All of a sudden, someone was shouting. One of the girls who’d been sunbathing yesterday—Yolanda—rushed through the garden. “Greta’s gone! I knew she would. She’s gone!”
Sister Rose ran up to Yolanda, flowers in her arms. “Are you sure? She might be having some quiet time inside somewhere.”
Yolanda grabbed Sister Rose’s arm. “No, listen to me. This morning she kept saying she couldn’t last out the week here. She said she felt like she was dying without her drugs. Without ice. I went looking for her and found a ladder pushed against a tree. I think she climbed the tree and got over the wall.”
Sister Rose looked stricken at the news. “Oh dear. She might have broken a leg jumping down from that wall. And if she tries to get back to the mainland by rowboat, things could go very badly for her. It’s a very long way, and not all of the boats are seaworthy.”
Thrusting the bunch of flowers at a woman nearby, Sister Rose took out a small walkie talkie from her pocket. She called for urgent assistance from the other mentors.
Whirling around then, Sister Rose frantically gestured to everyone. “We need to find her quickly. Would anyone like to help?”
A cranking noise shuddered in the air. The gates were opened by two monks. Everyone who’d been in the garden raced out to the bare, hilly countryside.
“There she is!” boomed Ruth. “Out there in the water.”
Greta was a speck in a tiny boat, rowing out to sea.
“Thank you, Ruth,” said Sister Rose. “It’s all right, everyone, she’s been found. She’ll be safe. We’ll go after her and bring her back safely.”
Brother Sage sprinted out through the gates, stopping beside Sister Rose. She filled him in quickly.
Yolanda ran up to Sister Rose and Brother Sage, her dark skin streaked with tears. “She said she wasn’t strong enough for this. She was right. I’m scared she’ll try to get away again.”
Nodding, Brother Sage sighed deeply. “Thank you for that information, Yolanda. We won’t make her stay. She can return to Germany. It is a shame though.” He turned to the rest of us. “To make up for the loss of Greta, one less person will be eliminated after tonight’s challenge.”
We sat on the hills and watched as the monks took out a large motorboat and caught up with Greta. Leaving the rowboat anchored, they helped Greta on board.
The motorboat sped towards the horizon.
18. I, Inside The Walls
THE KILLING STARTED YOUNG. BEFORE I knew there were others like me. Before I ever knew of the monastery.
I killed a man when I was seven.
Don’t say you don’t remember, Santiago, because I know you do. We were alone in the house.
This was how it happened: Hello? Hello?
Is anyone here?
Bump, bump, bump downstairs. There’s always bumpy monsters down there at night. This time, it must be a big one.
Santiago’s eyes are huge in the darkness.
He’s little as he walks across the bare floor and pokes his head out of our bedroom door.
Don’t go down there, Santiago.
No! I told you no.
“The only way out is to kill things before they kill you,” he tells me.
I shake my head as though I can pull him back to safety just by doing that. “The monster will hurt you.”
He smiles. “Don’t worry. I’m hiding knives under the bed. The knives make me happy. Do they make you happy?”
“No,” I answer quickly. But I’m not sure of that.
The monster downstairs is opening things and shutting them again.
Santiago gives me a nod, and I know what that means. I know exactly what that means.
I help him crawl under the bed and search around for the hard metal of the knife blades. I’ve got dust on my knees and in my hair. I half choke and want to cough, but I stifle it, swallowing instead. My hair and face look white in the dark mirror as we step out into the hallway.
We tiptoe on the stairs.
The monster’s crouching down in the living room. Looking in a cupboard. Making grunts and animal noises.
Santiago pulls me on, my hand in his tight grip.
The monster doesn’t hear us.
Santiago makes the first stab, right in the monster’s back. The monster jolts, cries out.
I make the second stab as he spins out. In his neck.
The monster looks angry, half crazed. He knocks me to the ground.
But Santiago hands me another knife, and I slash the monster’s knee. Slash, slash, slash. The monster stumbles and falls, and it’s too late for him now.
Santiago and I stab him and stab him until he stops moving.