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London Belongs to the Alchemist (Class Heroes Book 4) Page 4
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Page 4
Sam scanned the crowd, but it was still a confusing mass of people, flickering lights, a sea of faces and fights breaking out.
The muscle man, recovered from his confrontation with Sam, reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders. A moment later, he lost his grip and Sam saw the guy flying forward across the crowd like the king of all stage divers until he was caught by welcoming hands and then sucked out of sight into a heaving mass of bodies.
Sam looked back at James. He gave her a wink. He had used his telekinetic power to propel the muscle man out of the way. Ordinarily neither Sam nor her brother would use their power so publicly for fear of exposure. However, in this environment, where people were taking Super D and were high on who-knew-what, it hardly seemed to matter.
Then James got excited and started pointing. Sam turned to see what he was looking at. Steve had been lifted up onto somebody’s shoulders halfway back along the room. He was waving manically. Then he dropped from those shoulders and disappeared back into the sea of bodies. Sam spotted Nina next to him. She was propped up by some guy, but even from this distance Sam could tell that she was high.
“They’re totally off their nut!” James shouted in Sam’s ear.
Which might make getting them home a lot easier, considered Sam. She tried to think straight but the pounding music and the roar of the mob made it impossible.
Two records were playing on the decks in front of her. Sam lifted the needles off both vinyls, leaving only the roar of the crowd and finally the audible sounds of somebody shouting through a megaphone outside.
“What you doing, you crazy girl?” protested the DJ, reaching out for the record decks. Sam grabbed both his hands in a steely grip.
“Where did you get Super D from?” she demanded.
“What?”
“Super D. The drug that you’ve been putting in the drinks to make people stronger. Where did you get it?”
“I ain’t telling you. Let me go.” The DJ tried pulling his hands away but Sam had no intention of releasing him.
She was in a quandary. She wasn’t going to hurt or even threaten the boy, but she needed to know where the drug had come from.
“It’s dangerous,” she said, changing tack. “Look at what it’s done to all these people.” She nodded at the orgy of destruction and carnage that had overtaken the party.
“I’m just setting them free,” retorted the DJ, impassioned. “We got nothing. This country is dead. What we got, the politicians take from us. So we’re just doing our own thing. I thought you was one of us!”
Before Sam could digest his response or form one of her own, there was a new commotion at the back of the room. James grabbed Sam’s arm and she looked up.
The police had stormed the party.
Chapter 6
Sam counted a dozen or more officers crashing into the large hall, leading with their riot shields. The woman with the megaphone was shouting at people to disperse peacefully. The response to her request was a hail of missiles and jeers.
Seconds later and the mob charged the police. Sam didn’t want to look.
If that wasn’t bad enough, the revellers nearest the stage were shouting angrily at her. Clearly they held her responsible for breaking up the party. Several started climbing on to the stage to reach her.
James came to the rescue. The first man to clamber over the line of speakers was propelled backwards by a telekinetic force. A second man tried to do the same with an identical result. Two large speakers started moving by themselves to completely shut off access to the stage, and anyone who tried to scale the barrier suddenly found themselves pushed back.
Sam and her brother were under siege.
This was going to be carnage and, for all her strength and power, there was nothing she could do to break up the fight. Or was there? The one thing that might get everyone out was a fire, but that was terribly risky. She would have to control it very carefully to stop anyone getting burned, and then there was the problem of people being crushed in the panic. She reasoned that fewer people would be hurt that way than if the fight was allowed to continue.
“James, make sure you get Nina and Steve,” shouted Sam.
Her brother gave her a questioning look but he nodded anyway. Sam concentrated. She placed her hands by her sides and conjured up a ball of bright orange flame in each.
She saw DJ Alchemy go wide-eyed in amazement as he staggered back, tripped over a cable and fell to the floor.
Sam couldn’t resist giving him a cheeky wink, thrilled at her own daring and slightly scared in case somehow the boy ever found out her name.
She threw her arms into the air, in much the same way that the revellers themselves had been doing only minutes earlier. The fireballs left her hands and flew up to the ceiling, where they exploded, multiplied and spread.
Concentrating, Sam followed it up with a constant stream of fire that smothered the ceiling, travelling in a wave down the length of the room.
The shouts and roar of battle suddenly transformed into screams of panic. The scuffles between the police officers and the partygoers stalled and a brief calm descended on the front line, before the yelling began.
The woman with the megaphone was quick to organize her team. There were two separate doors at the far end of the room where the police officers had entered, and they were now ushering people through them as quickly as possible.
Sam maintained the fire billowing around the scaffolding.
Where revellers were hurt, dazed, or just too out of it to walk, they were picked up and carried by police and other partygoers.
Steve Roadhouse was one of those people left on the floor, except he wasn’t unconscious, he was just lying on his back bizarrely bicycling his feet in the air. Whatever he had taken had clearly sent him off-planet. Nina Palmer was next to him, but she was vomiting and choking, totally incapacitated.
“Get Nina and Steve home, then come back for me,” Sam shouted to James, trying to maintain her concentration on controlling the fire.
James shimmered and disappeared. He materialized next to Nina and Steve, took one in each arm, and then all three of them vanished.
Sam turned her attention to the DJ, only to discover he had gone. He had left a disc on the turntable, though. Michael Jackson’s Beat It was suddenly playing through the speakers. Sam looked behind the stage and saw the DJ disappearing through the door of, ironically, a fire exit.
Sam relaxed and stopped generating fire. Without her influence to propagate it, and with nothing in the room to actually burn, the flames quickly petered out.
Now she could get after DJ Alchemy. As she climbed off the back of the stage and headed for the door, she looked over her shoulder. Several officers were pushing their way forward through the dwindling mob. As she was up on the stage, they had probably figured her to be the organizer, and no doubt they had a few questions relating to the fire!
I knew it, thought Sam. I knew I’d be the one to get caught.
She ran through the exit doors and was faced with a choice of stairs leading down or another set leading up. She stopped and listened. He would have run down the stairs, wouldn’t he?
She could hear a clattering of feet. She peered over the handrail to see if she could spot him. Nothing. She looked up. A glimpse of leg; of arm; a head. Judging by the speed he was moving, the DJ had definitely taken Super D.
Sam started bounding up the stairs after him.
***
It was a tall building. Why was he going up, not down? Because of the police, perhaps? The party had been on the second floor. Sam guessed there must be about 14 storeys in total. The boy was fast, but she was faster, and by the time he had reached the top floor she was only just behind him.
Looking over his shoulder, the boy panicked as he realized how close she was. He ran straight at the fire door ahead of him and shoulder-charged it off its hinges. He stumbled, righted himself and kept going. Another door up ahead. He crashed through that too, falling to the floor this
time. He tried to pick himself up and tripped again.
They were outside now, on the roof of the building. Sam stopped running. She was standing over the DJ. He was actually laughing, through sharp intakes of breath.
“Wow, girl. You are some kind of awesome chick,” he said, alternately looking at her and turning his head from side to side to try and get his bearings.
“I know,” said Sam.
“And it’s not Super D that let you do that thing with the fire,” he panted, getting to his feet, but backing away from Sam. She followed him slowly.
“Look,” he protested, putting his hands up. “We both got to get out of here. The filth are all over the building. Cute thing like you don’t wanna get arrested,” he wooed, smiling in what Sam was forced to admit was a charming manner.
“Just tell me where you got the Super D from,” Sam ordered, keeping her voice cool.
“Hey, you’re not fooling me, girl,” said DJ Alchemy, but he kept backing away. “Admit it, you’d like to come with me. What’s your number?”
“What?” asked Sam, caught off guard.
“Your phone number. I want to see you again. This has been a pretty cool first date, hasn’t it?”
“Date?” Sam was gobsmacked.
“I want to tell you all about it, but I got to get away from the filth now. What’s your number? I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“No,” said Sam, wavering.
“Too soon? You think I’m too keen? I’m worth it, I promise.” He was mocking her again, but Sam was enjoying it despite herself.
“No,” she said again, automatically. She wasn’t going to give out her number to any passing boy, let alone under these circumstances.
“I will tell you everything, I promise,” said DJ Alchemy, winningly. “And I want to see you again. You’re a knockout.”
Sam heard herself giving the boy her telephone number, not quite sure why and not quite sure if it really was her own voice. She felt slightly weak.
“I’ll call you,” the boy pledged, and mimed the action of holding a phone up to his mouth and ear.
“Ok,” said Sam, feeling stupid. “But…” She didn’t finish her sentence.
DJ Alchemy had been backing away until he’d reached the edge of the building. He hopped up onto the ledge, blew Sam a kiss and then jumped off the wall.
Sam hurried over to the ledge and was relieved to see that his incredible leap had enabled him to miss the concrete, vehicles and police officers below and land in the Thames with a splash.
He disappeared under a belch of foaming water and then his head and arms emerged. Police officers dashed to the river bank and pointed torches at the boy as he lay on his back in the water. DJ Alchemy gave Sam a wave, which looked funny as it was a glowing skeleton hand. Then he started swimming in the direction of Tower Bridge, strong, powerful strokes, faster than any Olympic athlete. Sam watched him go for another few seconds, and then her phone started ringing. It was James.
“Where are you? Come and get me,” said Sam, impatiently. It would only be a matter of time before the police caught up with her on the roof.
“Where are you?” asked James.
Of course, she had told James to collect her from the big room now full of police officers.
“I’m on the roof. Get up here now.”
“I can’t,” said James.
“Why?”
“Because I’ve never been there, have I?” pointed out James.
How stupid of her. In the heat of the moment, Sam had forgotten that James could only teleport to a location that he’d previously visited. He had tried to explain the limitation to her many times. ‘It’d be like trying to describe a place that you’ve never seen,’ he would say.
“You idiot,” snapped Sam, but she was angry with herself.
She hurried back to the fire door. She could hear footsteps, lots of them, clattering up the stairwell. She could see bright yellow jackets several floors down. No escape via the stairs, then.
She really didn’t want to follow DJ Alchemy into the Thames, but it might come to that. How would she ever explain that one away to Dad? ‘Doh. Sorry Dad. I fell into a big puddle.’
“I can’t get down. The police are on their way up the stairs. What am I going to do?” she asked James, still on the phone.
“I’m round the side of the building. So as you face the river, I’m on the right-hand side. Opposite street to the one we came in on. There’s nobody here. Come see.”
There were at least three officers only two levels below her, closing in fast.
Sam sprinted to the ledge and peered into the alleyway below. It was pitch black and she couldn’t see her brother, although there was a tiny pinprick of light which could be his phone.
“I can see you,” said the crackly voice through the receiver.
“I can’t see anything,” replied Sam. “Wave your phone around.”
In response, she saw the pinprick of light dance around in figures of eight.
“You’re going to have to jump,” said James.
“What? Are you stupid? Even I might not survive a fall from here. And even if I do, my legs will take ages to heal.”
“I’ll catch you,” promised James. “I’ll use my telekinesis to slow you down. I’ve done it before.”
“Are you sure?” asked Sam, unable to keep the panic out of her voice.
“I promise. At the very least I’ll rescue your purse and your phone.”
“Very funny!” she snapped. James and his stupid jokes really got on her nerves.
“Hurry. On the count of three, jump, and I promise you it’ll be like jumping into a swimming pool, but without the splash. Or the floating poo.”
Sam looked over her shoulder. Three policemen crashed through the broken fire door and looked around them. They spotted Sam.
“Hey. Stop there. Don’t move,” shouted one officer.
Sam took a deep breath. If her brother didn’t catch her, she’d kill him. Eventually.
“Three,” shouted Sam into her phone, vaulted over the ledge of the building and closed her eyes.
Chapter 7
Sam felt the air pushed so hard up into her mouth and nose that it hit her lungs with such force that she couldn’t breathe. Her hair was streaming, her arms flailing, her legs kicking and she felt totally powerless. She screamed.
She forced her eyes open but there was only blackness. Was it her imagination or was the air pressure on her body lessening? Being totally blind, it was a completely disorientating experience, but she felt as though she was drifting rather than plummeting. Before she could properly focus, her whole body jolted as her feet hit something hard and her knees buckled. Sam pitched forward, but two hands grabbed hold of her under the elbows and steadied her.
She blinked twice and saw, in the faint light of an LED screen, the face of her brother, grinning from ear to ear.
“Taxi for Blake?”
Sam laughed, mainly through hysteria.
“OMG. That was horrible.” She took a deep breath and was able to stand on her own two feet without support. “Can I do it again?”
James laughed.
Suddenly Sam panicked.
“My phone,” she said, suddenly realizing that she had been holding it when she jumped, and she wasn’t holding it now.
James gave her a smug look, held out his hand, and Sam’s phone dropped neatly into his palm. “You’re such a show off,” she berated him, but took it gratefully.
She looked up. She could see the police officers looking over the ledge. What must they be thinking?
“Time to go,” said James, putting his phone in his pocket. “It’s quarter past ten. We’ve got to be back for Dad and pretend none of this has happened.”
Sam nodded. She held out her hand for him to hold it. This was the bit she hated. Not just holding her brother’s hand, but the sensation of being teleported. She closed her eyes and there was a feeling like she’d been given a static shock, her stomach lurc
hed, and all of a sudden the sounds were different and the air smelled of vegetation rather than the salty twang of the Thames.
Sam opened her eyes.
She could hear music. Not pounding drum ‘n’ bass, but the faint sound of One Direction, and a muted chorus of kids singing along. She bumped her head on something. It was the protective glass dome of the bike rack, which ran along the brick wall surrounding the school. A canopy of trees overlooked the bike rack, which conveniently provided lots of natural cover for any couple making out, and less commonly for people teleporting in secret. Sam looked around her. Nobody else but James around. She breathed a sigh of relief.
“That was so close,” she sighed. “Thank you, that was really clever.”
“Thanks,” said James. Sam seethed. He could have complimented her on her own cleverness in breaking up the fight.
She stepped out from behind the bike rack and into the floodlit area of the playground.
“Behind the bike sheds with my own sister,” muttered James. “That’s 50 shades of wrong right there.”
Sam ignored him. They had to get back into the gym so that she could go to the toilets, do something with her hair and smarten herself up, and then get back outside ready to meet Dad.
Together they hurried across the playground back to the party.
***
Dad was waiting outside in his big silver car when Sam and James nonchalantly left the party ten minutes later. Sam pushed James out of the way so she could get in the front this time. Reluctantly, James opened the rear door and settled behind Sam. She could feel him deliberately pushing his knee into the seat so it dug into her back.
“How was it? Good fun?” asked Dad.
“Great, thanks,” said Sam, feeling awful about lying. She couldn’t look Dad in the eye, so she busied herself with putting her seatbelt on and doing her hair in the vanity mirror. She suddenly became aware that the car wasn’t moving.