by Jack Heath
—From the documentation for Truth, version 1.3
ON THE RUN
The car park was half full of police vehicles. There was a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire, but the gate was open. He didn’t see anyone guarding it. He sprinted across the asphalt, weaving around the police cars, and raced through the gap onto the busy street.
The reporters were still in front of the police station, but the alarm had distracted them. All eyes were on the main entrance, where bright lights were flashing and police officers were clomping down the steps. Were they surrounding the building or something? Jarli didn’t know.
He ran past an op shop, a supermarket and a cafe, away from the commotion. He was looking for a crowd to blend into, but there was only one pedestrian around—a man in dark glasses and an expensive-looking fedora, carrying a newspaper. Jarli suddenly recognised him. It was Mr Gorman.
Maybe he could help Jarli. Gorman used to work in private security. He and his bodyguards must have dealt with situations like this. Jarli opened his mouth to yell out to him—
And then realised that he couldn’t. The old man was still listening. Even if he got Gorman’s attention, how would Jarli explain what was going on? If he tried, the old man would kill Anya.
After a moment, it was too late. Helpless, Jarli watched as Gorman climbed into a sports car—not the electric sedan he’d been driving last night—and zoomed off.
The police officers were trying to shoo the journalists away. Soon someone would see Jarli. He ducked into an alley and hid behind a sour-smelling skip bin, pressing his back against the brick wall.
He lifted the phone to his ear and took a shaky breath. ‘I’m out.’
‘I know,’ the old man said. ‘I’m tracking the location of the phone. I know everywhere you go and everything you say.’
Jarli suddenly wondered if his old phone had been tracked too. That could be how the old man knew he was in the school gym earlier.
A sense of helplessness settled over Jarli. He had lied to the police, and then he had run from them. The old man had Anya, and he could hear everything Jarli said. What could Jarli do? He felt like he was going to throw up.
‘Listen carefully,’ the old man said.
Jarli could hear some kind of machine, clanking ominously in the background. ‘Please don’t hurt Anya,’ he said. ‘I’ll do whatever you want.’
‘Yes, you will. We’re going to make a trade.’
‘What kind of trade?’
‘You’re going to go home. You’re going to collect your father’s laptop. Then you’re going to bring it to me.’
Jarli shut his eyes. This was a nightmare. ‘Our house was robbed,’ he said. ‘Someone stole the laptop.’
‘Not that one. I want his secret laptop.’
‘He doesn’t have—’
‘Yes, he does. It’s in your house somewhere. You’re going to find it and bring it to me. You have two hours.’
Why would Jarli’s dad have a secret laptop? The whole thing made no sense. ‘That’s not enough time,’ Jarli said. ‘I don’t have my bike—it’ll take me an hour just to walk home.’
‘I’ve already booked a cab for you. It should be there any second.’
Just as he said this, a car pulled up next to the alley. Jarli peeked around the edge of the skip. It was a taxi, with Caroline behind the wheel.
‘Don’t hang up,’ the old man reminded him.
Jarli pocketed the phone and approached the taxi. Caroline’s smile faded as she saw the mud on his clothes.
‘Hey, Mrs Deshara.’
‘Hi, Jarli. Don’t get in yet.’
Caroline got out of the car, pulled a towel out of the boot and laid it across one of the back seats.
‘Thanks,’ Jarli said, though he knew she hadn’t done it for his benefit. He climbed in.
Bess was also sitting in the back. Her mum sometimes gave her a lift home when a fare took her near the school.
‘Jarli!’ she cried and hugged him. ‘You smell terrible.’
‘Good to see you, too,’ Jarli said.
‘What happened?’
Jarli couldn’t lie to Bess, especially not with Caroline’s phone using Truth Premium to check everything he said. But with the old man listening, he couldn’t tell her the truth. He wished he knew sign language.
‘You know that cliff at the top of Weirwalla Hill?’ he began. ‘Above the lake?’
Maybe Bess could help him. As he talked, Jarli got the phone out of his pocket. He thought maybe he could type a text message and show Bess the screen. Something like HELP ME. But the phone was locked, and Jarli didn’t know the PIN.
‘Well, I was looking for somewhere to hide . . .’
Still speaking, he held a finger to his lips, telling Bess to be silent. Then, with his fingertip, he drew three letters on the shiny glass screen of the phone: SOS.
He showed Bess the dirty smudges. She stared at him.
‘But I ended up falling off the cliff,’ he said.
Caroline shook her head. ‘You’re lucky to be alive. You know a guy broke his ankle jumping off there last year?’
Bess got out her own phone and typed a text message. She showed Jarli the screen.
Jarli took the phone from Bess and typed a message.
Bess’s eyes widened. She took her phone back and started typing.
‘Who broke his ankle?’ Jarli asked Caroline. ‘Tell me all about it.’
Caroline started rattling off everything she knew about the incident, giving Jarli the chance to check what Bess had written.
He borrowed the phone.
Bess took the phone back.
Jarli felt his heart sink. She was right. The old man couldn’t have brought the phone to the police station if he was guarding Anya somewhere else. He had someone working with him.
Unless—
Don’t think about it, Jarli told himself. But the thought came anyway: Unless Anya is already dead.
A LOSING BATTLE
Jarli took Bess’s phone back and started typing.
‘Hey, Mum,’ Bess said aloud. ‘Can I hang out at Jarli’s place for a while?’
‘Uh, sure,’ Caroline said. ‘If it’s OK with Jarli’s parents.’
Jarli thought of the old man, listening to this. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I won’t be staying long. I have to go out again.’
‘Where are you going?’ Caroline asked, sensing a potential fare.
Jarli didn’t know where the old man was going to send him once he had the laptop.
‘Out jogging with Dad,’ he said.
Caroline’s phone beeped. Lie
Caroline grinned. ‘Secret boys’ business, eh? OK, fine. You don’t have to tell me.’
‘It’ll take ten minutes, tops,’ Bess said. ‘I just want to talk to you about my blog.’
Jarli frowned. That made no sense. Then he realised what Bess was trying to do.
He borrowed her phone again.
The car pulled up in front of the house. Jarli pulled his wallet out of his pocket. It was so encrusted with mud that it made a crunching sound when he opened it. He offered a dirty twenty-dollar note to Caroline.
‘You keep that,’ she said. ‘You paid the fare online when you booked the cab. Remember?’
The old man must have done that. Jarli wondered if the police could identify him from his credit card details.
‘Oh, right,’ he said. ‘Well, see ya.’
He and Bess clambered out of the cab. Bess hobbled around to the driver’s side and gave Caroline a kiss through the window before she drove away.
When they got inside the house, no-one else was home. Jarli found a note on the bench.
Bess read the note quickly. ‘What’s this?’ She talked loudly for the old man’s benefit. ‘Looks like your family is taking the dog to the vet. Your mum wants you to call her.’
‘I can’t,’ Jarli said, equally loudly. ‘My phone died.’
‘Here, take mine. I’ll be in the ot
her room.’
Bess handed over her phone, but she didn’t leave the room. Jarli dialled Mum’s number from memory. The old man would be able to hear everything he said, but not what Mum was saying. He hoped that was enough not to get him or Anya in trouble.
Mum picked up quickly. ‘Bess! Have you heard from Jarli?’
‘It’s me,’ Jarli said. ‘My phone died. How’s Hooper?’
‘I don’t know. I found her convulsing and throwing up. At first I thought it might be a snakebite, but the vet couldn’t find any toothmarks. He thinks she might have eaten something she shouldn’t have. You didn’t put any snail bait in the yard, did you?’
‘No. Is she going to be OK?’ Jarli found it hard to breathe. For a moment he forgot all about Anya and the old man. Hooper had been with his family since Jarli was six years old. They had grown up together. She couldn’t die.
‘The vet doesn’t know. Where are you?’
‘I’m at home.’
‘Well, call Caroline and get her to give you a lift here.’
‘I can’t.’
‘It’s OK—we’ll pay her when you get here.’
‘I can’t, Mum.’
‘Jarli,’ Mum said. ‘If you don’t come now, you might not get another chance. Do you understand what I’m saying?’
She thought Hooper was dying. But Jarli couldn’t sacrifice Anya’s life, even to say goodbye to his dog.
‘I can’t,’ Jarli choked. ‘I’m sorry. I have to go.’
He ended the call and handed the phone back to Bess who disappeared with it into his bedroom. Jarli grabbed a tissue to wipe away some tears and snot.
When he lifted the other phone to his ear, the old man sounded angry. ‘You’re wasting time, Jarli.’
‘My mum and dad aren’t here,’ Jarli said. ‘I’ll find the laptop. Just give me some time to get rid of Bess.’
‘Be quick.’
‘I don’t want to make her suspicious. She might call the police.’
‘You’re a smart boy,’ the old man said. ‘You’ll think of a way to make her leave. You have ten minutes.’
Jarli pocketed the phone and ran into his bedroom. Bess had queued up the latest episode of Jarli’s podcast—the one where he interviewed Bess.
‘So what do you post on your blog?’ a recording of Jarli was asking.
‘I write about literature, mostly,’ recorded Bess said smoothly. She sounded much more formal when she had her interview-voice on. ‘I take classic novels and compare them to their modern equivalents.’
‘For fun?’ Recorded Jarli sounded sceptical.
Real-life Jarli left the old man’s phone right next to Bess’s, so he would think Jarli and Bess were having this conversation right now. Then he and Bess escaped back into the kitchen, out of range of the phone.
‘This is full on,’ Bess hissed. ‘What should we do?’
‘He wants Dad’s laptop,’ Jarli whispered back.
‘Didn’t someone steal it?’
‘He says there’s another one, hidden somewhere in the house. I have to find it.’
Bess looked doubtful. ‘Why would your dad have a secret laptop?’
‘I dunno. Maybe he doesn’t. The old man could have mixed him up with someone else. Maybe it’s a company laptop, and Gorman was supposed to be the target. But if I can’t find it, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.’
‘If you bring it to him, do you think he will let Anya go?’
Jarli hesitated. ‘Why wouldn’t he?’
‘If this is about your dad, then he only came after you—twice—because you’re a witness. Anya is a witness too. She was at the scene of the car crash, and at the falls. And now she knows where his hideout is.’
Jarli had a sinking feeling in his chest. ‘You think he’s going to take the laptop and kill us both?’
‘Maybe.’
Bess might be right. But Jarli couldn’t see another way out.
‘Help me find the laptop,’ he said. ‘If it’s not here, Anya’s definitely in trouble.’
They started the search in Mum and Dad’s room. Jarli looked under the bed, in the wardrobe and through every drawer. He found tissues, nail clippers, old magazines and the creepy pillow that had been delivered this morning. No laptops. Bess helped him search, but her crutches made her slow.
Jarli could hear the podcast getting near the end in his bedroom. They were running out of time to talk openly.
‘If the old man kills me,’ he began.
‘I’m not gonna let that happen,’ Bess said.
‘Listen to me. If he does, you have to tell Mum and Dad what happened, OK? Tell them everything. I don’t want them to think I just disappeared, or that I died in an accident.’ He remembered Mum’s words: Did you ever stop to think about what you were doing? Tears stung his eyes. ‘I don’t want Mum thinking that I just wasn’t careful.’
‘Your parents aren’t going to blame you for this,’ Bess said, ‘and you’re not going to die. Help me move this bookcase. Maybe the laptop is behind it.’
Jarli grabbed one end, and they dragged the bookcase away from the wall. A dictionary fell off the top and hit the floor with a little explosion of dust. There was nothing behind the bookshelf except cobwebs.
They had run out of places to search.
‘Maybe he hid it in another room,’ Bess said.
‘Maybe.’ But Jarli didn’t hold out much hope. It was a small house, and Dad couldn’t have hidden the laptop in another room without running the risk of someone finding it.
On auto-pilot, he picked up the dictionary to put it back on the shelf—
And felt something shift inside it.
Jarli opened the dictionary. He had once wondered why his father, who looked up everything online and hated crosswords, had a physical dictionary. Now he knew. The pages had been cut, creating a small hollow. Inside was a thin laptop, no bigger than an e-reader.
The old man had been right—but Jarli wasn’t relieved. What SECRETS had Dad been hiding?
‘Let’s see what’s on it,’ Bess said.
‘But the podcast is about to finish.’
Bess snatched the laptop out of his hands. She opened it and sat down on Mum and Dad’s bed. ‘You go talk to the old man,’ she said. ‘Stall him. What’s your dad’s birthday?’
‘Third of January, 1977,’ Jarli said. ‘But Dad’s a data-security engineer. He’s not going to use his birthday as a password.’
Bess typed it in. ‘I’m in.’
‘Huh,’ Jarli said. Maybe Dad wanted the laptop to be hacked.
Bess shooed him away. ‘Go, go!’
Jarli ran from the room and up the hall. He reached his bedroom and snatched up the phone just as the recorded version of Bess said, ‘Thanks for having me. Bye!’
Jarli closed the bedroom door loudly. Then he picked up the phone. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘She’s gone.’
‘You thought it was a good time for a ten-minute chat about literature?’ the old man said.
‘It worked, didn’t it?’ Jarli said. ‘She left. I’m looking for the laptop now.’
‘Look fast. If you’re not here in eighty minutes, Anya dies.’
‘I’m doing my best! You don’t need to keep threatening me.’
‘So far, your best isn’t good enough.’ It was almost exactly what Mr Kendrick used to say, and it left Jarli feeling just as helpless.
He ran back into his parents’ room. Bess was staring at the laptop, eyes wide.
Jarli sat next to her on the bed so he could see the screen. Then his eyes grew wide too.
DEAD MAN’S SWITCH
Bess got to the end of the note before Jarli did. She opened a new document and started typing.
Jarli was still reeling. Dad’s anxiety over the last few weeks made sense now. And the message on the pillow: Rest In Peace, Jarli. That might not have had anything to do with the app. The warning might have been intended for Dad, not Jarli.
He grabbed the laptop.
Bess op
ened her mouth and then closed it again. Jarli typed:
Jarli looked at the crutches, laying on the bed like crossbones. Bess glared at him.
Jarli lifted the phone to his ear. ‘I’ve found the laptop,’ he said.
‘About time,’ the old man said.
‘Where are we going to make the trade?’
‘Listen carefully.’
SHOWDOWN
Jarli’s one-person bike was carrying two passengers. Footrests were mounted on either side of the back wheel for this purpose. He and Kirstie rode it together all the time. But Kirstie was smaller than Bess, and she had working legs to catch her if she fell off.
It was a bit wobbly, but Jarli focussed on steering while Bess wrapped her arms around his chest and held on tight, his backpack and her crutches crushed between them. Luckily the journey was mostly downhill.
The sun crawled towards the horizon, racing them. Jarli pedalled furiously along the highway, his legs aching. Every jolt through the handlebars hurt his sore wrist. When this was all over, he wanted to lie down and sleep for about two days.
Assuming he survived. Whoever wrote the VIPER file, they seemed willing and able to make people vanish without a trace. When Mum, Dad and Kirstie got home from the emergency vet, they might find Jarli missing—and they might never find out where he had gone. Even Dad might not be sure of exactly what had happened.
Jarli should have left a note or something. He hadn’t thought of it—the old man hadn’t given them much time to get to the warehouse.
And what about Caroline? What would she do if her daughter didn’t come home? Jarli felt guilty for getting Bess involved in this. It had been her choice to come to the trade, but if Jarli hadn’t told her what was happening, she would be safely home by now.
He wanted to apologise, but he couldn’t. The old man was still listening, in his pocket. Jarli didn’t want him to know that he had a passenger.