The Misfits Club

by Kieran Crowley

  When they did business together, Plunkett Healy would put money in a briefcase and leave it at a pre-arranged point, Lambert would collect it and leave behind whatever memento it was that had been ordered. Healy would then deliver it to Mr Figg and his boss would place the memento in a security room in his house along with all the others he’d accumulated over the years. Mr Figg would visit the room once a month and stare at his collection for a few minutes. He was the only one allowed into the room and nobody else ever got to see the mementos. Plunkett Healy wasn’t even sure his employer truly appreciated any of the items he purchased. He wasn’t a very cultured man. He believed that Mr Figg just liked the fact that he was the one who owned the objects that other rich men wanted.

  The system had worked well over the years because most of the items were small and manageable. This time it was going to be a little different. This one could be dangerous, and that made Plunkett Healy nervous.

  The phone number he dialled had changed from the last time he’d tried to contact Lambert over six months earlier. It was an Irish contact number this time. Previously, it had been an American one. That was about as much information as he had on Lambert, who was just a mysterious voice on the phone to him.

  ‘Hello?’ Lambert said.

  ‘This is buyer number One-five-four-two,’ Plunkett Healy said.

  ‘Go ahead.’

  There was no idle chit-chat.

  ‘Is the, erm, delivery still on schedule for tomorrow night?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And it’s in good condition?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Plunkett Healy didn’t know what to say next.

  ‘Is there anything else?’ Lambert asked.

  ‘Did you bring it from Africa yourself?’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about that.’

  ‘No, OK. Thanks. See you tomorrow. Well, I won’t see you, but . . .’

  The line went dead. Before Healy had time to gather his thoughts, the door to his office burst open and Healy’s second-least-favourite person in the world strode in. Barney Figg was Cornelius Figg’s thirteen-year-old son. Mr Figg considered Barney to be the smartest, sweetest boy in the world. Everyone else who met Barney considered him to be a prat.

  ‘Well, Healy, is it here yet?’ Barney Figg demanded.

  He was tanned from a holiday he’d been on in the Bahamas to recover from losing a football tournament earlier in the summer.

  ‘No, sir, not yet. As I told you earlier, it’ll be here tomorrow night.’

  ‘My party’s going to be amazing, but it had better be here on time or it’ll ruin everything. It’s the centrepiece of the night. If not, the party will be a disaster and if the party’s a disaster I’ll blame you, Healy.’

  ‘Yes, I believe you will, young Mr Figg.’

  As Barney exited the office, slamming the door shut after him, Plunkett Healy wondered, for what felt like the millionth time, if he shouldn’t just get a normal job working normal hours for normal people.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Lionel and Burt reached the front door of the nursing home. Burt, the heavier of the two, tried to wrench it open, then looked quite confused when that didn’t work. Lionel, a slimmer man with longer hair, shook his head disparagingly and shoved his companion aside. He took the opposite approach and shoved the door, but that didn’t work either. By the time they’d figured out that you had to press the buzzer to get in, the four Misfits were off and running, no longer worried about raising suspicions.

  They heard the receptionist call after them, but they ignored her. Running out of the lobby, they raced down another corridor, one that led away from the front door. They were looking for an exit, any exit. Amelia was the quickest, her legs a blur, her hands karate-chopping the air in a way that Brian would have mocked if they weren’t being chased.

  She took a sharp left, pushing through some swing doors, the others just behind her. They found themselves in a huge kitchen. It was empty except for a janitor who was diligently mopping the floor. A door on the far side was being held open by a chair propped under its handle in order to let the air in to help dry it out more quickly. Beyond that was the outside world. They’d found an exit.

  Without hesitating, they ran across the wet floor, slipping and sliding their way to freedom.

  ‘Hey, no, I just spent the last hour cleaning that,’ the janitor cried.

  ‘Sorry, really sorry,’ Amelia shouted as they left streaky footprints behind.

  ‘We’re all sorry,’ Brian yelled over his shoulder.

  They raced round the side of the building, and towards the car park at the front. It took them a few seconds before they spotted Chris, the whistle between his lips, about to peep three times for the gravest danger. He’d been hiding behind a hedge and had only appeared when he’d heard his friends’ voices.

  ‘You made it,’ he said.

  He was delighted. When he’d seen the two men rush into the nursing home, he’d assumed the worst.

  ‘It won’t be long before Rodney tells them what happened,’ Hannah said.

  ‘We’ve got to get out of here,’ Amelia said.

  ‘There’s only one road in or out of this place,’ Brian said. ‘And that car they drive is quick. We’ll never make it without being caught. We won’t be fast enough.’

  ‘Over the hedge it is, then,’ Sam said. He began to climb the hedge, his hands and feet disappearing in the thick greenery. ‘I’ll pull the rest of you up when I make it to the top . . . This is . . . harder than it looks.’

  He’d only made it about half a metre up the hedge and had almost completely vanished, when Hannah grabbed him by the T-shirt and hauled him back down.

  ‘Thanks for that. That thing’s like green quicksand,’ Sam said.

  ‘We have to hide. The car park’s full enough. Move the bikes out of sight and duck behind the cars. With a bit of luck, they won’t see us,’ Brian said.

  They followed his lead, picking up their bikes, and wheeled them behind a row of cars in an area marked Staff Parking. Those were the vehicles that Brian figured were least likely to be moved in the next few moments. On the far side of the car park, sitting at an odd angle and badly parked, was the Subaru Impreza, the car with which Brian had already had one close encounter.

  They got down on their haunches behind a black SUV. Five faces peeped out, focused on the entrance to the nursing home. One was a little more obvious than the others.

  ‘Hannah,’ Amelia said. ‘Might be an idea to remove the jacket. You’re not really camouflaged.’

  ‘Oh, right. Good idea,’ Hannah said, quickly removing her luminous reflective jacket. She stuffed it beside her bike. ‘Stupid safety clothing.’

  After a couple of minutes, there was still no movement at the entrance to the nursing home and the adrenalin rush was beginning to wear off for most of them. Sam was keeping an eye on the side door, but there was no sign of life there either.

  ‘What’s taking them so long?’ Chris wondered aloud.

  It wasn’t that he wanted to see the men rush out, but the waiting was making him feel even more flustered and anxious.

  ‘I’ve got an idea,’ Brian said.

  ‘Another one? This must be some kind of record for you,’ Sam said.

  ‘I know. I’m just as surprised as you are,’ Brian replied. ‘Once those guys drive away, we don’t have any way of finding them again. And Rodney certainly isn’t going to be giving us any information.’

  ‘He really was a horrible man,’ Amelia said.

  ‘Was he?’ Chris asked. ‘In what way?’

  ‘Focus, Misfits,’ Hannah said. ‘Brian, keep talking.’

  ‘This is our best chance to find the stolen goods. If we follow the guys, then they might lead us to where we want to go.’

  ‘And how do we do that?’ Amelia asked.

  ‘I don’t know. That’s as far as I’ve got.’

  ‘Follow the bad guys? That’s the entire plan?’

  ‘It’s
a good plan,’ Brian replied, a little defensively. ‘We just need to iron out a few little details.’

  ‘Yes, like how a bunch of twelve-year-olds on bikes can follow a super-powered car,’ Hannah said.

  ‘That would be one of the details. Probably the most important one, really.’

  ‘I’ve got it,’ Chris said. ‘There’s an app on my tablet that can locate my phone. I installed it in case I ever lost my mobile. See? You lot always think I’m too safety conscious, but when it comes to something like thi—’

  ‘Gloat later, pal. We don’t have much time to spare,’ Brian said.

  ‘Right. Well, if we hide the phone in their car, then we can track their location on my tablet.’

  ‘Excellent. Give me your phone. I’ll put it in the car,’ Brian said.

  ‘I’ll help you,’ Sam said. ‘No one’s better at hiding stuff than me. I once hid a chocolate bar in a cupboard so that Chris wouldn’t eat it. Didn’t find it again for two years.’

  ‘Great, except we do want to find the phone again,’ Amelia said.

  Chris was working furiously on his mobile, his fingers almost a blur. He finished checking the set-up, then unzipped his backpack and took out his tablet.

  ‘Come on, come on,’ Chris said, urging his tablet to hurry up. ‘The app’s almost loaded.’

  ‘We can put the phone in the car now, though, can’t we?’ Brian said.

  ‘Oh, yeah. Of course. Go, go, go.’

  Chris held out the phone. Brian took it, or at least he tried to. Chris didn’t let go. Normally, he wasn’t too strong, but he had a super grip on his top-of-the-range android phone.

  ‘Chris?’

  ‘It’s a really, really nice phone. I know it was my idea, but I don’t want to lose it.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake,’ Hannah said. She thumped Chris on the shoulder.

  ‘That hurt,’ he said, letting go immediately.

  ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’ Sam said.

  Brian took off, scurrying across the car park. He glanced at the entrance as he rushed past. Was that one of the men standing by the reception desk? He couldn’t be sure. Sam was just behind him. They reached the car, Sam going to the passenger side, Brian to the driver’s. They both tried the doors, but they were locked. They looked at each other over the roof.

  ‘Boot,’ Sam said.

  The car boot opened with a gentle click. There was nothing in there other than a rolled-up blanket squashed into a corner. The spare tyre was hidden under a dark grey floor mat. Brian lifted the mat up. He could squeeze the phone down by the side of the tyre and cover it up again with the mat. The men wouldn’t find it there unless they happened to get a puncture and needed to change the tyre.

  ‘What’s that?’ Sam asked.

  Brian hadn’t heard it the first time, but he did the second. It was the sound of someone attempting the world’s worst bird call.

  ‘Chris,’ they both said at the same time.

  Brian looked back to where the other Misfits were supposed to be hiding. They weren’t hiding at all. Hannah, Chris and Amelia were standing in between two parked cars, frantically waving their arms. They were warning them about something.

  Brian heard a click as the lights at the back of the Impreza flashed twice. Sam must have known it was the men opening their car from a distance, Brian thought. Why else would his friend have suddenly shoved him into the boot of the car?

  Sam jumped in himself moments later. He pulled the boot shut after him and plunged their world into darkness.

  ‘OK,’ Hannah said. ‘That wasn’t part of the plan.’

  ‘What just happened?’ Amelia asked. Her view had been obscured by Chris’s head.

  ‘Sam and Brian are now in the boot of the car,’ Hannah said.

  ‘Well, that’s not good,’ Chris said.

  The three of them watched as the men reached the car. They didn’t check the boot, so it didn’t look as if they’d spotted Sam and Brian climbing in, although no one could be sure. Lionel jumped into the driver’s seat, Burt climbed in the passenger side. They didn’t waste any time. The engine revved into life and the car reversed out of the parking space, before driving at speed towards the exit.

  And then it was gone, with Brian and Sam still stuck in the boot.

  ‘No, that’s not good at all,’ Chris said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Chris checked his tablet. The app was installed and working.

  ‘The tracking’s on,’ he said.

  ‘We’d better hurry up and follow them, then,’ Hannah said.

  She’d put her reflective jacket and helmet back on and was in the middle of righting her bike. She hopped on and began to pedal. Chris and Amelia knew there was no point discussing their options. Hannah was right. There was only one plan now: follow that car.

  Brian and Sam didn’t speak for the next few minutes. They were concentrating all their energy on trying to stop themselves from being bounced around inside the boot, partly to avoid injuring themselves, but mainly because they didn’t want the men to hear them and figure out they had a couple of stowaways on board.

  They tried, and failed, to make themselves comfortable. They bumped into the car’s panels – and each other – as the Impreza hurtled down the road. It was only when one of the men switched on the stereo and turned a 90s song up to an ear-splitting level that Brian and Sam decided it was safe enough to speak. The music boomed through the car and they could feel it reverberating deep in their bones.

  ‘I know we’re trapped and everything, but isn’t this awesome? It’s a proper adventure. Much better than hanging around the den, talking all the time,’ Sam said.

  ‘Awesome? Awesome? Are you insane? Why did you push me into the boot?’ Brian asked in an angry whisper.

  ‘I had no other choice,’ Sam said.

  ‘We could have run away in the opposite direction.’

  ‘Oh yeah, I suppose we could have. Still, we’re here now. Better make the most of it. So what’s the plan?’

  ‘Plan? I didn’t even know that I was going to be in the boot of a car until thirty seconds ago. When do you think I came up with a plan?’ Brian snapped.

  ‘Take it easy, man. Getting angry is not going to solve this problem we’ve got ourselves into.’

  ‘Not we, Sam, you. You’ve got us into this.’

  The car swerved round a bend, taking it too quickly and sending Sam and Brian slamming into each other.

  ‘You OK?’ Brian asked when they’d managed to untangle themselves.

  ‘Yeah, luckily my head bounced off some kind of rug or blanket. Cushioned the impact.’

  Another terrible 90s song boomed through the car. The men really did have the worst taste in music.

  ‘They’re definitely the guys you saw before, aren’t they?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Yes, they’re the same guys,’ Brian said, exasperated. ‘Right. Not getting caught should be our number-one priority. When the car stops, we’ll be ready in case they open the boot. If that happens, we come out fighting.’

  ‘Got it,’ Sam said.

  The music was switched off suddenly. The next sound they heard was one of the men speaking. His voice was muffled, but his voice was loud enough for them to make out most of what he was saying.

  ‘What did you turn it off for, Lionel? I love East 17,’ the heavier of the two said.

  ‘Shut up, Burt, I heard something,’ Lionel said.

  ‘You’re always hearing things. Remember when you thought you heard that guy when we broke into that house and it turned out there was no one there? Or when you said you’d heard a phone ringing when we were in the cottage in the forest?’

  ‘It sounded like voices.’

  ‘Yeah, like there’s people in the car with us. This isn’t a horror movie, Lionel. I’m not going to turn round and find someone hiding in the back seat . . . Aaaarrrrggggghhhh . . . There he is. He’s been hiding there all the time. We’re gonna die.’

  ‘You’re not funny.
You do know that, right?’

  ‘I’m hilarious. You just don’t have a sense of humour – that’s your problem.’

  The car swung right, but Sam and Brian were prepared this time. They pressed their hands and feet against the interior panels, bracing themselves as much as they could.

  ‘I’m starving,’ Burt said. ‘Super Burger or Chicken Express?’

  ‘We can’t eat now. We have to check the house. We’ll probably have to move the stuff again now those kids are on to us. How do you think they found us?’

  ‘Who cares? They’re just some dumb kids. Rodney was probably overreacting. You know what he’s like. Come on, let’s stop for a quick bite. I haven’t eaten in over an hour.’

  ‘Those kids are like the Scooby Doo gang or something,’ Lionel said. ‘If they get the cops involved—’

  ‘They don’t know where we’ve moved the stuff to. It’s safe. And I don’t want to move it all again. It’s a giant pain.’

  ‘You really are a lazy whinger.’

  ‘Lazy? Of course I’m lazy. I didn’t start thieving because I wanted to work hard, you know. I took to crime to make my life easier, but now it’s manual labour this, manual labour that,’ Burt grumbled.

  The next part of the conversation was drowned out by the blare of the radio. The driver had switched it on again. Brian guessed Lionel had turned it on so he wouldn’t have to listen to Burt any longer.

  ‘Looks like we could be here for a while,’ Sam whispered.

  ‘Looks like it,’ Brian agreed.

  As the minutes ticked by, Brian’s arms and legs grew tired from being stuck in the same position. He was starting to cramp up. He badly wanted to get out of there. He hoped the others were tracking them.

  ‘I’m not good on hills,’ Chris wheezed.

  The girls had stopped their bikes at the crest of a hill one hundred metres ahead, while they waited for him to catch up. At first glance, the road didn’t look challenging, but it was a long, gradual incline that had sapped Chris’s energy quite quickly. He wasn’t used to cycling – Sam was the sporty one in the family – and it showed. Sweat needled his brow and his legs had begun to cramp.