The stars give enough light if you trust them, but looking down can give you the sense that you’re not moving at all. I block out the shouting, stare ahead at the distant midnight sky and keep the pipe in my peripheral vision. Beneath, the steep sides of the gully drop away. I kick off my shoes, step across the wetness and begin moving - evenly, but not too fast - feet turned out, arms outstretched. The first section of pipe is slick with beer and spit. The image I take with me as I slip through the grille is of Kenzie taking Mitchell by the hand and leading him to Pete’s car. Wentz nods to accept and Pete slaps my back, but Kenzie makes a strangled sound and walks away. The Hearts step away to give me space, but step up their insults to rattle me. We’ll never be anything but rivals, but it is an impressive time.
‘If you’re going to beat that, Gracie, you need a death wish.’ ‘Thirty-two flat,’ Gummer says, leaning over Pete’s shoulder. ‘Is it legal? Can he do that?’ Kenzie groans. The Sacred Heart students, anticipating a record time, swarm the grille. He’s making it look effortless, and effortlessly walking the pipe takes a whole lot of practice. At over six feet, almost a foot taller than me, his steps are longer. But his arms are loose at his sides as if he’s going for a stroll around the block. Why he would choose to attempt the record on the return is beyond me. Wentz blinks in the glare of a dozen sets of headlights and a haze of dust.
‘Don’t bother,’ he says to me, but Wentz is coming back, on his feet this time, and he’s moving fast. I can’t help wondering whether he closed his eyes when he jumped, or met the rocks with them wide open. We all know the stories are spread by grown-ups to keep us away from the quarry, but this is the first time I’ve ever thought about Hannah Holt, or William Dean, before I’ve crossed. Some say Hannah Holt is buried in the gully, her uneasy spirit slipping from crevice to shadow, sniffing for fear, and when she smells it she’ll pull you down by the ankles with her teeth. |a As part of a feud between two local high schools, Grace Foley accepts the dangerous challenge to investigate the twenty-year-old mystery of missing girl Hannah Holt. |a Melbourne, Australia : |b Text Publishing Company, |c 2017.
|a Ballad for a mad girl / |c Vikki Wakefield. |b Consortium Book Sales & Dist, C/O Ips Jackson 210 American Dr, Jackson, TN, USA, 38301-5070 |n SAN 631-8630
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