Authors: Gabrielle Lord
October (19 page)
Wearing a pair of grey school pants and a blazer that I’d picked up, I snuck into the chapel. The place was open, but empty. After spending fifteen minutes searching every possible hiding place, I was sure that the contract killer wasn’t there—yet. I crept to the upstairs loft and crouched down beside the organ.
This month had been so full-on, so much had happened, that it felt like a year in itself. My brain was overloading with information. And now I was hiding out in a chapel, waiting for a contract killer to interrupt a wedding between my mum and my uncle! I took a few deep breaths and tried to
concentrate
on what I had to do.
Marjorie and Graham, the next-door neighbours
from our old house in Richmond, were the first guests to arrive, bringing with them an
elaborate
sound system, and small bouquets that they hung on the ends of each pew. From my position, high up in the back of the church, I watched them as they set up the speakers. Good—that meant no organist.
Eventually guests started drifting in and
taking
their seats. There weren’t too many, and most of them I didn’t recognise, apart from a few
people
from Mum’s old work. Boges walked in with his mum and his gran on either arm. He led them towards the front, to the side of the second row. That was the perfect spot to stay out of harm’s way, but to be close enough to help my mum and sister, if they needed it.
Soon everyone was settled, waiting for the bridal pair and Gabbi to turn up. All the time, my eyes were scanning the guests, constantly searching for something—anything—that seemed out of place. Wondering if I’d make it in time to stop someone raising their arm and taking aim.
As I looked along the first three rows of people, everyone looked normal, just like guests at a wedding should. They were seated quietly,
occasionally
turning to each other to say something
in a whisper. How would I know what a contract killer looked like anyway? No doubt they’d have mastered the art of blending in to any group.
They were really late. Everyone in the chapel was getting edgy, and the killer must have been amongst them.
Rafe suddenly walked up the aisle to the altar, alone, wearing a dark suit which I swear was one of my dad’s. I visualised a small, red target on his head. He nodded to Marjorie, who was on standby, near the sound system. The sound of the famous wedding march music reverberated through the chapel as I clutched the canisters of Disappearing Dust and Special FX.
I peered over the top of the railing around the choir loft, and saw Mum walking up the aisle. She looked really thin and frail, and was wearing a pale blue dress that hung limply on her,
accentuating
her tiny frame. Gabbi held Mum’s hand, and was wearing a ring of white flowers on top of her head that she kept adjusting.
Should I throw one now?
I hesitated. I didn’t want to make my move too late, but I also didn’t want to do it prematurely.
As they approached the altar where the celebrant—a friendly-looking woman in a navy
dress—waited, Gabbi pulled away sideways and slid into a pew and I saw Marjorie put an arm around her.
What if, I thought, I’m too late, and the
contract
killer fires his weapon and Rafe falls down—or worse—the killer misses, taking down Mum instead?
Rafe and Mum stood in front of the celebrant near the altar, looking at each other from time to time. The image of them together was making me feel dizzy. I had to focus.
A guy in a suit stood up and joined them,
holding
a cushion with a couple of wedding rings on it.
Now everyone was sitting still, listening to the words of the celebrant. She lifted her head and smiled as she spoke, looking around at the small group in front of her.
‘And now,’ she said, ‘I’m required to ask—’ she cleared her throat and in a louder voice said, ‘if any of you gathered here before me this evening know of any reason why these two persons should not be joined together in holy matrimony, please speak now.’
From nowhere, a man, dressed in a long coat and a hat that hid his face from my view, stepped out of the shadows. Beneath me, this stranger reached in under his coat.
I sprang up and gripped the first capsule of
Disappearing Dust in my fist. ‘Everyone! Look out! There’s a gunman in the church!’
The stranger held a weapon in his hand.
I started racing down the stairs, and hurled the first capsule down into the body of the chapel. A massive cloud of thick, brown smoke erupted. I continued down the staircase, toward the mushrooming cloud.
As I hit the last step and jumped onto the floor, I heard my mum cry above the panicked screams of the fleeing guests. ‘Cal! That’s my son! Cal, where are you?’
I caught a glimpse of Boges briefly looking up in my direction. He’d already pushed his mum and gran out the door, and he had Gabbi’s hand gripped in his.
People were screaming, and tripping over each other as they fought their way out.
Then the dense smoke took over and hid everything from my view. I had no idea where the gunman was. I hoped he couldn’t line up a shot under these conditions.
‘It’s Ormond! He’s here! He’s trying to kill his family!’ I heard someone cry.
I yelled out again. ‘Everyone out of this church! There’s a killer on the premises! Leave now!’
I thought I saw the contract killer’s long coat swirling in the smoke near me, heading for the
exit. Immediately, I lobbed the second capsule of Disappearing Dust up into the loft.
I threw myself out the back door just before the choir loft and the whole of the back wall of the chapel exploded in a supernova of flame and smoke. Boges had warned me it wasn’t quite ready, and he was right about that!
From what I could make out, the chapel had now emptied. I bolted for the door and just made it
outside
as the whole back of the chapel wall collapsed. The timber side walls and parts of the ceiling caught alight, flames and sparks spiralled up in thick plumes of smoke, the back of the roof sagging at an angle, threatening to crash to the ground.
Guests were running clear of the burning building towards their cars, and safety. Among them I spotted Mum and Rafe stumbling along, followed by the celebrant. There was no sign of the gunman.
I had to get away. I’d been identified and already I could hear the sirens. From the direction of the city came the staccato
whoomp, whoomp,
whoomp
of a helicopter.
Behind me, the fire burned furiously, crackling and spitting, with the occasional loud explosion as old timber and paint went up.
As I raced away, I took in my surroundings. Ahead there were suburban streets with houses
on both sides and cars parked along the
tree-lined
kerbs. I needed to get away from this area. There were too many people—too many witnesses. I hoisted my backpack higher on my shoulders, put my head down and started charging along the footpath, glad that the night had well and truly closed in. People emerged from their houses to look back past me to the burning chapel that was lighting up the sky.
The sounds of the helicopter came closer. I was suddenly blinded by a brilliant light.
Desperately I ran faster, trying to get past the circle of light that fell on top of me. I ran and ran, but no matter which way I ducked and weaved, so did the helicopter. It kept right on top of me, following me with its spotlight. Trying to run from it was like trying to shake a shadow—impossible.
I raced under a tree and with eyes that were still dazzled, I saw what lay ahead of me. A huge semicircle of SWAT officers with shields and batons, were charging down the road, coming straight at me.
There was nowhere to run.
The police cars were bearing down on me on the road behind, while in front of me, the SWAT officers were advancing at a lethal rate. I’d saved Rafe from a fatal bullet, but stopping the wedding had put
me
in the line of fire.
I continued to run, squinting, trying to escape the relentless ring of the spotlight on me.