Burnington Gaol

T W E N T Y - S I X | Billy

Billy hoisted his sister up, one of her arms wrapped around his shoulders and the other clutching her stomach. She groaned in pain, wincing with every movement. He pushed through the glass doors to the office, where the two grumpy secretaries barely offered an upward glance.

"Please," Billy said. "She's not well. She seemed okay this morning but now I don't know what's wrong with her."

"Billy, I think I'm going to be sick."

"Put her in sick bay," one of them sighed, as if they were a nuisance. "I'll call the school nurse to come down."

"Thank you."

The lady reached for the telephone and Billy began to lead his sister down the long corridor to the sick room. Half way down the hallway, next to the locked door of the records room, Billy glanced back to see if the coast was clear. He smirked.

"Go to the sick room," he said. "I'll meet you in there."

Addie stood up straight, her eyes sharp and alert, and nodded. She turned away from him, hurrying down the hall.

Billy tried the locked door handle, sunk to his knees with a paperclip. He saw Addie watching him from down the hall, her head sticking out of the room like a curious puppy. He listened closely, trying to move the sharp silver ends in just the right fashion, when he heard a loud, exaggerated cough from down the hall. Addie was warning him, and he looked to see one of the secretaries turning the corner.

Billy jumped to his feet, standing in front of the doorhandle to block the sight of the paperclip jammed inside. The secretary looked up, paused, approached him.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Well, my sister was just, um, having a little personal protein spill and it made me feel a bit queasy, so I had to step out for a moment."

As if on cue, the violent sound of dry-heaving echoed from down the hall. They both looked in Addie's direction, though neither of them could see her.

"Fine," the lady said. "When you return, tell her that the nurse is on her way."

Billy nodded, and the secretary returned to her desk. The second she was out of sight, Billy fell to the floor and jimmied the lock once again. Then, with a metallic click, the door unlocked and Billy got to his feet. He saw Addie peeking at him from down the hall, and he offered her a nod before slipping past the door. It shut quietly behind him, and he turned to look around the room.

Whoever's job it had been to organise this place must have been fired, because among the grey metal shelves lining the walls and the filing cabinet in the corner and the solid oak desk in the centre, there was an eruption of boxes, papers, books, files, and more scattered debris. Billy sighed, looking at the mess. He didn't even know where to start.

He went to the stack of shelves drilled into the wall. He rummaged through them, looking for anything relating to Susie Dawson, but it all seemed to be was paperwork and permission slips. He trudged on, looking through the filing cabinet, in desk drawers, to the discarded papers on the floor, but there was nothing.

A terrible, slow-sinking feeling began to swell in Billy's stomach. It was a feeling of hopelessness, of uselessness, and it made him equally disappointed and infuriated.  Then he spotted a school annual on the floor, hidden amongst the mess. He paused, scooped it up and leaned back on the desk, flipping through the pages. It was all the usual stuff – sporting events, dance concerts, cooking classes from the previous year – but then he spotted something else: a photo of two girls. One was short in stature with shoulder-length red hair, brown eyes, and freckles, and the other was a tall blond with a little too much makeup. They were both smiling, with the blond girl's arm around the redhead. Billy looked at the names: Susan Dawson and Lucy Beaufort.

The doorhandle clicked, piercing the silence – a key turning the lock.

Billy's heart squeezed tightly in his chest and he dropped to the floor, clutching the annual as he buried himself under the oak desk.

"God dammit," he heard somebody say as they tried the lock again.

Billy pulled his legs to his chest and stayed still and silent as the grave. Then the lock turned, the door opened, and a set of heavy footsteps entered the room. He sucked in a final breath and held it there, praying for the man to leave.

The stranger hummed as he walked across the threshold and wandered over to the oak desk. His feet crunched under the piles of junk, humming growing louder and faster with each step. Billy tried to bury himself even further into the foot-space, but his long legs wouldn't come any closer.

The man walked around the desk. Billy saw his legs – ironed trousers and shiny black shoes. Silently, he watched the stranger sit in the desk chair and scoot forward. With the man's large feet, Billy barely fit under the desk.

And then he saw something.

In the dim light, Billy spotted the intricately woven spider web resting just above his tucked-in knees. The spider, which was of enormous size with a sleek, black body, stared intensely at him with countless piercing black eyes.

Billy's chest tightened, his blood running cold.

The thing seemed to look at him in a menacing way, as if he was intruding into its home. Then one of its black, hairy legs moved and Billy flinched, pressing his back into the desk as hard as he could. He looked away from it, shutting his eyes tightly, praying for it to spontaneously drop dead.

Spiders.

The one thing that never failed to terrify Billy.

Billy opened his eyes, glancing at the stranger's legs that were so close to his torso. He turned his head back to the thick, white web.

It was gone.

The spider was gone.

Billy's eyes widened, the fear pounding through him. Where was it? He was trapped between being caught trespassing and being bitten by one of God's most venomous creatures. His eyes darted, trying to see in the dim light.

Then he felt the crawling.

The long, grotesque legs brushing against his shin and those sharp fangs just above his flesh. Billy tilted his head to look, a cold, dead feeling in his gut.

It was on his leg.

And that was all he could take.

Billy launched from his hiding place, flipping the solid oak desk and kicking his legs wildly. The spider fell from his calf muscle and Billy crushed the eight-legged abomination under his heavy school shoes. He looked up, his face red and his eyes wide, at the man sat in the desk chair. Principal Armstrong met his gaze, hands shaking, eyes wide, with a look of utter shock on his face.

And all Billy could do was look back at him.

© A.G. Travers 2018