The Midnight Game, page 17
Ellie unfolded the scrap of paper. “Yeah.”
“What does it say?”
Ellie couldn’t get the words out, so she held it out to him in silence.
“Oh.” Callum took a shallow breath and Ellie looked down at the writing through teary eyes.
The reason I am here today: I need friends.
“Yeah.” Ellie’s blood boiled once more. “This is not going to happen to us, do you hear me?”
“I’m with you. What’s the plan?”
“First of all, let’s get the hell out of here. You need a hospital.”
“But we can’t leave until the game is over and it’s only”—he squinted down at his wrist—“twenty minutes to three. We have almost an hour to go.”
“You still believe in the game?” Ellie shook her head. “Everything that’s happened has been because of people, Callum. They killed Mei and Hugo. If we don’t get the hell out of here, we’re next.”
“I know.”
“Plus, we haven’t had a candle for, what? Twenty minutes? And we’ve been fine.” She looked down at the blood that covered them both and placed the tips of her fingers to her temple. “Well, you know what I mean.”
“Maybe,” Callum said. She rolled out her arms and her ankles, testing for injuries. Yes, she felt like she had the mother of all hangovers, between the bat to the head and her blood being all over the place, but she seemed otherwise unhurt. She stood up straight to stretch out her back and her foot crunched over something. She glanced down.
They were sitting inside a huge ring of salt.
“Did you do this?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Callum nodded. “When they left, I saw this huge tub on the table, so I…well, I didn’t see how it could hurt. I’ve been hearing weird noises, but I blamed it on the fact that I had massive blood loss and was stuck in a room with an unconscious girl and a dead guy. Anyone’s mind would play tricks on them in that situation.”
“Fair point.” Ellie’s eyes searched the kitchen counters now. Cookies, yes. Candles, no. “It looks like they’ve taken everything we had.” She looked down at Callum. “They’re going to be back any second—we need to make a choice. We either stay here and fight or we try to leave.”
“What if we hide?”
“Hide? Sounds good to me. But where?”
“There’s a little nurse’s office off the main corridor just out there. There’s one door in and one door out, onto the playground. We can lock ourselves in there. I didn’t show it to anyone before, and it kind of looks like a closet. They might not think to look inside.”
Ellie sighed. “OK, but if we see them, we are running. Deal?” She looked at him. There was no way he could run in this state. “I’m assuming you don’t have the keys anymore?”
“No, Reece took them. But I know where the spares are. Over there.” He nodded to the kitchen area. “On a hook under the sink. And check the bottom drawer—Mom calls it the junk drawer. There might be candles in there.”
“OK.”
Ellie placed her arms under Callum’s armpits and helped ease him off the couch. He stood up and instantly hunched over, a fresh trickle of blood cascading over his hands.
“Dizzy,” he whispered, leaning against the arm of the sofa.
“Just stay there.” Ellie raced to closest door, the one across from the bathrooms, and peered into the corridor. She could hear voices. They seemed distant, but this place was essentially built as one huge circle. They could be coming from anywhere. “Which way to the nurse’s office?” she hissed over her shoulder.
“Left.” She eyed the distance to what looked like a closet door. Twenty feet away, maybe less? She could help carry him that far.
“Great.” She retreated into the room and carefully inched the door under the sink open. A small row of hooks studded the back of it, each with a neat label above it. “God love your mother; these ones are all labeled.”
“I know.” Callum panted. “It’s the…one that says…first aid.”
“Got it.” Ellie wrapped her fingers around the two keys that dangled from a green plastic fob to stop them from clattering together. She gently shut the door and turned to ease the bottom drawer open. It was packed with all sorts of junk, and there was no way she could rummage around without making a racket. “This one’s not so organized.” She let her eyes travel over the items she could see clearly, while Callum shuffled over behind her.
“There.” He pointed. “Candles.”
“Bingo.” Ellie eased out a bag of small tea lights, before realizing they couldn’t use them. “They’re fake,” she whispered, bending the plastic flame beneath her thumb.
“Safety candles,” he groaned, “because elementary school. Do they work, at least?”
“Maybe.” Ellie felt for the small switch on the bottom and flicked it. The plastic tea light gave off a merry, flickering glow. “Yep,” she said, passing it to Callum, “that’s working. We can take the bag, just in case.” She pulled out another and flicked it on. It glowed in the dark. “I guess they’ll have to do.”
“OK. Can you help me?” Ellie nodded, and Callum put the hand holding the candle around her shoulders, transferring some of his weight to her. Ellie’s knees buckled a little, but she tensed her legs and straightened up.
“Got you. Oh, wait.” She paused and bent her knees in order to pluck a roll of duct tape from the drawer, sliding it onto her wrist like a bracelet. “We can use this.” She pushed the drawer closed with her foot before looking back at Hugo one final time. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to him.
“Come on.” Callum began to shuffle to the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
Friday, October 22, 2021
Al 23:49
Hey, L.
You home yet?
L 23:51
Just.
I got the full-on third degree from Mom.
She never believes me when I say I haven’t been drinking.
Al 23:51
I think it might take her a while to get over the stomach-pumping incident…
L 23:52
Yeah.
Al 23:52
Sorry, I know you don’t like to be reminded.
Don’t worry—she’ll get over it eventually. And besides—I drink enough for both of us.
L 23:53
This is true.
So, are you psyched? For the Halloween party?
Al 23:54
YES.
It’s gonna be EPIC.
You know Shauna Dawson’s older brother, Luke?
L 23:54
Kind of. He left school before we started, right?
Al 23:55
That’s the one.
Well, he’s some kind of urban explorer now.
He’s the one who suggested the old theater.
Said it’s still pretty put together in there.
L 23:56
That is so cool. And spooky.
Perfect for Halloween.
Al 23:56
Right?
Oooh, let’s get everyone to wear a costume from a horror movie!
L 23:56
Bagsy OG Scream.
Al 23:57
As if you’re gonna wear a floor-length robe. It would cover up the goodies.
You nearly froze to death tonight in that playsuit.
L 23:57
The goodies? You little perv ;)
I work hard for this peachy behind.
Anyway, not all of us are comfortable in head-to-toe black, my little witch.
Al 23:57
I’d be insulted, but I know you’re a goth at heart.
You just hide it behind pastels and a great blow-out.
L 23:58
Why, thank you.
Anyway, I meant I wanted my costume to be Tatum from the first Scream film.
That way I can wear a teeny outfit and just put a cat flap around my waist.
Al 23:58
Oh, bravo.
I love it.
L 23:58
What about you? Any ideas?
Al 23:59
I’m not sure yet.
Someone from The Craft, maybe?
L 23:59
Please tell me you mean the original Craft.
Not the one you made me watch last month that actually ruined my life.
Al 23:59
It wasn’t that bad!
Saturday, October 23, 2021
Al 00:00
OK, so it was.
Yeah, I’d have to do Nancy from the first one, wouldn’t I?
L 00:01
Yeah, that’ll be easy.
Not far from your usual attire…
Al 00:01
Oh, be nice.
Oh, hey—did you like my present?
L 00:02
I LOOOOOVE it!
I’ve wrapped it around my wrist so it’s a cute little double chain.
Al 00:03
Nice!
Did I tell you what happens when you put the broken hearts together?
It says “Best Witches” instead of best friends :)
L 00:04
You did.
You showed me.
Several times, in fact.
Nothing to do with that bottle of gin and lemonade…
Al 00:05
Ha.
Sorry.
You like it, though?
L 00:05
I told you, I love it.
I’m never taking it off.
Sunday, July 3, 2:46 a.m.
CALLUM
The walk to the nurse’s office seemed to take forever to Callum. He felt like he was wading through mud: planting one leg in front and dragging the one on his injured side so he might stem the bleeding. All this while trying to keep one hand plastered to his wound and attempting to keep the majority of his weight off Ellie.
“We’re almost there,” she said through gritted teeth. They took two more slow steps and arrived in front of the door, its navy-blue paint shining in the weak candlelight. “Can you keep watch while I open it?”
“Yeah.” Callum turned his head to look down the long, dark corridor as Ellie slid the key into the lock. “Nothing so far,” he whispered. From here he could see down the corridor to the library and straight through the foyer, which was fairly bright as the streetlights from outside bled through the upstairs windows. All seemed still.
“Good. In you go.” She eased the door open and pushed him inside. He sank gratefully onto the child-sized sickbed and sighed as she shut the door.
“Lock it,” he said, realizing she was doing it anyway. She left the key in the door, the little fob dancing merrily as it hung there.
“Should I cover that?” Ellie pointed to a window fitted with patterned glass. A tiny desk was crammed beneath it, and it was next to the other door, which was about a foot away from the bed. The room was small, only really big enough for two people, and the only other bits of furniture were a tiny corner sink and a tall metal cupboard.
“Nah, it’s privacy glass. Plus, it’s looking over the playground. I think those guys are still inside.”
“Right, well, let me look at you.”
“What do you mean?”
“We need to do something to treat that wound. How long do you think you’ll be able to walk around holding your internal organs in using only one hand?” She moved over to the bed and sat carefully beside him. “Let me see.”
“Get a first-aid kit first.” Callum gritted his teeth. “Or at least some paper towels?”
Ellie looked at the wall over the sink. “OK.” She stood up and started pulling towels out, one by one.
“No—use the key. It’s taped to the side of the dispenser.” He watched as Ellie felt around until she peeled away a piece of masking tape. It was stuck to a flat piece of plastic.
“This?”
“Yeah. You see the prongs?” He thought about the last time he had filled the dispensers for his mom. “There should be two little holes on top of the casing. Press those in and it’ll pop open.”
Ellie followed his instructions and sighed. “That’s much better,” she said, easing the front of the dispenser down and pulling out a wedge of paper towels. She put them on the bed before taking two paper cups from a precarious tower and filling them with water. “Drink.”
She held one of the cups to his mouth, and he took several small sips. “Thanks. Yeah, I forgot about that. Didn’t matter if you’d grazed your knee or broken your leg—the answer was always ‘Let’s put a wet paper towel on it.’ ” He chuckled, stopping short as he felt the edges of his wound rub together. “Thanks.” She put his cup down and drained her own, filling it again and again. After she’d downed the third cup, she put it in the sink and wiped her lips.
“Better?”
“Yeah. I’m always so thirsty when my blood sugar is high. Right.” She sat down again, holding the paper towels at the ready. “There’s a lot of blood, but it can’t be fatal, can it? Otherwise, you’d be…you know.”
“I know.”
“You let go and pull your shirt up. I’ll press these on to stem any bleeding and then see if I can have a peek, OK?”
“Should I lie down? It’s the only way I can think of to keep the bleeding above my heart. That’s what you’re supposed to do, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. I guess it makes sense?” Ellie chewed her lip and took a second to tuck her hair behind her ears as Callum maneuvered himself onto his right side. He stared at the keys in the lock. “The key for the medical cupboard is on that keyring too. The first-aid kits are in there.”
“OK.”
“Be quick,” he begged. Callum began to inch up his shirt, a hiss escaping his lips. “I think she got me between the ribs, down near the bottom.”
“OK,” Ellie repeated. “Right—three, two, one, move!” Callum felt cold air pierce his side for a second and cried out before Ellie pushed the paper towels on to the wound, shushing him. “I’m so sorry; I know it must be agony, but you need to stay quiet.”
Callum couldn’t force out an answer.
“I’m going to take your belt off.”
“What?” he said in alarm.
“You can bite down on it. It’s what they do in gangster movies when a vet or someone is digging a bullet out of the bad guy. Unless you have a secret stash of whisky somewhere, this is all I can think of.”
“Even if I did, I don’t drink,” he huffed, lifting his hips slightly as Ellie undid his buckle and pulled the belt from the loops of his jeans.
“Me neither,” she said, handing him the belt. “So, you didn’t drink from Hugo’s flask earlier?”
“No, I pretended. You?”
“Same. It’s basic girl code. I don’t trust a drink I haven’t poured myself.”
“Sounds sensible.” He bit down on the warm leather, trying to avoid the section that was soaked in his own blood. “Go,” he said, his voice muffled.
“I’ll be as quick as I can.”
He sucked in a breath as Ellie lifted the pressure on his side, biting down. It helped. He took deep breaths through his nose, which helped keep the darkness at the edges of his vision away. If he let that creep in, he didn’t know if he’d wake up again.
“I don’t think it’s that bad,” she said as he felt the pressure resume on his ribs. “I mean, of course it’s bad, you’ve just been shanked in the ribs, but the bleeding is slowing down and I think I can patch it up for now.”
“Really?” He was starting to feel light-headed now that the blood was getting back to his brain. It brought with it a strange sense of euphoria. He was going to be fine. Ellie would fix him, and they’d get out of here. He could go home.
“I can try. Here, press down on this.” She closed his hand over the paper towels and pushed off the bed. She slid the keys from the door and inserted the other one into the tall metal cabinet, swinging the doors open before replacing the key. “Bingo,” she whispered.
Callum couldn’t see the inside of the cupboard, but he’d helped restock it enough times to know where everything was. “There are two baskets on the top shelf—one with alcohol wipes and the other with little packets of gauze. Grab them and some medical tape from one of the green bags.”
“This will work better.” Ellie shook the roll of duct tape on her wrist as she appeared in front of him, one basket in each hand. “Saw it—”
“In a movie?”
“Almost. On Deddit.”
“Well, then it must be true.” He saw the crestfallen look on her face. “I’m joking. I trust you. Well, as much as I can trust anyone at the moment.”
“Fair.” She sat down again. “I won’t clean it. I don’t know how deep it is and I don’t want to aggravate it before you get to a hospital. I’ll just put a stack of gauze over the gash, clean around it as best as I can, and then tape over it. What do you think?”
