Doctor Who_ Warchild - Andrew Cartmel [125]
Now this kid saw the suntanned girl suddenly ditch any notion of panty removal after that long tantalizing wait. And he saw Ricky sweeping past, obviously the cause of this disappointment.
So he lunged out of the alcove and caught up with Ricky in a few swift strides. Ricky wasn’t aware of his presence until the kid grabbed his shoulder. Ricky’s expression as the kid spun him around was one of surprise rather than fear. The kid was throwing back his arm, getting ready to punch Ricky.
He never got to throw the punch.
Wolf Leemark was on the kid with such brutal speed that the others hardly saw him move. He dragged the kid away from Ricky before he could disturb one hair on Ricky’s head.
Then he slammed the kid to the ground and began to stomp him savagely. The kid was caught between the bank of lockers and Wolf, rolling back and forth in a desperate effort to avoid Wolfs steel-capped boots. He was clutching his head, trying to protect his face, when the blows suddenly stopped.
Wolf had stopped kicking the kid. He’d stopped because Ricky had gone up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
So Wolf ceased stomping the kid and turned to look at Ricky.
And he gave a little involuntary nod of the head.
No one missed it. It was a tiny gesture but crucial. It was an acknowledgement of leadership.
Everyone was looking at Ricky again.
Wolf and the Wolf Pack were looking at him, like troops waiting for orders from their general.
Ricky felt the mood of the crowd change towards him.
Before it had been like a stream with conflicting currents.
Wolf Leemark had exerted a behavioural influence of his own. That was gone now. The pecking order of the school had changed. If the kids looked up to Wolf or the Wolf Pack now they would see the gang themselves looking further up the behavioural ladder towards Ricky.
Now the mood of the school was all flowing powerfully in a single direction. Flowing in the direction of Ricky.
Ricky moved away from the library as fast as he could.
He avoided eye contact all the way. He turned into the stair-well and went back up the stairs.
Sad Girl was sitting at the top of the stairs as he hurried up them. He tried to avoid looking at her. It wasn’t easy. Sad Girl was looking directly at Ricky, all shyness gone.
She was looking right at him and smiling. She had a lovely smile.
Ricky loped up the stairs and back to his locker. He opened it and ripped down the envelope full of money. He grabbed his jacket, slammed the locker and ran.
Ran out of the front door of the school, the muscles of his legs bending with rubbery limberness.
Ricky wondered what Mr Pangbourne would think of him now.
While he’d read the speech he had imagined Mr Pangbourne being proud of him. That was one way he’d got through the ordeal of standing on the stage in front of the whole school.
But what would Pangbourne think now? Ricky was running. He was turning his back on his problems, on his whole life, and simply fleeing. Did this make him a coward?
Ricky didn’t know. He just knew he couldn’t take any more.
It wasn’t too bad once he was out of school. Travelling downtown he encountered a few crowds, but nothing like the school when all the kids had been hurrying to their classes.
The worst part was when he had to catch the bus.
He boarded the city bus with a group of white-collar commuters on their way to work. Climbing on to the bus he’d been packed in so densely with them that he felt the crowd begin to respond to him.
The tense commuters had begun to shift uneasily all around him. Lost in the glumness of their routine journey to boring jobs, all they were really aware of was some additional irritant on the crowded bus. The whole bus stirred bad-temperedly, then gradually settled down as Ricky buried himself away on a corner seat and kept his face turned rigidly to stare out of the window for the full journey. His neck ached by the time he disembarked downtown, hurrying to the train terminus.
Ricky bought the most expensive one-way