Night School.

Legacy.

C. J. Daugherty.

To Jack.

My navigator.

One for sorrow.

Two for joy Three for a girl.

Four for a boy.

Five for silver Six for gold.

Seven for a secret.

Never to be told..

Untitled, Old English Nursery Rhyme.

ONE.

'Isabelle, I need help!'

Crouching in the dark, Allie whispered urgently into her phone.

For less than a minute she listened to the voice on the other end of the line. Occasionally she nodded, her dark hair swinging. When the voice stopped she fumbled with the phone, snapping off the back to remove the battery. Then she yanked out the SIM card and ground it into the dirt with her heel.

Scaling the low brick wall around the tiny square of London garden in which she hid, almost invisible in the moonless night, she ran down the empty street, slowing only long enough to drop the hollow phone into an open rubbish bin. A few streets away, she threw the battery over a tall fence into somebody's garden.

Then she heard something above the sound of her own feet pounding on the pavement. Ducking behind a white van parked on the side of the road, she held her breath and listened.

Footsteps.

Her eyes darted around the quiet residential street lined with terraces of homes, but it offered few hiding places. She could hear her pursuer running she didn't have much time.

Dropping to the ground, Allie wriggled her way under the van. The smell of asphalt and oil filled her nostrils. Her cheek rested on the rough tarmac, cold and damp from a rainstorm earlier that day.

She listened hard, willing her heartbeat to quiet.

The footsteps grew closer and closer. When they reached the van, she stopped breathing. But without slowing they passed her hiding place.

She felt a rush of relief.

Then the footsteps stopped.

All sound seemed to be sucked from the air and for a moment Allie could hear nothing at all. Then a muffled curse made her flinch.

After a moment she heard a quiet male voice whispering. 'It's me. I lost her.' A pause then, defensively, 'I know, I know ... Look, she's fast and, like you said, she knows this area.' Another pause. 'I'm on ...' his feet shuffled as he moved to look '... Croxted Street. I'll wait here.'

The silence that followed stretched on for so long Allie began to wonder if he'd somehow tiptoed away without her hearing. She never heard him move once.

Just as her muscles began to ache from lying so still, a sound made her spine tingle.

More footsteps.

These rang out crisply in the cool night air.

As they neared her hiding place the hairs on her arms stood up. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears. Her palms were slick with sweat.

Calm, she thought fiercely. Stay calm.

She practised the breathing techniques Carter had taught her over the summer focusing on slow breaths in and out helped stave off the panic attacks that would otherwise be uncontrollable.

Three breaths in, two breaths out.

'Where'd you see her last?' The low, menacing voice drifted above her as she breathed quietly.

'About two streets back,' the original voice replied. She could hear the rustling sound his jacket made when he pointed.

'She probably turned off somewhere or ducked into a garden. Let's backtrack. And check behind the bins she's not very big. She could hide behind them.' He sighed. 'Nathaniel's not gonna like it if we lose her. You heard what he said. So let's not, shall we?'

'She's fast as hell,' the first man said, sounding nervous.

'Yeah, but we knew that already. You take that side of the street. I'll take this one.'

Their footsteps moved away. Allie didn't budge until the sound had completely disappeared. Even then she counted to fifty before carefully slipping out from beneath the van. When she was on her feet, she hid between cars and looked as far as she could see in every direction.

No sign of them.

Hoping she was headed the right way, she ran, faster this time.

When things were normal she loved to run, and even now her feet automatically adopted a smooth, easy rhythm. Her breathing steadied as she moved.

But things were not normal. She fought the urge to look over her shoulder, knowing that tripping and injuring herself could mean discovery. And who knew what might happen then?

In the dark the houses flew by as if they were moving, rather than her. It was late the street was quiet.

Motion detector sensors became her enemy; if she ran on the pavement porch lights clicked on as she passed them simultaneously blinding and exposing her. So she kept to the middle of the street, although there the street lights harshly illuminated her.

Suddenly the street ended at a junction and Allie skidded to a stop, panting as she looked up at the signs.

Foxborough Road. What did Isabelle say? She rubbed her forehead as she tried to remember.

She said left on Foxborough, she decided after a moment. Then right on the High Street. But she wasn't certain. Everything had happened so fast.

As soon she turned left, though, she saw ahead the bright lights of the High Street and she knew she'd been right. But even as she ran towards them she wondered whether the presence of the taxicabs, buses and lorries rumbling down the road meant she was safer. She was out in the open now.

Without slowing, she powered right down the High Street looking for the place Isabelle had told her about.

There! At the garishly decorated sandwich shop on the corner Allie veered right and found the little alleyway where the headmistress had told her to wait. Without looking back, she dashed into the shadows between two massive metal rubbish bins.

Leaning back against the wall, she paused to catch her breath. Her hair hung into her eyes, clinging to the sweat on her face, and she shoved it back absently as she wrinkled her nose.

What the hell is that smell?

The bins reeked but there was also some other awful stench around that she really didn't want to think about. Focusing on her rescue, she kept an eye on the entrance to the alley. Isabelle had said she wouldn't have to wait long.

But as the minutes ticked by she grew impatient. Even here in the dark she felt too exposed. Too easily discovered.

If I were looking for me, this would be one of the first places I'd look, she thought.

Frowning, she chewed her thumbnail absently, until a strange shuffling sound drew her attention. Glancing down, she saw a discarded sandwich box moving by itself. At first she couldn't register what she was seeing then her mouth opened in startled astonishment as the box crept slowly towards her from the far side of the alley. Only when it moved into a pool of light did she see the thin, prehensile tail dragging the ground behind it.

Allie covered her mouth with her hands to stifle a scream.

She was crouching in a rats' nest.

She looked around desperately but there was no place to go. As the sandwich box made its uneven way towards her, she could feel her heart flutter with fear and she struggled to stay still. She had to remain hidden.

But when the rat-box bumped against her left foot it was too much she tore out of the alley as if she'd been scalded. When she stopped, she found herself back on the street with absolutely no idea of what to do now.

At that moment a sleek, black car skidded to a stop in front of her. Before Allie could react, a tall man leapt out of the driver's side door and whirled to face her, all in one smooth move.

'Allie! Quick! Get in the car.'

She stared at him in astonishment. Isabelle had told her she'd send people to help. She hadn't said 'I'll send one guy in a posh car.' He looked very much like the men who'd chased her earlier he wore an expensive-looking suit and his dark hair was cropped short.

Allie raised her chin stubbornly.

No way am I getting in that car.

But as she turned to flee two figures appeared out of the darkness on Foxborough Road. They were running straight for her.

She was trapped.

Looking back at the man with the sleek car she saw that he was watching her worriedly. He'd left the car running and it purred like a tiger, spotting its prey. As she took a hesitant step away from him, he stretched out his right arm, his hand turned sideways. He spoke rapidly and without punctuation.

'Allie my name is Raj Patel I'm Rachel's dad Isabelle sent me to get you please get in the car as fast as you can.'

Allie froze. Rachel was one of her best friends. Isabelle was the headmistress at Cimmeria Academy.

If he was telling the truth, she was safe with him.

With only seconds to make up her mind, she searched for a sign to tell her what to do. Any indication that he was who he said he was.

His extended hand was steady; he had Rachel's eyes.

'You do not want those men to catch you, Allie,' he said. 'Please get in the car.'

Something in his voice told her he was telling the truth. As if he'd said the magic words that somehow made her function Allie sprang towards him, scrabbling at the car's unfamiliar door handle and then leaping in. She was still reaching for her seat belt when the car took off.

By the time the catch clicked into place they were doing sixty miles an hour.

TWO.

The thing was, the night had started out so well.

Allie had gone out with her old friends Mark and Harry for the first time in months. These were the guys she'd hung out with back when she was always getting into trouble she and Mark had been arrested together just a few months ago.

Her parents loathed them both, so she'd expected a bit of pushback when she announced her plans for the evening. But they hadn't appeared cross at all.

Her mother said only, 'Be in by midnight, please.' And that was that.

Ever since she'd come home from Cimmeria Academy that summer they'd treated her differently. With respect.

It felt weird to go out without a row.

Weirder still was going back to the park where they used to hang out together every night to find Mark and Harry still swinging on the exercise bars in the dark like overgrown children.

'You lot need to get a job,' she said, striding through the gate.

'Allie!' they'd roared, running across the dark playground to her.

She was so happy to see them she couldn't stop smiling. And they'd seemed thrilled to see her again pounding her on the back and shoving a can of lukewarm cider into her hand. But once they'd settled down, the two boys on the swings and Allie perched at the top of the slide, the conversation lagged. All they talked about was skiving school, sneaking on to the railway lines to tag, nicking stuff from Foot Locker. The same things they always talked about.

Only now it seemed ...