Agent Matt: Academy of Shadows
Chapter 12: Shadow Locks
At the end of his first week at Ombre Académie, Matt drew up a list of the six boys with whom he shared the school. It was mid afternoon, and he was alone in his room. A notepad was open in front of him. It had taken him about half an hour to put together the names and the few details that he had. He only wished he had more.
JACCO VAN DIJK (15) Dutch. Lives in Amsterdam. Brown hair, green eyes. Father's name, Olaf. Owns diamond mines. Speaks little English. Reads and plays guitar. Very solitary. Sent to OA for major shoplifting and arson.
AIDAN BOUCHARD (15) Canadian. From Vancouver. Parents divorced. Mother runs Media Empire (newspapers, TV). Reddish hair, blue eyes. Well built, chess player. Car thefts and drunken driving ... sent to OA.
KEVIN LEVICH (15) French ... from Bordeaux? Expelled from private school in Paris, cause unknown. Drugs? Brown hair, brown eyes, very fit all around. Tattoo of two vipers around a skull on left shoulder. Good at sports. Father = Anthony levich. Airlines, pop music, hotels. Never mentions his mother.
JAMES RUSSELL (15) American Fair hair, brown eyes. Mother = Joan ... studio chief in Hollywood. Parents divorced. Writes poetry, plays jazz piano. Expelled from six schools. Various drugs offenses. Sent to OA after smuggling arrest. Tells jokes. Seems popular.
JOHN KENT (15) American. Spends much of his time with James. Brown hair, blue eyes. Mother (name unknown) New York senator. Father something major at the Pentagon. Vandalism, truancy, shoplifting. Claims to have own motorbike and three girlfriends (!) in Los Angeles.
JAMIE SPURTZ (15) German. Father = Alec Spurtz, banker, well-known financier (the hundred-million dollar man). Mother living in England. Brown hair, dark blue eyes, pale. Lives in Munich. Expelled for wounding a teacher with an air pistol. Closest I've got to a friend at OA- the only one who really hates it here.
Lying on his bed, Matt studied the list. What did it tell him? Not a great deal.
First, all the boys were the same age: fifteen, the same age as him. At least three of them,
Possibly four, had parents who were either divorced or separated. They all came from hugely wealthy backgrounds. Ooishi had already told him that was the case, but Matt was surprised by just how diverse the parents were. Airlines, diamonds, politics, and movies. They came from different parts of the world. France, Holland, Canada, and America. Each one of them was at the top of his or her field, and those fields covered just about every human activity. He himself was supposed to be the son of a United Nations Member. Suggesting ideas to other countries governments. At least two of the boys had been arrested for shoplifting. Two had been involved with drugs. But Matt knew that the list somehow hid more than it revealed. With the exception of Jamie, it was hard to pin down what made the boys at Ombre Académie different. In a strange way, they all looked the same. Their eyes and hair were different colours. They wore different clothes. All the faces were different: Jacco handsome and confident, John quiet and watchful. And of course they spoke not only with different voices but also in several languages.
Jamie had talked about brains being sucked out with straws, and he had a point. It was as if the same consciousness had somehow invaded them all. They had become puppets, dancing on the same string and Dr Sorrow was the puppeteer. The bell rang downstairs. Matt looked at his watch. It was exactly one o'clock lunch time. That was another thing about the school. Everything was done to the exact minute. Lessons from nine until twelve. Lunch from one to two. And so on. Jamie made a point of being late for everything, and Matt had taken to joining him. It was a tiny rebellion but a satisfying one. It showed they still had a little control over their own lives. The other boys, of course, turned up like clockwork. They would be in the dining room now, waiting quietly for the food to be served. Matt rolled over on the bed and reached for a pen. He wrote a single word on the pad, underneath the names.
BRAINWASHED?
Maybe that was the answer. According to Jamie, the other boys had arrived at the academy two months before him. He had been there for just three weeks. That added up to just eleven weeks in total, and Matt knew that you didn't take a bunch of delinquents and turn them into perfect students just by giving them good books. Dr. Sorrow had to be doing something else. Drugs. Hypnosis. Something.
He waited five more minutes, then hid the notepad under his mattress and left the room. He wished he could lock the door. There was no privacy at Ombre Académie. Even the bathrooms had no locks. And Matt still couldn't shake off the feeling that everything he did, even everything he thought, was somehow being monitored, noted down. Evidence to be used against him. And then the conversation between him and Mion came up, why was that still bothering him. It was ten past one when he reached the dining room, and sure enough, the other boys were already there, eating their lunch and talking quietly among themselves. Kevin and James were at one table. Jacco, Aidan, and John were at another. Nobody was flicking peas. Nobody even had their elbows on the table. Aidan was talking about a visit he had made to some museum in Grenoble. Matt had been in the room only a few seconds, but already his appetite had gone. Jamie had arrived just ahead of him and was standing at one of the windows into the kitchen, helping himself to food. Most of the food arrived precooked, and one of the guards heated it up. Today it was stew. Matt got his lunch and sat next to Jamie. The two of them had their own table. They had become friends quite effortlessly. Everyone else ignored them.
"You want to go out after lunch?" Jamie asked.
"Sure. Why not?"
"There's something I want to talk to you about." Matt looked past Jamie at the other boys. There was Aidan, at the head of the table, reaching out for a pitcher of water. He was dressed in a polo shirt and jeans. Next to him was John Kent. He was talking to Jacco now, waving a finger to emphasize a point. Where had Matt seen that movement? Before Russell was just behind them round faced, with fine, light brown hair, laughing at a joke. Different but the same. Watching them closely, Matt tried to figure out what he meant. It was all in the details, the things you wouldn't notice unless you saw them all together, like they were now. The way they were all sitting with their backs straight and their elbows close to their sides. The way they held their knives and forks. Jacco laughed, and Matt realized that for a moment he had become a mirror image of Russell. It was the same laugh. He watched John eat a mouthful of food. Then he watched Kevin. They were two different boys. There was no doubting that. But they ate in the same way, as if mimicking each other. There was a movement at the door, and suddenly Mrs. Stenavich appeared.
"Good afternoon, boys," she said.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Stenavich." Five people answered, but Matt heard only one voice. He and Jamie had remained silent.
"Lessons this afternoon will begin at three o'clock. The subjects will be Latin and French." The lessons were taught by Dr. Sorrow or Mrs. Stenavich. There were no other teachers at the school. Matt hadn't yet been taught anything. Jamie dipped in and out of class, depending on his mood. "There will be a discussion this evening in the library," Mrs. Stenavich went on. "The subject is violence in television and film. Aidan, you will open the debate. Afterward, there will be hot chocolate, and Dr. Sorrow will give a lecture on the works of Mozart. Everyone is welcome to attend." Jamie jabbed a finger into his open mouth and stuck out his tongue, pretending to throw up at the mere thought of tonight. Matt smiled. The other boys were listening quietly. "Dr. Sorrow would also like to congratulate James Russell on winning the poetry competition. His poem is pinned to the bulletin board in the main hall. That is all."
She turned and left the room. Jamie rolled his eyes. As matt stood up John called over to matt.
"Will you be joining us for Latin after lunch, Matt?"
"Get Bent!" Matt replied. The boys chuckled lightly.
"What's the matter, Latin too advanced for you?" he mocked, matt was trying to keep his anger under control he knew what these boys were capable of. The proof was Jamie's face. The boys chortled amongst themselves. "Perhaps learning your time tables then, that should be almost changeling for you." The boys laughed as one, five voices, one laugh. Just then, Matt lost it. He slammed his fist down on the table and yelled at him.
"I thought you were supposed to be a Hardcore Rebel, Kent. But look at you, sucking up to a pathetic old man!" The other boy's faces scowled at him but it was Kent that yelled.
"Don't you talk about the doctor like that! He's a genius!" all of them stood up and the situation was escalating into a big fight, matt wasn't afraid to take down these posers. Just then Jamie placed a hand on matt's shoulder and said.
"Let's go out and get some fresh air, I'm feeling sick." The two of them went upstairs and put on their coats. Jamie had the room next door to Matt and had done his best to make it homier. There were posters of old sci-fi movies on the wall and a mobile with the solar system dangling above the bed. A lava lamp bubbled and swirled on the bedside table, casting an orange glow. There were clothes everywhere. Jamie obviously didn't believe in hanging them up. Somehow he managed to find a scarf and a single glove. He shoved one hand into a pocket. "Let's go," he said. They went back down and along the corridor, passing the games room. Kevin and John were playing table tennis, and Matt stopped at the door to watch them. The ball was bouncing back and forth, and Matt found himself mesmerized. He stood there for about sixty seconds, watching. Kerplink, kerplunk, Kerplink, kerplunk-neither of the boys was scoring. There it was again. Different but the same.
Obviously, there were two boys there. But the way they played, the style of their game, was identical. If it had been one boy knocking a ball against a mirror, the result would have looked much the same. Matt shivered. Jamie was standing at his shoulder. The two of them moved away. Jacco was sitting in the library. The boy who had been sent to Ombre Académie for shoplifting was reading a Dutch edition of National Geographic magazine. They reached the hall, and there was Russell's poem, prominently pinned to the bulletin board. He had been sent to Ombre Académie for smuggling drugs. Now he was writing about daffodils. Matt pushed open the main door and felt the cold wind hit his face. He was grateful for it. He needed to be reminded that there was a real world outside this bizarre goldfish bowl. It had begun to snow again. The two boys walked slowly around the building. A couple of guards walked toward them, speaking softly in German. Matt had counted thirty guards at Ombre Académie, all of them young German men, dressed in uniform black roll-neck sweaters and black vests. The guards never spoke to the boys. They had the pale, unhealthy faces and close-cropped hair he would have expected. Dr. Sorrow had said they were there for his protection, but Matt still wondered. Were they here to keep intruders out, or the boys in?
"This way," Jamie said. Jamie walked ahead, his feet sinking into the thick snow. Matt followed, looking back at the windows on the third and fourth floors. It was maddening. A whole half of the castle perhaps more-was closed off to him, and he still couldn't think of a way of getting up to it. He couldn't climb. The brickwork was too smooth and there was no convenient ivy to provide handholds. The drainpipes looked too fragile to take his weight.
Something moved. Matt stopped in his tracks.
"What is it?" Jamie asked.
"There!" Matt pointed at the third floor. He thought he'd seen a figure, watching them from behind the window directly above his room. It was there for only a moment. The face seemed to be masked. A white mask with a narrow slit for the eyes. But even as he pointed, the figure stepped back, out of sight.
"I don't see anything," Jamie said.
"It's gone."
"What was?" Matt sighed.
"Nothing. Probably just the snow getting into my eyes." They walked on, heading for the abandoned ski jump. According to Jamie, the jump had been built just before Sorrow had bought the academy. There had been plans to turn the building into a winter sports training centre. The jump had never been used. They reached the wooden barriers that lay across the entrance and stopped.
"Let me ask you something," Jamie said. His breath was misting in the cold air. "What do you think of this place?"
"Why do we have to talk out here?" Matt asked. Despite his coat, he was beginning to shiver.
"Because when I'm inside the building, I get the feeling that someone is listening to every word I say." Matt nodded.
"I know what you mean." He considered the question Jamie had put to him. "I think you were right the first day we met," he said. "This place is creepy."
"So how would you feel about getting out of here?"
"You know how to fly the helicopter?"
"No. But I'm going." Jamie paused and looked around. The two guards had gone into the school. There was nobody else in sight. "I can trust you, Matt, because you've just gotten here. He hasn't gotten to you yet." Dr. Sorrow. Jamie didn't need to say the name. "But believe me," he went on, "it won't be long. If you stay here, you're going to end up like the others. Model students. That's exactly the word for them. It's like they're all made out of plastic. Well, I've had enough. I'm not going to let him do that to me.'"
"Are you going to run away?" Matt asked.
"Who needs to run?" Jamie looked down the slope. "I'm going to ski." Matt looked at the slope. It plunged steeply down, stretching on forever.
"Is that possible?" he asked. "I thought-"
"I know Sorrow says it's too dangerous. But he would, wouldn't he? It's true that it's expert black runs all the way down, and there's bound to be tons of moguls . . .'"
"Won't the snow have melted?"
"Only further down." Jamie pointed. "I've been right down to the bottom," he said. "I did it the first week I was here. All the slopes run into a single valley. It's called La Vallee de Fa. You can't actually make it as far as the town because there's a train track that cuts across. But if I can get to the track, I reckon I can walk the rest of the way."
"And then?"
"A train back to Munich. If my dad tries to send me back here, I'll go to my mom in England. If she doesn't want me, I'll disappear. I've got friends in Paris and Berlin. I might even go to your home town. I don't care. All I know is, I've got to make like a banana and split, and if you know what's good for you, you'll come too." Matt considered. He was almost tempted to join the other boy, if only to help him on his way. But he had a job to do.
"I don't have any skis," he said.
"Nor do I." Jamie spat into the snow. "Sorrow took all the skis when the season ended. He's got them locked up somewhere."
"On the third floor?"
"Maybe. But I'll find them. And then I'm out of here." He reached out to Matt with his ungloved hand. "Come with me." Matt shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Jamie. You go, and good luck to you. But I'll stick it out a bit longer. I don't want to break my neck."
"Okay. That's your choice. I'll send you a postcard." The two of them walked back toward the school. Matt gestured at the window where he had seen the masked face.
"Have you ever wondered what goes on up there?" he asked.
"No." Jamie shrugged. "I suppose that's where the guards live."
"Two whole floors?"
"There's a basement as well. And Dr. Sorrow's rooms. Do you think he sleeps with Miss Stinkawitch?" Jamie made a face. "Can you imagine that, Count Dracula and the Blob sleeping together?" Matt laughed.
"Dude, that is gross!" Jamie laughed as well and just like that he went from laughing to serious in an instant, just like Mion. "Well, I'm going to find my skis and get out of here, Matt. And if you've got any sense, you'll come too."
It was night when Matt and Jamie were skiing together down the slope, the blades cutting smoothly through the surface snow. It was a perfect night-everything frozen and still. They had left the academy behind them. But then Matt saw the figure ahead of them. Dr. Sorrow was there. He was standing motionless, wearing his dark suit, his eyes hidden by his round wire glasses. Matt veered away from him. He had lost control. He was moving faster and faster down the slope, his poles flailing at the air, his skis refusing to turn. He could see the ski jump ahead of him. Someone had removed the barriers. He felt his skis leave the snow and shoot forward onto solid ice. And then it was a screaming drop down, tearing ever farther into the night, knowing there was no way back. Dr. Sorrow laughed, and at the same moment there was a click and Matt was shot into space, spinning a mile above the ground and then falling, falling, falling ...
He woke up.
He was lying in bed, the moonlight spilling onto his covers. He looked at his watch. A quarter past two. He played back the dream he had just had. Trying to escape with Jamie. Dr. Sorrow waiting for them. He had to admit, the academy was beginning to get to him. He didn't usually have bad dreams. But the school and the people in it were slipping under his skin, working their way into his mind. He thought about what he had heard. Dr. Sorrow laughing and something else ... a clicking sound. That was strange. What had gone click? Had it actually been part of the dream? Suddenly, Matt was completely awake. He got out of bed, went to the door, and turned the handle. He was right. He hadn't imagined the sound. While he was asleep, the door had been locked from the outside. Something had to be happening-and Matt was determined to see what it was. He got dressed as quickly as possible, then knelt down and examined the lock. He could make out two bolts, at least a half inch in diameter, one at the top and one at the bottom. They must have been activated automatically. One thing was sure: he wasn't going to get out through the door. That left the window. All the bedroom windows were fastened with a steel rod that allowed them to open ten inches but no more. Matt picked up his CD player, put in the Mozart CD, and turned it on. The CD spun around moving at a fantastic speed-then slowly edged forward, still spinning, until it protruded out of the casing.
Matt pressed the edge of the CD against the steel rod. It took just a few seconds. The CD cut through the steel like scissors through paper. The rod fell away, allowing the window to swing fully open. It was still snowing. Matt turned the CD player off and threw it back on his bed. Then he put on some sweats and his coat and climbed out the window. He was two floors up. Normally a fall from that height would have broken an ankle or a leg. But it had been snowing for the better part of ten hours, and a white bank had built up against the wall right beneath him. Matt lowered himself as far as he could, then let go. He fell through the air and hit the snow, disappearing as far as his waist. He felt his feet strike the hard under soil, but the bank had protected him. He was cold and damp before he had even started. But he was unhurt. He climbed out of the snow and began to move around the side of the building, making for the front. He would just have to hope that the main entrance wasn't locked too. But somehow he was sure it wouldn't be. His door had been locked automatically. Presumably a switch had been thrown and all the others had been locked too. Most of the boys would be asleep. Even the ones who were awake wouldn't be going anywhere, leaving Dr. Sorrow free to do whatever he wanted, coming and going as he pleased.
Matt had just made it to the side of the building when he heard the guards approach, boots crunching. There was nowhere to hide, so he threw himself facedown onto the snow, hugging the shadows. There were two guards. He could hear them talking softly in German, but he didn't dare look up. If he made any movement, they would see him. If they came too close, they would probably see him anyway. He held his breath, his heart pounding. The guards walked past and rounded the corner. Their path would take them under his room. Would they see the open window? Matt had left the light off. With luck, there would be no reason for them to look up. But he was still aware that he might not have much time. He had to move now. He lifted himself up and ran forward. His clothes were covered in snow, and more flakes were falling, drifting into his eyes. It was the coldest part of the night, and Matt was shivering by the time he reached the main door. What would he do if it was locked after all? He certainly wouldn't be able to stay out in the open until morning. But the door was unlocked.
Matt pushed it open and slipped into the warmth and darkness of the main hall. The dragon fireplace was in front of him. There had been a fire earlier in the evening, and the burned-out logs were still smouldering in the hearth. Matt held his hands against the glow, trying to draw a little warmth into himself. Everything was silent. The empty corridors stretched into the distance, illuminated by a few low-watt bulbs that had been left on at intervals. Only now did it occur to Matt that he could have been mistaken from the start. Perhaps the doors were locked every night as part of the security. Perhaps he had jumped too quickly to the wrong conclusion and there was nothing going on at all.
"No!" It was a boy's voice-a long, quavering shout that echoed through the school. A moment later, Matt heard feet stamping along a wooden corridor somewhere above. He looked for somewhere to hide and found it inside the fireplace, right next to the logs. The actual fire was contained in a metal basket, and there was a wide space on each side between the basket and the brickwork. Matt crouched low, feeling the heat on the side of his face and legs. He looked out, past the two dragons, waiting to see what would happen. Three people were coming down the stairs. Mrs. Stenavich was the first. She was followed by two of the guards, dragging something between them. It was a boy! He was facedown, dressed only in his pyjamas, his bare feet sliding down the stone steps. Mrs. Stenavich opened the library door and went in. The two guards followed. The door crashed shut. The silence returned. It had all happened very quickly. Matt had been unable to see the boy's face. But he was sure he knew who it was. He had known just from the sound of his voice. Jamie Spurtz. Matt eased himself out of the fireplace and crossed the hall, making for the library door. There was no sound coming from the other side.
He knelt down and looked through the keyhole. No lights were on inside the room. He could see nothing. What should he do? If he went back upstairs, he could make it back to his room without being seen. He could wait until the doors were unlocked and then slip into bed. Nobody would know he had been out. But the only person in the school who had shown him any kindness was on the other side of the library door. He had been dragged down here. Perhaps he was being brainwashed ... beaten, even. Matt couldn't just turn around and leave him. Matt had made his decision. He threw open the door and walked in.
The library was empty.
He stood in the doorway, blinking. The library had only one door. All the windows were closed. There were no lights on and no sign that anyone had been there. The suit of armour stood in its alcove at the end, watching him as he moved forward. Could he have been mistaken? Could Mrs. Stenavich and the guards have gone into a different room?
Matt went over to the alcove and looked behind the armour, wondering if there might be a second exit concealed there. There was nothing. He tapped a knuckle against the wall. Curiously, it seemed to be made of metal, but unlike the wall across the stairs, there was no handle, nothing to suggest a way through. There was nothing more he could do here. Matt decided to go back to his room before they discovered that he was missing. But he had just made it to the second floor when he heard voices once again ... more guards, walking slowly down the corridor. Matt saw an empty door and slipped inside, once again ducking out of sight. He was in the laundry room. There was a washing machine, a dryer, and two ironing boards. At least it was warm in here. He felt himself surrounded by the smell of soap. The guards walked past, and soon the sound of their footsteps disappeared. There was a second metallic click that seemed to stretch the full length of the corridor, and Matt realized that all the doors had been unlocked at the same time. He could go back to bed. He crept out and hurried forward. His footsteps took him past Jamie Spurtz's room, next to his own. He noticed that Jamie's door was open. And then a voice called out from inside.
"Matt?" It was Jamie. No. That wasn't possible. But there was someone in his room.
Matt looked inside. The light went on. It was Jamie. He was sitting up in bed, bleary-eyed, as if he had just woken up. Matt stared at him. He was wearing the same pyjamas as the boy he had just seen dragged into the library ... but that couldn't have been him. It must have been someone else. "What are you doing?" Jamie asked.
"I thought I heard something," Matt said.
"But you're dressed. And you're soaking wet!" Jamie looked at his watch. "It's almost three." Matt was surprised that so much time had passed. It had been only a quarter past two when he had woken up. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"Yeah . . ."
"You haven't ...?"
"'What?"
"Nothing. I'll see you tomorrow." Matt crept back to his own room. He closed the door then stripped off his wet clothes, dried himself with a towel, and got back into bed. If it hadn't been Jamie he had seen being taken into the library, who was it? And yet it had been Jamie; he was sure of it. He had heard the shout, seen the limp form on the stairs. So why was Jamie lying now? Matt closed his eyes and tried to get back to sleep. The movements of the night had created more puzzles and had solved nothing. But at least he'd gotten something out of it all.
He now knew how to get up to the third floor. Before he fell asleep Mion's conversation was still puzzling him, little did he know the answer to the puzzle would be solved tomorrow.