by Bali Rai
You can’t do that. I’ll change it back!
Not if you can’t log in.
I’ve already changed it.
Yes, I know – DALBIR_1975 – what a very silly name. Whose is it – darling dead daddy?
I felt sick when I read my dad’s name. It wasn’t just that he knew it. It was that he had used my dad’s death to reel me in when we’d first become friends. So much bullshit, so many lies . . .
Once again, I struggled to stay in control.
None of your business.
It doesn’t matter anyway. I changed the password again. During that little hiatus . . .
I don’t believe you?
No? Try logging off then – see where you get.
I sat back and took some deep breaths. My eyes were aching and my mouth dry. A sudden shiver worked its way down my spine. Benedict, or whoever he was, might as well have been sitting next to me. He knew everything . . .
Why did you pick on me and Max? Amy, even?
Who’s Max?
You know Max – my friend – the one who died?
No – can’t recall – describe him to me. And this Amy – sounds like a fat girl’s name. Not that I’d know her, of course.
You’re sick! Twisted in the head!
I’m whatever I choose to be. And right now, I choose to be bored by you. Have you lost any weight yet?
Fuck off.
Seriously – like, baby orca is such a bad look, babe. Benedict wouldn’t want all that blubber rubbing against his six-pack, now would he?
This had gone too far. My arms itched for no reason – the edges of my scalp too. But I had to keep my bravado up – at least on screen.
What if I’m round the corner, Lily? Watching from underneath the streetlight down the road? Staring at you undressing from the garden opposite? Behind you as you walk to school? So many what ifs, Lily . . . What if I live in the street behind yours – next door to Tilly, maybe?
My heart began to thud in my chest . . .
How do you know where she lives?
The same way I know your address. The same way I know about all of you.
The shiver returned, and brought more for the ride. My palms were damp and my heart felt like it was being kicked. My tongue felt like a dried-out sponge in my mouth. He was telling me that he knew me – that he knew my friends . . .
Are you watching Tilly too?
What a ridiculous question, Lily. How else would I know her address? You really are a winning combination: dumb and fat . . .
The police will catch you.
They might – but not before . . .
What? – before what?
What was he going to do? Had I made a mistake by winding him up like this? If he hurt someone else because I’d pushed him into it, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
Wait and see. It’s been a real pleasure. Lily. Time to say goodbye. Benedict is heading for the great trash can in the cyber-sky.
Wait!
Do you like to sleep, Lily?
What?
Sleep, Lily – do you like it?
Yes.
How does it feel then?
How does what feel?
Knowing that after tonight, you’ll never sleep again?
You don’t have that power over me.
Not online. But I will out there. Oh, by the way, I’m looking forward to meeting your mum.
The knife twisted a last time and cut through to my heart. I started to shake and my vision blurred. He didn’t mean it, did he? He was just playing a game – surely?
Not my mum . . .
You leave her out of this!
Why would I do that? She’s quite attractive and, like your friend, I do enjoy a nice MILF . . .
I thought you didn’t know Max?
Who’s Max?
You shit!
Goodnight Lily. See you very soon . . .
The Spider wonders how many people truly understand the Dark Web. The place beneath the shiny thing that most people access via Google or some other money-spinning machine.
What most people see is only the beginning. What the masses think of as the never-ending, World Wide Web is just the start. The bit that peeks out. Underneath sits the rest. The other ninety per cent.
Like the sea floor, it’s dark down there. And just like the sea floor, it is a wilderness left uncharted. All kinds of monsters lurk in the depths – from terrorists to paedophiles and secret organizations. Want to buy illegal porn, snuff movies, a live grenade or a kilo of heroin? Just jump in and all will be revealed . . .
Much of it is wasteland – abandoned websites and billions of bytes of searches carried out in the Internet’s infancy. That’s what makes it such a great place to hide. It is lawless – a brave new frontier full of derelict cities and towns. A Wild West, if you like.
But you have to know how to breathe down there. You have to know the rules and have a map. The unwary, the untrained and the tourists are prey for the experts. And the Spider is certainly an expert.
And once this foray above water is complete, he will dive back in and head for the bottom. Hide out until he is ready to start again . . .
29
‘My head’s hurting again.’
Mum gave me a funny look – half concerned, half sceptical. She was ready for work, standing in the living room, a mug of coffee in her hand. ‘Have you taken paracetamol?’ she asked.
‘Not this morning,’ I told her. ‘Took two last night but they didn’t help. Feel a bit sick too.’
Mum put down her mug and felt my forehead. ‘Feels OK,’ she said, ‘but you look terrible.’
‘Couldn’t sleep,’ I replied.
‘I know it’s been a horrendous few weeks, but is there something you’re not telling me?’
I fought back the urge to climb onto her knee and tell her everything like I would have done as a kid.
‘I haven’t seen Tilly for a while,’ she added, looking right into my eyes.
‘She’s busy, Mum – exams?’ I replied.
I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to tell her everything about Benedict – to get her advice – but something was stopping me. It wasn’t shame or anything – I was just scared. What if she didn’t understand and got angry with me? That was the last thing I wanted. My relationship with Tilly was already in trouble. I didn’t want to upset Mum too. I couldn’t handle that.
‘I’ll call the office,’ she said after a moment. ‘Try and go in after lunch time, if you’re feeling better. You can’t keep missing school, Lily.’
‘I’ll try,’ I replied.
When Dr Woods saw the post about Molly, I would be in deep shit. My mum might discover what I’d been doing before I’d worked up the courage to tell her. I went to make tea, when something caught my eye. The red failed-delivery card for the webcam still sat on a pile of letters, staring back at me, as it waited to be recycled.
I walked over and studied it. I’d found it after Mr Samuels had given me the package – it had been lost under a pile of my mum’s letters. There was a date on it, and my address. Under the reason for nondelivery were several tick boxes describing what kind of parcel it had been. The one for international delivery hadn’t been crossed. A barcode and delivery number were stuck to the bottom.
I already knew that Benedict wasn’t from New York – he’d pretty much admitted it. But the card might prove where the webcam was posted. The delivery number might pinpoint exactly where he was. I wondered whether I could ring Royal Mail and ask them.
There was only one way to find out.
The number connected quickly, and I selected the option to speak to an operator. The woman who picked up was Scottish.
‘How may I help you?’
‘Er . . .’ I began. ‘I’ve got this card about a delivery and—’
‘Would you like to rearrange a time and date?’ the woman asked me. Her tone was plastic and pleasant at the same time. Practised, I guess.
‘No – I’ve go
t the parcel. I just wanted to know where it came from. Can I do that?’
‘Don’t you know where?’ the woman asked.
‘No,’ I replied.
‘I don’t know if that’s possible,’ she told me. ‘Hold please . . .’
I waited for two minutes, staring at the card in my hand and hoping.
‘Hello there, Miss . . .?’
‘Basra,’ I replied. ‘Lily Basra.’
‘I’ve spoken to my supervisor, Miss Basra, and we can’t divulge any private address because we wouldn’t know it.’
‘But I need to send it back,’ I replied, thinking on my feet.
‘I see,’ she said, her tone now guarded. ‘You didn’t order it?’
I thought fast. ‘No,’ I replied. ‘It’s worth lots of money and I think it was sent by mistake. I can’t keep it – that would be wrong.’
She didn’t go for it. ‘Then, Miss Basra, you’ve got a lovely little surprise,’ she told me. ‘Enjoy it. The sender can always ask for it, if they’re concerned. After all, they have your address.’
‘Can you at least tell me which city?’
The woman coughed. ‘Can’t see why not,’ she told me.
I gave her the barcode number when asked, and waited.
‘That particular parcel was sorted at our Centurion Way office, in Leicester . . .’
My ears started to buzz, and my forehead creased. ‘Sorry – did you just say Leicester?’
‘Yes – that’s correct.’
I dropped the card as my heart started to beat faster. My skin prickled and a felt a wave of panic. ‘Can you tell me which post office?’
‘I’m afraid not – but it will be in Leicester somewhere.’
‘OK,’ I replied, my right leg shaking.
‘Is there anything else, hen?’
‘Er . . . no,’ I managed. ‘Thanks for your help.’
‘You’re very welcome. Have a fantastic morning.’
I rang off and sat at the kitchen table. My phone vibrated several times but I ignored it. My mouth had dried up and my leg continued to tremble. I tried to stop it with my hand, but nothing happened. I was so afraid that I wanted to cry. Whoever he was, he was in Leicester . . .
I spent the next few hours pacing the house, unable to settle down to anything. The doorbell sounded just after midday. After checking carefully, I opened up. It was Kane.
‘Good job you didn’t come to school,’ he told me. ‘Things are crazy.’
‘I’m in serious trouble, aren’t I?’ A sense of impending doom overcame me as I waited for Kane to reply.
‘Dr Woods asked everyone where you were. Warren and Dhindsa too.’
‘What did you say?’
Kane shrugged. ‘Nothing,’ he replied. ‘Mr Thomas said you should call him.’
‘Dave?’
‘Yeah,’ said Kane. ‘He was with Dr Woods.’
‘Great – that means Mum will find out.’
The thought of that brought more panic. Kane half smiled and calmed me down.
‘You can’t hide, Lily,’ he pointed out. ‘Best just be honest. I’ll back you up – Alfie too.’
I smiled back weakly. I wasn’t totally convinced. ‘Was Tilly at school?’
‘Nope,’ he said.
‘Shit!’
I wondered where she was – I still hadn’t heard from her. What was she thinking about all the stuff on Facebook? She wouldn’t really think I’d do something like that, would she?
‘I tried calling Tilly but she didn’t pick up,’ he added. ‘Danny tried too.’
‘Go into the kitchen,’ I said. ‘Be there in a mo.’
I went up to my room. My PC was sleeping. I roused it and checked my Facebook page. Benedict hadn’t lied – he’d logged me out, and I couldn’t get back in. I tried again but the screen froze, then died. I tried to restart it but nothing happened. It was dead. I grabbed a thin hooded top and went downstairs.
‘I had a chat with Benedict last night.’
Kane looked expectant.
‘I told him I knew,’ I said. ‘He didn’t seem too bothered.’
‘Why did you do that?’ he asked, concern all over his face.
‘I was angry, Kane – I wanted to show him that he can’t push me around,’ I replied, feeling a little foolish.
‘I get that,’ he told me, ‘but I don’t want you hurt and he’s dangerous, Lily. You should have done it when I was with you, like we said. I can protect you.’
I wanted to smile but it would have been ill-timed. Instead, I just nodded. ‘He threatened my mum,’ I admitted.
‘What?’
‘Yeah – said he was looking forward to meeting her. It was horrible.’
‘You shouldn’t have confronted him,’ said Kane. ‘If I ever get my hands on him, I swear he’ll be sorry.’
‘He’s locked me out of Facebook too,’ I continued. ‘Changed my password. I was gonna call you but it was late.’
‘Shall I take a look?’ he offered.
‘No point,’ I said. ‘My PC is dead.’ I saw the delivery card, back on the waste-paper pile, waiting to be recycled. ‘Oh, I checked on the webcam – with Royal Mail.’
‘How do you mean?’ he asked.
‘I wanted to find out where it came from,’ I explained. ‘Like, where in the UK. It was posted in Leicester.’
Kane gasped. ‘Nah?’
I nodded. Neither of us spoke for a little while. Then Kane suggested we go back to his.
‘Is Alfie around?’ I asked.
‘Don’t think so,’ said Kane. ‘I’ll call him on the way – see where he is.’
Suddenly I got cold feet. What if the hacker was out there, waiting for me? What if he was watching the house? But then I looked at Kane. I’d be fine if he was with me. It would be different when I was alone, though.
‘We need to stop at Tilly’s house on the way,’ I said, after calming myself. I was thinking about Benedict’s admission that he was watching her too. I had to warn her.
‘Why?’
‘To tell her what’s going on,’ I replied. ‘Benedict said he knew about all of us – that must mean he’s hacked into Tilly’s computer too. I need to warn her.’
‘Really?’ asked Kane.
‘Makes sense,’ I said, ‘if we all downloaded the virus from Amy’s video.’
The walk only took a minute. Tilly’s house was like mine – semi-detached with a little porthole window for the box room. Weeds grew through cracks in the faded grey tarmac, and her mum’s hanging baskets were rusting. Despite the warm weather, every window I could see was closed. I rang the bell and we waited.
‘She’s not in,’ said Kane after a minute.
‘Or not answering,’ I replied.
I tried again, twice more, with the same result. I thumped my hand against the glass. ‘Tilly!’
‘Sshhh!’ said Kane. ‘You’ll piss the neighbours off.’
‘Stuff ’em,’ I told him. ‘TILLY!!’
I stood back and watched the windows for movement. Nothing.
‘Come on,’ said Kane. ‘We ain’t getting anywhere standing here.’
‘Let me call her,’ I said.
When she didn’t answer, I sent Tilly a text – urging her to reply. ‘We have to warn her,’ I repeated. I was getting panicky now.
‘I know,’ replied Kane. ‘But if she’s not around, how can we?’
We took the main road and headed towards Oadby’s centre. The traffic was heavy due to roadworks, and I prayed that someone from school wouldn’t spot us.
‘This was a stupid idea,’ I said. ‘Should have gone the back way. We’ll get seen.’
‘Who cares now?’ asked Kane. ‘Things are already messed up enough.’
He was wearing grey combats with white trainers and a yellow zipped top by Adidas. Every now and then, I caught a waft of his aftershave. He was right. Everything we knew – what good was any of it? How could we stop Benedict or whoever he was? We needed help.
&n
bsp; ‘We should call DC Evans or her boss,’ I said as we passed Waitrose.
‘I thought that last night,’ he replied. ‘That we should tell her everything.’
‘She’ll probably think we’re nuts,’ I told him. ‘Like, what evidence have we actually got?’
‘I guess,’ he replied. ‘Thing is, Lily – what else can we do?’
Before I could reply my phone vibrated against my leg. It was Danny again.
Have you gone mental????
I gulped down air and felt my insides grow cold.
‘What?’ Kane asked, reacting to the change in my expression.
I showed him my phone.
‘You think he’s done something else – on Facebook?’
I nodded, my heart sinking.
Kane got out his Samsung phone and checked. ‘It’s bad,’ he said when I tried to look.
‘How bad?’
He showed me reluctantly:
How NOT To Be a Slut – A Step by Step Guide for dim bitches like Molly Cooper . . .
Step 1 – Keep your fucking clothes on, you stupid, desperate slag.
Step 2 – Don’t post selfies to random strangers.
Step 3 – Don’t video yourself naked, you retard.
Step 4 – Get some self-respect.
Step 5 – If you can’t manage any of the above, see Step 6 . . .
Step 6 – Kill yourself and do the world a favour, bitch!
My hand shook as I gave Kane his phone back. I wanted to run and hide, to close my eyes until the danger had gone. Only that wasn’t an option. I thought about my mum again, and was tempted to call her. She’d understand, wouldn’t she?
But what about Benedict’s threat? I couldn’t place Mum in danger too – not unless I had no other choice.
‘I wonder if he’s here,’ I said.
Kane looked confused. ‘Huh?’
‘The hacker,’ I explained. ‘What if he’s watching us right now . . .’
Alfie was away on some work thing so Kane made tea as he flicked TV channels. I wasn’t concentrating on anything, not really. It was just something to do. I felt trapped and unsure of where to go, and I really wanted to tell my mum, but the same fears as earlier stopped me. I glanced at Kane, glad he was on my side.
‘What do you think?’ I asked.
‘About?’
‘Telling my mum?’
Kane handed me a mug, and sat down. ‘You’ve got no choice,’ he said. ‘Tell her, face the teachers at school and stand your ground. Like I keep saying – I’m with you.’