CHAPTER 5: Unusual Bonfires and Annoying Announcements

Using my hands and knees, I crawled towards the source of light on my left as quickly as a terrified, bruised, barefoot girl in the middle of the Forest possibly could. The glow was weak, flickering against the dirt and leaves like it was also considering giving up on life. When my fingers finally closed around the flashlight, I realised it was the same useless one that had died earlier. Apparently, being thrown into the ground had knocked the battery back into place, which was excellent timing and also deeply rude. It could have chosen to work before I experienced my final moments as a worm.

I lifted the flashlight and did what I had been dying to do. Pun not intended.

I flashed the beam towards the place where the footsteps were loudest.

The round light landed on two legs. Wait, no, four legs. My eyes widened. There were two killers. They shifted in the light, moving through the trees, and for one horrifying second I thought they were wearing some sort of brown fur pants, confirming my suspicion that I had stumbled upon bush people.

I raised the beam higher to see their faces.

What?

I stared, wide-eyed, at the creature in front of me.

A deer.

A freaking deer.

That was what had been trying to kill me? A deer with twig legs and big panicked eyes? It froze in the light, looking just as traumatised as I felt, then bolted deeper into the woods with the kind of dramatic leap that made me feel slightly judged. If it started singing too, I was going to throw myself into a bush and let nature finish the job.

I blinked rapidly and pushed myself off the ground. How had I been stupid enough not to realise it was a deer the whole time? Yes, it was dark, and yes, I had no business being in the Forest at midnight, but the least I could have done was notice that my killer sounded a lot more like a galloping horse than a knife-wielding maniac. I dusted myself off, removing twigs and leaves that had attached themselves to me like souvenirs. My arms were lined with bruises and scratches, and my exposed legs looked just as bad. Fantastic. I had entered the Forest as a person and was leaving as a scratched-up scarecrow.

Now all I needed was to find Xeine so I could kill him.

A rustle sounded from the bushes behind me. This time, I didn’t flinch. It was probably the deer again. Yep. Just a deer. A harmless deer. A forest horse with anxiety. Nothing to worry about.

The rustling grew louder.

Nope.

Not taking that chance.

I sprinted in the opposite direction.

Not dying today.

I had no idea how long I wandered after that. Time worked differently in the Forest, probably because trees were selfish and refused to provide clocks. I was hungry, tired, sad and outrageously mad. The flashlight was weak, its beam barely strong enough to show me which tree I was about to walk into next, and I had bumped into so many trunks I was starting to take it personally. It was quiet too, the kind of quiet that made your own breathing sound suspicious. My footsteps were the only thing I could hear, along with the occasional crack of twigs beneath my abused feet.

I could not believe Xeine had left me.

He left me.

Coward.

He dragged me into this nonsense, then disappeared at the one hundredth sign of danger. He had ignored the first ninety-nine, the first being the fact that we were wandering around Zarp City at midnight like people with no attachment to living. Was I going to get home? Would my body ever be found? Would I receive an automatic pass on the maths test I was going to miss due to tragic forest-related death? Mr Santon would probably still try to give me a zero. He looked like the type to write “insufficient excuse” on my gravestone.

I regretted not bringing my phone. It was probably still sitting comfortably on my nightstand, charging peacefully while I suffered character development against my will.

Did forests work like deserts? Because I was starting to imagine things.

I stopped abruptly.

Voices.

“You killed her! Murderer!” an angry voice shouted.

Of all the things I could hallucinate, this had to be it. I looked towards the sound and saw a glimpse of warm light shining through the dense trees ahead. I debated whether I should be wise and stay away from strangers, or follow the voices and perhaps get some assistance. They sounded angry, and I feared the only assistance they would offer involved ending my life faster.

Then again, I had no other choice. I couldn’t keep wandering around hoping the trees would suddenly start talking and kindly lead me home. The voices didn’t sound like a large group, so hopefully there were only a few people. If things turned violent, I could use my nonexistent ninja skills. Very deadly. Mostly theoretical.

“You idiot!” another voice snapped.

I moved slowly towards the light, making sure to stay low and quiet. From behind a bush, I could see three shadows moving around what looked like a fire. They were in such a heated argument that it seemed seconds away from getting physical. I switched off my flashlight so I wouldn’t get caught and crouched lower.

My plan was simple: quietly observe until I figured out whether they were safe.

I just wished my instincts understood the meaning of quietly.

Something slithered over my leg.

It didn’t take long for me to start screaming like crazy and hopping on the other foot. I shook my right leg violently until whatever it was detached itself from me, then, in my panic frenzy, ran straight towards the voices.

The way I kept saying “the voices” was deeply concerning. I was already starting to sound crazy.

I burst through the trees into a little clearing, panting hard, hair falling out of my braids, pyjamas covered in dirt and dignity nowhere to be found. For a moment, everyone froze. I stood there staring at the shadows near the fire, and they stared back.

“I know that scream anywhere,” a familiar voice said.

Before I could respond, I was crushed into a hug.

“Oh, Danny! I’m so sorry!” Tommy shouted directly into my right ear, tightening his arms around me until my ribs began filing complaints.

I was still dazed, trying to understand what was happening. I blinked rapidly, searching for the breath being squeezed out of me. Chris approached us with a small, relieved smile on his face. “You had us so worried.”

My response was choking sounds.

He got the hint and tapped his brother on the shoulder. “Okay, that’s enough, man. You’re killing her.”

Tommy immediately released me, and I dragged air into my lungs like I had been reunited with an old friend. He held onto my arms and began pestering me with worried questions, most of which blurred together because my mind had already moved elsewhere. My eyes had locked onto another figure standing partly in the shadows on the other side of the fire.

He stepped forward.

Xeine.

And then I snapped.

The next thing I knew, I was charging towards him, hands stretched out and ready for violence. “I’m going to kill you!”

All I could see was red.

Xeine’s eyes widened behind those ridiculous sunglasses, but before he could react, I had already jumped onto him. He tumbled backwards with a loud thud, and we both rolled across the dirt. I didn’t care if I got more injuries. I was on a mission. We struggled on the ground, me trying to wrap my hands around his neck and him desperately blocking my attempts. I could barely see anything through my anger, but my hands moved anyway, hitting him at every chance. Somewhere in the chaos, I managed to invite my foot to the party and kicked the side of his head.

Xeine cursed colourfully.

“What the hell, Danny?” Chris exclaimed. “I know he left you for dead, but violence won’t fix anything.”

I ignored him. I was busy trying to poke Xeine’s eye out, but he had my wrist trapped. For a wimp, he was strong. I would have really appreciated this show of strength earlier when we were in the dark and apparently being hunted by Bambi.

My finger was just about to reach his eye when two strong arms lifted me off him.

I was starting to regret associating with athletes.

“Let me go!” I kicked and twisted in the air, probably looking demented while Chris held me tightly around the waist.

“Calm down,” Tommy said from beside me. “Remember, you have to count to ten.”

I glared at him, still struggling in his brother’s grip. “Take your numbers and shove them up—ouch!”

A sharp pinch to my side from Chris stopped me.

“Be nice,” he scolded, sounding like an angry mother.

I would have stepped on his foot if I could reach it.

I was so angry I wanted to wrap my hands around something, preferably Xeine’s throat. Tommy looked at me expectantly. “Count with me.”

I scowled and stopped struggling. “Put me down. I’m good now.”

“No. Count,” Chris said from behind me, his hold still strong.

Did everyone believe they could toss me around like a sack of potatoes?

Fine. I would count.

“One to ten,” I said. “There. I’m done.”

Tommy smiled. Chris laughed. Annoyingly, the sound tugged a smile out of me too. My anger began to deflate, not completely, but enough that I no longer wanted to commit murder in front of witnesses.

Chris finally set me down. I turned around and slapped his chest. “Next time you pick me up, it’ll be your eye I’m gauging out. Okay?”

He fake-saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

I turned back to Xeine, who had moved to the other side of the fire and was standing there looking traumatised and shaking like a leaf. I was fairly sure he was putting on another show as usual, so I didn’t apologise.

Now that my attempted murder had been interrupted, I finally got a proper look at the area. Near the fire were camping chairs, a foldout table, blankets, bottles, snacks, and a suspiciously impressive number of bags. Someone had clearly put effort into this nonsense. Too much effort, considering the whole thing took place in the Forest, where effort should have been directed towards leaving.

“How did you manage to drag all this through the Forest?” I asked.

I could barely drag myself through the trees.

“Oh, we drove most of the way,” Tommy said. “There’s an old service road like a two-minute walk from here.”

My jaw fell open.

“Two-minute walk?” I asked in disbelief.

Clearly, I had heard wrong, because I had been trekking through death for what felt like an hour.

“Yep,” Chris said, glancing between me and Xeine. “We sent him the pin and told him to use the service road entrance.”

My head snapped towards Xeine so fast I was surprised I didn’t get whiplash.

He looked around anxiously, guilt written all over his face.

“I thought the straight route would be faster,” he muttered.

“The straight route?” I repeated slowly.

“It looked shorter on the map.”

“You took me barefoot through the murder trees because the line on the map looked shorter?”

“In my defence—”

I launched myself at him again.

This time, luck was not on my side. My foot caught on a log near the fire, and instead of reaching Xeine, I stumbled forward. For one terrifying second, the world tilted towards orange flames. I jerked sideways, but my pyjama top brushed the edge of the fire, and the fabric caught.

I screamed.

My top was on fire.

Not a huge flame, maybe, but at that moment, any flame attached to my body felt unreasonable. I dropped to the ground and began rolling around in the dirt like a panicked burrito.

“Daniella, take it off!” someone shouted.

Absolutely not.

I was naked underneath. Well, not fully naked, but enough that removing my top in front of three boys would ruin my soul forever. I kept rolling until the fire finally went out, leaving smoke, dirt and the burnt smell of poor life choices.

Panting with relief, I lay flat on my back and stared at the dark sky above the trees. I wasn’t dead. My top was still on me, despite nearly half the bottom being burnt off, and I was still breathing. Excellent. Another near-death experience survived. Someone should have been giving me loyalty points.

Three shadows loomed over me.

“Damn, Danny,” Chris said. “You scared the crap out of us.”

“Are you crazy?” Tommy shouted. “You could have died!”

“Thank God you didn’t remove your top,” Xeine added, sounding deeply relieved. “The trauma that would’ve followed would have been devastating.”

Gotta love my friends.

After the little fire fiasco, the night settled into something almost normal, if your definition of normal included sitting barefoot in a cursed forest at one in the morning with a burnt shirt, bruised limbs and friends who had the survival instincts of teaspoons. We ate snacks, told scary stories, and argued about whether the deer had been trying to kill me on purpose. Xeine claimed deer were gentle creatures. I told him gentle creatures did not kick innocent girls in the stomach while pretending to be serial killers.

By the time we eventually found the service road, which did indeed exist two minutes from the clearing, I was too tired to murder anyone. Chris and Tommy drove us home in the old van they had somehow borrowed from their uncle, which explained the camping gear and also why I had spent half the night walking when a vehicle had been involved the entire time. I made a mental note to question their decision-making skills when I had enough energy to form threats.

I crawled back through my bedroom window close to four in the morning, took the longest shower of my life to scrub away dirt and smoke, shampooed my hair so many times my scalp probably felt abandoned, threw the burnt top into the bin, and collapsed into bed with the kind of exhaustion usually reserved for people who had fought wars.

Unfortunately, school did not care about my suffering.

“Wakey wakey, sleepyhead.”

An annoying voice interrupted my wonderful sleep.

“Go away,” I mumbled into my pillow.

“We’re late for school, and I’m leaving in about five minutes.”

School who?

I decided I would skip today. Last night, or this morning, had been too hectic for education. My body hurt in places I didn’t know could hurt, my hand still carried the bruise from punching Xeine, and I was fairly sure one of my feet had formed a personal grudge against me.

“Oh, and Mum says if you don’t wake up, she’ll come wake you herself,” Kyle added before closing my bedroom door.

My head shot up like a meerkat.

Mum?

Oh heck no.

I launched myself out of bed and began jumping around my room, grabbing random clothes and stuffing myself into them. In a frenzy, I slipped into black jeans, a white top and a black hoodie, mine this time. When I looked in the mirror, I cringed. Sleeping with wet hair had been a great mistake. My curls had expanded into a shape that suggested I had argued with lightning and lost.

I grabbed a beanie from my dresser and shoved it over the mess. It took effort, strength and possibly witchcraft, but I finally managed to tuck all my hair underneath. Then I found black sneakers and tried to make my face look presentable. Couldn’t walk into school looking like the walking dead now, could I?

I grimaced at the dark circles under my eyes. I had gotten home around four and had maybe three hours of sleep.

What was I doing with my life?

I grabbed my school bag, grateful I had packed it the night before, shoved my phone into my pocket and rushed downstairs. I passed through the kitchen to grab a snack. Only fruit was available, so I gathered two apples, two bananas, three oranges, two peaches, a pear, strawberries and a small mango.

What?

I was hungry.

The house seemed oddly empty. I rushed out of the kitchen, only to trip over something fluffy and go tumbling down. My fruit scattered across the floor, and I immediately regretted not putting everything in a container.

I groaned in pain before something jumped onto me and attacked my face with ferocious licking.

“Waggles,” I laughed, trying to push him off as he tickled me with his overly enthusiastic tongue.

A car horn sounded outside. Kyle was never patient. I was just glad he had waited for me instead of abandoning me to Mum’s imaginary threat.

I began sadly picking up my fruit and wondering where Mum was when Waggles made a criminal decision.

“Waggles!”

The greedy dog snatched one of my bananas and the small mango slice I had managed to save from the counter earlier, then sauntered away happily like a thief with no remorse. I quickly scooped the grapes out of reach before he could even think about them. Mum had drilled that one into us after Waggles tried to eat trail mix as a puppy: grapes were danger snacks for dogs.

“Thief!” I shouted after him.

The front door burst open, and I jumped, dropping all my fruit again.

What a great start to the morning.

“Let’s go!” Kyle stood by the door looking annoyed.

“Where’s Mum?” I asked, picking up fruit again and silently wondering whether the five-second rule still applied if the floor looked clean.

“She left about an hour ago,” he said, far too casually, hands shoved into his jean pockets.

“What?”

My hands went flying, and so did some of the fruit I had just picked up. Again.

She left a long time ago?

“You tricked me,” I said through clenched teeth.

Kyle shrugged one shoulder. “It worked.”

Outside, Chris honked again from the car. That explained the horn. The twins had apparently decided to give us a lift, which was generous considering one of them had almost got me killed a few hours earlier. Kyle grabbed my arm and started dragging me towards the door.

“No! My fruit!” I dramatically exclaimed, turning back with my free hand stretched towards the scattered casualties. I swear I could hear sad music playing in the background.

“Forget the fruit,” Kyle said. “We’re already late.”

I reluctantly trudged through the school hallways a little while later, still grieving my lost breakfast. I was so caught up in my grumpy mood that I didn’t immediately notice how empty the school seemed. Classrooms were unoccupied, and lessons had started twenty minutes ago. The silence felt strange, too wide for a school usually packed with shouting, slamming lockers and people pretending they weren’t late.

“Where have you been?” a voice shouted as a body jumped from behind a corner.

Out of reflex, my hand shot out and hit my attacker.

“Ow! Danny!” Chris held his chin and grimaced.

“You know not to sneak up on me.” I shrugged and continued towards my locker, only for him to grab my right bicep. I stared up at him. He looked fresh as a daisy, like he had enjoyed eight full hours of healthy sleep. What was he taking? Because I needed some of it.

“You didn’t hear?” he asked, already smiling and forgetting about his chin.

How could he be so chirpy after last night?

“Hear what?” I looked around again. “Was school cancelled?”

He wasn’t even wearing a backpack. But if there was no school, why was he here? And why had Kyle forced me to come? He’d had the audacity to rush into school ahead of me, leaving me wandering around the parking lot like a lost lamb.

“There’s an important announcement,” Chris said.

I stared blankly.

“Meaning we get to miss first period.”

My ears perked up.

Miss class?

My first period was English, and I had been dreading it. Maybe this morning had decided to be nice after all.

“Then what are we still doing here? Let’s go!” My voice echoed through the empty hallway, brighter than it had any right to be considering my empty stomach and near-death hangover.

The hall was packed when we arrived. Students filled the rows of seats, teachers stood near the front, and Principal Scabbich was onstage beside Vice-Principal Anchohea, who held the microphone like she feared it might bite her. Mrs Anchohea was always like this. Ironically, she was unnecessarily loud in normal conversation, but give her a microphone and she whispered like her life depended on it.

“The reason we have gathered you all here,” she said softly, so softly half the room leaned forward, “is because we have an important announcement.”

“No crap, Sherlock,” someone called from the students.

Laughter scattered across the hall.

The teachers immediately looked ready to snatch the culprit like vultures.

“Silence!”

The command came from Cruella Devil, also known as my English teacher, Ms Octôbùhìěágfdrūdrûībùbū. Pronunciation unknown, because no living person could say that name with a straight face and actually know what they were doing. Why did her name have every vowel, plus enough accents to decorate a birthday cake? This remained a mystery to us all. To be honest, I had never heard anyone say it. We all called her Ms O. In fact, she had introduced herself as Ms O, and we all believed that was her actual surname until she wrote the real one on the board and watched us stare in horrified silence. She never said it either. I was convinced she couldn’t.

Her presence alone was enough to quiet every student. Now imagine her loud, booming, screechy voice. It could make you appreciate the sound of a cat scratching a chalkboard.

“Thank you...” Mrs Anchohea said to Ms O, then paused. I didn’t miss the hesitation. She clearly wanted to continue and say Ms O’s full name, but sense knocked into her before she could embarrass herself. “As I was saying...”

I zoned out.

Actually, I passed out.

The sound of angry protests and a hard elbow to my ribs woke me very alert. I glared at Chris on my right.

“You need to be awake for this nonsense,” he whispered, nodding towards the front.

I sat up from my bent position and discreetly wiped drool from the corner of my chin. I had been deep in that sleep. Fine. Let’s see this nonsense, then. Principal Scabbich was now at the microphone, his expression grave enough that some students had actually stopped muttering.

“Due to the recent events involving students wearing provocative clothing and repeatedly disregarding the dress code,” he said, “we have made a final decision.”

I couldn’t deny that my eyes did a tiny dance around the room at the mention of provocative clothing. I knew no good would come from it. It had been only a matter of time before the school did something dramatic. This was Zarp City. Even our schools couldn’t solve problems normally.

“School uniforms shall be introduced,” Principal Scabbich continued. “This is not up for discussion.”

The hall erupted.

Students shouted, groaned and protested as if he had announced we were all being sent to prison, which, depending on the uniform design, might not have been far from the truth. I was fully included in the outrage, naturally. I had no love for everyone’s questionable fashion choices, but forced uniforms sounded like a crime against personal freedom and possibly colour coordination.

Chris leaned closer. “This isn’t going to end well.”

For once, I completely agreed.