The Treatment: the gripping twist-filled YA thriller from the million copy Sunday Times bestselling author of The Escape. C.L. Taylor
he’s so weird. Sorry.’ I pull a face. ‘I know he’s your boyfriend but he’s … creepy. How can they not see that?’
Zed rubs the back of her neck. ‘I think they see what they want to see – their son doing what he’s told for a change. He doesn’t answer them back; he doesn’t stay out late. He’s perfect, as far as they’re concerned. His dad keeps going on about how proud he is that Charlie’s got his priorities straight at last and how relieved he is that he’s decided on a career instead of claiming he’s going to sign on as soon as he leaves school.’
I groan loudly. Make This Country Great. Contribute to Society. A Safe Land for Hardworking People. All buzzwords of the new Government. I hate that our parents voted them in. It’s our future they’ve screwed up and we don’t even get a say in it.
‘What about Charlie’s friends?’ I ask. ‘Surely they’ve noticed a difference.’
‘Of course. They tried to snap him out of it too but they’ve given up on him now. They think he’s a total killjoy. If he’s bothered by the fact they don’t call or message him any more he doesn’t show it. In fact, he’s really sniffy about the whole skate scene now. He acts like he’s really superior to everyone. If I remind him what he used to be like he says, “I was a waste of space, Evie. I’m just lucky I was given the opportunity to turn my life around.”’
It’s doing my head in, everything that Zed is telling me. I feel like my brain is melting. The RRA woman Mum spoke to on the phone told her that Mason had just been moved to pre-treatment. That means he could be ‘treated’ at any time. For all I know it could be tomorrow. Or he might be there already. I can’t let them do to him what they did to Charlie. I just can’t.
‘Zed,’ I say softly, as I angle her away from Charlie’s strange, staring gaze. ‘I’m going to need your help.’
I have to wait until morning break before I can use the school library. I head for the bookshelves first, filling my arms with as many psychology books as I can find that cover brainwashing, mind control, behavioural issues and therapeutic practices. A lot of them look a bit too basic but I haven’t got time to go to the library in town. As soon as Mum and Tony find out what I’m planning they won’t let me out of their sight. When I’ve got all the books I need I log onto one of the school computers. We’ve only got one printer at home and it’s in Tony’s office. I can connect to it from my laptop but I can’t risk him discovering what I’m up to. Last night Zed told me everything she knows about the RRA, including where it is. It’s a large Victorian mansion called Norton House, formerly a psychiatric hospital, on the Northumberland coast. The sea is on one side and acres and acres of countryside are on the other. It’s remote and you can only reach it by car or boat. Zed reckons it would take at least an hour and a half in a taxi to get there from Newcastle upon Tyne train station.
I found out some interesting things about Norton House when I was Googling last night. Very interesting inde–
‘What’s this?’ A hand snatches my computer printout as I reach for it. Lacey. What the hell is she doing in the library? She never comes in here, ever. She must’ve been looking for me. I glance around, looking for her sheep. They can’t ambush me here, not when Mrs Wilson the librarian is sitting at her desk and there’s at least half a dozen kids milling about. But there’s no sign of her little flock. Lacey is totally alone.
‘You’re not the only one who is allowed to use the library, Drew,’ she says as though she’s read my thoughts. ‘I need to finish my English course work and –’ She peers at the printout in her hand. ‘What’s this? I didn’t know you did design and technology.’
I try to snatch it back but she whips it away and holds it high above my head. Mrs Wilson glances over, disturbed by the noise.
‘Sorry!’ Lacey giggles, as she presses a finger to her lips. ‘We’ll try and keep it down. Won’t we, Andrew?’
Mrs Wilson looks away again, reassured by Lacey’s fake smile and her stupid, sing-song voice.
‘Lacey,’ I say quietly. ‘Just give it back to me.’
She shakes her head. ‘Not until you tell me what it is.’
‘Don’t do this. Not now.’
‘Why not?’
I take a deep breath in through my nose and exhale heavily. I need to keep calm. I swivel round in my chair and press Control P on the keyboard. If Lacey won’t give me my map back I’ll print out another one.
‘What are you up to, Andrew?’ Lacey presses her body up against mine as she peers at the screen. The printer beside me makes a chugging noise and I reach out a hand to grab the second printout. But it’s not the paper Lacey’s interested in. Click, click. She grabs the mouse and swaps one tab for the next. The first website I was looking at flashes up on the screen.
‘Oh my God,’ she breathes. ‘It’s that reform academy that Aoife and Freya Rotheram were sent to. The one up north. Didn’t your brother get sent there too?’
‘Lacey, go away.’ I grab the printout with one hand and shove her away from me with the other.
‘Oh my God!’ Her jaw drops as she stares at me. ‘I know what you’re doing. I know what the printout is. It’s a map. It’s some kind of tunnel system under the school. You’re going to try and help your brother break out. Hey, Mrs Wilson, did you know that —’
‘No!’ My chair crashes to the floor as I stand up quickly. She can’t do this.
‘Lacey.’ I keep my voice down as I step towards her. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Don’t I?’ Her blue eyes glitter as she smiles at me. ‘Why are you freaking out then?’
The room has fallen completely silent. Everyone is watching us. They’re waiting to see how this plays out.
‘Lacey,’ I say. ‘Don’t go there.’
‘You threatening me, Andrew?’ Her top lip tightens into a sneer. I used to think Lacey was beautiful, the prettiest girl in our year with her long, shiny black hair and her bright blue eyes but I’ve never seen anyone as ugly as the girl standing in front of me now.
‘Girls!’ Miss Wilson stands up and places her hands on her desk. ‘Is everything OK?’
‘If you tell her,’ I hiss, ‘I’ll tell Jake Stone to drop you.’
Her eyebrows shoot up in alarm. ‘How do you know about Jake?’
‘I know about everything.’
‘Liar. You’ve been eavesdropping, you little troll. Anyway, Jake wouldn’t listen to you. No one listens to you. Even your own parents think you’re a drama queen. What was it your dad said in mediation? Drew can be a little highly strung.’
‘Tony’s not my dad.’
‘Girls!’ Miss Wilson rams her desk and crosses the library towards us. A couple more strides and she’ll be able to hear every word we’re saying.
Lacey flicks her hair away from her face. ‘My mistake, Drew. Your real dad was a nut job, like you. Maybe you should kill yourself like he did.’
Before I know what I’m doing my clenched fist arcs through the air and smashes against Lacey’s cheekbone. There’s a terrible crunching sound, of bone on bone, then she stumbles backwards. She falls, as though in slow motion, one hand reaching for me, the other curling towards her face. Smash! The back of her head smacks against library carpet. Her body jolts and then lies still. There’s a hand on my shoulder, shoving me out of the way and Mrs Wilson screeches for someone to call the nurse. I stand stock still as she crouches down beside Lacey’s crumpled body and touches