Hunted

by Sophie McKenzie

  ‘Mmmn.’ Jack grinned again. ‘I think we’re better off with you unconscious, too, Ed. Come with me.’ He cocked the gun.

  With a final despairing glance at me, Ed followed Jack into the other room. As he disappeared from view, my chest tightened. Now I was truly alone.

  I knew the hotel door was locked, but maybe I could alert reception to the fact that we were here.

  I crept across the room to the phone. Lifted the receiver.

  ‘Put that down,’ Jack barked from the doorway.

  I replaced the handset and turned to him, defiant.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘The code for the Medusa gene that’s inside you, of course.’ Jack crossed the room and picked up a brown canvas bag I hadn’t noticed before.

  ‘How did you find out about that? You didn’t know earlier this year or you’d have looked for it, then.’

  ‘That’s true.’ Jack opened the bag and drew out what looked like a cross between a laptop and a gigantic cell phone.

  ‘What’s that?’ I said.

  ‘It’s how I’m going to find the code,’ he said. ‘It’s state of the art . . . a portable scanner.’

  I stared, open-mouthed, as Jack set up the scanner. Harry reappeared from the bathroom. He stood awkwardly, in the doorway. He was still avoiding my eye.

  ‘Over here, Dylan,’ Jack commanded.

  ‘No.’

  Jack smiled. ‘Then I’ll come to you.’

  He advanced, switching on the scanner as he walked. It made a low humming noise.

  I backed into the corner of the hotel room. Jack, still smiling, came closer.

  I steeled myself, force field fully engaged, ready to bat the scanner away from me. But Jack stopped, about a metre away.

  ‘Listen, Dylan,’ he said. ‘I know you can stop me harming you, but Ed, Ketty and Nico are completely defenceless in the other room. I assume you won’t want me to hurt them.’ He held up his gun. It was fitted with a silencer.

  Damn him. Even if I provoked him into shooting at me, no one outside the suite was going to hear.

  I gritted my teeth.

  ‘It’s your choice,’ Jack said smoothly.

  I stared at him, defeated. There was no way I could protect all the others.

  ‘Raise your arms away from your body.’ Jack brought the scanner closer.

  I released my force field. Slowly and methodically, Jack moved the scanner up my back.

  ‘What are you going to do when you find the microchip?’ I asked.

  ‘It should be just below the skin,’ Jack said. ‘A touch of local anaesthetic and getting it out’ll be no problem.’

  I couldn’t believe it. After all our attempts to keep the Medusa code away from Geri and the officials she reported to . . . and now here we were, captured by a man ten times less scrupulous than she was.

  My head spun.

  ‘So how come it took you so long to capture me?’ I said, trying to sound as scathing as possible. ‘Harry found me two nights ago.’

  ‘Yes, and I was a little cross with him for letting you out of his sight,’ Jack said lightly, passing the scanner over my shoulder. ‘I’d have caught up with you myself sooner, but I was still on my way back to the country. I’d been travelling here since I found out you hacked into the murder database at the records office.’

  ‘How did you know about that?’ My mouth fell open.

  ‘An old contact with a line into the database. He alerted me that someone had done a search on William Fox. I got another contact to check the CCTV in the street outside and there you were. I knew you’d try and find out more, and that you’d think the information on your dad’s murder was stored in the Hub, so I sent Harry to find you there.’

  ‘So you knew my dad was murdered?’

  Jack shrugged. ‘I know his death was classified – not the straightforward accidental death that everyone said. I don’t know exactly what happened to him, though.’

  Was that true? I was way past being able to tell when anyone was lying to me any more.

  ‘Did you send me texts warning me not to look into my dad’s death?’

  ‘Of course not.’ Jack glanced up. ‘Why would I do that?’

  Again, I had no idea if he was lying or not.

  ‘That’s funny,’ I said. ‘Milton and McKenna said they didn’t send me any threatening texts as well. One of you must be lying.’

  Jack shrugged, then moved the scanner along my right arm.

  ‘Are you working with them?’ I said, seized with a sudden idea.

  ‘Those losers?’ Jack made a face. ‘I’m amazed they even managed to track you down.’ He sighed. ‘They hacked my emails to Harry. You see, after I found out you’d been looking into your dad’s death, I went back to some of his old papers and I found this note of his – a note to your mum – saying that there was a copy inside the most precious expression of their love. Milton and McKenna took that literally . . . They thought your dad meant your mum’s wedding ring, which you were wearing in the photo they had of you. I knew all along William meant inside you. He adored you.’ Jack chuckled. ‘I told Harry not to let that cat out of the bag, though. Didn’t want you finding the code before I found you.’

  I glared at Harry. He gazed uneasily back, meeting my eye for the first time since Jack’s arrival.

  ‘Don’t blame Harry,’ Jack said cheerily. ‘He was under instructions from me to do everything he did.’

  ‘You mean, make friends with me so I’d call him if anything happened?’

  ‘Let’s get back to work.’ Jack transferred the scanner to his other hand and moved it slowly along my raised left arm.

  My thoughts went back to my dad’s murder. Was Jack really ignorant about what happened? He was a low life and a conman, quite prepared to sacrifice us to make money – but he wasn’t, himself, capable of murder. At least I didn’t think so.

  ‘But if my dad was murdered, then people at the Hub must have known who did it,’ I insisted. ‘Those government agents own the police. You know that.’

  Jack made a face as he passed the scanner across my stomach. ‘Well, I’m certain Geri didn’t know anything. She was pretty senior. The only person she reported to was Bookman – the main guy at the Hub. I know your dad had a series of meetings with him just before he died, but if Bookman was the one who hushed it up, he did a very thorough job.’

  I thought back to Mom’s diary entries for the week before my dad was killed: W to Hub. Jack wasn’t just confirming what I already knew – that my dad had met the head person at the Hub during his final few days. He was giving me a name too: Bookman.

  My dad must have told Bookman who he suspected wanted to kill him. Which meant Bookman might know who the murderer was.

  My throat tightened. ‘So where’s Bookman now?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Jack said. ‘I don’t even know his real name.’ Jack frowned. ‘Dammit, the scanner’s not picking anything up. Let me try your head.’

  ‘My head?’ I said. ‘My dad wouldn’t have inserted a microchip into my head.’

  ‘I admit it seems unlikely.’ Jack moved the scanner carefully down the back of my head. ‘But maybe the chip travelled. It’s been there a long time.’

  As he spoke, the scanner passed over the right side of the back of my neck. It let out a series of rapid beeps.

  Jack froze. ‘That’s it.’ He grinned. ‘We found it.’

  I reached my hand round to feel the back of my neck. The right side felt exactly the same as the left – muscle and tendons stretched under the skin.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  Jack nodded. ‘Only problem is, it’s going to be tricky to reach. I daren’t take it out by myself.’

  ‘Why?’ I snapped. ‘Scared you’ll damage the microchip?’

  ‘Or you.’ Jack smiled.

  I snorted. Like Jack cared about me.

  He put down the scanner and glanced over at Harry. ‘Keep an eye on Dylan for me,’ he said. ‘I’m going to mak
e a call.’ He disappeared into the room that already contained Ketty, Nico and Ed.

  Harry wandered over to me and sat, self-consciously, on the couch opposite.

  ‘What’s he going to do with us when he gets this chip out?’ I said.

  ‘Leave the four of you in here, unconscious. He’s going to up the drugs, so you’ll be out for almost a day or so. By the time you come round, we’ll be long gone.’ Harry fixed his gaze on the table between us.

  ‘“We”?’ I said as viciously as I could. ‘How nice for you to have such a lovely bonding experience with Daddy.’

  Harry winced. ‘I hadn’t seen Jack in years,’ he protested. ‘Then he rang me and . . .’

  ‘I get it,’ I snapped. ‘He’s teaching you to be a man, like those freakin’ Roman soldiers he was talking about. Way to go, Daddy’s Boy.’

  ‘Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same, if you had a chance to spend time with your dad again.’

  ‘My dad’s dead,’ I hissed. ‘But even if he came back from the grave and offered me a million pounds, I would never sink so low as to lie and—’

  ‘I didn’t lie, not about most of it.’ Harry sat forward on the couch, his bright blue eyes intent on mine. ‘My birthday is in early February, like yours. And our parents were friends. Jack’s your godfather, remember . . . and my mum – who is called Laura – was one of your dad’s research assistants as well as your mum’s best friend. That’s how—’

  ‘I don’t care,’ I snarled. ‘All you thought about was yourself and impressing Daddy. You’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met.’

  There was a short pause.

  ‘Actually, you’re pretty selfish,’ Harry said, clearly stung. ‘I looked through my dad’s notes. All the others have worked at what they can do . . . Their Medusa gift – they’ve developed it. But you, no. You have something that protects you and you don’t care about anything else. You haven’t even tried to extend that force field you create so that it protects other people.’

  I stared at him, remembering what Ketty had said during our resuscitation training. Helping others isn’t exactly Dylan’s strong point.

  ‘At least I haven’t betrayed my friends,’ I said with as much venom as I could muster. ‘At least I’m not a coward.’

  Harry stared at me, like I’d slapped him. ‘I’m not a coward,’ he said. But he sounded uncertain.

  I lowered my voice, suddenly sure I’d got through to him. ‘Help me,’ I whispered. ‘You don’t have to do this. Please, help—’

  ‘Harry!’ Jack’s voice was icy. He stood in the doorway of the next room, his phone in his hand. ‘This is not what I asked you to do.’

  Harry stared at the floor.

  Jack turned to me. ‘The doctor’s on his way.’

  I jumped to my feet. ‘I’m not letting any doctor near me,’ I said.

  ‘May I remind you of our three hostages next door?’ Jack said.

  I clenched my fists. If only I’d thought to work out how to extend my force field around other people. I clutched at the back of the couch beside me, desperate to push the protective energy across the fabric. But nothing happened.

  Harry was right. I had a selfish skill. And I’d only ever used it in a selfish way. Nico had said exactly the same thing, just a few days ago during that training session in the woods. And in the garage last night it hadn’t even occurred to me to try and protect Ketty and Jez and Alex as they crouched, helpless, in the midst of Nico’s telekinetic rage.

  ‘I’m hungry,’ Jack said. ‘I’m going to order room service. Burger, Harry?’

  Harry shook his head. ‘What about Dylan?’ he said.

  ‘Better not risk food in case the doctor decides she needs a general anaesthetic.’ Jack turned to me. ‘Don’t worry, that’s not very likely.’

  ‘Awesome,’ I said.

  Jack picked up the phone on the desk next to the window and ordered a club sandwich and a beer.

  After a moment, Harry walked to the bathroom. He stopped for a second at the door, his fingers resting on the handle. Then he looked over his shoulder at me.

  I’m sorry, he mouthed.

  So what? I mouthed back.

  I was sooo furious at him . . . at Jack . . . at myself . . .

  I turned, angrily, and stared at the blank screen of the hotel TV. A moment later I heard the door shut.

  Jack put the phone down and grinned. ‘Food’s on the way.’

  ‘When will the doctor be here?’ I asked.

  Jack shrugged. ‘Half an hour or so.’

  I sank back into my couch. How could everything have gone so wrong so fast? An hour ago I’d been on the run, with my friends, looking forward to seeing Harry and meeting his dad – the one person I thought believed in my dad – so that I could protect the Medusa gene code from falling into the wrong hands.

  And now I was a prisoner, my friends were unconscious and the Medusa code was about to be taken and sold and used for who knew what terrible purpose.

  Worst of all, Harry had betrayed me. He’d looked into my eyes and lied and, like a total idiot, I’d trusted him. His I’m sorry meant nothing. He didn’t care about me at all.

  I closed my eyes.

  I didn’t feel numb any longer.

  For a moment I didn’t even feel angry.

  I hurt.

  I shook myself. I wasn’t going to let Harry and Jack beat me. Somehow I had to find a way out of here – with the others and the Medusa code.

  15: The microchip

  It was nearly midday before the doctor arrived. He was a slight, elderly man with greying hair and a stoop. His name, or so he said, was Dr Mims. He didn’t look me in the eyes as he passed the scanner back and forth over my neck, then directed Jack, Harry and me into an empty bedroom.

  I lay face down on the bed, fuming. Every cell of my body wanted to resist . . . to protect myself with my force field . . . but Jack’s threat that he would hurt the others if I didn’t co-operate rang in my ears.

  Somehow I had to find a way out of this that didn’t leave Ed and Nico and Ketty at Jack’s mercy.

  Dr Mims applied an anaesthetic cream to the back of my neck.

  ‘That’ll just need a few minutes to take effect,’ he said.

  I looked around. Think, Dylan, think. My heart pounded.

  Jack checked his watch, then pulled a bottle of pills from his pocket. He tipped three into his hand and handed them to Harry.

  ‘Go and top up the others,’ he said. ‘Just one pill under the tongue. I don’t want to take any chances.’

  As Harry left the room, Jack spoke in a low voice to Dr Mims.

  I felt the back of my neck. The patch of skin where Dr Mims had applied the anaesthetic cream was numb. Any minute now the two men were going to come over and Dr Mims would take his scalpel and cut through to the microchip.

  I couldn’t let it happen.

  I looked around the room for a weapon.

  My eyes lit on the glass bottle of mineral water on the table by the bed. I could smash that and use it to keep both men at bay while I escaped from this room. It had its own lock, which meant I’d even be able to keep them contained afterwards.

  That would just leave Harry. Hopefully, I’d be able to deal with him, too. Even if I couldn’t take the others with me, at least I could get down to the hotel lobby and raise the alarm.

  I shuffled towards the bottle of water, but instantly Jack was at my side.

  ‘It’s time,’ he said.

  Dr Mims hovered over me, scalpel poised in his hand.

  Instinctively, I tensed, ready to use my force field. Then I let the energy field dissipate. It was better to let Dr Mims remove the microchip first. Afterwards, he and Jack would be focused on that, not me, which would give me a better chance of taking them by surprise.

  ‘Don’t move,’ Dr Mims warned.

  I lay rigid, feeling the sharp blade tingle against my skin. There was no pain.

  The room fell silent. Then Jack gasped.
>
  ‘There it is.’ Dr Mims’ voice rose in triumph above my head. ‘Perfectly intact.’

  ‘Amazing,’ Jack breathed. ‘Let me see it in the light.’

  Face down on the bed, I couldn’t feel, or see, what they were looking at.

  Dr Mims bent over me again. ‘No need for a stitch,’ he said. ‘The cut was tiny. There’s hardly any blood.’

  I heard the ripping sound of a plaster being torn away from its backing, then felt the doctor’s fingers pressing on my neck.

  As he turned away from me, I rolled off the bed and grabbed the water bottle.

  Wham. I smashed it against the bedside table. Water splashed out, over the floor, down my leg. Dr Mims jumped back.

  I glared at Jack. He was across the room, by the window. His eyes widened in horror as I brandished the bottle.

  I rushed towards him. He drew his gun, silencer attached. Dr Mims shrank back against the wall.

  Jack pointed his gun at me. The tiny microchip lay on the window sill at his side, a black dot on a piece of white card.

  ‘No.’ Jack’s voice was resolute. He pointed the gun at me.

  I braced myself. My force field should hold against a single bullet.

  I reached for the microchip. Jack pointed the gun at my head. His hands were shaking.

  ‘Stop, Dylan.’

  Keeping my eyes on him, I fumbled for the microchip. There. I snatched it up.

  ‘No.’ Jack frowned, like he was trying to force himself to pull the trigger.

  ‘Harry!’ he yelled.

  He lowered the gun so it was aiming at my knee. I suddenly knew he wouldn’t shoot to kill.

  My instincts had been right. Jack, for all his many faults, was incapable of cold-blooded murder.

  Microchip clutched in my hand, I backed towards the door. Dr Mims was now cowering against the wall on the other side of the room.

  ‘Stop or I’ll shoot,’ Jack said.

  ‘Go right ahead.’ I steeled myself, force field still fully primed.

  Jack pulled the trigger. The bullet exploded out of the gun. I held my breath, feeling it tap lightly against my shin, then fall to the ground.

  Triumphant, I hurled the broken bottle at Jack.