Hunted

  3: The revelation

  It took the three of them most of the next two days to do it, but Nico, Ketty and Ed finally persuaded Geri we should go on this mission Ed had found.

  In the end I think she realised that, if she didn’t agree, the others would do it anyway. And, if Geri was involved, she could at least provide advice and back-up.

  I only knew they’d all been talking because Geri sought me out immediately after the decision was made.

  Geri had always confided in me more than in the others. She knew my dad quite well and, though I’d never admit it, I liked it when she told me about their meetings all those years ago.

  She found me in the backyard of the stone cottage we were staying in, staring out at the woodland beyond. We were somewhere in the North of England. Coming from America, I’m a bit vague on all the geography, but I think we might have been near a place called the Lake District. Not that I’d seen any lakes.

  The cottage was quite cute in an olde English sort of way with draughty windows, flowery furnishings and cold stone floors everywhere.

  I went out into the yard most evenings after dinner. It was easier than being in the living room with Nico, Ed and Ketty playing stupid computer games or listening to that dumb indie music they’re all into.

  It was a chilly night, but I was sitting on the swing seat in my retro pea coat and vintage Gucci gloves, enjoying the fresh, earthy night air and thinking about a pair of slingbacks I had my eye on.

  In case you’re wondering, I get a big allowance from my aunt and uncle in America. It doesn’t make up for the way they’ve treated me but, hey, a lot of money’s better than none, right?

  ‘So what’s this mission about?’ I said, after Geri had made a few barbed comments about the others’ pig-headedness.

  Geri gave me that birdlike stare of hers. ‘They still haven’t said anything to you?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Ed wants to investigate the death of a boy in a children’s care home.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The death is logged as “accidental”, but Ed’s got it into his head that it was murder.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘The official police report says a boy died after “an accident with a knife”. Ed’s got some hunch that the boy was killed deliberately and that someone’s covering up . . .’ Geri paused. ‘I think after that girl he met in Spain, Ed has a special interest in children in care.’

  I nodded. Luz, the girl Geri was referring to, had been in care. She’d been kidnapped by the people running the camp we’d been sent to in Spain. Ed had really liked her . . . had helped her escape, only to have to watch her die later.

  I’d been there when it had happened. It wasn’t something I wanted to think about if I could possibly help it.

  ‘So Ed’s on a moral mission to save kids in care, is he?’ I said.

  ‘Mmm . . .’ Geri sighed. ‘Well, I won’t pre-empt the situation any further, dear. There’ll be a proper briefing tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Fine.’ I shrugged.

  ‘You remind me more and more of your father, Dylan,’ Geri said in that clipped accent of hers. ‘He’d get that closed-off look in his eye, too. A man of few words and very untrusting but, my goodness, when it came to his principles, he stood up for what he believed in.’ She paused. ‘He didn’t have many friends . . . I mean there were a few scientists he worked closely with, and Jack Linden, of course . . .’ She paused.

  Jack Linden was my godfather. I’d liked him, but he’d ended up betraying us all earlier in the year. I reckoned Dad was right to be untrusting. Jack Linden had been his best friend, but he’d still risked our lives to sell the formula for the Medusa gene my dad had developed.

  ‘Of course,’ Geri went on, ‘your dad only really had himself to blame about the lack of friends . . . He wasn’t an easy man.’

  ‘He had my mom, too.’ I turned to her, irritated. What was she saying? Some clumsy hint about how I should try to get on better with the others?

  ‘Of course.’ Geri shivered.

  A minute later she made some excuse and went back inside.

  I stayed out for ages thinking about my dad. After he’d realised the Medusa gene was going to kill the mothers of the babies he’d injected – including my mom, his wife – he kind of withdrew from the world. I guess he must have felt real guilty. I often wondered about the traffic accident he died in . . . Was he just careless crossing the road that night . . . or so preoccupied with his work that he didn’t notice the car until it was too late? He was basically a genius and everyone says people like that often find real life harder than ordinary people.

  And what about my mom? Was she cool with his being obsessed with his work? I’d never really talked about her to anyone. My stupid aunt and uncle only ever sneered about her. The most they’d said was that I looked like her . . . except for my hair and my colouring, of course. I have my dad’s pale skin and wild red hair. Well, it would be wild if I didn’t straighten it.

  Eventually, the light went off downstairs and Jez appeared at the back door.

  ‘Everyone’s going to bed, Dylan,’ he called out. ‘You need to come inside so I can lock up.’

  Reluctantly, I left the swing seat, went indoors and followed Jez upstairs. There were four bedrooms in our stone cottage. One for Jez and his girlfriend, Alex, who was our other trainer; one for Geri; one for the boys; and one for me and Ketty.

  Ketty was already in bed when I reached our room, her back turned to the door. I was suddenly reminded of our argument in the woods earlier today.

  Well, I wasn’t going to be the first one to say something.

  It was a while before I fell asleep, though it felt like I woke just seconds later – when the door slammed as Ketty left the next morning.

  I dressed – in my ancient Juicy sweats and a totally gorgeous green jumper I got at Camden Market a few months ago. I already had on my mom’s white-gold wedding ring – I never took that off. Next I put on my silver bangles. I usually wear them, too, though not if we’re on a mission and I have to keep the noise levels down. Like the ring, the bangles were my mom’s . . . very simple, very elegant, very beautiful. After I’d got the bangles on I messed around trying on a few different pairs of earrings. Eventually, I made my way downstairs.

  The others were in the kitchen. Our two couples – Nico and Ketty and Jez and Alex – were sitting opposite each other at the table, like an episode of Wife Swap, while Ed and Geri were talking in low, intent voices by the sink.

  They all looked up as I walked in.

  I raised my eyebrows. ‘What?’

  ‘Ah, you’re here, dear,’ Geri said. ‘We were waiting for you.’

  Ed explained the mission – and my role in it.

  I stared at him. ‘It’s just like the missions we’ve done in the past.’

  ‘So?’ Nico stood up. ‘What did you think, that we were going on an expedition into outer space?’

  ‘No,’ I said, trying to sound as withering as possible. ‘I just don’t get why you all think this is such a valuable use of our time.’

  ‘Of course you don’t.’ Ketty said.

  Jeez, talk about prickly.

  We set off after lunch. It was a long drive to the town on the English-Scottish border where the mission was to start. The first stage of Ed’s plan was simple. Nico and I were to get us into the public records office just before the end of the day. After we’d broken in, Ed was to mind-read the person on duty to get that day’s password. Once we had the password, we’d be able to get into the database of records and check out the report on the so-called ‘accidental death’ at the children’s care home to see if there was anything suspicious about it. While we did that, Ketty was going to try and focus on predicting the next ten minutes for us, making sure the coast would stay clear.

  Kind of a rerun of the training disaster in the woods, but with one significant difference.

  ‘How are you going to cover our tracks?’ I asked
Ed. ‘I mean, if you have to mind-read someone for a password, they’re sooo going to know about it.’

  Ed blushed. ‘I’m using a new technique,’ he said quietly. ‘Kind of like a hypnosis thing that Alex helped me with. Stops people remembering they saw me, er, us . . .’

  ‘So you’ve been developing your telepathy?’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘Way to go, Hypno Boy.’

  I glanced at Nico. There was a time he’d have laughed at that. We used to be friends, but the more time we spent around each other, the less he seemed to like me.

  Whatever.

  ‘I still don’t see why someone can’t hack into the database remotely,’ I said.

  ‘Ed told you already,’ Nico said irritably. ‘They might be able to trace a hacker.’

  ‘And they change the password every day,’ Ketty added.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ I said.

  At last we arrived at the records office. Jez and Alex were with us, giving tactical advice on how to behave once we were inside.

  ‘If you get apprehended, say nothing, but let Nico disarm them, then put Ed in front of them straight away to block any memory they might have had of the incident. It’s vital that you lay a false trail to cover your tracks,’ Jez said, his face very serious.

  ‘And don’t forget your ABC,’ Alex added. ‘Attentiveness. Back-up. Caution. Keep your eyes peeled at all times. Remember to switch off your phones and . . .’

  ‘. . . And never take unnecessary risks . . .’ Ketty and Ed chorused.

  ‘You remember how to get out of an armlock, don’t you?’ Jez added anxiously.

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ Nico said impatiently.

  ‘Yeah, enough babysitting,’ I said. ‘Let’s go.’

  The public records office was a large, square, red-brick building. Jez and Alex dropped us at the fire door round the back and we waited while Ketty tried to see into the next few minutes to find out if we would be safe going inside.

  She stood there, her eyes all glassy, staring into mid-air. I waited impatiently.

  After a few seconds, she stopped. ‘I’m not seeing any problems,’ she said. ‘Looks like we’re going to get in and out in about twenty minutes. The guy you’re going to mind-read, Ed, is on the second floor.’

  ‘Awesome,’ I drawled. ‘I feel sooo reassured.’

  Nico shot an angry look at me. ‘Dylan, there’s—’

  ‘Leave it,’ Ketty said. ‘She’s not worth it.’

  Charming.

  Nico squared up to the fire door. With a swift flick of his hand, the thick metal bar lifted and the door opened.

  I glanced around. Nobody was passing, or looking at us from any of the nearby windows.

  I took a deep breath. I knew I had to move fast once we were inside.

  I slipped through the doorway and looked around for the laser ray that Ed’s research had suggested would be here. There it was, just one step ahead of where I was standing, its broad red ray monitoring the corridor.

  I took a second to focus, making sure my whole body was shielded with my force field. Fully protected, I stepped into the laser’s path, stopping it from reaching my body and picking up my presence. The others crept past, behind me.

  Once I was sure they were safely through, I stepped out of the laser’s path myself. We were in a dark, concrete corridor at the back of the records office. Voices sounded a short way ahead of us – the bored chatter of people leaving work for the day.

  Ed pointed to a set of concrete stairs. They looked deserted.

  ‘Two flights up,’ he whispered.

  We set off.

  ‘No need to say thank you,’ I muttered.

  Ketty stopped us as we reached the first-floor landing, hissing a warning that she’d just had a vision of someone heading towards us from the third floor. We froze, but no one came.

  I turned to Ketty, irritated. ‘Are you trying to be annoying on purpose?’

  ‘Shut up, Dylan,’ she snapped. ‘It’s not that easy. I might be out by just a few minutes . . . It’s impossible to know for sure.’

  Rolling my eyes, I set off up the stairs again. A moment later I found Ed beside me.

  ‘Maybe it would help if you thought of your’s and Nico’s abilities as like doing maths or chemistry and our gifts – mine and Ketty’s – as more like English or history. What we do isn’t scientific or always precise. Just like in English there sometimes aren’t right or wrong answers. D’you see?’

  What a geek.

  ‘Gee, thanks, Professor,’ I said.

  Ed shook his head and walked on ahead. He caught up with Ketty on the second-floor landing. They stood, discussing something for a second. Then Ketty beckoned me over.

  ‘The guy Ed needs to mind-read is through there.’ She pointed to a door marked Level A Staff Only. ‘I saw him – he’s working in a small office. Glasses. Dark hair.’

  ‘Will I need to help out with my gift again?’ I said, letting a seam of sarcasm run through my voice.

  ‘No,’ Ketty snapped. ‘You’re no use to us now until we leave.’

  And again with the charm.

  Nico beckoned us over to the Level A Staff door. He held up his hand, gesturing us to wait a second, then pushed the door open. Another corridor. Carpeted this time. We scurried past a closed door then, a few seconds later, burst into the office Ketty had seen in her vision.

  It was tiny – furnished only with a desk and two chairs. The dark-haired, bespectacled man at the desk jumped up as we swept inside but before he could speak Ed made eye contact.

  As Ed started to mind read the man, Nico turned to Ketty. ‘Okay babe? Just keep your mind focused on near-future visions; I’ll keep watch.’

  Ed was frowning as he stared into the office worker’s eyes.

  ‘Something wrong, Ed?’ I said drily.

  ‘Yeah.’ Ed sounded worried. ‘I’ve got the password, but hypnotising this guy so he’ll forget we’ve been here isn’t as easy as I thought it would be.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘What’s the password?’ I asked, scooting around to the computer. ‘I’ll log onto the database that we need to look at.’

  ‘Okay. The password’s monitor636.’ Ed hesitated a second, gathering more information, then directed me onto the site we needed. I found the report on the ‘accidental’ death at the care home quickly. I only gave it a quick skim through, but it seemed obvious that Ed had been right and certain suspicious factors about the boy’s death had been hushed up. I emailed the report to one of the coded Medusa email accounts, then deleted all evidence that I’d been on the computer. Of course anyone taking the trouble to search the hard drive might have seen that the file had been uploaded as an attachment, but if no one knew we’d been here, who would think to examine the hard drive?

  I glanced over at Ed. He was still frowning. The guy he was trying to hypnotise had sagged slightly in his chair, but his eyes, though glazed over, still looked alert.

  ‘Are we done?’ Nico asked from the door.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘Not quite.’ Ed sounded anxious. ‘I’m still having trouble hypnotising this guy. I have to make sure he won’t know we were here.’

  ‘Well, that’s awesome, Hypno Boy,’ I drawled.

  ‘Give him a break,’ Nico snapped.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Ketty turned to Ed. ‘No one’s coming. Take your time.’

  I glanced back at the computer. Ed had directed me to a national database of reports on UK deaths going back twenty years, since electronically stored records began. There were three sections to the database – one for murder, one for death by natural causes and the section I was looking at, for accidental deaths.

  I’d closed down the search into the victim at the care home, but the national database was still live.

  I twisted my mom’s ring round my finger as my thoughts drifted to my dad. With a jolt, it struck me . . . my dad died fifteen years ago, within the time frame of the database, which meant that his accidental death should be on here, too.
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  My mind went back to what I’d been told . . . a traffic accident at nightfall . . . my dad stepping out in front of a car . . .

  I looked at the others. Nico was still busy keeping watch, Ketty was still doing her freaky visions thing and Ed was still, clearly, trying to hypnotise the guy at the other end of the desk.

  No one was looking at me. Even if they glanced over, they wouldn’t be able to see what I was doing on the computer.

  I pulled up a new search into the accidental deaths database and added my dad’s full name: William Hamish Fox.

  Two seconds later the response appeared: Your search – William Hamish Fox – did not match any documents.

  I stared at the screen. That had to be a mistake. I typed the name again, this time double-checking the spelling.

  Nothing.

  Why didn’t his name show up? I could only think of two reasons: either there was something wrong with the search function – which seemed unlikely as it had worked perfectly when I did the search on the care-home victim – or my dad’s accidental death file had been logged in the wrong place.

  My fingers were sweat-sticky against the keyboard as I moved the cursor to the next database: Natural Causes.

  Nothing.

  ‘How’re you doing, Ed?’ Nico asked.

  He didn’t speak loudly, but I was so absorbed in what I was doing I jumped.

  ‘Nearly there,’ Ed said. ‘Just a couple more minutes.’

  There was only one place left to look.

  I turned to the murder database and entered my dad’s name into the search box. A report flashed up immediately.

  My heart lurched into my throat. What was my dad’s death file doing here?

  I opened the report, my hands shaking, and scanned it fast. I didn’t . . . couldn’t take in the detail of what I was reading . . . I just latched onto the bits that jumped out: my dad’s name . . . his date of birth . . . the date he died, just a few months after I was born.

  My eyes lit on a summary at the bottom of the page.

  Victim: William Hamish Fox

  Cause of death: murder CLASSIFIED

  Assailant: CLASSIFIED