November

by Gabrielle Lord

  ‘What kind of help?’ I blurted out.

  ‘He thinks that because you and I are similar ages, I might have heard something, somehow. As far as I can tell he’s more convinced than ever that you’re the one holding the Riddle and the Jewel, and now he has Oriana convinced too. Cal, you have the combined forces of the king and queen of the underworld after you.’

  It felt like Sligo and Oriana had been after me forever—and that had made my life tough enough—but now they were working together?

  ‘And there’s something else,’ said Winter, looking away. ‘I’m not exactly sure, but I feel like something’s up with Sligo. I mean, something’s up in the way he’s acting with me. He looks at me differently, and I’m scared he’s onto me, that he suspects something.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’ asked Boges.

  ‘A couple of times I’ve looked up to find him scrutinising me. Then he looks away really fast, pretending he wasn’t doing it. Maybe he’s seen me snooping in his office or in the car yard. I think I know all the security cameras to avoid, but maybe there are hidden ones that I don’t know about. I might be imagining the whole thing, you know, because I feel so guilty when I’m snooping through Sligo’s stuff.’

  ‘Guilty?’ I asked. ‘What do you have to feel guilty about? He forged your dad’s will, remember? And you would never have found that out without your snooping.’

  ‘I know, I know,’ she said. ‘How could I forget? It hasn’t left my mind since I found his phoney signature. I don’t think “guilty” is the right word to describe how I feel. Sligo’s just extremely edgy lately. Everything that went on at his banquet has really spooked him. He’s always been paranoid, but now …’

  ‘Winter,’ I said, holding her hand. ‘Just promise me you’ll be really, really careful in future. I’m here for you. Always.’

  Winter squeezed my hand.

  ‘Don’t rush anything, OK?’ I said. ‘If you can hold out just a little bit longer, we’ll both be able to help you sort everything out.’

  ‘That’s right,’ added Boges. ‘We’re both here for you. Sligo is one dangerous dude. I really think you should let me design something for you—something in the line of personal self-defence.’

  ‘Nothing that requires detonation,’ I said, hastily.

  ‘I was thinking some kind of skunk gas, actually. It could be—’

  ‘Forget it!’ Winter interrupted.

  Something suddenly popped into my head. ‘Kelvin dobbed Oriana in over Gabbi’s kidnapping, right? Remember the footage we saw of her going ballistic on TV? Why is she still around?’

  ‘Allegations are one thing,’ said Boges. ‘Getting enough evidence against someone is a different matter. The police need evidence. At the moment, it’s just Kelvin’s word against Oriana’s—and who’s going to believe him against a hotshot lawyer?’

  ‘Unless he does have some physical evidence against her,’ I said. ‘Like DNA or video footage showing her with Gabbi.’

  ‘Who knows,’ said Boges. ‘Hey, want to write anything on your blog while I have my laptop out?’

  ‘I guess … It’s been a while.’ I grunted. I had a bad feeling. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe Winter’s paranoia had rubbed off on me. While waiting for Boges to access my blog, I stood up and went to the window, lifting the curtain and looking outside.

  Boges gasped.

  I let the curtain fall and turned back. ‘What is it?’

  My stomach started churning when I saw the alarmed expression on Boges’s face as he stared at the screen.

  ‘What’s that?’ cried Winter, who’d crept behind him to peer over his shoulder at the screen.

  ‘What’s what?’ I asked, nervously approaching the laptop.

  Something seriously weird was happening. Pages and pages of repeated numbers and words were scrolling over the screen. I focused my eyes to try and catch what it said.

  ‘Is something stuck?’ I said. ‘What’s with that text?’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with my machine,’ said Boges, looking flustered and hitting combinations of keys. ‘It’s just doing it by itself! Someone’s hacked your blog!’

  ‘Hacked my blog? But how?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ said Boges.

  ‘What’s going to happen on the eleventh of November?’ asked Winter.

  The three of us looked at each other. We were all blank.

  ‘That date doesn’t mean anything to any of us?’ I asked.

  ‘No, dude.’

  Winter shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘It has to mean something for someone to have hacked my blog to make it known,’ I said. ‘But is it a warning or a threat?’

  Nobody answered.

  ‘Boges, can we still post a message?’ I asked.

  Boges spread his hands out helplessly. ‘It won’t let me do anything. It’s completely frozen. I’m going to have to close it down.’

  With a few deft keystrokes, Boges shut down the page. He looked up at me. ‘Think hard. Are you sure you have no idea what that date might mean?’

  I shook my head. ‘Seriously no idea.’

  ‘OK, well I’ll sort this out. I’ll do what I can to clean it up. I don’t know how, just yet, but I’ll get it back to normal. This could just be some kind of spam. Some kind of advertising.’

  ‘I’m not so sure,’ said Winter. ‘I think it’s a warning. This blog has more protection than most, right?’

  ‘Right,’ answered Boges.

  ‘Your average spammer can’t do that.’

  Something alerted me in the silence that followed her words. All of a sudden, the building was too quiet.

  ‘Something’s wrong,’ I said, jumping up.

  ‘What?’ Winter’s shadowed eyes, dark with concern, shot over to the windows. Carefully, I opened the door and looked outside.

  ‘What is it, Cal?’

  Danger! Every instinct in my body was warning me. I shouldn’t have risked hanging around Winter’s flat for so long.

  I looked outside again. The hot expanse of the flat roof was empty.

  ‘Police siren!’ I hissed. I ran outside and looked down to the street below.

  I jumped back in horror at what I saw!

  I rushed to the rear side of the building where the fire-escape steps descended to the backyard. Again, I recoiled in shock.

  The building was surrounded!

  I raced back inside Winter’s flat.

  ‘The place is surrounded by cops! They’re crawling in the street in front of the building and there’s a whole gang of them at the bottom of the fire-escape.’

  Winter ran out to the parapet overlooking the backyard. She spun around, her hand over her mouth. ‘Oh my God! They’re about to come up!’

  ‘They must have followed you!’ I said, turning to Boges.

  ‘Why me, dude? They might have followed you!’

  ‘Shut up, you two!’ Winter yelled. ‘This is no time to be arguing. Cal! You have to get out of here!’

  ‘I’d have to be able to fly!’ I said. ‘The building’s covered!’

  I could practically hear the cops running up the stairs, taking them two at a time up to the top of the building.

  There was no escaping through the back way or the front. I ran to the right side of the building. About three metres lower than the flat roof I was standing on was the roof of another block of flats. There was a three-metre gap between the buildings. Could I jump that?

  I raced to the other side. There was no hope there—the next building was a street’s width away.

  I raced to the other side again. This was the only possibility. A big jump. From this roof to the other.

  ‘You’re not thinking of jumping across there!’ cried Winter, running over and grabbing my arm. ‘Cal, it’s too dangerous! That gap’s too big! You’ll never make it!’

  Boges bolted to my side.

  ‘Dude, don’t do it! You need to stay alive more than you need to get away from the cops!’

 
He was probably right, but I’d already made my decision. Winter gasped as I leaned over the parapet to get a better look. Carefully, I stood up on the plant box in front of it. Between the buildings was a massive drop. If I missed, I’d end up down there, splattered all over the pavement.

  ‘Dude, don’t do it. Please,’ begged Boges.

  ‘Cal,’ Winter pleaded, ‘We’ll think of something else. There must be somewhere you can hide. Don’t try this. It’s too dangerous. You’ll be killed.’

  Now I could hear the voices of the cops coming up the fire-escape.

  ‘If they catch me now, I’ll never get to the bottom of the Ormond Singularity. Anyway, it’s just as important that you two get out of here! You can’t let the cops find you either! Don’t worry about me, get away while you can!’

  Summoning every ounce of strength and willpower, I backed away from the edge until I was almost at the opposite side of the flat roof. Then I took off, running straight for the wall, as fast as I could!

  I stepped up on the plant box with my left leg, then stepped up on the roof edge with my right, then launched myself into the air, clawing myself further and further along.

  I wasn’t going fast enough! The roof of the other building was too far—I wasn’t going to make it!

  Gravity took hold and my body started free-falling. All I could see was the gutter—my only hope. I reached out desperately for it. Behind me I heard Winter scream.

  Incredibly, my fingers caught the gutter and my body swung down and slammed against the wall of the building. I looked up, legs dangling, and saw the metal already bending and buckling under my weight. I looked down and nearly puked on seeing how high I was.

  ‘Cal! The pipe!’ shouted Winter. ‘Use it to help you get up!’

  I spotted the pipe on my right.

  ‘Just get away before you’re caught!’ I yelled back through gritted teeth.

  I kicked my legs against the bricks and swung towards the pipe. I missed it.

  I kicked out again.

  This time I swung out further, and clamped down on the pipe with both of my feet. As soon as I had a good foothold, I slid my hands along the gutter until they were directly above me, then I pushed and hauled myself up and onto the roof.

  I looked up at Winter’s building. I could see nothing, but I could hear the commotion as the SWAT team finally poured out onto the roof. I hoped like crazy that my friends had somehow escaped in time. If the cops discovered Boges and Winter’s connection to me, they’d both be in very serious trouble. I didn’t want to think about Sligo finding out.

  Keeping low, I hurried over to the furthest side of the roof, relieved to see that the next building joined the one I was on. I dropped down onto its roof and kept running, past the air-conditioner housing and other pipes and fittings.

  This building had a small access ladder curving over the edge of its roof. I climbed over and started my way down.

  The ladder stopped just short of the first floor. I’d jumped from one building to another, so dropping down one floor wasn’t about to stop me!

  I landed hard, and looked around. Not too far away, sirens wailed. I could hear a helicopter overhead and realised that the police search would be fanning out all over this area.

  My heart was still racing from the terrifying leap I’d pulled off. Fuelled with the adrenaline of both terror and elation, my running speed hit a high-octane gear. All I could think of was getting far away, as fast as I could.

  I hurried on automatic, head down, avoiding eye contact, yet with every cell of my body alert to the slightest hint of danger. I hurried across roads, turned corners, ran up long streets and alleys. I didn’t care where I was going, just as long as I was getting away.

  When I found myself hurrying past a familiar building, I slowed down to glance up—I was running past Ryan Spencer’s apartment block! I stopped in my tracks and turned back to the entrance, noticing a pair of elderly women strolling through the doors with shopping bags. Should I follow them in? I wondered.

  A cop car suddenly cruising down the road made the decision for me. I hurried through the entrance, behind the ladies, just as the doors were closing.

  I ducked down, unnoticed, as the pair slowly trundled up the stairs. I took a few deep breaths and wondered whether this diversion was such a good idea.

  As soon as the stairs were clear, I hurried up them, stopping outside Ryan’s door. It was slightly ajar, and a delicious smell was wafting out of the kitchen and into the stairwell. I gave it a gentle push and stepped inside.

  ‘That was quick,’ said a woman, leaning over the kitchen bench. She stood with her back to me near the sink, beating something in a large blue and white bowl. Without turning around, she spoke again. ‘Ryan, can you please hand me the milk? You can put everything else in the fridge.’

  I froze. I didn’t know what to do!

  ‘Ryan?’ she repeated, back still turned.

  I swung around as someone else barged in through the door behind me, carrying a bag of groceries.

  Ryan Spencer!

  At that moment, the woman in the kitchen casually turned around. She was about to say something, but then she saw the two of us standing together near the door. For a few seconds she just stared at us, gaping wordlessly, looking from Ryan to me, then back again.

  Then, her eyes rolled back into her head and her knees folded under her. In a slow and graceful movement, she collapsed onto the tiled floor, completely passed out.

  ‘Mum!’ cried Ryan, dumping the groceries and rushing to her side. ‘Quick, get some water,’ he said to me.

  I grabbed a glass off the counter and filled it at the sink. I squatted down to join him on the ground, on the other side of Mrs Spencer’s body. Ryan dabbed a tea towel into the water and wiped his mum’s brow.

  I quickly looked her over, checking her pulse and breathing.

  ‘She just fainted from shock,’ I reassured Ryan. ‘She’ll be OK in a moment. I didn’t mean to scare her—I just thought I’d come up and see if you were here.’

  Ryan and I lifted his mum into a sitting position, leaning her up against the cupboards.

  ‘Thanks for your help the other night,’ I said. ‘I couldn’t have escaped without you.’

  ‘You don’t have to thank me,’ Ryan said, as his mum stirred slightly. ‘I gave them a run for their money—led them on for about fifteen kilometres, I reckon. Then I chucked your blazer, ducked up a sneaky alley, lost them, then just walked home.’

  ‘But how come you helped me?’ I asked. ‘Every other time I’ve seen you, you’ve run from me.’

  He was looking hard into my eyes. Was he seeing what I was seeing? It was like looking into a mirror, at my own bewildered eyes.

  ‘I read through your blog a little while ago. I’m not convinced you’re a bad guy. But why do you keep running?’ he asked. ‘Why don’t you just hand yourself in and prove that you’re innocent?’

  ‘There’s too much at stake right now. I can’t take the risk of being locked up—I have too much to do that depends on my freedom. And it’s not just the police who are after me …’

  ‘It’s been hard for me too, looking like you,’ said Ryan as he wet the tea towel and wiped his mum’s brow once more. ‘Everywhere I go the cops hassle me. Even my neighbours nearly handed me in last week, until my mum intervened and told them they were crazy. That’s why I spray the “No Psycho” tag all over the walls of the city. I’m sick of people thinking I’m you—it’s been going on for almost a year now.’

  I took a look at the bus pass hanging from his belt. It looked brand new—a replacement for the one I’d stolen through his open window.

  Ryan saw me looking at it and pointed to the photo on the pass. ‘See?’ he said. ‘That’s why they keep pulling me over. I don’t know why, but we’re unbelievably alike.’

  It wasn’t his photo I was staring at.

  ‘Is that your birthday?’ I asked, amazed at the date on his pass.

  ‘Sure it is. The
eleventh of November. Why? Don’t tell me it’s the same as yours?’

  For a moment I was speechless. It was the repeated date from my blog! 11 November!

  ‘No, I was born in July,’ I said, before bluntly asking, ‘Did you hack my blog?’

  ‘What?’ His face showed complete surprise. ‘What are you talking about?’ he asked. ‘I’ve never hacked anybody’s blog. Wouldn’t know how!’

  Ryan’s mum moved her head from side to side and started murmuring.

  ‘Cal, I think you’d better go before she comes around. I don’t think she’s ready for this just yet,’ he said, gesturing from his face to mine.

  I stood up. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, wondering how Ryan was going to explain me to his mum. ‘I hope she’s OK.’

  ‘Don’t worry, she’ll be fine. She’s never really admitted to seeing the similarities between us before, but I think her opinion will change now that she’s seen us side-by-side.’

  ‘We’ll talk some other time,’ I called as I snuck out the door.

  59 days to go …

  ‘Dude, we were freaking out when you took that jump!’ said Boges.

  ‘I was freaking out,’ I said. ‘I almost didn’t make it!’ I’d just called him from the beach—where I’d slept overnight—and I’d spent the last fifteen minutes telling him about how I got away and found myself facing Ryan Spencer’s mum in her kitchen. ‘So guess when Ryan’s birthday is?’

  ‘The same as yours?’ Boges asked, intrigued.

  ‘Nope. One more guess.’

  There was only a second’s hesitation. ‘Eleventh of November?’

  ‘Eleventh of November.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Deadly. Straight away I drilled him on hacking my blog—but he seriously had no idea what I was talking about. Surely the dates are connected, but why would someone go to that length to cover my blog with it?’

  ‘I don’t know, dude. Someone wanted you to know about it.’

  ‘It doesn’t make sense. So tell me,’ I said, changing the subject, ‘how did you guys get away?’