Skyfire

by Michael Adams

  Andy and Dylan ran for it. Legs pumping, they bolted past gravestones and palm trees. When they risked a look over their shoulders, they saw the two men racing up the footpath after them.

  ‘We’ve gotta lose them!’ Andy swerved away, rushing low along a row of headstones. Dylan ran doubled over behind him.

  They could hear footsteps crunching relentlessly towards them. None of the monuments provided much cover now the bad guys knew they were there.

  But when Andy saw a mini earthmover next to a taped-off area, he had an idea so crazy it might just work.

  ‘Follow me,’ he panted. ‘Do what I do.’

  Keeping low, they ran towards the machine. Ahead of them, a rectangle of tape stuck to plastic poles surrounded a freshly dug grave that yawned like a black hole.

  ‘In!’ Andy said, ducking under the tape and dropping into the darkness.

  A second later, Dylan landed beside him in the soft ground. ‘This,’ he hissed disbelieving, ‘this was your plan?’

  ‘Ssssh!’

  The sky overhead was a moonlit rectangle. Worms wriggled and tumbled from the cut dirt walls. Dylan had never been so scared in his life. He had just followed his friend into an open grave! They’d done most of the work for the bad guys. All they had to do was crank up that earthmover and pile dirt on top of them. He couldn’t believe he might shortly be buried alive.

  ‘I’ve got these if we need them,’ Andy whispered, pulling two black bars connected by a length of silver chain from his backpack. ‘Nunchaku.’

  ‘You know how to use them?’ Dylan asked.

  Andy nodded. ‘Me and Dad do loads of martial arts.’

  Dylan was about to question if they’d be any good for digging their way out of the grave, when they heard footsteps coming closer across the gravel path above.

  ‘Check that out,’ one of the men said, close enough that they could hear his raspy breathing. ‘It’s an open grave.’

  Dylan ducked down, making himself as small as he could, while Andy tensed, nunchaku at the ready.

  Yasmin and Mahmoud pulled down the security shutter and locked it tight. Trembling, Radha set the silver pistol on the glass counter and sank into a seat.

  ‘Where on earth did you get that gun?’ Mahmoud asked.

  ‘Your grandfather won it in a poker game years ago. I didn’t even know it was loaded.’

  ‘Are you saying you didn’t mean to fire at him?’ Yasmin asked incredulously.

  Radha shook her head. ‘I was so nervous. It just went off accidentally.’

  ‘But what about the whole “five bullets” thing?’ Mahmoud asked.

  Radha shrugged. ‘It’s a line from my favourite action movie,’ she said mischievously.

  Yasmin and Mahmoud looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

  Their laughter was cut short by a thunk-thunk against the shutter door.

  ‘Someone’s there!’ Mahmoud said. ‘Are they back?’

  Radha reached for her weapon.

  ‘Wait!’ Yasmin urged. ‘Listen.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ a man demanded.

  They sighed with relief—the voice outside belonged to Mr Adib.

  ‘It’s Mum and Dad,’ Yasmin said. She ran to the shutter and unlocked it.

  ‘Locked up during business hours?’ Mr Adib enquired, pushing through the door with colourfully wrapped presents held in his big arms. ‘What is the big idea?’

  Mrs Adib’s worried frown deepened when she stepped inside and saw the broken plaster and shattered jewellery display. ‘What in the world happened?’

  With the shutter locked tight, the family gathered at the kitchen table. Yasmin, Mahmoud and Radha took turns to explain as Mr and Mrs Adib listened in disbelief.

  ‘I-I-I—’ Yasmin’s father said, face red with anger. ‘This is an outrage!’

  Mrs Adib nodded. ‘And what you did, Radha, was the silliest—and bravest—thing since Cleopatra had a nap with a snake. But—thank you for keeping them safe.’

  The women hugged, teary-eyed.

  Yasmin felt a tug of guilt. ‘If I hadn’t entered the DARE Awards, none of this would’ve happened,’ she said softly.

  ‘Nonsense,’ Mr Adib said. ‘You must not blame yourself.’

  ‘We have to call the police,’ Mrs Adib said.

  Mr Adib stroked his beard thoughtfully. ‘Jackal is the police. He might have protection higher up. It could make things worse.’

  ‘He said he would be back,’ Yasmin said fearfully. ‘We have to do something!’

  ‘I will call my brothers,’ her mother said decisively. ‘No-one gets through them.’

  Yasmin had three uncles. All of them were huge and had served in the army. Once they were here, the shop would certainly be safe.

  ‘Good idea,’ Mr Adib said, clapping his hands.

  Yasmin’s heart fell at the idea of leaving when her family and the shop were threatened. She wondered if she should call Miss Chen and ask for her SpaceSkimmer flight to Athens to be delayed until she was sure things would be all right.

  ‘We will be fine,’ her father said with a smile, as if reading her mind. ‘Besides, if they dare come back, we have your pistol-packing grandmother to take care of us.’

  Radha chortled.

  ‘Now, we must not let this spoil your big day.’

  Mrs Adib nodded. ‘Time to open your present!’

  Yasmin tore open the wrapping paper to reveal an expensive new backpack. ‘Red, white and black!’ she said. ‘Very stylish and very patriotic. I love it. Shukran!’

  ‘No, thank you,’ her mother said. ‘For being the best daughter parents could hope for. We’re so proud.’

  Mrs Adib nodded at the other gift on the kitchen counter. ‘And this is for the best son in the world.’

  Mahmoud’s eyes widened. ‘For me? Really?’

  Yasmin’s parents nodded. He ripped the paper open and unfolded a red leather motorbike jacket wrapped around a yellow helmet. He tried it on and checked himself out.

  ‘These are awesome, thank you!’

  ‘Well, they’re a present for us, too,’ Mrs Adib said with a laugh. ‘You know how we worry about the way you ride.’

  Mahmoud nodded and hugged his parents.

  Yasmin was glad her brother was happy. He had been so supportive of her and genuinely glad when she’d won a DARE Award. She hoped that his wish to be a movie stuntman paid off one day—and that she might even be able to help him realise that dream somehow.

  Comforted by the thought of her uncles coming, and warmed by the gifts from her parents, Yasmin began to wonder if the rest of the DARE seven were OK. If Jackal wanted to kidnap her for ransom, she hoped crooks in other countries hadn’t gotten similar ideas about her friends. Who knew what sort of creeps might be drawn out of the woodwork by their fame and fortune?

  The footsteps got closer and closer.

  Dylan started to wriggle and twitch, eyes bulging.

  ‘Stop it!’ mouthed Andy.

  Dylan grabbed the centipede that had tumbled into his shirt and flung it away.

  Crunch.

  The sound of a foot on the gravel right near where they were concealed made both boys tense. They held their breath, and balled themselves tight in the blackest shadows against the bottom of the grave wall.

  Crunch. Crunch.

  There was the flapping sound of tape being lifted.

  Crunch. Crunch.

  ‘You’d have to be out of your mind to hide in there,’ said one of the men.

  Then the moonlight was blotted out, plunging the grave into total darkness, as the men stood right above them. Andy and Dylan didn’t dare look up.

  ‘Can’t see a thing,’ the other guy said. ‘Yeah, they must have gone the other way.’

  With a kick, he sent a spray of earth and grass down into the grave. Andy and Dylan gritted their teeth but stayed still and silent as they were showered with dirt and worms.

  ‘We should get out of here,’ the first guy replied.


  Crunch. Crunch. Flap. Flap.

  The footsteps moved away.

  ‘I’m gonna phone this in. Just in case someone saw us.’

  The men’s voices sounded farther away. The boys let themselves breathe. They brushed dirt and worms out of their hair and off their clothes and stood slowly. Andy motioned for Dylan to give him a boost. Standing on his friend’s cupped hands, he peeked above the edge of the grave.

  At the end of the row of headstones, Beard Dude was looking at his phone. ‘We’ve got one more place to be,’ he said to Baldie. ‘Let’s go. We can make that call on the way.’

  Andy dropped back into the grave beside Dylan.

  ‘We’re safe for now,’ he said. ‘But if they’re calling their boss about us, we mightn’t be for long.’

  Dylan shook, barely able to believe that they hadn’t been discovered. ‘Reckon we’ve got enough evidence for your dad? And to help your mate Ethan?’

  Andy nodded. ‘We definitely don’t want to keep following them. The sooner they’re behind bars the better.’

  Once they were sure the men were gone, the boys climbed out of the grave that had saved them and ran as fast as they could to the nearest AutoTaxi.

  Back at Andy’s place, the boys calmed their nerves with some pizza and built up a theory about what was going on.

  The men had completed seven pick-ups just that day. That could mean that dozens or even hundreds of kids were being blackmailed. The fact that they seemed to be getting directions to each location via phone pointed to them being minions of some unseen criminal mastermind.

  ‘Are you sure you want to run the story?’ asked Dylan. ‘These guys might have some heavy connections.’

  ‘We’ve gotta stop them,’ said Andy. ‘My mum always said you have to go after the truth, no matter what. And that’s what I’m going to do.’

  ‘OK then. Let’s get this story up on Scoop!’ Dylan said.

  With a few verbal commands, the boys uploaded the video of Ethan and the footage from the observatory to the HoloSpace to edit and add a voice-over.

  ‘In just one day, these two criminals could’ve ripped off up to seven thousand dollars from terrified schoolkids,’ Andy narrated. ‘That could add up to millions of dollars every year. This Scoop exclusive is the first step to stopping them. All the evidence you’ve seen is being forwarded to the Los Angeles Police Department.’

  ‘Mate, this story’s a cracker,’ Dylan said when Andy had finished. ‘I’d hate to be those two now.’

  ‘Let’s hope Dad can make them give up the mastermind,’ Andy said. ‘So, as co-Scooper, you wanna do the honours?’

  Dylan nodded, instinctively wiping pizza grease off his fingers before he pressed the virtual ‘Publish’ tile floating in front of his face.

  ‘It’s live,’ he grinned.

  ‘Compose email to the Old Man,’ Andy said. The HoloSpace showed a picture of the big cop who’d been so proud of his son at the DARE Awards. ‘Upload all files from folder “Grade Scam”.’ In a flash, the video they’d recorded of Ethan, Bald Guy and Beard Dude attached to the email. ‘Send,’ Andy said. He looked at Dylan and grinned. ‘Let’s call Ethan and give him the good news.’

  Andy selected Ethan’s number. He frowned as his call connected to an automated message. ‘The number you have dialled is not in service. Please check the number before calling again.’ He was sure it wasn’t the wrong number.

  ‘I don’t think it’s connected,’ Andy said, eyes serious. ‘I hope he’s OK.’

  ‘Maybe he got a new phone?’ Dylan said. ‘You know, as a precaution?’

  Andy let out a whistle. All thoughts of Ethan disappeared as he looked at a graph of Scoop traffic on his HoloSpace. It was skyrocketing.

  ‘Wow,’ Andy said. ‘Look what’s boosted traffic to the site.’ He pulled a tweet over into the centre of the display.

  ‘Thank you very much @RealFelixScott,’ Andy grinned. ‘He posted that to his fifty million followers. It’s already been re-tweeted heaps of times.’

  The boys high-fived.

  Like the other winners, Zander had become a minor celebrity after the DARE Awards.

  Getting used to his fame was taking some time, and while Zander was happy to be interviewed by the Greek media, he was amused by some of the stranger requests that he got. A television quiz show wanted him to be a contestant. He was asked to be a commentator at a fashion parade. The producers of a popular cooking show wondered if he’d like to be a guest judge.

  With no desire to become a famous person who popped up everywhere, Zander politely said no to all of these offers. But there was one invitation that he hadn’t been able to resist: to appear at his old primary school’s special end-of-year presentation day.

  Now, looking very grown-up in a black suit and grey shirt, Zander commanded the stage in St Theodore’s hall. With hundreds of students hanging on his every word, he felt like a young version of Felix Scott.

  ‘So, in conclusion,’ he said, ‘vision, hard work and personal integrity are what the DARE Awards are all about. Thank you for having me back here to speak to you today.’

  The students clapped and cheered. Mr Markos, still principal after all these years, bounded onto the stage to shake Zander’s hand.

  ‘We’re so proud of you,’ Mr Markos said. ‘We’re very grateful to you for taking the time to visit, especially as we understand you’re going overseas soon.’

  Zander nodded. ‘Yes, in a few days I go to Seoul and Sydney to meet up with other DARE Award winners. We all then board the Infinite Horizon. From there, I am not sure. But Felix is certain to make it a great adventure.’

  Mr Markos smiled. ‘Before you leave, there are a few questions from the students.’

  Almost every hand in the hall reached for the ceiling. Zander pointed to a boy in the front row.

  ‘Was it hard to make your NEO Avenger app?’ he asked.

  ‘Like anything,’ Zander said, ‘it was one percent inspiration followed by ninety-nine percent perspiration. That is to say, anything worthwhile is always a lot of hard work.’

  He pointed to a girl at the back.

  ‘Did you know that Felix was behind the DARE Awards?’

  Zander allowed himself a little smile. ‘I was not sure. I had read his autobiography and knew his motto was “Dream, Act, Realise Everything”. So I thought DARE could be an acronym and that he might be involved. Turned out I was right.’

  Zander chose a girl with long pigtails.

  ‘What was it like meeting Felix Scott?’ she asked dreamily.

  ‘Because he started out as a young programmer, he is a real inspiration for me,’ Zander said. ‘I hope to learn as much as I can from him in the time we have together.’

  A serious-looking older boy caught Zander’s eye. The student stood up and cleared his throat. ‘Do you think the DARE Awards were rigged?’

  A ripple went through the students. Zander stiffened. ‘Rigged?’

  ‘Now,’ said Mr Markos into the microphone, ‘there’s no need for rudeness!’

  But the student wasn’t done.

  ‘Well,’ the boy continued, ‘there are seven of you from seven continents, right? But there’s hardly any kids in Antarctica, so was Mila included because of Infinity’s interests there? And do you think Dylan won just because his parents are famous?’

  Zander paused—it was a powerful public-speaking trick he had observed Felix use in New York. The boy blinked, growing uncomfortable in the silence.

  ‘I can understand why you might think that,’ Zander said. ‘But I assure you, Mila and Dylan won their places on their own merits. From what I understand, she has a formidable grasp of astronomy and he knows more about marine biology than most professors of the science.’ Zander smiled at the boy. ‘Maybe you should ease up reading so many conspiracy theories?’

  The students roared with laughter and the now red-faced student sank back into his seat.

  ‘All right, all right, calm down everyone,�
� Mr Markos ordered. ‘That’s all the time we have. Please thank Zander Demeter for being here!’

  Zander rode his motor scooter back home through the smoggy streets of Athens. As always, he was grateful to reach the coast road that led to the seaside suburb of Varkiza that he and his grandfather called home. Arriving at the imposing three-storey house set into a hillside, Zander revved up the driveway and came to a stop in the garage.

  ‘Kalispera!’ called out his white-haired grandfather, George, from the balcony.

  ‘Hello yourself,’ Zander yelled back.

  In the kitchen, Zander poured himself a glass of water and strolled out onto the balcony.

  ‘How did it go?’ George asked, setting his newspaper down on the table.

  ‘As well as I could have hoped,’ Zander replied, taking his usual seat opposite.

  ‘I’m glad you had a triumphant return to your school,’ George said, raising his glass of juice. ‘Yamas!’

  ‘Yes—cheers!’ They clinked glasses. Zander grinned. ‘Mr Markos introduced me as St Theodore’s most successful former student.’

  ‘Don’t get too impressed with yourself,’ George chuckled, wagging his finger. ‘Never forget, Alexandros, that I changed your nappies!’

  Zander laughed. His grandfather was the only person he didn’t mind making fun of him—or using his full name—because they had been through so much together. As much as Felix fascinated him, Zander reserved his real respect for his beloved George.

  ‘Have you seen this?’ George picked up his newspaper to show Zander a headline.

  FELIX SCOTT WILL ‘DESTROY THE SOUTH POLE’

  Beneath the headline was a picture of Felix Scott next to a hologram projection of one of his proposed research resorts in Antarctica.

  ‘It seems even great people have their critics,’ George said. ‘This article says his plans could ruin the environment and even threaten the South Pole Peace Talks.’

  Zander brought up another article on his phone, this one praising Felix Scott as Environmentalist of the Year, and handed it to his grandfather.

  ‘Who knows what to believe? According to this article, what Felix has planned could actually avoid war and preserve the environment.’