by A. G. Taylor
7
Hack walked between the cubicles with his arms outstretched. Dead ahead, Hui stood with the snub-nosed Uzi pressed into his friend’s ear and the PS5 tucked under his other arm. Jonesey’s face was drenched with sweat.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “He was too fast.”
“Don’t worry,” Hack replied. “It’s going to be okay.”
Hui pushed Jonesey down onto his knees and placed the gun against the back of his head.
“I’ll give you one last chance to walk away,” Hack said. He held Hui’s eyes this time.
Hui actually smiled. “You’ve got a lot of spirit, kid. But not much of a brain. What a waste.”
He raised the Uzi at Hack…
…who closed his eyes and scanned the surrounding electronics that hadn’t been destroyed by Hui’s bullets – hard drives, LCD screens, adapter sockets stuffed with far too many plugs, even the PS5 console. Summoning all his strength, he prepared to send a blast of mental energy to every device.
“Jonesey!” he yelled. “Hit the deck!”
The other boy flopped face down as Hack threw his arms forward. An invisible wave of energy swept out in all directions from his body. Every piece of machinery within a five-metre radius overloaded, as if their electrical supply had increased tenfold. Tower casings burst open in showers of sparks… Screens exploded… Electrical sockets spewed fire… Broken components filled the air, tearing through the cardboard-thin walls of the cubicles…
In the path of the shockwave, Hui threw his gun hand up to protect his eyes from the flying plastic and metal. Something was burning his other arm. He looked down at the casing of the PS5, which was glowing red-hot. With a cry of pain, he tried to throw it from his grasp, but the plastic had already melted around the skin of his hand. Dropping the Uzi, he desperately tried to pull his burning fingers free, but they had fused into the machine. It had literally become a part of him.
Someone materialized out of nowhere by his side. Hui looked round and saw a European-looking kid. The kid grabbed his elbow.
“Bet you wish you’d left while you had the chance, huh?” Robert said.
The world shifted and Hui blinked in surprise as the shattered cubicles shimmered and faded away. He had the strangest feeling he’d travelled some distance. The unfamiliar kid let go of his arm and slapped his hands together, as if wiping them clean.
He grinned.
And then he disappeared again.
Hui looked left and right. He saw the half-shattered glass cube, the wrecked computer terminals and the remnants of the halon cloud. Somehow he was back in the Goodware office.
“You!” someone shouted at him. “Knees! Now!”
Hui turned his head fractionally. The butt of a gun hit the back of his neck. He went down. A booted foot kicked him over.
“Move again and you’re dead,” spat a guard in body armour, aiming a machine gun at his face. The guard touched a mic at his throat. “Got one of them, sir.”
Hui’s eyes tracked down the left side of his body – the cooling plastic of the PS5 console was now fully melded to his fingers.
“Yessir,” the guard said. “Caught him red-handed.”
Hack helped Jonesey to his feet and brushed the blast wreckage from his shoulders. “Are you okay?”
Jonesey nodded. “Yeah. What about you?”
“Not a scratch.”
Jonesey started as Robert rematerialized beside them.
“It’s okay,” Hack said. “He’s a friend.”
“That guy won’t be bothering you any more,” Robert said. “I left him in the middle of a dozen armed guards. All the same, we shouldn’t hang around here.”
Hack nodded and turned his attention to Jonesey. “You need to get out of the city. Go and lay low with my grandfather in Tai-O. He’ll understand – you can take my room for as long as you need it. Just do me a favour: forget about Goodware Inc. and Ridge Run Rabbit for a while.”
“I’ve had it with them,” Jonesey replied ruefully. Then he frowned. “Where will you be?”
Hack glanced at Robert quickly and then looked back at his friend. “There are other kids like me out there. I have to meet them. See what they have to offer.”
Jonesey threw his arms around him. “Just make sure you come back,” he whispered in his ear.
“Look after my grandfather. Now get out of here.”
Jonesey turned and ran for the fire escape, leaving Hack and Robert alone amid the ruined cubicles. In the distance a police siren whooped and howled, getting closer.
“We should move,” Hack said. “Want to make that call?”
Robert removed a mobile phone from the back pocket of his jeans. Flipping it open, his face fell as the screen remained dark. He pressed a couple of buttons, to no effect.
“I think it got fried by my energy blast,” Hack said sheepishly. He sensed the innards of the machine fused beyond even his repair abilities. “Sorry.”
Robert put the phone away. “Not a problem. There’s a pre-arranged extraction point about a kilometre from here. Tin Hau temple. Do you know it?”
Hack nodded. It was a small Buddhist temple just off Nathan Road – probably about ten minutes away on foot. “I take it a teleport is out of the question?”
“I’m pretty much out of energy for tonight.”
“Then let’s get going.”
They took the fire escape down to ground level and exited via the back entrance of the GC. It was the long way round, but Hack decided that it was best to keep to the side streets as much as possible. For all they knew, Hui had accomplices watching the GC for their exit. Despite the heat of the night, they made a good pace, running side by side through the back alleys, which were all but deserted now that the markets and shops had closed.
“You really saved Jonesey and me tonight,” Hack said as they ran across an intersection. “Sorry for trying to ditch you earlier.”
“Don’t worry,” Robert said. He looked drained after the last two teleports. “I know it’s hard to trust people. That trick back there was pretty cool, by the way. What did you call it?”
“The energy wave?” Hack said. “It was just something I thought would work. I’m still learning what I can do with my power.”
“We all are,” Robert replied with a grin.
Hack took a left towards Nathan Road. Kowloon’s main drag was as busy as ever – cars, buses and scooters fought for space across four lanes of traffic. The street was ablaze with the neon light of a thousand adverts. Every direction was an assault on the eyes, but Hack knew exactly where he was going. The Tin Hau temple was directly opposite. The pedestrian crossing went green and they ran across the street and down the narrow alley that led to the main entrance of the temple.
When it was built in the nineteenth century, the temple had overlooked the bay. Now two kilometres of reclaimed land separated it from the water. It stood amid the noise and chaos of one of Hong Kong’s busiest districts. High-rise buildings overlooked it on all sides. Nevertheless, it retained a strange kind of quietness. The Buddhist temple stood at the far end of a square surrounded by trees and a wall that ran the perimeter. The place was typically deserted this late in the evening, which is why it had been chosen as the extraction point, Hack guessed.
As they entered through the south gate, it appeared they were alone – then Hack noticed something completely out of place and almost hidden in the shadows of one of the trees…
In the centre of the square sat a small, black helicopter – albeit one with no visible rotor blades. A hovercopter. It looked like a fat-bodied beetle sitting in the darkness. A pilot in a jumpsuit stepped from behind the machine as they approached. He had a gun in his hand.
“It’s okay,” Robert told Hack. “He’s with us.” He held up a hand and waved at the pilot. “Our communicator got fried!”
The man ran to meet them, shouting something… Hack looked up and saw the lights of another vehicle floating above the trees… A second hovercopter...
A whooshing sound filled the air as a rocket tore through the trees and hit the vehicle on the ground. The machine exploded in a brilliant ball of flame that threw out lumps of red-hot shrapnel. The blast knocked the pilot forward onto his face. Hack and Robert were hurled backwards as the force of the explosion hit them.
Momentarily stunned, Hack lay on his back looking up at the branches above. A rocket streaked through the air and there was a second explosion – one which lit up the night sky. The second hovercopter was hit.
Robert grabbed Hack’s arm. “It’s coming down!”
Sure enough, the vehicle that had been hovering almost silently above them had become a fiery lump of metal hurtling to earth. The two boys scrambled for their lives, running blindly in the direction of the temple at the far end of the park. As they reached the steps leading up to the building, Hack looked over his shoulder – and saw the second hovercopter fall through the tree, setting its branches ablaze. It hit the ground with a mighty crash, showering more shrapnel about. Hack thought of the pilot with the gun and wondered if he’d managed to avoid the impact – it was impossible to tell in the inferno.
“In here!” Robert exclaimed, kicking open the temple door.
They both ran in and crouched in the shadows on either side of the entrance. The interior of the temple was almost pitch-black. The smell of incense hung thick in the air. Hack pressed his face against the gap where the door met the wall and scanned the fiery mess outside.
“What just happened?” he said, breathing heavily. “I thought HIDRA was supposed to be like a private army or something. Why are people shooting at you?”
“We’ve got powerful enemies,” Robert replied.
“Great. You could have told me that before—”
Gunfire cut him short. Both boys hit the floor as bullets ripped into the brickwork and through the wooden door. A second later, the firing stopped. Hack and Robert exchanged a glance and then looked back through the door. The fire was still blazing, but Hack counted at least four figures crouched by the temple steps.
“Robert Williams!” a man’s voice yelled. The accent was British. “All Major Bright wants is the kid. Send him out and we’ll leave you alone. Make us come in there and you’ll get hurt.”
Major Bright. Hack recognized the name instantly: the scary-looking guy from Jonesey’s internet research. Even in the darkness he was able to see the shock on Robert’s face.
“Bright,” Robert whispered to himself.
“Well, guess we know who’s been following me all week,” Hack said. “So, what’s the plan?”
Robert looked at him with a pained expression. “I don’t have enough energy to teleport both of us out of here…”
Hack understood. “Just yourself, right?”
Robert nodded. “But I’m not leaving you.”
“Oh, yes you are—”
More gunfire flayed the front of the temple.
“You’ve got thirty seconds!” the man yelled.
“You saved me twice tonight, Robert,” he said. “Looks like we’re outgunned this time.” He considered their situation. “What do you think this Bright guy wants with me?”
“I don’t know,” Robert said, “but he’s bad news. If Bright’s taking an interest, it can’t be for anything good.”
“Thanks,” Hack said wryly, “don’t try to sugar-coat it or anything.”
“Twenty seconds!”
“Are you going to get out of here or not?”
Robert hesitated just a moment longer, before reaching inside his jeans pocket and removing a metal object that looked like a miniature gun.
“Give me your arm,” he ordered. Hack rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. Robert held the object against his skin and pressed a trigger. Hack winced as a needle darted in and out of his skin.
“I’ve just injected you with a GPS tracker,” Robert explained. “We’re going to find you and rescue you. I promise.”
“Ten seconds!”
Hack rubbed his arm and pulled his sleeve over the mark. “Okay! Okay! Get out of here!”
Robert nodded – and disappeared.
Suddenly, crouched in the darkness of the temple, Hack felt more alone than he ever had in his life.
“Time’s up!”
Hack pulled open the temple door and stepped outside. He felt the heat from the burning hovercopters on his skin and held up a hand to shield his eyes from the light. Four towering men approached – each holding a rifle in his hands and dressed in combat gear.
The one whose voice Hack recognized as the leader said, “That’s a good boy.” He was thin-faced to the point of looking like a skeleton – not a nice look. Two days’ worth of greasy stubble adorned his face and a name tag on his chest read Kotler. He turned to one of the others. “Prep him for transport.”
Two of the men grabbed his arms while another threw a hood over his head, drawing a cord tight around his neck so it stayed in place. They pinned his arms behind his back and secured his wrists with a plastic tie, leaving his ankles free so he could walk unassisted. The hood was heavy and incredibly claustrophobic. Hack’s breath came in ragged gasps as he began to panic.
“Take it easy,” one of the men said, grabbing his arm and shaking him. “Just breathe slowly.”
He did just that and his heart rate regulated. The panic began to subside. He was led away blindly by the soldier as gunfire erupted behind them. Hack assumed they were shooting up the temple and was very glad that Robert had teleported away.
The door of a vehicle slid open noisily and he was thrown onto a metal floor. Seconds later, the engine started and the vehicle screeched away at high speed. Hack fought to rise into a sitting position, but a heavy boot pushed him back again.
“Keep down,” Kotler’s voice said. “Or I’ll put you down.”
Hack did as he was told and lay still. Having survived falling off a building and being shot at by an insane Triad member all in one evening, he now found himself a prisoner.
He just hoped Robert had one more rescue in him.
8
Hack tried to keep track of time as he lay on the floor of the van. He estimated that an hour passed before it skidded to a halt – long enough to reach the outskirts of the city. It was impossible to tell for sure with the hood over his head, but he guessed they had driven towards the New Territories in the north, or even the border with mainland China. Doors opened. One of the soldiers pulled him roughly to his feet and guided him along. After a few metres they ascended a slope and, from the sound of engines and the vibration of the room, Hack sensed that he had been loaded aboard a plane.
He was made to sit (not easy with his wrists bound behind his back). The engine noise increased in volume and the plane began to move. As it picked up speed, Hack felt the vehicle angle up and he realized they were taking off. Where was he being taken? It could be anywhere. He began to breathe too fast again as the panic rose. Keep it together, he told himself. You’ve survived this far.
The plane levelled off and seconds later boot-steps approached. Someone loosened the cord around his neck and pulled away the hood. Hack’s vision swam as his eyes adjusted to the light.
Sure enough, he was inside a plane. This was no passenger jet, however. The interior was a bare cylinder with benches along either side of the fuselage. At one end metal crates stood next to a ramp. Because the cabin was not pressurized, the engines were deafening. Hack realized that he was on some kind of military transport – in the rear cargo bay, by the looks of it. Directly in front of him, a bearded soldier stood with the hood in one hand.
“I’m gonna cut your wrist bindings,” he said. “Try anything stupid and I’ll put the hood back on your head. Understand?”
Hack nodded to show he understood very much. The plastic bindings had long since started to dig into his skin, stopping circulation in his arms. The soldier removed a wicked-looking knife from his boot and signalled for Hack to get up. He cut the restraint cleanly and replaced the knife.
Hack rubbed some blood back into his wrists and thanked the man.
“Sit down and behave,” the soldier said, giving him a shove towards the bench.
Hack sat and continued to massage his numb arms. The soldier took the bench opposite and stared ahead blankly. The man’s uniform was coloured camouflage green, but Hack saw no flag or emblems indicating any country. His accent was British, like the man in charge at the temple, but Hack didn’t think he was with the British army – or any army, in fact. He was a mercenary – a soldier for hire to the highest bidder and, as such, could be working for anyone.
“Where are we going?” Hack asked.
The soldier’s eyes focused on him. “Shut up or I’ll gag you.”
Hack looked at his feet. As the feeling came back into his arms he sensed an ache above his left elbow and remembered the tracking device Robert had injected. The thought that someone knew and cared where he was being taken was the only glimmer of hope he had.
At least half an hour passed before the door at the other end of the cargo bay opened and two more soldiers entered. They took positions on either side of the entrance as a third person stepped into the room: a thin man in his thirties dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, looking completely out of place beside the bulked-up mercenaries. He pushed his thick glasses back on his nose as he scanned the interior of the cargo hold. His eyes fell on Hack and he smiled as if recognizing an old friend. Hack, for his part, knew the man’s face well enough, although they’d never met in person…
Marlon Good – the head of Goodware Inc.
“So, you’re the kid who bypassed all my security systems,” he said. His American-accented voice was reedy and almost drowned out by the roar of the engines, so he moved closer to Hack. He offered his hand for the boy to shake. Hack didn’t take it.
Marlon Good said, “No hard feelings, huh?”
“You… You stole Jonesey’s game.”
Good’s face fell, as if he were hurt by the accusation. “Oh, come on! Your friend sent me a shoddy little idea ripped off from Robot Unicorn Attack. I took it and made it into one of the best-selling apps on the planet! You’re not seriously suggesting that he deserves any credit, are you?”