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by Chris Morphew


  ‘Hang on, we don’t want to scare him off,’ said Jordan. ‘Let’s go in and get food first.’

  ‘But what if he leaves?’ said Luke.

  ‘Tell you what,’ I said, ‘why don’t you keep an eye on Reeve while we go in and get the food?’

  Luke shot me one of his disdainful glances, but didn’t argue.

  In a few minutes, we were back outside with a big pile of chips and some drinks. Reeve and his kid hadn’t gone anywhere, and the table next to him – the same one we’d been sitting at yesterday – was free.

  Jordan led the way to the empty table. Reeve saw us coming. His hand froze halfway to his mouth.

  ‘Relax,’ said Jordan, sitting with her back to him, ‘we’re just getting something to eat.’

  Luke and I sat down, and Jordan motioned at us to start eating.

  ‘While we’re here, though,’ she went on in an undertone, still not looking at Reeve, ‘I’ve got a couple of quick questions for you.’

  Reeve’s son rolled his toy car around the table, completely oblivious.

  ‘We were wondering about those metal security doors,’ said Jordan, when Reeve didn’t answer. ‘You know, the ones with no handles that you need a key card to –’

  ‘Look guys,’ said Reeve, twisting around, ‘I’m just trying to spend some time with my son on my afternoon off, all right? I don’t want any trouble.’

  ‘And we don’t want to give you any,’ said Jordan calmly, still not looking at him. ‘But this is important. Now turn around and stop acting so suspicious.’

  I shovelled chips into my mouth to hide a smirk.

  Reeve looked out across the street, probably making sure we were clear of any other security.

  ‘I don’t know what those doors are for,’ he said. ‘That’s all top-level stuff.’

  ‘Could you find out for us?’ asked Luke. ‘That information has to be somewhere, right?’

  ‘I already told you kids, I can’t get involved. I’ve got my family to think about. And you guys shouldn’t get caught up in all this either.’

  ‘You really think it’s that simple?’ I said. ‘We’re all caught up in it, whether we like it or not. If you knew what was really going on in this place –’

  ‘I know enough to know it’s way over my head,’ said Reeve. ‘And even if I wanted to help you, there’s no way I could get my hands on that kind of info. That stuff’s stored in Aaron Ketterley’s office.’

  ‘Where’s that?’ said Jordan.

  ‘In his house,’ said Reeve, ‘behind one of those metal doors.’

  ‘Let’s say the door wasn’t a problem,’ said Jordan. ‘I mean, theoretically. Then what?’

  ‘You’d have the security on the house to deal with, and Ketterley himself, and even if you did get in –’ He stopped short, shaking his head again. ‘Listen, I can’t do this. I’m sorry. Just let it go, all right?’

  ‘Officer Reeve, please,’ said Jordan, ‘there must be something you can tell us.’

  Reeve ignored her and stood up to leave. ‘Come on, mate,’ he said, bending down and letting his son climb up onto his back, ‘let’s go to the park.’

  ‘You think you’re the only one with a family to think about?’ Luke called after him.

  But Reeve didn’t want to hear it. He emptied his tray into the bin and walked away without looking back.

  Chapter 17

  FRIDAY, MAY 29

  76 DAYS

  ‘Bloody Ranga,’ I muttered under my breath.

  ‘What was that, Peter?’ snapped Mr Hanger, peering down from his desk.

  ‘Nothing, sir.’

  I was stooped over an upturned desk, scraping at the wads of chewed-up gum with a completely useless metal spatula thing. He’d finally got me into detention after cornering me at the lockers at lunch.

  I heard running footsteps in the hallway, and looked up to see Tank come bursting into the room. He’d got a detention this morning for running in the playground. There wasn’t actually a rule against running in the playground, but Ranga wasn’t about to let that stop him.

  ‘You’re late,’ he snarled.

  ‘Sorry, sir!’ Tank panted. ‘I was … doing something.’

  Tank is a master of deception.

  ‘Get to work,’ said Ranga, handing him a butter knife.

  Tank flipped over the table next to mine and sat down.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I whispered.

  He dug his knife into a blob of gum. ‘What does it look like?’

  ‘No, I mean since when do you show up to detention?’ I said.

  ‘Mike made me come,’ said Tank, not looking happy about it.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Didn’t want Ranga to catch me and make me stay back after school,’ said Tank. He pulled the knife back up, dragging a long stretch of gum out with it. ‘We’ve got somewhere to be.’

  ‘Course you do,’ I said.

  But then it occurred to me that I’d never straight-out asked Tank where he and the others kept disappearing to. Not without Cat or Mike around, and those two were the brains of the operation. They were both smart enough to know when to keep their mouths shut.

  Tank, on the other hand …

  ‘Where are you going, anyway?’ I asked, pretending to focus on gum-scraping as Ranga looked down from his desk again.

  ‘Can’t tell you,’ said Tank, scratching his arm through the sleeve of his shirt.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because they told us not to.’

  ‘Who?’ I asked. ‘Mike and Cat?’

  ‘No-one,’ said Tank. ‘Just shut up about it.’

  ‘Come on, mate, I won’t tell anyone you –’

  ‘I said shut up, all right?’ Tank said, not bothering to keep his voice down. ‘Just leave it. It’s not my fault you didn’t get chosen.’

  ‘You will both get chosen to go and explain yourselves to Mrs Stapleton if those tables aren’t spotless by the end of lunch,’ snapped Mr Ranga, standing up to glare at us.

  ‘Sorry, sir,’ said Tank.

  Chosen …

  What was that supposed to mean?

  Who in their right mind would choose Tank for anything?

  I jammed the spatula down into another wad of gum, trying to lever it off the desk, but all I did was smear it out some more.

  ‘Like you care anyway,’ Tank whispered after a few minutes. ‘You’re just cut because Cat doesn’t want you anymore.’

  I didn’t answer. Crap like that wasn’t even worth responding to.

  Unfortunately, Tank seemed to take that as a sign he was right. He grinned to himself and went back to stabbing gum.

  ‘And anyway,’ he grunted after another silence. ‘It’s not like you don’t have secrets.’

  ‘Whatever,’ I said.

  ‘You think I’m stupid?’ said Tank. ‘You think we don’t know about all the crap you guys are getting into? Hunter gets here and all of a sudden you guys are security risks? What’s that about?’

  ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, mate.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ said Tank. ‘Then why is there a security officer down there checking out your bike?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Tank smiled at the surprise on my face, ‘the broken-arm guy. Saw him on the way here. Probably confiscating it or something. Sucks to be you, mate.’

  I didn’t hear a word he said after that.

  As soon as the bell rang, I got up, chucked my spatula at Mr Ranga, and ran out of the room. I pushed downstairs, fighting against the tide of kids coming up to their classes.

  I ran into Jordan and Luke halfway down.

  ‘Hey, where are you –?’

  I raced past without answering. They doubled back and followed me out into the playground, down to the rack where I’d left my bike this morning.

  The bike was still there, and it didn’t look like Reeve had done anything to it.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Jordan.

  ‘Not
sure,’ I said, bending down to check the tyres.

  Nothing. Maybe Tank was just messing with me. Why would Reeve be stuffing around with my bike, anyway?

  ‘Peter,’ said Luke, glancing back at the almost-empty playground, ‘if Pryor sees us out here …’

  ‘Go to class, then,’ I said. ‘No-one told you to –’

  But then I found it.

  A scrap of paper, wedged up under the seat. I stood back up, flattened the page out and read it.

  KETTERLEY @ S. BUILDING 4.30 P.M. SAT.

  SECURITY UPGRADES BEING PUT ON HIS HOUSE.

  SURVEILLANCE DOWN FOR 20 MINS.

  GOOD LUCK.

  Chapter 18

  SATURDAY, MAY 30

  75 DAYS

  Ketterley’s place was on the edge of town, in the block behind the Shackleton Building. I’d been over there for dinner a couple of times, back in the early days, but I couldn’t remember ever seeing a giant metal door.

  Ketterley lived a few blocks down from Jordan, and his house pushed up against the bushland like hers did. We planned to use that bushland to our advantage: meet at 4.15 p.m. and hide out in bushes until the tech people arrived to upgrade the security on Ketterley’s house. Then we’d figure out our odds on actually getting inside.

  I decided to show up at 4 p.m.

  I’d be the first one there – and maybe Jordan would be the second.

  I had news for her. It took an almost sleepless night (which probably would’ve been almost sleepless anyway, given the latest round of suicidal madness we had planned for today), but I’d finally removed the call restrictions on Pryor’s phone. Now we could call anyone we wanted.

  If we had reception. Which we didn’t.

  Progress, though, I told myself as I clambered through the bush, moving parallel to Ketterley’s street. She’ ll be happy with progress.

  But when I came up on the place where we’d agreed to meet, I saw Jordan and Luke both already there waiting.

  And they looked pretty bloody settled too.

  They were sitting side by side on a fallen tree, chatting away. Luke was gesturing with his hands like a freaking caveman.

  I crept closer, trying to hear what he was saying to her, but then he heard me coming and looked up. I glared at him, and he twisted his face into what he clearly thought was an innocent expression.

  ‘Oh, hey,’ said Jordan, looking up too. Her eyes were red, face streaked with tears.

  I felt fingernails digging into my palms and realised I was clenching my fists. I took a step towards Luke, more than ready to streak his face with tears, then caught myself.

  Not now. Look after Jordan first.

  ‘Hey,’ I said. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Jordan. She rubbed her eyes and stood up. ‘All good.’

  ‘What happened?’ I asked.

  ‘Nothing.’ Jordan peered out at Ketterley’s house. ‘Don’t worry. I don’t want to talk about it.’

  You seemed happy enough to talk to him about it. What was he going to do? He didn’t even know her.

  I didn’t say any of this out loud, though. I didn’t say anything.

  I just went over and stood next to Jordan, close enough that my arm brushed up against hers. She stepped away, pushing a couple of branches aside for a better look at the house.

  Bloody Luke. He was probably the one who’d convinced her not to talk to me. Trying to squeeze me out. Push her away from me.

  And now here we all were, stupidly early, with nothing to do until the tech guys showed up.

  I leant back against a tree and settled in for an action-packed half-hour of house-watching. Highlights included a bike going past and Ketterley’s next-door neighbour coming out to put something in his rubbish bin.

  It felt so ridiculous to be hiding in the bushes, afraid of being spotted. But these were our lives now. It wasn’t just security on our backs anymore. It was the whole town. If any one of them spotted us doing something even vaguely suspicious, Calvin would be on us in a shot.

  Finally, two guys in light-blue tech uniforms appeared from around the corner. One of them was Malcolm, Tank’s dad, every bit as big and sweaty and hairy as his son. He was lugging along a trolley thing filled with equipment. The other one – a new guy I didn’t recognise – was struggling along with a massive ladder.

  The new guy propped his ladder up against the side of Ketterley’s house and came back to help Mal get the trolley in through the front gate. Then he went up to the front door and let himself inside. Mal grabbed a toolbox and a big reel of electrical cable from the trolley. He stood at the foot of the ladder and waited.

  ‘Why’s he just standing there?’ asked Luke.

  ‘Probably has to wait for the other guy to turn off the old security before they can start putting the new stuff in,’ said Jordan.

  She was right. A minute later, the new guy came back outside and gave a thumbs-up to Mal, who hoisted the reel of cable over his shoulder and started climbing up onto the roof. New Guy grabbed some stuff from the trolley and headed back inside.

  I saw Jordan following Mal with her eyes, tongue poking at the corner of her lip like it always does when she’s concentrating. Mal opened his toolbox, squatted down on the roof, showing just a little bit more of himself than we all needed to see, and got to work.

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Jordan, stepping away from her tree.

  ‘Wait,’ I said, ‘what about the guy inside?’

  ‘Just don’t let him see you,’ said Jordan.

  ‘Oh, right,’ I said, following her out onto the street, ‘hang on a sec while I switch on my invisibility.’

  We crossed the bike track and bolted up Ketterley’s front path.

  Mal on the roof. This was not a good thing.

  Not that he was dangerous. He just hated me. He and I had kind of gotten off on the wrong foot after I accidentally rode his bike into the fountain the week after we all got here. I knew he’d love an excuse to report me to security and this would be the perfect –

  A shout from above us.

  My eyes shot to the roof, expecting to see Mal staring back down at me. But he must’ve just smashed his thumb with a hammer or something, because he was still facing the other way, grumbling to himself.

  I breathed.

  Graceful as a cat, Jordan leapt silently onto the veranda and paused at the front door.

  Luke was like a cat too. Like a blind cat with one leg. He thumped up the steps behind me, almost tripping. Jordan whipped around and shushed us both.

  Inside, the house was just like mine. Just like every other house in Phoenix. I was pretty much used to all the houses being identical but for some reason it felt creepy and weird all over again.

  We crept up the hallway, keeping an ear out for the other techie.

  Jordan froze just short of the lounge room doorway. She peered into the room, then jerked her head straight back out again.

  In there? I mouthed, pointing through the door.

  Jordan nodded. She bolted across the doorway and kept going down the hall.

  I followed behind her, catching a fleeting glimpse of the techie screwing something into the ceiling as I flew past.

  Jordan stopped again. She was staring at the door that would’ve led to a bedroom in her house, or to the spare room in mine.

  But in Ketterley’s house, the door was cold, gleaming steel.

  I heard a creaking sound behind me and jerked my head to look down the hallway. Through the open front door, I could see Mal’s ladder leaning against the front of the house.

  The ladder was moving. A giant work boot dropped onto the top rung. Mal was coming back down.

  Jordan saw it too. Her hand shot down to grab the doc’s key card from her pocket.

  More creaks. The other foot came down. Any second now, he’d be low enough to see us.

  Jordan pulled out the doc’s key card, and it dawned on me that we didn’t actually know if this would work. After seeing More let himself into Pryor’s of
fice, we’d just assumed that all the key cards worked in all the doors.

  Now wasn’t a good time to be proved wrong.

  ‘Oi, Lucas!’ Mal yelled, still coming down. ‘C’mere a sec!’

  ‘Yeah, coming,’ the other techie yelled back.

  Jordan waved the card in front of the sensor on the doorframe. Nothing.

  ‘Do it again!’ Luke hissed.

  Mal was two rungs away from us. One rung.

  I could hear the other guy striding towards the hall.

  Jordan tried again.

  With a familiar clunk, the door swung open.

  We ran inside. Luke heaved the door closed behind us, with a crash of metal that I seriously hoped sounded quieter from the outside than it did on the inside. He put his ear up against the door.

  ‘I think we’re okay,’ he whispered after a minute.

  I scanned the rest of the room. There was an L-shaped leather lounge at one end, and a giant pile of paperwork at the other that probably had Ketterley’s desk buried somewhere underneath it. Between them was a huge empty space, like Ketterley was making room to bring in a pool table or something.

  All along the back wall, where the windows would be in a normal Phoenix house, there were bookcases stacked with ring binders and document boxes.

  ‘This floor is the same as in the room in the medical centre,’ said Jordan.

  I looked down at the rough grey tiles.

  ‘Same as Pryor’s office too,’ I said.

  ‘What?’ said Jordan. ‘No it isn’t.’

  ‘Yeah, it is,’ I said. ‘You probably didn’t notice them because of that massive rug.’

  ‘Should we maybe stop arguing about floor coverings and get on with this?’ asked Luke, who was already searching the bookcases.

  ‘Right, sorry,’ said Jordan. She went to help him, while I crossed to Ketterley’s desk to try and dig up his laptop.

  I found it sitting under a pile of maintenance papers. Password-protected. But I was ready for that.

  At least, I hoped I was.

  I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a shiny silver memory stick with J.B. scratched into the side. I’d loaded it up this morning with a couple of not-strictly-legal programs I built to help me get around the security on Ketterley’s computer.

 

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