Hunted

Five: Mounting Pressure

The eerie silence of the stadium seemed to penetrate James' skull, assaulting his senses and his mind. He could feel his fingernails cutting into his palms as he clenched his fists, his knuckles strained white with the tension. A stiff, painful ache ran along the length of his jaw as he gritted his back teeth together with scarcely concealed anger. Row after row of students stood perfectly rigid, their eyes unseeing, their muscles taut. Nobody flinched, not an eyelid flickered, nobody even glanced sideways to silently question their neighbour on why they had been summoned to the arena; not in Kingston.

James could only hear his own angry breath and the pounding of the blood in his ears. He wanted to break the silence. He wanted to jump and shout. He wanted to yell and curse and tear the stadium apart, ripping the concrete and steel with his mind, with his anger. He wanted to push the others, so perfectly straight and obedient. He wanted to make them feel what he felt, the all-consuming hatred and desperation. He wanted them to know the bitter loss he felt, the bitter loss he had created for himself.

Instead he focused on the blank screen, the black void high above the steel-covered pitch where they now stood. He recalled Charlotte's face once projected on those screens, her dark hair glistening with the sombre light of the cameras, her bright blue eyes glinting as she beheld the stadium. He could imagine her smile, her dimples appearing, the corner of her eyes crinkled, beautiful and perfect, terrifyingly strong and hard but somehow fragile, in need of protection. James knew he had done everything to protect her, but he also knew Charlotte. He knew she would resent him for what he had done. He pressed his lips together, tearing his gaze from the screens, unable to bear the thought of her resentment, and looked reluctantly to the reason they were all standing in the stadium.

Dr Elmhirst was pacing back and forth, his appearance clinical and cold, as always. Bennett stood close by, his expression furious. His fists were clenched tightly. Other staff stood nearby watching the scene with cold apathy. They genuinely seemed to be disinterested in the entire scene before them, as if Charlotte's entire existence was of little interest to them. The only one to appear even slightly concerned was Dr Porter, her bright red hair falling around a troubled expression, distracted and confused.

"Where is she?" Elmhirst suddenly yelled, his voice booming and angrier than James had ever heard it. The soldiers did not move, they did not speak. Elmhirst face had contorted into an ugly, violent mask, veins protruding in his forehead and neck, his pale eyes bulging, his thin lips, moist with spit, were all but visible in his rage. "I know somebody has to know. She can't just have vanished," he yelled, his hands trembling violently. He glared at the students and then the raw anger seemed to pass. He stood straighter, fixed his tie, wiped his lips with his thumb and forefinger, and clenched and unclenched his right hand stiffly.

"We have ways of finding out the truth," Elmhirst bellowed, pronouncing each word clearly and slowly. The silence between his words was deafening. James could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He could feel the tense fear in the pit of his stomach. He had felt it before - in Charlotte's projections. Sometimes it was inexplicable, and other times he knew the root. Now he knew the root. In her projections she could just appear by his side and speak to him - warning words, reassuring words, threatening words, or just observations, like she had on the platform during the games. He tried to imagine what she would tell him now, if she could have appeared beside him. He could see her smile slightly, her bright blue eyes twinkling mischievously. He's frightened, she would say. James stared at Elmhirst and knew it was true. He has lost control on his world for the briefest moment and it terrifies him. James gritted his teeth, standing still like the rest of them. This is fun, she would delight, watching the headmaster as enraged as he was. This was winning in her eyes.

"Jun Lin," the headmaster bellowed, and James' memory of Charlotte faded abruptly. The tension was palpable as Jun stepped forward and approached the headmaster, her tiny footsteps echoing loudly in the silent stadium.