The Hostage

by Sophie McKenzie

  Nico found Dylan and told her what was going on. Ed joined them soon afterwards, having spoken to Mr Fox. We stayed up until past midnight, when Mr Fox insisted we all went to bed.

  ‘There’s nothing more you can do . . . the officials have everything under control now.’

  No, they don’t, I wanted to scream. No, they don’t.

  But I kept my mouth shut, even though the guilt I felt was so overwhelming it was like I was drowning in it.

  I thought about calling Mum and Dad and telling them Lex was being held hostage. I almost did it, in fact. I mean, it wasn’t like we had any kind of normal family life: we only spoke once a week, when Mum called from Singapore. Now we were older we didn’t even always fly out to see them during the school holidays, but they still had a right to know what was happening to their own son.

  But I couldn’t bear to tell them. They’d be straight onto the school which would mean Geri finding out that I’d lied to her. All of which would, simply, put Lex’s life in jeopardy.

  I tossed and turned, unable to sleep, my little Lex troll doll clutched in my hand. Across the dorm, Lola and Lauren were snuggled up under their respective covers. Dylan was asleep too, breathing heavily with her long hair spread out across the duvet like a red shawl.

  My mind darted around. Was Lex okay?

  What about everyone at Gayton Hospital, in South London, where the Rainbow bomb was really going to go off at 6 a.m.?

  I’d lied to Nico. I’d tricked Geri.

  Maybe if I focused hard, I could see what was going to happen. Reassure myself no one would actually get hurt. I turned my face to the moonlight and blinked, willing a vision to me . . .

  Sweet, heavy perfume filled the air . . . flashing lights . . .

  I’m running . . . an endless series of dark corridors . . . I can’t see where I am . . . just running and running . . . there’s someone beside me . . . but I don’t look round . . . I can’t see who . . .

  I snapped out of the vision. Before I knew what I was doing I was out of bed, heart racing, staring wildly round the dorm. The other girls were still asleep. Dylan had rolled over and was lying on her back, gently snoring. The wardrobe that stood along one wall cast a dark shadow into the room.

  I took a deep breath. Everything was where it always was. Everything was as it always was.

  Except at Gayton Hospital. I checked the time on my phone. Three a.m. The Rainbow bomb was going off in three hours. My visions clearly weren’t going to help save anyone. Even if the dark corridors I’d just seen myself in were in some way relevant, I had no idea where they were – or when I was going to be running through them.

  It was suddenly clear to me that I had to call the hospital . . . tell someone I’d seen a man with a bomb, then ring off before anyone asked me any questions.

  Foster would never know it was me. Lex would be safe.

  Except . . . I’d have to explain how I knew it was a bomb. I mean, no one would believe me unless the description I gave matched up with the description of a Rainbow bomb. And I had no idea what a Rainbow bomb looked like.

  How could I find out?

  The answer came immediately.

  Ed. Hadn’t I seen a folder called Rainbow Bomb Research on his laptop? He must have got the information from the internet. I could log onto one of the school’s library computers and do the same thing.

  No. That would take too long. I had to see Ed’s own file. If I could sneak a look at what he’d found then I’d surely have enough information on the bomb to sound convincing.

  I hurried into my sweats and trainers and set off for the boys’ dormitories. It was totally illegal to venture into their rooms at night, but I didn’t care.

  I tiptoed along the main hall, down the corridor. Past the canteen and the kitchens and Mr Fox’s office, and up the stairs to the boys’ dorm that Ed shared with Nico and two other boys. Their door was closed. I opened it as softly as I could and crept inside. The beds were arranged just like in my own dorm. Two beds on one side of the room and two on the other. Nico was in the bed furthest from the door. He was sleeping on his side, his hair across his face. He looked peaceful. Beautiful. My heart twisted as I remembered how I’d lied to him about my vision before.

  Ed slept in the bed opposite. As I glanced over he was struggling onto his elbows. ‘Ketty?’ he whispered. ‘Is that you?’

  ‘Ssssh.’ I crept a little closer. ‘I’m really sorry to wake you. Um, can I borrow your laptop?’

  ‘It’s okay, I wasn’t asleep.’ Ed frowned as he sat up properly. ‘Just give me a sec.’

  I waited outside. Half a minute later Ed appeared. He was dressed, as usual, in smart chinos and a jumper though his sandy hair was tousled, even for him. His laptop was under his arm.

  I held out my hand. ‘I just need to borrow it.’

  ‘Er . . . let’s go down to the music room in the basement,’ he whispered.

  ‘But—’

  ‘Come on, it’s soundproofed. We can talk properly there.’

  Ed headed for the stairs. I had no choice but to follow.

  We crept downstairs on tiptoe. The basement was dark and cold. Ed led me past a couple of storage rooms and into the music room. As soon as we were inside he shut the door.

  ‘So, what’s this about, Ketty?’

  ‘Nothing much.’ I tried to sound casual. ‘I was just looking for some information on your laptop . . .’

  ‘And you had to look for it in the middle of the night?’

  Shit.

  I perched on the piano stool in the corner of the room. It was no good – I couldn’t lie any longer. Especially not to Ed.

  Anyway, if I was honest, it would be a relief to tell someone.

  ‘Okay, it’s the Rainbow bomb,’ I blurted out. ‘I saw you had a research file on it when I borrowed your laptop the other day. I . . . er, was interested.’

  ‘Right.’ Ed rubbed his forehead. ‘Why?’

  I stared at him. Oh God.

  ‘I need to know what it looks like.’

  ‘Oh.’ Ed frowned. ‘I don’t know exactly what it looks like,’ he said slowly. ‘I mean, I don’t have a picture. It’s classified information – MoD top secret sort of thing . . .’

  I bit my lip. Of course. Why hadn’t I thought of that? No way were pictures of a high-explosive, state-of-the-art bomb going to be found lying about on easily accessible websites. How stupid was I?

  I sank back against the piano. So much for my big idea. It was hopeless. It was totally hopeless. Foster was going to set off the Rainbow bomb and innocent people would die and I had no guarantee, even after all of that, that Lex would actually be okay.

  I cried – soft, warm tears leaked through my fingers and down my cheeks. I felt Ed’s arm round my shoulders and curled into him, sobbing my heart out. He squeezed my arm and I was reminded of those few weeks a while back when he and I had gone out. Not that it had amounted to much – just a few hugs and kisses, really. I cried harder. Ed hugged me properly. He was skinnier than Nico, but still broad and solid . . . comforting.

  At last I pulled away, wiping under my eyes. Ed left the room, silently, and retrieved some toilet paper from the bathroom down the corridor. He handed me a length, then looked away as I blew my nose.

  ‘It’s bad, isn’t it?’ he said.

  ‘What?’ I sniffed. I looked up at him. He stared across the room.

  ‘Whatever it is that you’ve seen in a vision that you haven’t told anyone.’ He turned to me, almost looking me straight in the eye. ‘I know what it’s like to keep a secret, Ketty. I keep them all the time – whenever I mind-read someone and see their private thoughts and feelings.’

  My chest tightened. ‘I didn’t see this in a vision . . .’

  Ed nodded. He didn’t speak. The atmosphere around us grew heavier. I stared at my lap.

  ‘I can’t tell you,’ I whispered.

  There was a long pause, then Ed cleared his throat. ‘Well, if you can’t tell me . . .’ he said
gently, ‘maybe you could show me.’

  I looked up, slowly, my heart beating fast, knowing what was coming.

  Our eyes met.

  Whoosh. It was like he was sucking my mind in on itself. And then his own consciousness was inside my head. I was trapped by it, held by it.

  Don’t worry. Ed’s voice in my head was soft and soothing. I’m only going to look at what you want me to see. Do you trust me?

  Yes. I thought the words. There was no way I could have spoken anyway, not unless Ed had let me.

  Then show me what it is that’s upsetting you so much.

  I let the memory of my meeting with Foster and Lex at Highgate Cemetery and Foster’s subsequent phone calls and demands flow through my thoughts.

  And now Geri’s sent the police to the wrong hospital and the bomb’s going to go off at Gayton Hospital in South London instead and I thought if I made an anonymous call and said I’d just seen Foster planting the Rainbow bomb, then . . .

  Another whoosh and I felt Ed’s consciousness withdraw from me. I blinked, finally able to speak. Ed was staring at me, his mouth open in horror.

  ‘That hospital . . .’ His voice was hoarse. ‘All those people . . .’

  ‘I know.’ My eyes filled with tears again. ‘That’s why I want to call and say I’d seen Foster, but I don’t even know what a Rainbow bomb looks like and if you don’t know either, then—’

  ‘I know enough.’ Ed leaped to his feet. ‘Come on.’ He grabbed a school jumper that someone had left lying over a chair and shoved it into my arms. ‘There’s no signal down here. We’ll have to go outside. Put this on. It’s cold.’

  I scurried after him, feeling bewildered. Ed was walking so quickly I almost had to run to keep up.

  ‘I thought you said you didn’t find out anything when you did your research?’ I whispered as we made our way back through the main school building to the fire door closest to the front gates.

  ‘Not when I looked on the internet. The ‘Rainbow’-related stuff on there is all about these atomic weapons that were tested in space – when they exploded they created these coloured auras or something,’ Ed whispered back. ‘So I asked Geri. She explained that actual Rainbow bombs are small – no bigger than a pocket laptop – with coloured wires hidden under a panel next to the timer. I don’t have a picture but . . .’

  ‘Coloured wires?’ I said as we let ourselves quietly through the fire door. ‘Is that where the nickname comes from, then? I mean “Rainbow”?’

  ‘Yeah, you have to cut the wires in the order of the colours of the rainbow. Red first, then orange, and so on . . .’

  I stopped in the cold night air as a thought struck me.

  ‘Maybe you could make the call,’ I said. ‘You know more about the Rainbow bomb than me. And if Foster hears about a boy making an anonymous tip-off he’ll know it wasn’t me.’

  ‘Er . . .’ Ed rubbed his head. ‘But I don’t know what Foster looks like.’

  ‘Yes you do – Geri showed us his picture last week. He’s tall with dark, wavy hair and grey eyes. It doesn’t matter anyway – you’re not going to hang around to give a proper ID, are you?’

  ‘I don’t know . . .’

  ‘Please, Ed.’

  He looked at me, almost meeting my gaze, his own expression suddenly animated. ‘How about if I say I planted the bomb,’ he suggested. ‘That way we don’t need to worry about what Foster or the bomb look like. I’ll just say it’s there and ring off.’

  My eyes widened. Why hadn’t I thought of that?

  ‘Brilliant idea,’ I said.

  Ed beamed. We crept round the corner to the back of the kitchens. Ed took out his phone and dialled directory enquiries for Gayton Hospital’s number.

  I stood next to him as he phoned the hospital and, in the stillness of the night, could hear both sides of the conversation.

  ‘Can I help you?’ The receptionist sounded weary.

  ‘Yes, er . . . I’ve just planted a bomb in your hospital,’ Ed blurted out.

  Silence. Then the receptionist spoke again, even more wearily. ‘A bomb? Where?’

  I frowned. That wasn’t the reaction I’d been expecting. Why didn’t the receptionist sound alarmed?

  ‘I’m not going to tell you.’ Ed said, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. ‘But you have to evacuate the hospital, now.’

  I held my breath.

  ‘Your name, please.’ The receptionist now sounded disdainful. And, still, completely unconcerned.

  ‘I can’t . . .’ Ed frowned, glancing sideways at me.

  ‘Hold the line.’ Some ancient pop song replaced the receptionist’s voice.

  ‘I don’t think she believes me,’ Ed said, nervously.

  I bit my lip. ‘Wait and—’

  ‘May I help?’ A man’s voice now. Stern and forbidding.

  Ed gulped. He repeated what he’d told the receptionist.

  ‘What’s your name?’ the man asked. ‘How old are you?’

  ‘I can’t say . . .’ Ed looked frantically round at me.

  My heart thumped.

  ‘Really.’ The man sighed. ‘Well, whoever you are, let me tell you that yours is the fifth bomb scare call we’ve received tonight since that other hospital started evacuating. Do you have any idea how much these hoax calls cost us – and I don’t just mean the money?’

  ‘No,’ Ed insisted, his voice rising. ‘This is the real bomb. Not the one at Linhurst.’

  ‘OK then, give me your name and age and explain exactly where you are now and what you’ve done with this bomb of yours.’

  ‘Well – it was someone else who planted the bomb,’ Ed went on.

  Shit.

  ‘A friend of yours, is it?’

  ‘No . . . yes . . . no . . .’ Ed switched off his phone. Even in the gloom of the night I could see his face was bright red. He turned to me. ‘I’m sorry, Ketty.’

  I shook my head, my heart sinking. ‘Don’t . . .’ I paused, as the only possible remaining course of action occurred to me. I checked the time. ‘You know what we’ve got to do now?’ I said.

  ‘Yes, we have to call Geri. You have to. You have to tell her everything that’s happened with Foster . . . how he’s blackmailing you over Lex . . . how the real bomb is going to go off at Gayton Hospital in . . .’ Ed checked his watch, ‘. . . in a couple of hours. And—’

  ‘No.’ I looked at him, my heart pounding. ‘If I tell Geri everything then Foster will know I’ve grassed him up and Lex will die.’

  ‘But all those people in the hospital . . .’ Ed rubbed at his forehead. ‘We can’t just stand by and do nothing . . .’

  ‘That’s what I’m saying,’ I went on, the words tumbling out of me. ‘We have to go there . . . to Gayton Hospital. In person.’

  Ed stared at me as if I were mad. ‘But then we’ll get blown up by the bomb. How does—?’

  ‘I reckon if we hurry we should get there at least half an hour before the bomb’s due to go off. You never know, we might see Foster and find a way to stop him. We don’t know when he’s planting the bomb, do we? And if everything else fails, we can still tell someone at the hospital face to face we’ve planted a bomb. Or you can. You can mind-read them into believing you.’

  ‘You mean, like, hypnotise them? That’s not how it works. I don’t know if—’

  ‘Please, Ed.’

  ‘But what if they ask difficult questions again?’

  ‘You can describe the bomb. You just told me all about it.’

  ‘Okay.’ Ed frowned. ‘But if we go in person they’ll know for sure how old we are and Foster is more likely to realise you’ve gone behind his back.’

  ‘I know . . . it’s a risk. But at least this way we stand a chance. Please, Ed. I can’t do all this alone.’

  For a second Ed hesitated. Then he set his mouth in a grim line.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’

  We got a night bus from outside school into town. It took ages. By the time we
got to central London, it was almost light and the first underground trains were running. We sat, lost in our own thoughts, as the train headed south. Then we were off the tube and Ed had to consult his laptop again to find out where the hospital was exactly. So it was almost 5.40 a.m. by the time we turned the corner and saw it – a concrete jumble of assorted buildings – at the end of the road.

  Flashing lights and a strong scent.

  Dark corridors. Running. Foster’s voice is in my head. ‘Rick. It’s all about Rick.’

  The vision vanished. I swallowed. Maybe the corridors I kept seeing belonged to this hospital. And there were only fifteen minutes left until the bomb went off.

  ‘Come on!’ I grabbed Ed’s arm, urging him on.

  We broke into a run, and raced into the hospital car park. My heart was pounding. ‘Let’s go inside,’ I panted. ‘Just grab the first person we see.’

  Ed nodded. The car park was virtually empty. We raced past a shed overflowing with bins to the main entrance. The hospital stretched out on either side, a mass of buildings.

  We reached the wide, glass front door. I lifted my hand to push it open.

  WHAM! The blast rocked the ground under our feet.

  ‘Aaagh!’ I grabbed Ed’s arm, stumbling.

  My whole being filled with horror. We were too late.

  16: Silence

  I spun round. Smoke was pouring out of the bin shed we’d just passed. Cars nearby screeched their alarms – the piercing noise filling the chilly dawn air. Shouts and screams echoed from the hospital – but the blast was definitely confined to the bin shed.

  I stared wildly at Ed. Hadn’t Geri said a Rainbow bomb was extremely powerful? He was gazing at the smoke, his mouth open.

  ‘What happened?’ I said. ‘Was that the Rainbow bomb?’

  A couple of paramedics rushed past us. People were appearing at windows along the side of the building. All eyes were on the smoke and the bin shed.

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Ed shook his head, his mouth still gaping. ‘A Rainbow bomb should have taken out the whole hospital.’

  More people streaming into the car park now. The dawn hush completely blasted away. Ed grabbed my arm. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he said.