January

Home > Other > January > Page 7
January Page 7

by Gabrielle Lord


  I could tell them about the mysterious Ormond Riddle, maybe get them to help us find out what the Ormond Singularity was, and clear this whole mess up.

  I could feel my confidence and strength returning. Our family would be helped.

  Yes, that’s what I would do.

  All I had to do was find a police station.

  I turned the corner a few blocks from home, past the big hotel where Dad sometimes used to go with work friends. That was back then, when the world was normal, when Dad was alive and my family was safe. I distracted myself by looking in through the doorway of the hotel lounge, my eyes drawn to the huge plasma screen that filled most of the far wall.

  I blinked.

  It was me.

  My face filled the giant plasma screen …

  The camera moved to a senior police officer. ‘Police have not yet released the names of the victims,’ he announced. ‘The first, a man aged in his forties and believed to be a close relative of the alleged offender, is expected to make a full recovery. The second victim, a girl aged nine, also a close relative, is in intensive care. Police are warning the public not to approach the suspect but to call the police if he is seen. He has already seriously attacked two people and could be dangerous if approached.’

  They were talking about me!

  They were showing my face as the attacker!

  I moved quickly, head down, hurrying past the hotel, hoping no-one would look up and see me.

  Around the corner, I started running. I’d have to get home. To Mum. Explain it all to her. She could go with me … to the police. Together, we could sort it all out …

  I slowed to a fast walk and became aware of a car cruising along beside me. A sideways glance—and I freaked out. It was a squad car!

  I made a quick left-hand turn into the nearest lane, running like crazy. The police car accelerated and screeched around the corner.

  I made another sudden turn down a narrow lane and scrambled over the nearest fence, falling into a big mess of hydrangea bushes. I crouched motionless, squashed against the fence, sweating in the heat, hoping they couldn’t hear me panting, and then finally the squad car sped past me in the lane. When I could no longer hear it, I climbed back over the fence and headed home.

  I flattened against the wall of the house on the corner of my street, peering around cautiously.

  I jumped back fast. Police were everywhere! Two detectives stood outside in the garden of my place, while other officers in navy blue overalls swarmed around in the street outside.

  Another squad car blocked the other end of my street. There was no way I could make it to the house.

  ‘Hey! You!’

  I’d been spotted again!

  I turned and ran.

  ‘There he is! After him!’

  I bolted, pelting along as hard as I could, jumping over rubbish bins, scrambling cats, until I’d come to the corner at the other end of the street that joined ours in a right angle. But instead of turning and following the street, I continued straight ahead, jumping a low brick wall, and hurtling through the garden of a small cottage, down the side passage, over the gate and straight on through the garden at the rear of the house. I threw myself over the back fence, falling heavily to the ground on the other side.

  I was in the backyard of another small cottage, not far from a washing line. I waited there for a while, listening to my heart rate slowly ease. I switched my phone off and looked around in disbelief. Here I was, hiding out near some stranger’s washing, while the police hunted me.

  I was trapped in a nightmare.

  Any second now, I’d wake up, safely home with my family.

  There was no waking from this. This was my new reality—I was a hunted fugitive.

  I huddled there till nightfall. I could smell dinner cooking and watched the lights come on and off.

  Finally, I crept out, cramped and hungry. In the garden shed near the bushes I’d hidden in, I found an old brown rain jacket. I shook the dust and spiders off it, and in spite of the hot night, pulled it on. I climbed over the fence again and back onto the street.

  I started walking.

  The bright lights and the busy people of Liberty Square comforted me a little. With the collar of the rain jacket pulled up around my face and my cap pulled down, I hoped I wouldn’t be recognised.

  The smell of food from the nearby cafés was making me hungry. I sat down with my backpack in a park near the fountain and searched through all its pockets. I had exactly three dollars and forty-five cents. If I wanted food in the morning, I’d have to get to an ATM. But if I did that, and the police found out, they’d know where I was.

  I stopped searching for money and sat with my head in my hands. Mum would be out of her mind with worry. And what about Gabbi? In intensive care! Was she going to be OK?

  I switched my phone back on and it rang almost straight away.

  I snatched it up.

  ‘Cal, thank God you’re all right!’ cried my mum. ‘Where are you? You must come home!’

  ‘I can’t, Mum! Everyone thinks I attacked Gabbi and Uncle Rafe! What the hell is going on? Why would they think I did it?’

  ‘Darling, we can talk about that, later, OK? Please, just come home.’

  ‘Did you get my message? When I got home, Gabbi and Rafe … they were both unconscious. Gabbi wasn’t even—’

  ‘Yes, darling,’ she cut me off. ‘Whatever you say. Just come home. Please Cal, this is too much, just come back!’

  Whatever you say What was wrong with her?

  I could tell from the way Mum was talking that she wasn’t listening to me.

  ‘Is Gabbi going to be OK?’ I asked.

  ‘We all hope so. Now please just come home! I’ve got to go back to the hospital now. But I’ll be home in an hour or so. Wait for me there.’

  She hung up. I could hear the stress and the tears in her voice. Poor Mum had no-one to help her. Now she didn’t even have me.

  I was about to text Boges to meet me at Liberty Square, but if the cops seized his mobile they’d come straight for me!

  I’d have to think of something.

  Last year, we found a twenty dollar note in the bushes near the fountain. I’d ask him to meet me there. Boges would know what I meant: meet me at 10 where we found the 20.

  I was so happy to see Boges. I called him over to a secluded spot in the park.

  ‘How’s Gabbi?’ I asked, pulling him out of the light. ‘I know she’s in hospital. Mum said—’

  ‘Look man, what’s going on? You’re in so much trouble. I probably am too—Mum thinks I’m asleep in bed.’

  ‘Gabbi?’ I reminded him. ‘And Mum? How is she? Is Uncle Rafe OK? Was he shot?’

  ‘Hey, slow it down! Yes, Gabbi’s in hospital. She’s in pretty bad shape, but she’s going to be OK, OK? And your Uncle Rafe’s in hospital, too. Yeah, he was shot, but he’ll survive. Your mum is all right—under the circumstances. But you’d better tell me what the hell’s going on? What did you do?’

  ‘Do? What do you mean? I didn’t do anything! I came home and found Rafe bleeding on the floor and Gabbi wasn’t even breathing!’

  I pushed away the burger he was offering me. I couldn’t eat. ‘Why? What are they saying I did?’

  ‘Man, I know you. I know you’d never do anything to hurt the Gabster. But that’s what everyone’s saying you did. I thought you might have had a fight with Rafe, that ended in … oh, dude, I don’t know.’

  I was too shocked to say anything for a moment.

  ‘I thought it was my kidnappers in the house, but it wasn’t. When I came home I … I got Gabbi breathing again! I didn’t hurt her. Why would I hurt her?’

  ‘Apparently she said something about it when she was picked up by the paramedics. She screamed out your name, before falling unconscious again. And that’s not all. Rafe says he thought he heard your voice, upstairs, shouting at Gabbi, and then when he went up to see what was going on, he was shot! He managed to crawl down the hall
way before passing out.’

  I could hardly believe what I was hearing.

  ‘You’d better eat something. You look sick.’

  I picked up the burger, then put it down again.

  ‘Look, I know what’s been going on, and I know you’d never do something like that,’ said Boges.

  ‘But everyone else does, apparently. No wonder the police are after me. And that explains why Mum was so weird on the phone. But what is she thinking? And the bad guys were probably shaking Gab, demanding she tell them where to find me.’ I felt so sick, thinking of my poor little sister, wanting to protect me. ‘She probably knew it was me they were after, and only screamed my name to warn me …’

  I felt dizzy so I crouched on the ground.

  ‘I’ll find a way to clear your name.’ said Boges. ‘Don’t worry. You can count on me.’

  I tried to smile. ‘But who would have done this to a little girl,’ I added, ‘and to Uncle Rafe? I know something’s up with him, but even so. Maybe he sensed that he needed protection, rightfully so, and that’s why he’s been a bit strange.’

  Boges finished his burger and licked his greasy fingers. ‘Maybe it’s all part of their plan—whoever they are. Get rid of the whole family. They’re dangerous and determined.’

  ‘The cops came round to our place,’ he said after a pause. ‘They thought you might be hiding there. They wouldn’t believe my mum when she said you weren’t. They want my mobile and I’m sure they’ll want my hard drive, too.’ He stood up and walked towards the fountain, then came back, kicking a stick out of the way. ‘They said they could confiscate any item that might be helpful to them. Said it was now an attempted murder investigation. Possibly even actual murder.’

  ‘Murder?’ I said. Then it hit me. The police were thinking ahead. In case Gabbi died.

  I jumped up. I couldn’t bear to think of that.

  Boges must have seen my face because he put a hand on my arm, and he’s not a touchy-feely kind of guy. ‘Gabbi’s going to be OK. She’s a little fighter. Of all people, you should know that! Remember the day she almost KO’d you when you told her you’d given her Jelly Babies CD to the school fete?’

  I nodded, almost smiled. ‘Then how am I going to contact you?’ I asked, despairing.

  Boges grinned and pulled out a mobile phone I hadn’t seen before. ‘They don’t know about this one,’ he said, giving me the number. ‘And if they take my hard drive, they won’t find anything. I can fix up another one pretty quick—I just need a motherboard.’

  ‘I’ll contact you again when I’ve got somewhere to hide out. And when you come, please bring some clothes and some money. And I’ll need a torch, candles, and matches too. Thanks Boges,’ I said.

  But there was something else I needed to tell my friend. ‘You’d better be careful, too, Boges. It’s only a matter of time before the people who are after me join the dots and start coming after you. Once they discover you’re my friend.’

  Boges blinked. ‘I thought the cops were bad enough.’

  ‘I’m really going to need your help.’

  Boges didn’t hesitate. ‘Man, you’ve got it.’

  We swapped clothes and although Boges’s shorts were too big for me I pulled them tight with my belt. Boges looked ridiculous in my shorts—they were way too small for him—but he didn’t care. I gave him the old rain jacket as well.

  ‘Great start to the new year,’ I said. ‘This is all because of the missing drawings and whatever was taken from that jewellery box,’ I said. ‘We’ve got to find those drawings. Boges, you know we’ve got to go back to the cemetery, right? We have to go tonight.’

  355 days to go …

  Boges and I crept through the gloom, passing the tall cypress trees that lined the cemetery’s walls. Clouds scudded across the sky, blocking the moonlight so that once we turned down the road leading to the cemetery gates we had to find our way with the narrow beams of light from our mobile phones.

  ‘I have to say, this is not my idea of fun,’ said Boges.

  ‘It’s not about fun. It’s to get into Rafe’s secret storage box.’

  This cemetery raid was at least taking my mind off what I’d found at home earlier.

  ‘Once we get hold of those drawings,’ I said, ‘I’m sure we’ll have a better idea of what Dad found out in Ireland.’

  ‘Right. That’s if the ghouls don’t get us first.’

  The gates were closed but we scaled them easily enough, although I had to help Boges haul himself over. We dropped onto the other side, and crept low in the dark. I hoped no-one had seen us and that we hadn’t been picked up by any surveillance cameras.

  ‘OK,’ I said. ‘No-one around. Let’s go quietly down to the vault and check it out.’

  ‘And then let’s get the hell out of here. This place gives me the creeps.’

  I was with Boges on that. In the gloom, the marble columns and angels formed ghostly figures around us.

  ‘Hey! What was that?’ Boges hissed, suddenly grabbing my arm.

  ‘I didn’t hear anything.’

  ‘Listen!’

  I did, standing still. After about 15 seconds of silence I gave Boges a shove. ‘Come on. You’re spooked, that’s all.’

  We were almost at the Ormond vault. I could see its bulk in the cold light of the moon which was suddenly sailing brightly above, freed for the moment from the heavy cloud. We hurried over, climbed the couple of steps to the front door. Boges shone his mobile light onto the lock while I twisted the key in it. The door loudly creaked open. We listened; afraid security might have heard something, and then squeezed through the opening. The air was musty, cold and very still.

  ‘I’d better wait here … in case anyone comes,’ whispered Boges. He was a smart guy, but his gran had told him far too many Ukrainian ghost stories.

  I guided the beam of light around the four shelves in the front section until it fell on the carved wooden box Mum had bought. ‘Hi Dad,’ I whispered. ‘Just here to pick up the drawings you wanted me to have.’

  Then I directed the light onto the plastic storage container on the floor, squatting beside it, clicking open the handles.

  I found the drawings straight away. They were sitting right on top of everything. I didn’t even look at what else was in there, I just grabbed them. My excitement mounted as I lifted them out. I was aware that Boges had crept in and was peering over my shoulder, curiosity overcoming his concern about spooks. I looked at the first one. It was the angel again, the Ormond Angel.

  ‘Let’s get out of here. Grab them and let’s go,’ said Boges.

  I folded them carefully and stashed them in my backpack.

  ‘This is not a cool place to hang out,’ Boges said, as he cautiously shone his mobile into the dark recesses of the vault, revealing the stairs to the lower chamber. ‘I didn’t know it had another level.’

  He took a couple of hesitant steps further into the mausoleum as I stood up. ‘Looks full down there,’ he said.

  ‘That’s right. All the really old coffins, from generations ago, are stored down there. Come on. We’ve got what we came for. Let’s get outta here!’

  Boges went home, leaving me with the drawings. Now I was searching for somewhere to hide—safe from prying eyes. I wanted to find a place to stash the drawings and grab some sleep. All my life I’d taken so much for granted. Right now, I’d have done anything to be in my bedroom at home.

  I wandered the streets for ages, avoiding eye contact with everyone, and keeping well away from any police, until I found myself outside a row of old houses—dumps now, but probably mansions in their day. One of the biggest houses at the far end, I had noticed, had been adapted into a backpacker hostel.

  Many blocks down the road, and when I was so tired from walking that I thought I’d just have to curl up under a tree like a cat, I noticed a ‘For Sale’ sign attached to number 38, a semi-derelict mansion with a very overgrown front yard.

  I took a closer look. The windows downstai
rs were boarded up and the front door had strong planks diagonally nailed across it. It seemed deserted.

  I crept up quietly to the front door and around the verandah. One of the side windows wasn’t fully covered by timber and I was able to get my hands around the lowest piece, and after a struggle, prise it free.

  No-one could see me there on the side verandah of the old place. It took a while, but once I had the first piece of timber off, the other bits came away more easily.

  I climbed inside, dragging my backpack through behind me.

  When my eyes got used to the darkness, I could just make out old-fashioned wallpaper, stained and discoloured, hanging off the walls of the room. Cracks of light from the streetlamp outside helped me to see that two old broken chairs leaned up against the front wall, and dirty old newspapers littered the floor. In one corner there’d been a staircase, but it had rotted and all that remained of it was a few steps going nowhere against the wall. The rest was a pile of broken timber collapsed beneath.

  I didn’t want to explore any of the dark areas until daylight, they were probably full of rats. It was a miserable place—neglected, alone and falling apart. But it would do for now.

  I sat down and messaged Boges on his secret mobile with the address, reminding him to bring along the things I’d asked for. Then I curled up in one corner and fell asleep.

  Someone was trying to get in the front door!

  Jolted awake with panic, I skulked over to the door and squinted through a crack.

  Thank God. It was only Boges. I whispered to him to come round to the side of the house.

  He handed me a computer bag and climbed in through the window, looking around.

  ‘This place is pretty cool. For a dump.’

  He walked around, carefully feeling his way, suspicious of the sagging floorboards. ‘There’s a hole here,’ he called out. ‘It goes right underneath the house.’

 

‹ Prev