adam!" We exclaim, hurrying for the door leading onto the ice. As I stumble through to the rink half ready, I notice a deathly silence, but it's a few moments until I realise what else is missing.
"Hey...where's the team?" Beside me Dwayne points a shaking finger at the far end of the rink, where the Ducks are gathered, but it's no pep talk they're getting. They're all on their knees in a huge ring and they all seem to be supporting one player. "Oh no..." I groan and we leap onto the ice, speeding towards the team. They look up as they hear us approach and Guy rises, attempting to stop us. I just push him roughly aside, breaking into the centre of the group and skidding to my knees. Behind me, I hear Dwayne struggling against Portman, yelling something-I don't know what, my senses seem to have gone numb at the sight before me.
Lying across the ice, his head supported on Julie's lap is Adam. His skin is horribly pale and waxy and his lips are tinged blue. He's in his Ducks Jersey, but he doesn't have any skates on, or any of his other hockey gear for that matter. I suspect he hasn't changed since he returned last night. But what's wrong with him? Why does he look so terrible? He seems so small and defenceless without his pads on underneath his jersey.
"We found him like this." Whispers Julie, tears running down her pretty face. "He was just lying there when we skated in. We don't know how long he's been here...all night maybe...Orion's gone to get someone, but..." her head drops as her breath catches in her throat. I can feel tears warm on my face, but I still don't understand. Found him like what? I gaze wildly around and feel my heart freeze as solid as the rink I'm kneeling on. Adam, my friend, is lying in a small pool of blood. But it can't be his, surely? I let my eyes follow the trail and choke as I see the widening scarlet flower on Adam's jersey. A large rent in the fabric shows a gaping wound in his stomach, steadily leaking precious blood onto the Ducks symbol.
"Oh God, no." I gasp, pulling one of Adam's hands into my own. It's not as cold as I'd expect, but clammy. As I begin to chafe the limp fingers I see his eyes open slightly, translucent and silvery with pain. Swiftly I pull my own jersey over my head and push it to the gaping, bleeding rent. From the corner of my vision I see Dwayne fall to the ice, weeping uncontrollably, Portman still holding him, this time trying to comfort him whilst crying himself. I reach out and push back a drifting tendril of hair from Adam's eyes. I was always telling him to get a haircut..."It's okay Adam. We're here for you now. Just hang on, Orion's gone for help. We'll soon have you good as new." Somehow I've found a way to smile brightly and reassure my friend, even though everything inside me is screaming the opposite. Adam gives a small smile in return, but I can see sadness and resignation in his eyes. He knows. He knows what the rest of us are unwilling to face. "Just stay with us Adam, you're going to be fine." But he just shakes his head slightly, his grip on my hand tightening for a moment. "No Adam!" I say forcefully. "You're not going, I won't let you!" But in my heart I know he's already gone. His eyes slide shut for the last time and his fingers loosen around my hand. It's over. Over at last. And I know whose fault it is.
I turn to look at Charlie, my eyes streaming in my grief. All around the rest of the team are beginning to wail as the realisation of Adam's departure takes them over. Only Conway isn't weeping. He's got a slight smile on his face as he looks at me and he pats his pocket. Catching a dull glint I look closer and the see the rust-coloured edge of a flick knife gleaming under his hand. In that moment everything pieces itself together in my mind and I feel a chill at the thought of a murderer standing so calmly among us. But no one will ever catch him. The police will be here soon, but nobody will tell them who really did it. Because no one else knows except Dwayne and I. Charlie glances at Dwayne and back to me and I understand immediately. My silence has been bought.