Evil Star

what had happened out of the news.

    Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star There was no reason yet to start a panic. As they searched the roads up and down Yorkshire, the police remained tight-lipped. But they all knew. Over two thousand gallons of petrol could create a very
    large bonfire.
    They didn't want to admit they were afraid

    • • •
    .
    For Matt, the morning only got worse.
    He arrived five minutes late for his first lesson, stumbling into the classroom while the teacher — Miss Ford — was in full flow.
    "I'm sorry I'm late, Miss —"
    "Why are you late, Matthew?"
    How could he explain? How could he tell her that he'd had some sort of premonition outside the school chapel that had left him paralyzed, uncertain what to do?
    "I forgot my bag," he said. It was a lie. But it was simpler than the truth.
    "Well, I'm afraid I'm going to have to put you in the detention book." Miss Ford sighed. "Now, will you please take your seat?"
    Matt's desk was right at the back of the classroom. Although he kept his eyes fixed on the floor, he felt every-one watching him as he took his place. Miss Ford was one of the better teachers at Forrest Hill. She was plain and old-fashioned, which somehow suited her since she taught history. She had been kind to Matt and had tried to help him fill in the gaps in his knowledge. For his part, Matt had done his best to catch up, reading extra books after school. They Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star were studying the Second World War and he found it more interesting than medieval kings or endless lists of dates. It might be history, but it still mattered now.
    Even so, he was unable to concentrate today. Miss Ford was telling them about Dunkirk, May 1940. Matt tried to follow what she was saying but he couldn't make the words link up. She seemed a long way away. It was becoming very warm in the classroom.
    ". . . the army was cut off and it seemed to many people in England that the war was already lost. .. ."
    Matt looked out the window. Once again he became aware of the sharp, acrid, burning smell.
    And that was when he saw it, floating through the air, making no sound. It was some sort of truck. There was a figure hunched behind the wheel, but the sunlight was reflecting off the windscreen and he couldn't make it out. Like a great beast, the truck soared toward the school, plummeting out of the sky. Its headlamps were its eyes. The radiator grille was a gaping mouth. The tanker seemed to stretch into the distance^ a huge, gleaming silver cylinder on twelve thick tires.
    Closer and closer it came. Now it filled up the whole window and was about to smash through . . .
    "Matthew? What is it?"
    Everyone was looking at him. Again. Miss Ford had stopped whatever she was saying and was looking at him with a mixture of impatience and concern.
    "Nothing, Miss Ford."
    "Well, stop staring out the window and try to concen-trate. As I was saying, many people thought that Dunkirk was a miracle. . . ."

    Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star Matt waited a few moments, then glanced out the window again.
    The classroom looked across to the sports center, a solid, brick building on the other side of a field, separated from the main part of the school by a single road which rose steeply and then continued back toward York. There was no traffic. It was a beautiful day. Matt pressed a hand against his forehead. When he drew it away, there was sweat on his palm. What was wrong with him? What was going on?
    Somehow he managed to stumble through history and then physics and PE. But the last lesson of the morning just had to be English with Mr. King. They were reading Macbeth, and Matt found Shakespeare's language difficult enough at the best of times. Today it meant nothing to him — and Mr. King seemed to have a built-in radar that allowed him to hone in on anyone who wasn't paying atten-tion. It only took him a few minutes before he pounced on Matt.
    "Am I boring you, Freeman?" he asked with an unpleas-ant sneer.
    "No, sir."
    "Then perhaps you can tell me what I was just saying about the three weird sisters?"
    Matt shook his head. He might as well admit it. "I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't listening."
    "Then come and see me at the end of the lesson." Mr. King brushed a strand of ginger hair out of his eyes. "The weird sisters tell Macbeth his future," he went on. "And of course he believes them.
    In Shakespeare's time, many people still believed in witchcraft and black