Evil Star

magic.. . ."
    The end of the lesson took forever to arrive and when it finally Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star came, Matt didn't hang around to receive whatever punishment Mr.
    King had in mind. It seemed to be getting hotter and hotter in the school. The glass in the windows was magnifying the sun, dazzling him. The walls seemed to be bending and shimmering in the heat.
    But he knew that he was only imagining it. This was early summer . . . the begin-ning of June. Looking around him, he could see that none of the other boys was feeling anything.
    There was a fifteen-minute break before the entire school would cross the road and go into the sports center for lunch. Once again Matt thought about calling Richard and asking him to help. Cell phones weren't allowed at Forrest Hill but there were three pay phones on the other side of the quad.
    "Matthew .. . ?"
    He turned round and saw Miss Ford walking toward him, on her way to the staff room.
    "Mr. King is looking for you," she said.
    Of course, he would be. Matt had defied him. That would mean more trouble than ever.
    "I wanted to tell you that your last essay was a real improvement,"
    Miss Ford went on. She was looking at Matt a little sadly. Now she frowned. "Are you feeling ill?" she asked. "You don't look very well."
    "I'm okay."
    "Well, maybe you should go and see the nurse." She had said enough. Even the teachers at Forrest Hill didn't want to be seen spending too much time with Matt. She brushed past him and continued on her way.

    Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star And that was when Matt made his decision. He wasn't going to see the nurse, a thin, scowling woman who seemed to treat any suggestion of illness as a personal insult. Nor was he going to call Richard. It was time to leave Forrest Hill. Today. The other boys had made it perfectly clear to him from the start that he didn't belong. Well, maybe they were right. What was he doing in a private school in the middle of Yorkshire? The only thing that he had in common with the rest of them was the uniform he was forced to wear.
    There was a garbage can in the corridor, just outside the staff room.
    Matt had been holding a pile of books, but now, without even thinking about it, he threw them all in. Macbeth. Math. A GCSE
    Guide to the Second World War. Then he took off his tie and threw that in, too. He felt bet-ter already.
    He turned round and began to walk.

    • • •
    Gwenda Davis had stopped at the top of the hill. She knew what she had to do but she still couldn't quite bring herself to do it. Gwenda had never liked pain. If she so much as cut her finger, she'd have to sit down for half an hour and smoke several cigarettes before she was ready to move. And she was fairly sure that her death was going to hurt very much indeed.
    Could she really do it? The school was spread out in front of her.
    She could see it through the windscreen. It looked like a very posh place, very different from the com-prehensive she had sent Matt to when he lived with her. She couldn't imagine him going to a place like this. It wasn't like him at all.

    Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star There were a whole load of old buildings grouped around a church
    — but she knew that she wouldn't find Matt there. He was going to be in the big brick building next to the football field. There would be lots and lots of boys in there with him. It was a shame, really, that so many of them would have to die. The more she thought about it, the more she wondered if this was a good idea. It wasn't too late. So far she had only killed one person — Brian. At the last minute, she had decided to hit the driver of the petrol tanker with the flat end, rather than the blade, of the ax. He'd seemed a friendly sort of person. She hadn't even really wanted to fracture his skull.
    The police would never catch up with her anyway. She could just get out of the petrol tanker and walk away. Maybe that's what she ought to do.
    On an impulse, she reached out and turned on the radio. It was one o'clock. The news would be on and she would find out if the driver had been found yet. But strangely enough, nothing came out of the speaker. She knew the radio was on. There was a faint hiss. But nobody was talking.
    And then she heard a single word.
    "Gwenda. . ."
    It was coming out of the radio, out of the dashboard. She knew who it was and she was so glad to hear him. But at the same time, she felt ashamed of herself. How