Incandescence

15: Lockdown

"Lockdown, they're calling it. Before you know it they'll have us all done up in orange jumpsuits, wae cells in place a' dorms."

I try to laugh at Peter's statement, really I do, but the sound just won't come out. Maybe it's got something to do with how serious the situation is. How nothing can ever lighten death.

We're in the West common room – Liv, Peter and I – currently in the middle of an air hockey tournament. Since Liv won the first game against Peter she's sitting out, playing 'referee' from the cushioned beanbags as I take him down.

Technically, I'm not supposed to be in the West common room, but it's not as though anyone is complaining. The teachers all have much bigger issues on mind.

"It's just till the cops finish with the investigation," Liv says, but even she doesn't sound too sure. I was right last night: it was a murder. A young girl, still to be identified, her throat slit and God knows what other injuries. Mr Skye found her in the cul-de-sac between the main building and the staff base. I'm still trying not to contemplate how she ever ended up there to begin with, or how it took so long for us to find her when, from the rumours I've heard, they're saying she'd been dead for at least twenty-four hours.

Cops have been on scene all day, scouting the school as if they're going to find any evidence here. The mass outbreak of boys in blue has got something to do with Marks. Apparently he's worried about the safety of us students, so has ordered them to stay on the grounds. In addition to this, he's also scrapped the rule about leaving campus. Until further notice, we're not allowed off grounds at all. Lockdown.

Mom got her way after all.

"Well, I hope they're not planning on taking all month," says Peter, defending his goals as the puck spins in their direction. "I don't want tae be cooped up in here till Christmas. I'm starting tae feel like a caged mutt."

"I thought you said your mom was moving if something freaky like this happened again, anyway."

 "Aye, I know. I did ask her about that on the phone last night, but she said, 'It's only a murder, Peter. No reason to be alarmed.'" He mimics his mother's voice in a high falsetto, rolling his eyes. "Only a murder? Have you ever heard as much crap in your life?"

"She's living under a rock if that's what she believes," I say, putting all my force into whacking the puck with my mallet as it shoots my way. It goes spinning back toward Peter's goals, only this time he's too slow to prevent it going in. The table lights up and he smacks his head in defeat.

"Score!" Liv hollers, cheering from her seat. "That's seven-four to April. Ha. No luck, Petey – she took you down like a boss." 

"I wisnae even paying attention–"

"Don't even gimme that bull. You know the score now: snacks are officially on you. Get me a Mars Bar from the tuck shop, will you? Oh, and a can of Pepsi as well. Make that three – of each. I'll need some for later on, too."

"Aye, alright," he says, abandoning his post by the air hockey table. "I don't have six hands, you know."

"I'll help." I shoot Liv an apologetic smile. She doesn't seem bothered about having to postpone our own game, though. Sitting up straight, she scans the hectic room. It seems like half the school has gathered in here. Groups of girls sit cross-legged on the floor, applying make-up and sharing gossip. Boys crowd around the plasma TV, yelling and jeering at a football match that's currently playing onscreen. Quieter students stick to the leather couches in the corners, talking among themselves.

Liv sticks two fingers in her mouth and lets out an almighty whistle. Several heads turn her way, but she's already set her sights on one in particular. "Hey Kale," she calls over to the dark-haired boy standing by the window. "Fancy a game?"