The only reason the four Neanderthals don’t catch me right away is that they are completely caught off guard. Two seconds of bewilderment are enough for me to scramble up, open the opposite door, and throw myself through it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Barney move first. I knew that his relaxed posture was just a ruse. I feel the air tug at my legs, but it’s too little, too late. I’m out. And then there’s only one thing left to do: run.
I race around the first corner into a dark, empty corridor. Where is everyone? Where are all the security guards when you need them? And where’s Williams?
Behind me, I hear the Flintstones beginning their pursuit, but with the head start I've got, I think I can outrun them. I just need to find...
WWWOOOOSSSSH!
Something big flies past my head, so close I feel the air shift. Seconds later, a classroom door crashes violently against the wall in front of me. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Betty ripping another door out of the wall, frame and all, without breaking a sweat. What the hell? She positions it in front of Wilma, and without any visible cause, the door accelerates toward me at full speed.
The corridor should be empty, but it isn’t. It’s packed with people and not the kind you would expect in a school after closing time. Everyone is dressed in old clothes, or more precisely, the clothes are brand new, but they don’t belong to this century. It feels like I’ve stumbled onto a King Arthur film set. The atmosphere is lively. Men in ornate costumes slap each other jovially on the back, laughing hard and loud. Women in long, beautiful gowns giggle and whisper behind their hands. Goblets overflowing with red wine and mugs filled with beer are raised, clinked together three, four, five times, and then emptied in one gulp. Dogs scurry between legs, searching for food. The air is thick with the smell of burning fires and roasted meat.
I stand rooted to the spot, but when I hear the voices of the Flintstones approaching, I realize that lingering here will be fatal. “I can’t hear her footsteps anymore!” shrieks Wilma’s shrill voice. “We have her!” Shit, I have to move and reach the other end of the corridor. I start pushing forward, but it’s hopeless. The corridor is too crowded, and the Flintstones are too close. There’s only one thing I can do, the only thing I know: fight. I stop and turn around to face them head-on, but when the four older students come barreling around the corner, they stop just as abruptly as I did.
“WHERE IS SHE?! WHERE THE FUCK HAS SHE GONE?!” Fred’s spittle flies as he shouts. The other three look flabbergasted right through me. “She can’t be gone, it’s impossible,” Barney stammers.
“THEN TELL ME, WHY IS THIS CORRIDOR COMPLETELY DESERTED?!” Empty? I think. It’s packed with knights, ladies, servants, dogs… and me, just 10 meters away. “It’s this school,” Betty growls, a glint of panic in her eyes. “This school is evil.”
“Of course it is, but up until now, that’s always worked in our favor, like she promised,” Fred snarls.
“Did the vice-principal betray us?” Wilma asks sharply. This is the first time Fred doesn’t ignore her.
“That would make no sense. She wants that list, right? We are her best bet.”
“Exactly, that little shrimp is capable of nothing,” Barney adds, trying to regain some of his bravado.
“NOTHING?! Did she slip past you on her way to the vice-principal’s office a week ago because she’s capable of NOTHING? Did you have your hands wrapped in bandages because she can do NOTHING? What does that say about you, Wayne?”
I don’t even register Barney’s feeble response. My anger flares up at the word “shrimp”. Who does this primitive heap of muscles think he is?
For once, my rising temper seems to be an advantage as it clears my head and helps me snap back into action mode. Never mind why they can’t see me; the fact is they don’t, so maybe there’s still a chance I can get away before everything returns to normal.
I slowly push and wiggle my way backward through the clumped together party guests, keeping my eyes fixed on the Flintstones, who are now engaged in an argument that’s quickly escalating. Only when I finally reach the corner and turn it, still facing the Flintstones, I allow myself to rest for a moment against the wall and take a deep breath. That was too close—way too close. I must keep moving. But when I finally turn around and look down the new corridor, I realize that I’m in even deeper shit than I already thought.