Run, Kid, Run!

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Run, Kid, Run! Page 1

by Andrew Daddo




  For Lucy, Jess and Mitch.

  Run, kids, run!

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  About the author

  About the Illustrator

  Copyright

  ONE

  Mum cracked the whip.

  ‘Comeoncomeoncomeoncomeon! We’ll be late.’ She sounded like she was calling a horse race.

  ‘It’s holidays. What’s the panic?’ said Harrison.

  ‘Did you grow a mental year overnight?’ Mum said.

  Harrison curled his lip.

  Mum could’ve taken off; that was the sort of flap she was in. ‘Listen, Buster. There’s been another “emergency” at work, so it’s not quite holidays for me. Unfortunately, that means if’s not quite holidays for you, either — or your sister. Could you wake her up? Gently?’

  Jess mooched into the kitchen. Her face was a bit puffy and her hair was all over the place.

  Aren’t we on holidays?’ she moaned. ‘Doesn’t that mean…’

  ‘Sleep in until bedtime. Normally, yes,’ Mum sighed. ‘But I have to work — sorry — and you have to come with me.’

  ‘I thought we were going away. Isn’t that why we packed our bags?’ Jess had a point. Mum never worked during school holidays. It was her “thing".

  ‘Oh, don’t make me feel worse,’ cranked Mum.

  ‘Well, can’t we hang out at the Mac’s?’ said Harrison.

  Mum’s shoulders fell foward. ‘No. The MacPhersons have gone south to freeze. The Johnsons have gone north to cook. Timmy Douglas has chickenpox. Isabelle Mincer’s got lice — that’s a secret — and your dad is out of town on “business"’ — he says.’ She threw a pair of jeans at Jess. ‘I should be able to knock the job over by lunchtime. Then we’ll go away to — ‘

  ‘Grandma’s again. Cool. Mini-bikes and lollies and sleeping in,’ said Harrison.

  Mum pumped a fist and smiled, then kicked the dishwasher shut and marched us to the door. She was late. Again.

  ‘But I haven’t had breakfast,’ said Jess.

  ‘They do great breakfasts at work — in the canteen.’

  ‘But you always say only rats would eat there.’

  ‘And you’re not a rat?’ Mum squeaked and held Jess in a happy headlock all the way to the car.

  ‘Hang on,’ said Harrison. ‘What about the new rule? No Kids At Work.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Jess. ‘Remember that letter you got that made you so crazy?’

  ‘We’ll get round that,’ said Mum.

  The car backfired as she turned it over. Not a good start.

  TWO

  Even though the No-Kids-At-Work rule was new, Harrison and Jess hadn’t been to the TV station with Mum for ages. When she was working, they were at school.

  ‘We’re getting close,’ said Mum pointing at the billboards set up like dominoes along the roadside. She flicked the blinker on. ‘Get down!’ she snipped.

  ‘Why?’ said Harrison.

  ‘Security guard! Cover yourself with that blanket.’

  ‘The dog blanket? That’s disgusting,’ said Jess. Harrison sank down behind the front seat and dragged a towel over him. Sand went everywhere.

  ‘Cover up, Jess,’ said Mum. ‘Please?’

  ‘Ugh!’ Jess crouched down, dragged the blanket over her back and held her breath. ‘Something’s moving that isn’t me. Yuuuuk!’

  Mum pulled up at the boom gate.

  ‘Morning, Sophie,’ said a deep voice. ‘Weren’t you going on holidays?’

  Mum whatevered; there was the di-dup of a tag being scanned. ‘Later, Morrie,’ she said. They went over a speed trap and the kids bounced.

  ‘Right, we’re in!’ said Mum.

  Jess threw the blanket off with a splutter. Harrison cracked his head against something. ‘Owwwwwww!’

  The kids kept down low, but Mum laughed. ‘Your only worry is the security guards. If they see you, we’re busted. Just about everyone else thinks the No-Kids rule stinks.’

  Are we supposed to hide in the car all day?’ Jess looked about as if someone was after her. ‘I’m starving to death.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. Keep your teeth in.’ Mum parked in a spot with someone else’s name on it.

  ‘I’ll draw you a map, then I’ll start work and you can have breakfast. Okay?’ She used her di-dup to get into the building; Harrison and Jess followed.

  The walls were lined with pictures of TV stars.

  ‘Someone’s drawn a moustache and glasses on Muzza from that dancing show,’ Harrison laughed.

  ‘I did that.’ Mum grinned. ‘He deserves it. Muzz wears slippers with bells on his way to make-up, so everyone can hear him coming and clear out before he gets there. He’s a nong.’

  ‘Where’s make-up?’ asked Jess.

  ‘Forget it. It’ll be out of bounds.’

  The area where Mum worked was about the size of a basketball court divided into cubicles, one for each person. It was pretty quiet, and before Jess and Harrison had time to poke about, she stashed them in a room with a sign saying MEETING ROOM 4.

  ‘Wait here,’ she said. ‘Back in a sec. Lock the door behind me, and do not open it unless you hear this knock.’ She tapped three times quickly, then twice slowly. ‘Got it?’ She winked and closed the door.

  There was no lock, so Jess leant back against the door with her arms folded — just as the Brady Bunch kids used to. ‘Parents. So lame.’

  THREE

  Harrison sat at the head of the table, took a pen and put his feet up. ‘Roight!’ he said. ‘Things are about to change round here. We’re replacing the news with cartoons.’

  ‘Or music videos,’ said Jess. ‘Or A Place Like Ours. But not the bits with that old guy.’

  ‘Him?’ Harrison pointed at the life-sized portrait of Edward Putzon, who was sneering down at them. ‘Muzza treatment?’ He waved his pen.

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Jess.

  Harrison walked over to the poster. ‘We could do this,’ he said and added a droopy moustache.

  ‘You’re mad.’ Jess laughed. Harrison had always been the joker, so they were both a bit surprised when she grabbed another pen and joined him.

  ‘And this.’ Glasses.

  ‘And — ‘ Jess was ready to give Putzon either horns or bad hair when the door was flung open. There had been no secret knock — no knock at all. Jess’s pen just hung there.

  Nailed.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ whispered Mum.

  ‘Blame him,’ said Jess. Harrison hid his pen.

  ‘Yeah, right.’ Mum shut the door.

  Wide-eyed, Harrison shook his head. ‘But, Muuuuuuuum —’

  ‘Oh, please,’ she said, trying to rub the ink off, but smudging it. ‘Why would you do this?’

  ‘You did it to Muzza.’

  ‘I did not.’ Mum looked shocked.

  ‘You said you did.’

  Mum laughed. ‘It was just big talk. I’d never do that to old Twinkle Toes. Not here, anyway. They’d ditch me! Now sit down and I’ll draw that map.’

  She put stars on the important places: the canteen, her office, the lift, toilets.

  ‘Where do they make A Place Like Ours?’ said Jess.

  ‘Out of bounds,’ said Mum.

  ‘Not if we’re careful.’ Jess sucked her teeth. 'What about make-up? You said you’d tell us.’

  ‘You’re dreaming.’

  There was a loud knock. Anyone in there?’ boomed a man’s voice. ‘Security. There are kids in there — Fee Fi Fo Fum, I can smell ‘um.’

 
Harrison and Jess dived under the table. Mum followed.

  FOUR

  The door opened, just a bit. Then Mum stuck her foot out and held it shut.

  ‘Open this door!’ It was pushed from the outside again, only harder. And the booming voice got nastier — until it laughed. ‘Come on, Soph. I saw your giblets go in there. Open up!’

  ‘Wood Duck,’ whispered Mum. She pulled her foot away and the door opened with a rush. ‘You scared the life out of us!’ She slid out from under the table; Harrison and Jess stayed there.

  The man wasn’t dressed like a security guard: no walkie-talkie, handcuffs or night-stick. He didn’t look strong enough to wear a belt with any of that stuff on it. He had flaming red hair, freckles and big wet lips.

  ‘Got you,’ he said. ‘You should see your face. And you two can come out of there. It’s okay. I’m one of the good guys.’

  Jess and Harrison crawled out. ‘Hello, Mr Wood Duck.’ Harrison offered his hand.

  ‘Kids, this is Tim Lyons. Sorry, Tim. I have no idea where Bratboy got Wood Duck from.’

  ‘That’s what you called him,’ said Harrison.

  Mum was trying to push her eyeballs into the back of her head and gave an embarrassed cack.

  Tim Lyons just laughed. ‘And what have we got here?’ Mum tried to grab the map, but he held it up high. ‘Treasure map?’

  ‘Tim —’

  ‘Ah, that’s our office, isn’t it? And the canteen. Stinkybutt Walsh’s corner cubicle? Stay away from there.’ He put it back down. ‘You might want to add Big Red’s workstation. She’ll eat them alive. You kids know you’re not meant to be here, right?’

  ‘Mum says we won’t be here long.’

  ‘Oh, does she?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, Tim,’ said Mum. ‘Want anything from the canteen? The kids are getting breakfast.’

  ‘I’d love a muffin. Chocolate chip. A coffee would be good — latte. Decaf. Skim milk, maybe — ‘

  ‘Are you sure that’s all? What about sugar?’ Mum stuck her hand out for the money and he shook it.

  ‘It’s a deal. You just bought my silence.’

  Mum marked up the map in red and green; stop and go, yeah? Red zones in the green zones, and double red zones — like the stairs to the executive floor. All Jess wanted to know was where she could bump into a soap star.

  ‘The canteen,’ said Mum. ‘Stars have to eat, too.’

  ‘Or the studio?’ said Wood Duck. ‘Everyone’s in today, even Missy Barnstock. What a pain. She can change our scripts, but she won’t change her stupid name. I saw her Porsche in the parking lot. Or you could try make-up, wardrobe. You’ll find someone, for sure.’

  ‘Except they’re all red zones,’ Mum snipped.

  ‘Red zones?’

  ‘Out of bounds.’

  Jess and Harrison grumped. Wood Duck made a face, too. ‘I could take them. I’ve got nothing to do.’

  ‘Yes you do, lame-brain. You’re helping me write the world’s most important script. Remember?’

  ‘Sorry, kids. I tried. Now, that coffee you’re getting me was one sugar, skim milk, right?’

  Mum folded some money into Jess’s hand and told Harrison to be careful. ‘The security guards are in hats, white shirts and black pants. They’ve got badges on their sleeves. If you see one with a black ponytail and a knife tattoo, disappear. Got that?’

  ‘Got it, Mum.’

  ‘And don’t draw on any more posters.’

  The two of them left the meeting room in a crouch.

  FIVE

  They didn’t get far.

  They could see the canteen outside, only twenty metres away at the end of a covered path. But they couldn’t get out. The glass doors wouldn’t open. Harrison jumped on the mat. Jess waved her arms. It worked at the supermarket and the chemist, but not here. Harrison tried to prise the doors apart. They wouldn’t budge.

  ‘Forget your tag?’ The voice was snappy, but strangely familiar. Di-dup. The doors opened and a small woman in a long black dress glided past them.

  ‘That’s —’

  ‘Aren’t you?’

  But she was gone. Harrison and Jess were so shocked they didn’t have time to get through the doors before they closed again.

  ‘She looks much bigger on TV,’ said Harrison.

  ‘Oh. My. God. We should get her autograph.’ Jess jumped up and down and waved as if she needed rescuing. ‘We need Mum’s tag.’

  She told Harrison to wait while she went back for it. He tried to hang in a shadow. Maybe he could sneak through with the next person.

  There was an intercom by the door, so he pressed HELP.

  ‘Yes?’ The voice crackled with static. Harrison backed away. ‘Yes? This is Security Officer Stenson. What do you want?’ Harrison flattened himself right into the shadows. ‘I see you there, in the corner. Stand in front of the doors so I can identify you.’

  Harrison saw the camera.

  ‘Hellooo?’ crackled the voice. ‘Identify yourself.’ Was this the guard they had to avoid? Harrison imagined the knife tattoo, the thick black hair. He was a monster. And the way to deal with monsters was close your eyes and hope they went away. Or run!

  Halfway back to the meeting room, Harrison saw his sister in the hallway, staring at the portrait of Voluptua, star of Voluptuas Adventures. Great show. Somehow Voluptua always got into trouble, but then she always got out of it. ‘Dude, we’re busted,’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  He told her how he’d hit the intercom and Officer Stenson had seen him. ‘What are we going to do?’

  Jess looked at Voluptua. She copied her pose and the faraway superhero stare. ‘We’re going to the canteen,’ she said. ‘I’m starving. Then we’ll — ‘

  ‘What?’

  ‘There’ll be a sign. There always is for Voluptua.’

  Harrison frowned, but as usual he wasn’t in charge. It was one of the good and bad things about being younger. He let Jess lead the way back to the double doors.

  She lifted Mum’s tag, but Harrison stopped her.

  ‘You can do the next one,’ she said.

  ‘No — look!’ He pointed through the doors. At the end of the passageway outside, swinging his keys on a long silver chain was a man in black pants and a white shirt with badges. Long black hair bounced as he walked. ‘That’s him!’ said Harrison. ‘The one who’s after me.’

  Officer Stenson stopped. He stared; frowned. Harrison and Jess stopped, too. He started walking towards them.

  The race was on.

  SIX

  They doubled back. Harrison went for MEETING ROOM 4; Jess turned in the other direction. ‘This way,’ they said to each other.

  ‘Come on,’ pleaded Harrison. ‘He won’t look in the meeting room.’

  ‘Canteen,’ said Jess, pointing at a door off to the left.

  Harrison checked the map to see whether this zone was red or green.

  ‘Come on!’ Jess tried to barge through, but the door was locked. A di-dup over the keypad and the door clicked. ‘Easy,’ she said.

  They were in a long hallway with doors labelled EDIT SUITE 1, 2, 3 — all closed. But near the end, up at EDIT SUITE 6, the door was open and they could hear familiar voices.

  ‘That’s Erin, from A Place Like Ours’ whispered Jess. ‘She’s talking to her boyfriend, Heath.’ They crept up, hoping for a peek at the stars, but as they looked through the doorway, they realised it was just the sound of the monitor.

  This episode was way ahead of what was on TV every night after the news. Erin and Heath were breaking up.

  ‘I just don’t reckon I can do this anymore,’ Heath was saying. ‘Not now that you…’

  The tape stopped and sounded like a squirrel as the editor rewound it. Jess couldn’t help herself. ‘Now that you what?’

  The editor, a dark-haired girl not much older than Jess, whipped round.

  ‘What did Erin do?’ begged Jess.

  ‘Ah-ha.’ The editor laughed. ‘If I told you, I
’d have to get rid of you.’

  ‘She got with Toby, didn’t she! Well, didn’t she? You’ve got to tell me!’

  ‘I really can’t.’ The editor grinned. ‘If I do, they’ll get rid of me!’

  ‘Who will?’ said Harrison.

  ‘Oh, you know. Any — all of them. Who are you two, anyway? What are you doing here?’

  Jess and Harrison looked at each other. ‘Gotta go,’ said Jess. But just as they reached the end of the corridor, the door at the other end opened. They didn’t hang around to see who it was.

  Now they were in another corridor. The place was a rabbit warren: at one end stairs; at the other two men talking in front of more glass doors. The light was behind them and the kids couldn’t tell who they were. But the one on the left had something hanging from his belt.

  Handcuffs, maybe.

  No, definitely.

  Why was there so much security? What was the big secret?

  They were whispering now. Handcuffs was showing the other one something on a clipboard. A photo of Harrison? They’d got it from the camera earlier.

  This was bad.

  A mobile rang and the men stopped talking. Handcuffs passed the clipboard over and answered his phone. ‘I got it. I’m on it. I’ll get ‘em.’ Then he looked right in their direction.

  ‘Be cool,’ said Jess. ‘We’ll go the other way.’ Cool wasn’t easy for Harrison. He was all jerky and stiff.

  Jess headed for the stairs.

  ‘We’re not allowed up the stairs,’ Harrison hissed. ‘Red zone. Double red.’ He held the map out.

  ‘No choice,’ she whispered. ‘You heard what that editor said. If they catch you, they get rid of you.’

  ‘I don’t think she meant… ‘

  ‘You heard her. She said, “they’ll get rid of me''.’

  Harrison sneaked a look back at the two men, who’d started walking — towards them. He elbowed Jess aside and took the stairs two at a time.

 

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