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Fire Games

Page 24

by Mark Stewart


  THE DARKENING lane started to bulge at the seams as more street kids joined the party. Each one stared down at the new arrival sitting on the dirty blue cobblestones.

  Tegan pushed her shoulders hard against the wall, studying the hostile faces looking at her. She looked ready to scream.

  “Shhh,” insisted a girl, placing her finger against Tegan’s lips. “You’ll bring the cops.”

  “Exactly,” Tegan replied.

  “We’re your friends,” the girl advised.

  “You won’t hurt me?”

  “No never. We look after each other.” The girl extended her hand. Her long hair hung heavy. “I’m Sam.”

  “I’m Tegan.” She took hold of the girl’s hand and stood.

  Sam eyed the visitor up and down, displaying a doubtful look at her ripped and dirty pajamas. “My guess is that your name is Kendal.”

  “That was a lucky guess.”

  “Not really. Your father and I met recently. He wanted me to talk about a character named Patrick. When I refused, he pushed me into a pool.”

  Tegan’s eyes widened, looking around the lane. “I need a phone. It’s vital I talk to my dad.”

  Sam vigorously shook her head.

  “Is there a phone close to this lane?” Tegan asked for a second time.

  “The rules on the street are simple to follow. No talking on a phone when you’re close to this lane. Looking like you do, the local shopkeepers won’t let you use theirs. They’ll think you’re another stupid street kid. Come on, if you’re quick, you’ll get a warm shower. I stole some clothes from an Opp. Shop yesterday. They might fit.”

  Sam escorted Tegan to an outside laundry. The narrow old brick building consisted of a toilet and a shower.

  “Word of warning, don’t let Mr. Foo catch you using his shower. He’ll expect you to pay for the privilege, and I don’t mean he wants money. If you refuse, he pulls out his meat cleaver. To escape his clutches, you have to run like the clappers.”

  Sam stood guard while Tegan enjoyed a fast-warm shower. An even quicker change of clothing followed.

  “Are you hungry?” asked Sam.

  “I’m starving,” replied Tegan.

  “The Night Creepers should have food ready by now.”

  “Who are the Night Creepers?”

  “The gang, the street kids you met in the lane.”

  “Weird name,” snarled Tegan.

  Sam yanked on Tegan’s shoulder, turning her around. Stepping closer, Sam stared shark eyes at her face.

  “We’re not weird. We’re survivors. You and me, we’re different. Opposite sides of the coin, understand? You’ve got a good life, the education, the unbroken family. The Night Creepers and I are the same. Some of us come from homes where parents don’t want them around. Some of us were abused, some just want to belong. Let me tell you something, Tegan Kendal. I was given a thousand bucks to burn a house to the ground.”

  “Did you do it?”

  “Bloody oath I did, and it felt bloody good. Then your father caught me.”

  “One to pops,” muttered Tegan.

  “Stuff you. A grand would’ve set the gang up for months.”

  “Why don’t you go back home?” asked Tegan. “It has to be better than living on the streets.”

  Sam spat on the ground. “Never, I’m on the streets to get away from my abusive drunken piss head father.”

  “Tell me something, who gave you a thousand dollars to burn a house down?”

  “Patrick.”

  “I was held prisoner by him.”

  “I’d like to see the face behind that balaclava. The info might get me some big bucks, seeing how your father kept my money.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you. I’ve seen the face behind the mask.”

  “You have elevated yourself to be a prime target. You have to get to the nearest cop station before Patrick finds you. I can’t take you; the Night Creepers have rules I’m not allowed to break.” Sam nodded at a park. “The cop shop is on the other side. Allow me to give you a word of warning. Be careful. Be very careful.”

  Tegan waved goodbye and headed for the park.

  “Tell me. What you, gonna do when you leave school?” called Sam.

  Tegan yelled back through cupped hands. “I’m going to be a detective.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

 

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