Shit. She must be looking for her phone.
Hands sweating, I slid it back onto the hall table before she reached the bottom step. To my relief, neither she nor Jack noticed what I was doing.
‘Come on,’ Jack said.
I let him lock me into the utility room again and sat, waiting.
Night fell and the house grew quiet. I slipped into a broken sleep, where I woke every few minutes, cramped and aching and cold.
And then a shout woke me. My head jerked up. Another shout. ‘Oy.’ Deep and male. Jack. I twisted round to look out the window. It was dark night outside. I had no idea what time it was . . . my heart thumped.
A light went on outside. More shouts. Seconds later I heard the kitchen door outside flung open. I pressed my eye to the gap between my utility room door and its frame, trying to make out who was stampeding into the kitchen beyond. Then someone slammed on the light switch and the shadows became real people. Jack stood by the kitchen door, his face twisted with fury.
In front of him were Ketty and Ed.
I stared at Ketty’s face. Well, the half of it I could see through the crack in the utility room door. Her eyes were storm clouds – sullen and resentful. It was unbelievably good to see her.
Actually, it was scary how good it felt.
But why was Ed here? In fact,why were either of them here? I’d asked Ketty to tell Fergus to get help, not to come herself.
Dylan flew into the room, red hair streaming out behind her. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I heard a noise outside,’ Jack growled. ‘Found these two trying to force the front door lock.’ He turned to Ed.
‘What are you doing here, Ed?’ Jack stared at Ketty. ‘And who’s this?’
Ed’s arm moved protectively round Ketty’s shoulders.
I watched, torn between annoyance at Ed and concern for both of them.
‘I’m Ketty,’ she said icily. ‘From the pub the other day, remember?’
Jack frowned. ‘How did you know where we were?’
‘Nico must have called them on my phone,’ Dylan said quickly. ‘I left it on the hall table by accident.’
Crap. Jack glared in my direction.
‘Where is Nico?’ Ketty said.
‘Here.’ I banged, hard, on the utility room door.
Ketty jumped. ‘You have to let him go,’ she said, her voice rising.
Jack ignored this. ‘Did Fergus Fox send you?’
‘No.’ Ed spoke for the first time. ‘Mr Fox is in Scotland. He doesn’t even know we’re here. I mean, Ketty spoke to him but he told us to wait at school.’
I closed my eyes. Giving that much information away was a mistake.
‘Does anyone else know you’re here?’ Jack asked.
Silence. I couldn’t see Ed’s face, but I could imagine it – all open and earnest. He muttered something in a low voice.
‘So no one knows where you are?’ Jack said, triumphant. ‘Good, well as you’re here you might as well join Nico.’ He unlocked the utility room door and shoved Ketty and Ed inside. The room was so small we were all forced to stand right next to each other.
Ketty didn’t meet my eyes. I didn’t know what to say to her, so I turned on Ed.
‘Why didn’t you wait for Fergus?’ I snapped.
‘Because Ketty wanted to find you,’ Ed explained, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
‘What happened, Nico?’ Ketty looked up at last. ‘Why did that man – Jack Linden – lock you . . . us . . . in here?’
I explained about finding the disk in William’s files and how Jack had copied the formula onto a memory card and tried to sell it to Carson. I didn’t mention that Carson now wanted me as well as the formula. I couldn’t see any point in Ketty worrying about that on top of everything else. She looked freaked out enough as it was.
‘Dylan says Jack’s taking me to meet Carson in a helicopter tomorrow morning,’ I said. ‘He’ll probably let you go first – then release me when the deal’s gone down.’
Ed leaned against the washing machine, his face deeply troubled. Could he tell I was lying? I tried to catch his eye, to warn him that if he could, he shouldn’t say anything. I didn’t want Ketty more upset than she was already. But, as usual, Ed was carefully avoiding making eye contact.
Ketty herself was looking round. Her eyes flickered past the barred window. She gasped.
‘I know.’ I grimaced. ‘It’s a prison.’ I soaked in her face, pale in the street light that seeped into the room.
‘It’s not that,’ she whispered. Her eyes filled with tears.
I stared at her, helplessly. ‘What?’
Ed looked at her, his face tense. ‘Did you see this before?’
Ketty looked away. She nodded. ‘The window,’ she whispered. ‘I saw the window.’
‘What are you talking about?’ I said.
There was a long pause. Ed reached out and squeezed Ketty’s hand.
‘I keep having dreams . . .’ Ketty’s voice was barely above a whisper. ‘I told you at Mr Fox’s house. It’s horrible. There’s one in particular. I get snatches of this cliff top – really clear. And then . . . it’s like I know something bad’s about to happen. I don’t know what exactly, it’s like a warning . . .’
I frowned. ‘They’re just nightmares.’
‘No,’ Ketty said. ‘The one of the cliff started that night you broke into Mr Fox’s house with that girl. Afterwards we came back to school . . . I missed that marathon because Mr Fox insisted we left Scotland straight away, then—’
‘Because I broke into the house?’ My mouth fell open. There was a tight knot in my chest. I hadn’t meant anything I did to stop Ketty from running. ‘I’m so sorry, babe.’
She shrugged. ‘Anyway, that night was when I started dreaming about the cliff. I’d had other visions before, but that was the first scary one. That’s why I didn’t go to Singapore to see my parents. I wanted to stay here with people who understood what I was going through.’
Ketty and Ed exchanged a knowing glance.
The knot tightened. If I’d had any doubt that they were a couple, these looks they kept giving each other made it plain.
‘What exactly d’you mean by “visions”?’ I asked.
Ketty took a deep breath. ‘Remember that night we went to that pub, when those pills were found in my bag and you tried to do that juggling thing?’
I nodded.
‘Well, when I got back to school, Mr Fox found me and he saw I was really upset. Ed had told him what happened . . .’
I glanced at Ed, but he was staring determinedly at the floor.
‘Anyway,’ Ketty went on. ‘Mr Fox took me into his office and we talked and when I told him what you’d said about the Medusa gene, he explained that . . . that it’s in me, as well. I’m the fourth person with the gene – the one Jack Linden’s looking for.’
I stared at her. Ketty was Viper?
‘Except that from what Nico’s just told us, Jack’s decided to double-cross Geri so he’s not looking for you any more.’ Ed frowned. ‘Is there any way we can get word to Geri herself, let her know what’s happened?’
‘I don’t see how. Jack’s the only person who’s got her number,’ I said, only half paying attention. ‘You’re Viper?’ I stared at Ketty, my mind whirling. ‘But . . . but you can’t be.’
Ketty shrugged. ‘Well I am. I can see into the future . . . it’s called precognition, Mr Fox said.’ She glanced at the barred window above our heads. ‘I dreamed that exact same window a few nights ago.’ She sighed. ‘It’s not the first time . . . I’ve dreamed things that came real later a couple of times, I just thought it was a weird coincidence before.’
‘But you never said anything.’ I couldn’t believe it. How could Ketty have kept all this from me?
‘Well you didn’t tell me about your abilities, either.’ Ketty flushed.
‘But you have a mum,’ I said, still completely bewildered. ‘I’ve heard you talk about her. The Medusa g
ene would have killed her.’
Ketty’s flush deepened. ‘It did,’ she said softly. ‘My mum died just like yours and Ed’s. But she was on her own so I went into care. Then, later, when I was seven or eight, I was adopted by my new mum and dad. They’d already adopted Lex a few years before . . .’
I shook my head. How come I didn’t know any of this?
‘So how far into the future can you see?’ I said at last.
‘I don’t know.’ Ketty frowned. ‘It only happens when I’m asleep . . . like dreams, but different. I see bright lights and there’s a smell too – like a sweet, heavy perfume. And then these little flashes of the future just flit in front of my eyes. The past few days I’ve seen this cliff top . . . there’s a dead tree near the edge and the sea beyond, but I don’t know where it is or when I’m going to go there. I just know something terrible is going to happen there.’
‘Wow.’ I realised my mouth was open and closed it.
‘It makes sense, if you think about it,’ Ed said earnestly. ‘From what Mr Fox told me about William Fox’s work, it’s likely that the Medusa gene would develop in different ways in different people – like an extension of their basic personality.’
I remembered Jack saying something similar, but I didn’t see how an ability to predict the future was in any way an extension of Ketty’s personality.
Ketty looked equally confused. ‘So, how come I developed precognition?’
‘Maybe because you’re quite goal-oriented,’ Ed said eagerly. ‘You know . . . focused on where you’re going, like with your running.’
‘You’re kidding,’ I said scornfully.
‘No,’ Ed insisted. ‘I mean, look at me. I’m always thinking and analysing things. So it makes sense I can read minds.’
‘I guess that does make sense,’ Ketty said slowly.
‘Yes,’ Ed went on, ‘while Nico—’
‘. . . while I like to destroy my surroundings on a daily basis and therefore was born for the psychic gift of telekinesis.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘I think you’re over-analysing this.’
Ed shrugged. ‘What about that girl who was here earlier – the one who was with you in Mr Fox’s house? What’s her ability?’ he said.
I could feel my face reddening – more because Ketty’s eyes were fixed on me than for any other reason. I hoped it was too dark in here for either of them to notice.
‘Dylan can protect her body from harm, if she knows it’s coming,’ I said.
‘So . . . maybe she’s quite a private person . . . possibly a bit shy, or defensive?’ Ed mused. ‘What d’you think, Nico?’
That didn’t sound like Dylan at all, but I didn’t want to say so. ‘I don’t actually know her that well,’ I mumbled, unable to meet Ketty’s eyes.
‘Really?’ There was a tartness to Ketty’s voice. ‘Well, d’you know if she’ll help us get out of here?’
‘No, she’s too scared of Jack,’ I said. ‘We’re on our own.’
Several hours passed. I sat up, cross-legged, on the washing machine, while Ed and Ketty slumped down onto the floor. I kept running through our options. There must be some way to use my telekinesis to escape this little room, but I just couldn’t see a way past the lock on the door and the bars on the window. I didn’t sleep, though the others seemed to drift in and out of an uneasy slumber. At one point, Ed gave a series of little snores. I glanced up. Ketty was watching him, a soft smile on her face.
She likes him.
Jealousy twisted like a knife in my guts.
‘So . . . you took Ed with you to Fergus’s house in Edinburgh?’ I said, trying to keep my tone light.
Ketty looked up at me.
‘My mum and dad agreed to Fergus mentoring me, but they wanted me to take a friend. None of the girls in our class wanted to go, so I asked Ed.’
Right.
I lowered my voice, not wanting to wake him. ‘But he’s more than a friend now?’
Ketty nodded. We both glanced over at Ed. He was breathing steadily, his head slumped to one side.
‘You’re way too cool for him, Ketts,’ I said.
‘No.’ She sighed. ‘Don’t you get it, Nico? I’m not cool. I spend all my spare time going running instead of talking about music and boys . . . I mean, I don’t like make-up and jewellery; I don’t care about clothes and my hair’s all frizzy. Look at me.’
‘I am,’ I said. ‘I do. I think you look great.’
Silence. The tension between us grew.
Then Ketty’s eyes flashed up at me. ‘What about Dylan?’
There it was again – that fierce look of jealousy I’d seen before.
‘There’s nothing going on between me and her. Nothing. I promise.’
‘Don’t lie to me,’ she hissed. ‘Tom forwarded your text and that picture to everyone. Lola says he told her you’d been seeing her for weeks.’
I stared at her. I’d completely forgotten how I’d told Tom I’d been dating Dylan – or the text I’d sent him from the train to Edinburgh.
‘That was just a cover, babe.’ A slow grin spread across my face. If Ketty was this annoyed about me seeing Dylan, it could only be because she liked me herself – whatever was going on between her and Ed.
‘I’m so fed up with you lying to me.’ Ketty’s voice rose as she spoke.
‘I’m not ly—’ I started.
A loud grunt issued from Ed. Ketty immediately turned to him. He opened his eyes and stared blearily round him.
‘Must have fallen asleep,’ he said croakily.
‘Are you okay?’ Ketty put her hand on his arm and smiled.
Ed sat up. ‘Hey, I have an idea.’ He stretched, wincing as he moved his neck. He peered through the crack in the utility room door. ‘I thought so . . . there’s a knife block in the corner,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to ask, but this is really important. Nico, d’you think you could teleport one of the knives over here?’
‘Yes.’ Ketty clapped her hands together. ‘Then we can pick the lock.’
I slithered down off the washing machine. I didn’t much like Ed taking the lead like that – or Ketty being so excited about his suggestion after calling me a liar. Still, it was a good idea.
‘I guess I could try,’ I said.
I peered through the crack in the door. The street light from outside was casting long shadows across the kitchen, but the sky was starting to lighten outside. It must be nearly dawn.
The knife block was, as Ed had said, in the corner. It took me a moment to focus, my head full of Ketty’s accusation. The worst thing was that it was true. Even though I wasn’t lying about Dylan, I had lied to Ketty before.
I concentrated on the knife block, breathed in and out . . . and brought a knife zooming through the air to the floor in front of the door. There was just enough gap under the door in front of me to slide it through.
Yes. I snatched the knife up.
‘Great idea, Ed,’ Ketty said, giving him a hug.
What about me? I was the one who actually transported the knife over here . . .
Disgruntled, I tried to pick the lock with the tip of the knife. It didn’t work, so I started carving at the wood around the lock. It took another thirty minutes and a lot of force before I’d managed to chip away enough wood to stop the lock catching in the door frame but, eventually, I did it.
The door creaked open. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and followed the others into the kitchen. The French doors out to the courtyard were covered with one of those concertina iron grilles. Ketty rattled the bars gently. ‘Can you see a key for this anywhere?’
We looked round, but there was no sign of any keys.
‘What about the front?’ Ed asked.
‘That’ll definitely be locked,’ I said. ‘Jack has all the keys.’
Crap. I looked round. The kitchen – the whole ground floor, in fact – was as much of a prison as that tiny room had been.
‘At least there’s more space out here,’ I said.
‘Wel
l that’s a comfort,’ Ed muttered under his breath.
Ketty suppressed a giggle.
Great. A new, confident, sarcastic Ed. That was all I needed.
‘Ha-ha.’ I looked at the French doors again. Those sliding metal bars over them were just so solid. There was no way we could break them down. Anyway, the noise would bring Jack running. Which was the last thing we wanted. Except . . .
I went over to the cooker and switched on the hob. The electric ring glowed red – a spooky circle in the dim light of the kitchen.
I grabbed a tea towel from the hook by the sink and held the end against the electric ring.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Ketty hissed.
‘Playing with fire, babe,’ I whispered back. ‘It’s our only way out of here.’
‘What?’ Ketty looked appalled.
‘There won’t really be a fire,’ I said. ‘I’m just going to make some smoke and set off the fire alarm so that Jack has to open the back door and let some air in.’
‘But how . . .?’
‘We hide while Jack and Dylan open the door,’ I explained. ‘While they’re busy checking out what’s causing the alarm to go off, we get out. If there’s enough smoke they won’t be able to see us escaping. And even if they do, they’ll be too surprised to stop us.’ I turned my attention to the tea towel. It was singed already – a dark burn mark spreading across the fabric.
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Ed whispered urgently. ‘Fire spreads really fast and the smoke is more dangerous than—’
Too late. The tea towel burst into flames. Holding it at arm’s length I looked up at the ceiling. The smoke alarm was just above a cluster of bottles and jars on the counter by the utility room door. I flicked it under the alarm.
‘Stop,’ Ketty squealed. She jumped back, knocking over one of the bottles. It smashed onto the floor in front of the utility room door, just as the flames from the tea towel licked at my hand.
‘Ow.’ I dropped the tea towel.
It fell onto the smashed bottle, lighting up its contents – some sort of cooking oil. The flames flared in the oil.
The Set Up Page 14
