Miss No One - Mark Ayre (top 10 most read books in the world txt) 📗

Abbie was poking her head around the back of the block, then turning onto that side.

With Abbie's left shoulder to the brickwork, the field stretched out to her right. Along the wall were eleven windows. Abbie predicted the first of these would offer a view into the small room at the L's base. There would then be two windows for each of the five classrooms on this side of the building. Gary had said they needed classroom three from the double doors at the other end. From Abbie's position, that meant windows six and seven.

Gary appeared around the corner, behind Abbie.

"What are you doing?"

"What are we doing," Abbie said. "Team, remember?"

This was a lie, but Abbie was not yet ready to let Gary know she did not consider him an ally. Instead, she pointed to the windows. They were the kind you locked using two metal latches and lifted from the bottom to open. You couldn't pick the latches in the same way you could a key lock, but the wooden frames into which the windows were set were ancient. With limited force, Abbie believed she could break the latches or frame and hoist the window open. If they were even locked.

"Got to enter via the route they least expect," she said.

"But... I don't understand. Why unlock the other doors?"

"Options," said Abbie. "Escape routes."

She looked back at Gary. He was biting his lip. Afraid. More and more each second, he wished Abbie hadn't forced him to come along. She could see why.

"Do you think we'll find Isabella here?" she asked.

He stared at her, amazed she might seek his opinion. Not that he had a particularly enlightening one to give.

"I don't know."

"Do you hope so?"

"Of course," he almost sounded more indignant than afraid or guilty. Almost. "More than anything, I want to save—“

Abbie moved with a speed and ferocity that surprised even herself.

One of Abbie's many (and one of her less catchy) mantras was: never be sure.

Still, since before entering the school, Abbie had been as close to sure as it was possible to be that this was a set-up.

It was all too convenient where Gary was concerned. The clandestine meeting, the abundance of information about the relevant block, the near desperation for Abbie to enter via a specific route all indicated something untoward. And that was before you considered whether someone of Gary's cowardly nature would come searching for Abbie to voluntarily offer information that might endanger his life if not under coercion by some pretty scary, dangerous people.

Gary's biggest mistake was to assume these people were more frightening or more deadly than Abbie.

Hearing his rubbish about how keen he was to save Isabella had done it. The anger was like an electric shock. From nowhere, it struck, shooting through Abbie's body and forcing her arm into what almost seemed to be an involuntary motion.

Her elbow extended, her palm grabbed the side of Gary's head, cutting his speech dead.

With some force, Abbie slammed Gary's head into the brickwork. With a cry and a gasp, he crumpled into the grass.

There he lay, sobbing and clutching his head. He buried his face in the grass to hide his tears and to hide from Abbie. It was as though he believed if he burrowed far enough into the dirt, she would leave him alone.

Still inspired by anger, Abbie reached forward to grab Gary's shoulder. An inch from the cloth of his jacket, she hesitated, then stopped before she could touch him. Retracting her hand, Abbie stood and stepped away from the building onto the field. Notably, she was stepping away from Gary.

Deep breaths. He was only a teenager.

Deep breaths. Frightening people bearing guns and cruel intentions had no doubt cornered him, terrified him into doing what they said.

Deep breaths. This wasn't his fault.

Fine. It was Gary's fault. But he was young; he didn't have the strength or experience possessed by Abbie. How could he be expected to resist the will of men and women who shoved guns in his face and explained to him, in great detail, what would be the result of such resistance?

Deep breaths.

Emotions back under control, Abbie returned to the side of the building and crouched beside Gary, who remained in a heap, his hands on his head. At first, she did not touch him.

"Sit up," she said.

He remained in the dirt, soundless and unwilling to risk meeting Abbie's eye, facing her ire.

"Come on," she said. "It can't be that bad. I'm sorry I lost my temper."

Still, he would not move. Abbie began to worry about the time this was taking. Here she was, if not in the centre of then adjacent to a trap. Were her enemies aware of her location? Were they still waiting for her to go through the double doors or pivoting, preparing for plan B?

The gun clasped in her right hand, Abbie used her left to drag Gary's arm from the side of his head.

There was blood, but not much. It looked as though Gary had scraped his skull on the brick. He would be left with nothing more than a graze. In other words, he'd live.

No more time to mess around.

Abbie jabbed Gary in the ribs, and he jerked up. Before he could collapse back into the dirt, Abbie grabbed his shirt and shoved him into a sitting position against the wall.

"I don't understand," he whined.

Abbie closed her eyes. Took a breath.

"If you're wondering why I'm doing this," she said, indicating the closed lids, the deep exhale, "it's because of what I told you about how dangerous I was, especially to people who lie. Because you're a teenager, and I think you've been forced into deceiving me, I'm trying to resist the urge to put a bullet between your eyes. With every lie, you make it a little harder."

Letting this sink in, Abbie took several more deep breaths before opening her eyes and gazing into Gary's face.

"They told you to get me here and to get me to walk through the double doors you first indicated to me, correct?"

Gary