Amelia held her breath, waiting for her parents to agree with her. Lloyd put an arm around his daughter and said it seemed like a very good explanation. Estelle nodded her head and smiled.
“Why don’t you go lie down hun. Try to get some sleep, you look exhausted,” she said to her daughter.
Lloyd took both of them by the arm and steered them towards the door.
“I think the two of you should go upstairs and rest. I’ll try and have a quick nap later, right now I need to speak with Jake and get his take on things. I promise I’ll let you know the second we get any news.”
Having watched his wife and daughter climb the stairs together, Lloyd joined the others in the kitchen. He poured himself a coffee, offered some around and then told Jake what he had been discussing in the living room with his family. He watched the detective’s face closely as he waited for an honest answer. Jake ran a hand through his hair, then looked into Lloyd’s eyes as he spoke.
“If Kaden had escaped from kidnappers he would have been in touch by now, agreed?”
Lloyd nodded, grateful for the straight talk.
“If he had been murdered his clothes would have been destroyed, in case they could be traced back to whoever did it. Right now, the most probable explanation is that Kaden staged his own suicide and doesn’t want to be found. Maybe he just flipped after the row with you, but why would he buy new shoes? We need to check his room again to see if any of his clothes are missing. Amelia would probably be a better judge of that,” said the detective.
“We should let her get some rest for now, Jake. She’s worn out, poor kid.”
“Sure Lloyd. It can wait. We know that Kaden didn’t take any money out of his account, but he might have had enough cash on him for a bus ticket. He could also have had a change of clothes in his pick-up. If he sees himself on TV or your interview with the press tomorrow, it might tug at his conscience - seeing how upset you all are, particularly Amelia. This is so out of character that I can’t see him leaving you all worrying for much longer. Go and get some rest, Lloyd. I’ll be here for the evening and if anything happens I’ll come get you.”
Milo had everything he owned stuffed into his backpack and a small sports bag. The station was crowded and he couldn’t find a seat while waiting for the bus he had bought a ticket for. He decided to go to the small cafe down the street so he could sit down for the next hour. As he was slowly sipping his coffee, trying to make it last as long as possible, Milo caught sight of a familiar face on the TV screen above the counter. It was Kaden. He listened intently to the newscast.
“An anonymous tip off to a local newspaper has led police to an area on the river bank where it appears the belongings of missing teenager Kaden Seager have been found. Police are appealing to the public to come forward with any information relating to this find, especially the anonymous caller. They are keeping an open mind as to the whereabouts of the young man. His father, city councillor Lloyd Seager, is too distraught to give any interviews today, but a press conference will be held at the family home tomorrow.”
“Phew! A politician’s son. Good job I’m leaving town. I hope Tuck has done the same. I just have to keep my head down for a few months, that’s all,” Milo thought as he picked up his bags.
Paying for the coffee, he went to get in line for his bus.
“Maybe someone recognized him lying in the street and kidnapped him. If that’s the case, someone should be in touch with his father soon enough. Even if Tuck was caught, he doesn’t know my real name. Nobody on the street uses their own name, so as long as I stay far enough away, I’m fine,” Milo said to himself as the bus pulled up.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kaden woke up, surprised to find himself in a brightly lit room. He was once again aware of the smell of stale urine and knew it was coming from him. He tried to lift his head but found he was still confined to the same stretcher he had been strapped into in the van. While one man in a hospital uniform went around waking up the groaning boys, another one stood at the door shouting for silence.
That got their attention. Some of the teenagers were struggling against the straps and trying to get up. Others stared at the stranger who had a taser in his hand. All of them had headaches. Kaden looked from left to right and saw a sleeping face he vaguely recognized.
“This must be some kind of hospital, but why are we still strapped in. Why does that doctor need a weapon?” he thought, looking at the man still shaking some of the boys to keep them awake.
Then he saw something strapped across the other man’s chest. It was a rifle.
“I’m in prison, but what did I do. Am I a criminal?” thought Kaden, still unable to remember who he was.
Taser man gestured towards the guard by the door.
“See my friend there with the rifle, well he is a good shot, a very good shot and it’s loaded with real bullets. I am going to untie you, so listen carefully. By now you must be aware that you all stink to high heaven, so you will be given fresh clothes and brought to the showers. Don’t cause any trouble and you will be treated well. No questions either, you’ll be told what you need to know in good time.”
As he said this, Taser-man went around each stretcher unfastening the straps, while the other man aimed his weapon at the bewildered young men now trying to stand up. Their bodies were stiff and their heads sore. Some of them sank back down onto their stretchers. Tuck was left where he lay, still unconscious.
To get the blood flowing back into his aching legs, Kaden walked around the stretcher next to him, checking to see if Tuck was coming round. He noticed a scrap of paper sticking out from a clenched fist and bent over to get it. Pretending to rub his calves, he quickly folded the paper and put it in his boot, not his pocket. He reckoned, judging by the smell, that their clothes would be taken to be laundered or maybe even incinerated.
While they were in the wash room nobody was allowed to speak. There were no mirrors but Kaden had seen his reflection in the glass panels on the door of the room they had slept in, and it didn’t jog his memory in any way. He was aware of the swelling around his left eye, and the cuts on his forehead and cheeks stung in the hot water, but worst of all was the pain in his ribs. He saw the bruising and grazes on his rib cage and was grateful to have the ointment to put on afterwards. Taser-man had allowed him to keep the tube of salve that was found in his pocket but took the tablets from him, saying he would be given something later.
As he was drying off, Kaden noticed one of the boys was sniffling and crying to himself. Mindful that they were not to talk to each other and that Rifle-man was standing at the door, he caught the young teenager’s eye and put a finger to his lips warning him to keep quiet. Then he tried to smile to make him feel a little more at ease. This seemed to work and the whimpering stopped, but the sniffling went on. Kaden guessed the poor kid was only about fourteen. He wondered if they might be in a Juvenile Centre and what could he have possibly done to deserve to be there.
On their way back to the room they had woke up in, they passed an open door and Kaden saw Tuck lying on a bed. He was still out cold and hooked up to a drip and there was a smell of vomit wafting out of the room.
“At least I’m conscious and on my feet” thought Kaden as they were herded further along the corridor.
The stretchers had been removed and a table and chairs stood in the centre of the room. The boys were told to sit down and eat the five bowls of stew and the basket of bread that was brought in for them by Taser-man.
“No talking, just eat. Do as you’re told and no harm will come to you. Now, enjoy your meal and remember, my friend over there is watching.”
He pointed in Rifle-man’s direction, then turned and left the room.
They were so hungry the food was gone in no time. Rifle-man shouted down the corridor and ten minutes later Taser-arrived with a tray of coffee, biscuits and what he said were pain killers. The boys were very wary of taking any medication but their headaches were pretty bad and they were told the
pills would help.
“Come on, guys. If we were going to poison you it would have been in the stew. If you don’t take them the headaches will get worse.”
Kaden was the first to swallow his pill and the others followed suit. The group were then brought through the back entrance of the building to a waiting van. They were told to get in and put on the overhauls and jackets that were provided for them. Rifle-man had now been joined by two armed guards. Making a run for it was out of the question. Kaden started to feel a little light-headed and lifting his arms was becoming an effort. Looking at his fellow prisoners he realized that they were suffering from the effects of the pills.
“Why have we been drugged again?” he asked Rifle-man.
“You won’t be knocked out again, don’t worry, you’ll just feel a bit weak that’s all. Now, everyone sit down on those seats.”
As he said this Rifle-man nodded to the two guards, who took off their gun belts and left them on the ground. They jumped up into the van and began to hand cuff each of the boys to the seats they were in. Their feet too were shackled.
Once the young prisoners were well secured a stretcher was wheeled over to the van and lifted up into the centre of it. Kaden looked down on the pale, strained face of Tuck. He was no longer attached to a drip and he must have been washed and changed as there was a clean, antiseptic smell off him. The doors were closed with a loud bang. Sitting quietly in the dimly lit van, nobody dared speak, in case the driver heard them. After fifteen long minutes their eyes had adjusted to the darkness and one of the boys whispered that he was scared. Kaden thought that it was most likely the young guy who had been crying in the wash room. There was silence as they waited to see if the driver had heard, but nothing happened.
“I’m pretty sure they are going to keep us alive, look at all the trouble they’ve gone to,” Kaden said in a hushed voice.
“I know this might seem like a stupid question, but do any of you recognize me?”
Nobody did, and he explained his reason for asking.
“Your face is a bit of a mess. Maybe when the swelling goes down you’ll recognize yourself and remember who you are,” suggested one of his companions, trying to reassure him.
Questions were asked and theories put forward about the situation they were in but nobody could come up with a reasonable explanation. When Kaden asked if they were from wealthy families and might have been kidnapped, they all laughed. He was shocked to hear that they were street kids, and wondered if he was homeless too. The others didn’t think so. The whispered conversations gradually died down until there was silence in the van.
Kaden was woken up from a light sleep by the sounds of someone grunting and struggling. He peered through the dim light and saw the young man on the stretcher trying to sit up.
“Arghhh,” Tuck was straining against the straps that held him down.
His head was killing him and his stomach was heaving.
“You’ll only make yourself feel worse if you keep that up. Do you remember what happened to you?” Kaden asked.
Tuck tried to see the face above him in the darkness and as his eyes adjusted he realized it was the guy he had mugged.
“Who do think you are, my mother?” he snarled.
“I don’t know who I am, or why I’m here, or why my face looks like a train ran over it,” Kaden hissed back.
At that moment a terrible spasm took hold of Tuck’s body and if he hadn’t been strapped down flat he would have curled up in agony. The sight of this calmed Kaden down and he wanted to do something to help but his hands were tied, literally.
“Try to take a deep breath, hold it a few seconds, and release it slowly. It will ease the pain.”
Tuck did as he was told and it helped. There were a few more episodes like that and then a long silence. Kaden thought the guy had gone asleep so he closed his own eyes and tried to do the same.
Now and again one or two of the boys whispered something to each other. Mostly there was just the hum of the engine, which made Kaden feel sleepy. It was a familiar, relaxing feeling and he tried to think why. Suddenly the image of a young girl, about ten years old, sitting in the back seat of a car laughing, flashed before his eyes. It only lasted a few seconds but it was so vivid he could still remember what she looked like.
“I must know her,” thought Kaden, “She seemed so real.”
No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t bring back the image or jog his memory. Eventually, he fell asleep, partly due to the sound of the engine, but mostly because of the pill he’d been given.
Tuck wasn’t asleep. He was thinking hard, which didn’t help the pain in his head.
“The last place I remember is Soup n Sleep with Milo” he said out loud.
One of the boys heard him speak.
“That’s where we all were, except maybe that guy with the beat up face - none of us saw him there. The place was pretty full though because of the bad weather.”
Tuck tried to look at whoever was speaking but couldn’t turn his head around.
“What’s your name, kid?” he asked.
“I’m Smokes, and you’re Tuck. Everyone on the street knows you. Most of us are scared of you, but you look pretty harmless now, from where I’m sitting. I recognized you back at that hospital place. You were in a bad way, are you okay now?”
Tuck couldn’t help but smile, “I know who you are. Smokes is the guy who provides the street with cheap cigarettes but is clever enough not to use them himself. No need to be scared of me, we’re all in the same boat here. We just have to put our heads together and come up with an escape plan.”
In the year 2030 the United Continent of America had banned cigarettes. It was illegal to supply or smoke them, with a penalty of a heavy fine or a prison sentence if caught doing either.
Tuck remembered the piece of paper he had been holding onto when he was given the shot. He must have lost it when he passed out. Maybe there was something that could have been useful on it. He wondered if it had been taken from him while he was unconscious.
“Hey, Smokes, you mentioned a hospital. How long were we in there for?” he asked.
“Not sure, we all woke up there - except for you. You were out cold the whole time. You missed your stew, it tasted real good. I do remember waking up in a van and a guy in dark clothes putting something over my mouth. Next thing I know, I’ve a banging headache and I’m strapped into a stretcher - like you are now. I thought I was in hospital, until I saw the armed guards.”
Tuck thought about this and wondered if they were on their way to a prison.
“You’re wrong, I did wake up back there. I was so sick I threw up all over the place. Then my whole body started to shake, I couldn’t stop it. I think I was having some sort of fit. I remember being lifted up onto a table while I was still strapped into the stretcher. Then someone stuck a needle in my arm, I passed out after that. One thing I never did on the streets was drugs, I didn’t even touch your poison cigarettes, Smokes. Now I’ve been pumped with who-knows-what and I’ve never felt so sick in my life. I’m going to kill whoever did this, first chance I get.”
CHAPTER NINE
Standing outside the library where Martha had told him she worked, Jasper was having second thoughts about going in and asking for her. Having looked for his missing friend everywhere, he didn’t want to go to the police about it - they might decide to keep him in. He didn’t have much information to give them anyway, not even knowing the name of the person he was looking for. Jasper was hoping Martha would go instead. She knew what he looked like and could check out any photos of missing persons they might have. Taking a deep breath, Jasper walked through the doors of the library.
At the desk, a young woman smiled and asked if she could be of any assistance. Jasper cleared his throat and said he would like to speak to Martha if possible as he had a message for her.
“If you go down that aisle over there, right to the end, I think you’ll find her. She’s putting some books back w
here they belong.”
Jasper heard a familiar sound as he got nearer to the woman at the end of the row of bookshelves. It was a tune she softly hummed as she tidied up at the shelter. Turning around, Martha gave him a welcome smile, like she always did.
“Well, you came to visit me. I’m glad you’re here, but I’m sure it’s because something is troubling you, am I right?”
Jasper nodded and shifted nervously from one foot to the other. Martha finished putting the last of the books on the shelves and asked the boy to follow her back to the desk.
“Robyn, I’m going to take my lunch break now, is that okay?”
The young woman nodded.
“You go right ahead, I’ll be fine Martha. It’s quiet today, take your time,” she waved them both away.
Upstairs in the staff room, as Martha prepared lunch, Jasper told her what had been happening since she last saw him.
“Maybe you could go over to the station and have a look at the missing persons’ board to see if he’s on it,” he suggested, “It’s not the kind of place I like to visit voluntarily, if you know what I mean.”
Martha thought about this while she put two large plates of pasta and a basket of garlic bread on the table. Jasper’s mouth watered. The smell was so good. Warm food and not even out of a bin. She saw the look on her young guest’s face and realized how hungry he was.
“Go on, tuck in. I made it last night. I prefer to bring in my own food and heat it up. Saves money and - even if I say so myself - it tastes better than a lot of lunches on offer in the diners around here.”
Jasper couldn’t agree more. He had tasted the food from some of those places, from their bins mostly.
Martha watched him devour her food. Within minutes it was gone and he was mopping up the sauce with his fourth slice of bread.
“I’m sorry, that was rude eating so fast, I didn’t even wait for you to start, did I?”
Jasper looked up from his plate, wearing a guilty expression, and burped. Martha laughed.
“Actually, it’s Robyn you’ll have to apologize to as you’ve just had her lunch. However, she would never have eaten that much and half of it would have ended up in the bin. So I’m glad it wasn’t wasted. She won’t mind, she’ll get something across the street. I think she has her eye on a good looking officer who eats there.”
Finding 01 Finding Kaden Page 5