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The Hostage

Page 13

by Sophie McKenzie


  Ed shuffled along beside me. He wasn’t saying much but I could tell from the way his shoulders were hunched and his hands shoved deep inside his trouser pockets that he was extremely nervous. I glanced round as we walked down a dirt track. No sign of Foster – just hordes of people: families, groups of teenagers, couples, all laughing and smiling at the funfair rides.

  Suddenly I had the sense we were being watched. I’d had it before, both when we got on and off the underground. I shook myself. I was just being paranoid. Foster probably wasn’t even here yet.

  We passed a carousel, some smaller kids’ rides, then a couple of bigger, faster ones. Amusement stands were everywhere, selling candyfloss and those giant teddy bears you get if you hook the right-numbered duck with a pole. Fairy lights sparkled along the sides of the stands and the air was filled with the smell of generators and hot dogs and the sound of ancient rock tracks, half muffled by the wind.

  I had a sudden memory of a very different funfair – the one where I’d won the troll doll for Lex. It was almost a year ago, before I’d started at Fox Academy. Mum and Dad were over on a visit and Lex and I had walked through the funfair to meet them for lunch.

  Mum and Dad had been in a good mood. Normally when we saw them everything was fine for about thirty minutes and then the old tensions would start up again. But for once that didn’t happen . . . Dad didn’t lecture Lex about going to uni and Mum didn’t nag me about my clothes being scruffy or try to persuade me I should stop spending so much of my time running and ‘take that string out of your hair and do something fun, darling, like ballroom dancing’.

  Back then, the sun had shone and I hadn’t even heard of the Medusa gene. I sighed, turning my attention back to today where the light was just fading and a cool evening breeze rippled across the Heath.

  As we reached the waltzer, Dylan stopped. ‘I can see the dodgems a couple of rides down,’ she said. ‘We might as well wait here a minute, once we go closer I won’t be able to talk to you.’ Something behind me caught her eye and she looked up.

  I checked the time. Ten minutes to go until the meeting with Foster.

  And then a hand grabbed my arm.

  19: A revelation

  ‘What the hell kind of plan is this?’ Nico’s voice hissed in my ear.

  I spun round. It was him. Really him. My mouth fell open.

  Nico drew me aside and lowered his voice. ‘Were you leaving me out again, Ketty?’

  I stared at him. All the sights and sounds of the funfair disappeared. I completely forgot Dylan and Ed, standing nearby, and the meeting with Foster in just a few minutes’ time.

  All I could see were Nico’s deep, dark eyes and his smooth, olive-skinned face. A strand of hair fell over his cheek. He brushed it away.

  ‘Well?’ he said.

  Was he still angry? Why would he be here if he was still angry?

  ‘You . . . you wouldn’t talk to me . . .’ I stammered. ‘I couldn’t ask you to be part of this, you wouldn’t speak to—’

  ‘Only because you didn’t trust me.’

  ‘I told you, I was trying to protect you.’

  We stood silently for a second. A couple of kids shrieked past us, fighting over a candyfloss stick. And then Nico’s eyes softened.

  ‘I know.’ His voice was heavy. ‘Ed told me that too . . . at the end of our French class. Then Dylan found me between lessons and said I was a jerk for not listening to you. They both seemed to think I should be here to help.’

  I followed Nico’s gaze to where the others were standing. Ed was half turned away, looking embarrassed. Dylan was staring straight at us, an ironic glint in her eye.

  I stood, letting what Nico had said sink in. The others had spoken to him . . . asked him to come with us . . .

  ‘So Ed and Dylan knew you were following us?’ As I said the words, I remembered the sense I’d had earlier that we were being watched.

  ‘No,’ Nico said. ‘I mean, I said I’d think about it but they didn’t know. I guess they didn’t want to say anything to you in case I didn’t show up.’

  ‘So . . . so you’re just here because of Ed and Dylan . . .’ I said slowly, ‘because they asked you to come?’

  A heavy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. It was good he was here, of course. Good for Dylan. Particularly good for Ed, who was going to be in the most vulnerable position. And yet, when I’d seen Nico I’d hoped that, just maybe, he’d come along because he’d forgiven me. Because he wanted us to be together again.

  ‘That’s not the whole reason.’ A grin crept across Nico’s face.

  My heart jumped with hope. Did that mean it was partly for me? I moved closer, everything else forgotten, my eyes straining to read his expression.

  ‘I’m still mad at you for not telling me, though . . .’ Nico’s grin widened. ‘What were you thinking? You won’t stand a chance on your own against Foster. You might as well be armed with flowers. I mean Dylan can help, but—’

  ‘So you’re saying I’m incompetent?’ I beamed at him.

  ‘No, I’m saying you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.’ Nico laughed and my heart flipped over in my chest and suddenly I knew why I hadn’t wanted Ed to know Nico and I were together. It was partly to spare Ed’s feelings. But it was mostly because I was scared.

  Scared of admitting to anyone how much I liked Nico.

  Scared of admitting it to myself.

  I glanced at the time again. Still six minutes until Ed and I were due to meet Foster.

  Dylan came over, arms folded.

  ‘Is it time?’ Nico asked.

  ‘Let’s get in position,’ she said.

  ‘Right.’ Ed looked nervous, though he was clearly relieved now Nico was here.

  ‘Wait. There’s something I want to tell you both.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Nico and I are going out together. At least we are if he still wants to.’

  There. I’d said it.

  I waited for their shocked reactions, my face burning.

  But to my astonishment, Dylan just rolled her eyes. ‘Like that’s a surprise to anyone.’

  I glanced at Ed.

  ‘It was kind of obvious, Ketty . . .’ He shrugged. His face was bright red. ‘I mean everyone at school assumed you two were together at the beginning of term.’

  What? I stared harder at him, willing him to look at me properly. He met my eyes and with that, now familiar, sucking feeling he was inside my head.

  My thoughts reared up before I could stop them: I thought you’d be cross or upset that I was going out with Nico so soon after breaking up with you.

  Not cross. And only upset for a bit, because you deserve the best. I never thought you’d go out with me for long, anyway. Ed’s thought was measured and careful. I had the strong sense he was holding something back, but he broke the connection and turned, immediately, to Dylan, asking her some detail about how close to Foster she was planning to stand.

  I looked up at Nico.

  ‘What did Ed “say” just then?’ he whispered. He sounded wary, but not jealous.

  ‘He just said I deserved the best,’ I whispered back.

  ‘You do, babe.’ Nico grinned. ‘What d’you think I am?’

  I couldn’t help but grin back. And yet the whole thing still didn’t quite make sense.

  ‘So if everyone knew about us, why didn’t anyone say anything?’ I asked, quietly.

  ‘Maybe because it’s not really that big a deal to anyone else.’

  I let this sink in.

  ‘Come on, it’ll be fine,’ Dylan said to Ed. She turned to me and Nico and pointed towards the dodgems. ‘We should go. Ed and Ketty need to be waiting for Foster by the cars. I’m going to hang by that cotton candy stall. Nico – you get behind a tree and get ready in case you have to do your thing.’

  ‘Bossy as ever, I see,’ Nico murmured as we followed her.

  ‘Everyone already knows about us?’ I whispered. ‘Really?’

  Nico squeezed my hand. ‘L
ike I said, it’s not that much of a big deal to anyone else . . .’ He paused. ‘Just to me.’

  I stopped, my heart beating fast. ‘And me,’ I said.

  We looked at each other for a second. Then Nico shook himself.

  ‘Go with Ed,’ he ordered. ‘And be careful. I’ll be over there.’ He pointed at a nearby tree, squeezed my hand again, then sped off.

  I walked on to the dodgems. The cars were waiting to race, music blasting out over the PA. As I reached Ed, my phone rang.

  It was Foster.

  ‘Change of plan,’ he said smoothly. ‘I’m at the big wheel. Go there, now.’

  20: Big wheel

  Ed was shaking as we approached the big wheel. As the tallest ride at the funfair it was easy enough to spot at the end of a big row of amusement arcade style stands. The two-minute walk over here had strung out every nerve in my body. I hadn’t dared look round to see if I could spot either Nico or Dylan. They must both have seen me take the phone call – and as they hadn’t rushed over when Ed and I started walking away from the dodgems, I could only assume they were watching us still.

  Foster was waiting beside the queue for the ride. There were at least ten sets of people waiting to get on as the big wheel slowly turned, offloading and reloading its passengers.

  ‘Hello, Ketty.’ Foster met my gaze, his expression calm and even. ‘And this must be Ed.’ He held out his hand.

  Ed shook it, carefully keeping his eyes away from Foster’s.

  Foster looked round. ‘I see no police . . .’ He gave us a thin-lipped smile. ‘No adult agents . . . Well done. Now let’s take a ride.’

  ‘What?’ Startled, I glanced at the big wheel behind us. ‘On that?’

  ‘No.’ Ed’s voice shook. He rubbed his forehead.

  ‘Yes.’ Foster gripped my wrist. ‘We can’t talk in front of all these people and you’re a pair of idiots if you think I’m going anywhere more private with that other friend of yours roaming around – Nico. Yes, I’m sure he’s here somewhere, so don’t bother denying it.’

  I glanced sideways at the queue. It was still long. At least that gave us a bit of time. Ed’s face was white.

  But Foster gave my wrist a tug. ‘Come on.’ He pushed me towards the head of the queue. ‘We don’t have to wait.’

  I stumbled the few steps it took to reach the base of the wheel, Ed beside me. A greasy-haired girl was collecting tokens, then allowing passengers onto the wheel. As we reached her, Foster slipped a note into her palm. The girl pocketed the cash and shoved us forward, ahead of the people at the head of the queue, ignoring their protests.

  Foster pushed me into the seat. It was low and free-swinging, with a bar that lowered in front. I sat down hard on the cold metal. Foster placed himself beside me, pulling Ed in after him.

  The greasy-haired girl shoved the bar in front of us down. It clicked into place just over our legs. The seat lurched. Someone in the queue behind gave a low grumble but the girl muttered something and they shut up.

  The seat swung upwards. The air was cooler now, away from everyone. I sat, stunned, for a second. How had everything happened so fast?

  I looked past Foster and a terrified Ed, down to the ground. I spotted Dylan straight away, her red hair like a beacon in a sea of brown and black. The wheel stopped for a moment, letting on its last set of passengers, then began its slow rotation again.

  Foster sat back. ‘You have approximately two minutes, Ed. I suggest you tell me what you know.’

  Ed’s face was as white as his knuckles, clutching the bar in front. He didn’t look capable of speech, let alone mind-reading. My heart pounded. I could almost feel the adrenalin surge as we reached the top of the wheel’s range. North London was spread out around us. Tiny trees and roads and houses that looked like they belonged to dolls. Over to the north-east I could see what I guessed must be Alexandra Palace then, beyond that, a row of skyscrapers.

  ‘Ed?’

  He didn’t reply. My heart was thumping against my chest now. Lights flashed in front of my eyes. A sweet heavy smell filled the air. A vision was coming. No. I fought it back, trying to calm my breathing. But the force of it was too huge. Too strong.

  Corridors again. Can’t see where. Running. Dylan beside me. It’s dark. It’s night time.

  I snapped out of the vision. So that was why I hadn’t been able to see those corridors properly. I was running through them at night, in the dark.

  I glanced hurriedly over at Foster. He was still waiting for Ed to speak. He hadn’t noticed my eyes glaze over.

  ‘Ed,’ I said again, more forcefully. ‘Do it.’

  Ed nodded. He wiped his sweaty hands on his chinos. Then he looked up, right into Foster’s eyes.

  Foster stiffened, his gaze losing its focus. Ed had him.

  ‘You have to hold him like that until we get back down,’ I said.

  ‘I know.’ Ed’s voice wavered. ‘Damn, this is hard.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  But Ed didn’t reply. I turned my attention to the ground. I found Dylan again. A tiny dot, standing with her face upturned towards us. Nico was beside her, also looking up. The wheel began its descent.

  Down, round, up and down again.

  Ed was frowning, his forehead creased with lines.

  I suddenly realised what a vulnerable position we were in. Once Ed broke the connection at the end of the ride, we were going to have to move fast to get away from Foster.

  I chewed on my lip. Ed was very pale now – and still frowning. It looked like he was having some sort of problem reading Foster.

  Oh, God, oh God.

  The wheel reached the bottom of its axis and swung forward again. I caught sight of Dylan and Nico again, their faces anxious. Adrenalin surged through me again as the wheel got higher. Flashing lights sparkled in front of my eyes. No. I tried to stop the vision, but it was too strong.

  Corridors. I’m running. I’m scared. Turning corners. Dylan beside me. I can hear her footsteps . . . her shallow breathing . . . Up ahead a room. I have to get in there. There’s something inside I have to reach. Closer. I grab the door.

  I snapped out of the vision, gasping for breath.

  The wheel was at the very top of its climb. We swung for a second, then moved down again. We stopped with a jolt. My stomach lurched. The people in the seats in front were squealing with delight. Down below, one of the big wheel compartments was emptying and being refilled with new passengers. That meant the ride was over, didn’t it . . . we’d be able to get off in a minute.

  Ed was still frowning, his breath rapid and jerky. He didn’t look good. His face was completely drained of colour, his eyes in agony. I suddenly realised he wouldn’t last until we reached the bottom. That Foster was making something about the mind-reading too difficult for him.

  The wheel swung down again, then stopped. More passengers below got out. Three more stops until it was our turn.

  I had to find some way of restraining Foster so Ed could break free.

  I looked round frantically. There was nothing in the seat area to help. I stared at the bar over our laps. Maybe if I could tie Foster to that, then Ed could break the connection. Ye s . Foster would be held fast, Ed could get his breath back and we’d have a head start for getting away once we were back on the ground.

  What could I use to tie Foster up with? I glanced at my own clothes. Nothing. I looked at Ed. His chinos were fastened with a slim brown leather belt. There. I reached past Foster and unbuckled the belt. The seat swung crazily as I tugged at the belt, yanking it through the loops in Ed’s trouser waistband. I could feel his body tensing as I worked.

  ‘I’m going to tie Foster up,’ I explained. ‘Then you can break free.’

  The wheel lowered again. We swung to a standstill. Two more stops.

  Ed groaned. What was Foster doing to him?

  At last the belt came completely free. I looped it round the bar in front of us, then took Foster’s hands and wound the belt tightly round his wris
ts. I tied it in three knots, tugging as hard as I could. Now Foster was tied to the bar. When the bar rose he would still be held there, while we got away. Of course Foster would be able to work the belt loose eventually, but it should give us a bit of time.

  ‘It’s okay, Ed, you can end the connection.’

  Ed groaned again. His face was screwed up with concentration. ‘I can’t,’ he gasped.

  One more stop.

  ‘You have to.’ My voice rose in panic. ‘We’re going to have to get off in a second.’

  With a roar, Ed tore his eyes away from Foster. And then everything happened at once.

  Ed retched. He leaned forward, hanging over the bar and heaving like he was going to vomit. Foster yelled. A huge, frustrated roar of pure rage. He tugged at the belt tying his wrists to the bar in front, then turned on me, shouting and swearing at me to undo it.

  I shrank back in the corner as the wheel stopped again, then swung forward once more. The few seconds it took to reach the bottom seemed an eternity. As we stopped again, our feet finally on solid ground, Foster stopped yelling. His whole body pulsed with rage. I shrank further away, trembling.

  Ed sat back, his face ashen.

  The greasy-haired girl from before walked over. She stared at Ed, open-mouthed. ‘You okay, love?’ the girl asked.

  Ed nodded.

  Still looking at him, the girl grabbed the bar and lifted it off us. Foster hands, still tied to the bar, rose as she did so.

  ‘Help me, please,’ he said politely. ‘My niece and nephew have played a prank.’

  The girl stared, dully, at his tied wrists. ‘What the—?’

  I was already up and squeezing past Foster. I grabbed Ed’s hand and hauled him off the big wheel. As I pushed past the girl, Nico appeared.

  ‘Jesus Christ, Ketty—’

  ‘Come on, let’s get Ed out of here.’

  Nico hooked one of Ed’s arms around his shoulder and half carried, half dragged him away from the ride. Dylan was at the base of the big wheel steps, pushing people back to let us through.

 

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