Page 47 of Dying Truth

More nuts were forced into his mouth as he tried to writhe away from his captor.

He could feel the nuts bobbing around in his mouth. His saliva was catching them like a tidal wave and trying to take them down his throat. His teeth switched to autopilot and began to chew automatically so that he didn’t choke. Smaller pieces of nut were being washed down his throat and into his intestines.

Shaun had been lectured repeatedly about the sudden release of chemicals that could send his body into shock. He pictured the histamine being unleashed to get him.

The facial swelling was immediate. He could feel the flesh on his lips and eyelids expand and stretch with each passing second.

The panic was growing within him. He needed his pen. Without it he was going to die.

He could feel his throat beginning to narrow, breathing was becoming harder. His breath rasped in his chest as he fought for each gulp of air, but someone had built a brick wall across his windpipe. He could no longer swallow, and the drool began to leak from his mouth.

He lurched forward as the pain ripped through his abdomen. The nausea followed, and he prayed he would not vomit. The scarf covering his eyes had slipped and was now resting around his mouth, but he was blinded by the tears that had formed.

There was no doubt in his mind.

He knew he was going to die.

As he fought to take just one breath into his lungs he saw a shadow cross the doorway. Someone was there. Someone had heard, and they had come to help.

He reached out towards them, but they were gone.

His arm fell back to the ground as he took his final breath.

Thirty

Dawson was hoping to find Tilly in the dorm room.

Her head was bent studiously over a pile of books.

‘Hey,’ he said, quietly, from the doorway, so as not to startle her. It didn’t work as she jumped out of her skin anyway.

‘No lesson?’ he asked. The end-of-lunch-break bell had sounded fifteen minutes ago. He stepped into the room, careful to leave the door open.

‘Free period, which I decided to spend with Mr Pythagoras here,’ she said, slapping the top book.

‘And, how is he?’ Dawson asked, sitting on Sadie’s bed.

‘Let’s just say our relationship is complicated’ she replied, seriously.

Dawson smiled at her earnest expression.

‘Got a minute?’ he asked.

She glanced at the books and then turned to face him.

‘Shoot.’

‘I’ve been learning a bit about these groups here. The Hearts and Spades and all that. Can you explain a bit more about how they work?’

He’d run out of time with Geoffrey, who had seemed to grow in discomfort talking about them. He suspected Tilly would have no such problem.

She nodded. ‘You know they’re supposed to be secret, right?’

Dawson nodded.

‘The playing cards are almost as old as the school. They are elite societies within an elite society,’ she said.

‘Do people aspire to be a member of these clubs?’