Urban Outlaws

by Peter Jay Black

  She stopped outside her flat door and fumbled for her keys.

  A gang of four or five kids wearing baseball caps walked past. They sneered and said something to her. The woman cowered and waited for them to round the corner.

  Finally, she unlocked her front door and backed herself – and the pushchair – inside.

  Jack caught a glimpse of a pale face peering through grubby blankets. The baby must have been around eight months old and looked underfed.

  Jack and Slink rose from their crouching positions.

  ‘Ready?’ Jack whispered into his microphone.

  ‘Ready,’ Charlie said.

  Wren said, ‘What are you –’

  ‘Sshhh,’ Slink hissed, and gestured for her to watch.

  The front door to the woman’s flat closed with a final click.

  ‘Now,’ Jack said.

  Like a bolt of lightning, Charlie shot up the road on Rollerblades and slid to a halt in front of the door. She slipped off her backpack, crouched down, unzipped it, and pulled out two filled shopping bags. Straightening up, she put on the backpack, knocked loudly on the door and skated off at high speed.

  Jack smiled. He loved this part.

  The front door opened a crack and the young woman peered into the street. She went to close it again, then she noticed the bags. For a moment, Jack thought she was going to ignore them and close the door, but curiosity got the better of her. The door opened and after another furtive glance up and down the street, the woman bent down. As if she thought the bags might be booby-trapped, she peered inside.

  Her eyes went wide.

  ‘What’s in there?’ Wren said, her own eyes just as large.

  The woman lifted out a pack of nappies and examined it. Next, she removed several tins of baby food, cans of soup, cough medicine . . . She looked astonished.

  ‘Shopping,’ Wren breathed. She looked up at Jack. ‘You got her shopping?’

  ‘It’s what she needs.’

  The woman repacked the first bag and had a quick look in the second. She stayed there for a moment, looking like she was going to cry. She glanced up and down the street, then scooped the bags into her arms as if they were her baby. She straightened up and disappeared into the house, closing the door silently behind her.

  Charlie skated up to them with a big grin. ‘Did you see her face?’

  Jack nodded.

  Wren looked amazed. Apparently, it had not been what she was expecting. ‘What did you say you call that?’ she asked Jack.

  ‘Raking.’

  Slink said, ‘R. A. K. – Random Act of Kindness. Raking.’ He continued to explain as they walked away. ‘Like any job, we scope out the target – find people who need a little help, do the research, and then get them what they’re lacking. We also help out random strangers and spread some kindness.’

  ‘All anonymously,’ Charlie added.

  Wren beamed at them all. ‘That’s awesome.’

  ‘It’s only small things,’ Jack said with a shrug.

  Charlie looked back. ‘At least her day ended happily.’

  Slink pulled the sheet of targets from his back pocket and held it out to Wren. ‘Wanna pick one?’

  • • •

  The next three hours flew past in a blur. Wren positively glowed with excitement. First, she’d picked a simple target – one with a little less impact, but still satisfying – and done it herself. She’d taped a clear plastic bag to a vending machine. Inside the bag was a note – Next snack is on us – and taped to the note were a couple of pound coins.

  She’d done this to four more vending machines before Jack suggested they move on to something else.

  The next couple of targets were also easy.

  There was a bicycle with a flat tyre, chained outside a house. They taped a repair kit to the handlebars. A few streets down there was a rusty old Ford Anglia in need of a tax disc holder. Slink slid one under the wiper blade for the owner to find.

  The last target on the list was the one that had taken Slink and the others the longest to think out.

  An old man lived in a dilapidated bungalow on the corner of a street. Jack remembered that he used to have a wife, but she’d died. The house back then was clean, the garden tidy. Now, it was rundown: guttering hung loose, paint cracked on window frames, and graffiti covered the fence.

  The task was simple. All Wren needed to do was post a letter through another door. That was it. It so happened that a painter, decorator, general handyman lived a few houses further down the road.

  Slink had written a note to the man, explaining what they wanted him to do, and he’d stuffed three hundred pounds into the envelope.

  When Wren returned, she said, ‘Can we come back in a few weeks and see what it looks like?’

  ‘Of course,’ Charlie said.

  Jack’s earpiece beeped. ‘Yeah?’

  It was Obi, and he sounded anxious. ‘It’s stopped.’

  ‘What has?’ Jack’s brow furrowed. ‘The code? So?’ he said, a little confused.

  ‘No,’ Obi said, ‘you’re not getting me. I mean the interference has stopped. We’ve fixed Proteus.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  As they followed the train tracks that led back to the bunker, Jack stopped and stared up at a bridge. It towered at least ten metres above them and in the middle – in metre-high graffitied letters – were the words URBAN OUTLAWS.

  A major road went over the bridge. Traffic flowed across it day and night.

  Jack shook his head. ‘How did you do that?’

  Slink shrugged. ‘Stencils.’

  ‘Funny. I mean, how did you get up there?’

  Slink shrugged again. ‘Climbed.’

  Knowing him, he hadn’t used ropes or a harness.

  Jack looked at Charlie. She too seemed impressed. However, it wasn’t the most intelligent thing to do – tag the area around the bunker. Sure, go do graffiti – but somewhere else in London, not so close to home. Slink might as well have painted a big sign with an arrow, Secret bunker this way. Jack considered bringing this up with him, but now wasn’t the time – a train was coming.

  They jogged into the tunnel, reached a door and slid through.

  This way to the bunker wasn’t such a thrill ride. In fact, Wren was humming to herself as they hurried down a flight of concrete stairs and joined the tunnel leading to the bunker.

  Jack stopped at the airlock door and was about to open it when he froze.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Charlie said.

  Jack motioned for them to listen. There it was again – a whoosh followed by a deep thunk. He gestured for the others to keep back, opened the door and peered into the airlock corridor.

  All was quiet.

  He was about to pull back when the sliding door at the far end opened. Jack braced himself but no one came out. The door hissed shut with a heavy clunk.

  He frowned.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Charlie said.

  Jack was about to respond when the door hissed open and immediately closed again. He pushed the steel door fully open, so the others could see.

  They all watched as the sliding door kept opening and closing. Jack counted off the seconds, but there wasn’t a pattern to it. As far as he could tell it was totally random. He looked at the keypad on the wall. It kept flashing on and off. The only other way to control the door was via Obi’s computer.

  ‘Keep this door open,’ Jack said to Charlie, and stepped cautiously into the airlock corridor. The door hissed open, closed, opened, closed, each time sending a shudder through the floor and walls. ‘Obi?’ he said into his headset. No answer. He shouted, ‘Obi?’

  ‘Yeah?’ came the faint reply.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Not me,’ Obi said. ‘Security’s gone nuts.’

  ‘Can you keep it open long enough for us to get in?’

  ‘No control.’

  Jack looked at Charlie. ‘No control?’ Obi was the master of security. He was always in contr
ol.

  The door hissed open, and closed so hard a chunk of plaster fell from the ceiling.

  ‘We’ve got to get in there,’ Jack said.

  Slink squeezed past. ‘I’ll do it.’

  Jack grabbed his shoulder. ‘If that door closes on you.’

  ‘I’ll go squish,’ Slink said with a wry smile. He cracked his knuckles. ‘Bring it on.’

  Jack released his shoulder and nodded. Slink was no stranger to dangerous situations. The guy was like a cat, but Jack didn’t dare think about how many of those nine lives he’d already used up.

  Slink looked intently at the door. ‘No pattern?’ he asked.

  Jack shook his head. ‘None that I can see.’

  ‘Excellent.’ Slink’s expression now looked even more determined.

  Charlie rolled her eyes but said nothing.

  The door opened, and Slink went to step through but it slammed shut before he had time to react.

  Wren stood in the corner by the other door, wringing her hands. ‘Be careful, Slink.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ Slink said, his focus still on the erratic door as it opened and thudded closed again. ‘I’ve got this. Easy.’

  The door hissed open. Slink leapt, and three things happened all at once: he spun his body, Wren screamed, and the door slammed shut.

  The door had missed Slink by millimetres and he’d made it through.

  ‘You OK?’ Jack shouted. The door hissed open for a second and Slink gave him a thumbs-up.

  Less than a minute later, Slink came back with a chair, and as soon as the door opened he slid it into the gap. The door slammed into the chair, but held open.

  Jack waved Wren over to him. ‘You first.’

  Wren stepped forward, walking stiff and upright, eyes wide, looking nervously at the door. It hissed open for a fraction of a second, then crashed back into the chair. There was a cracking sound.

  ‘You’ll be OK, just be quick,’ Jack urged her. ‘Grab Wren when she comes through,’ he shouted to Slink.

  ‘No worries.’

  ‘You go when I tell you to,’ Jack said to Wren. The door opened, stuttered and crashed back against the chair. ‘Now.’ They helped Wren up, and within a couple of seconds she was inside.

  ‘You next,’ Jack said to Charlie.

  She nodded and braced herself.

  The door opened and banged against the chair again. Jack recoiled as splinters of wood grazed his face. Without waiting a second longer, Charlie leapt over the chair and through the gap.

  The door immediately slammed shut. There was another cracking sound, louder this time, and Jack shielded his eyes from more flying splinters. He looked at the chair. It wouldn’t take another hit. Jack took a quick breath and leapt forward. The door opened, he turned his body in the air and watched in slow motion as the door started to slide shut again. The chair snapped in the middle, each side shattering into a thousand pieces. Jack cleared the gap and hit the ground.

  He rolled over, panting, taking a moment to gather himself. He was lucky his legs were still in one piece.

  Charlie held out her hand and helped him to his feet. The lights inside the bunker were flashing on and off. The LCD monitors around Obi were blinking like crazy. It was pandemonium.

  They rushed over to him.

  Obi was panting as if he’d run a marathon. Sweat poured from his forehead, down his cheeks and his T-shirt was soaked through. His hands moved fast over keyboards and trackerballs. ‘It won’t respond.’ He looked panic-stricken. ‘Started ten minutes ago. I’ve tried everything to stop it.’

  There was a shudder as the door slammed shut and more plaster cracked and fell from the ceiling.

  ‘First things first,’ Jack said to Charlie, and they hurried down the corridor.

  Jack threw open the first door on the left, and they went inside. The electrical room was small, not much bigger than a broom cupboard, and crammed full of humming circuit-breakers and control gear. Thick bundles of cables criss-crossed the walls and ceiling.

  Jack stood in front of the server cabinet on the far wall and opened it. This connected the bunker’s security systems with the computers. If they severed the links, the mayhem would stop.

  His eyes followed the cables but there were at least thirty terminals. ‘Which one is it?’

  ‘Which one is what?’ Charlie said.

  Jack grabbed a grey cable. ‘Is this the connection from the server to the bunker’s controls?’

  ‘No.’

  Jack let go. ‘Then which?’

  Charlie pointed above the cabinet to a set of cables tied together. They were as thick as a human arm and terminated in something that looked like a network gateway.

  Jack took a fistful of the cables.

  Charlie stopped him. ‘Wait, if you disconnect them, we lose everything.’

  ‘We’ve got no choice. If we don’t do it, the door might jam and we’ll be stuck down here.’

  Charlie nudged him aside, reached up and ran her finger over the cables, muttering to herself.

  There was a thud from the main bunker.

  ‘No time left,’ Jack said.

  Charlie disconnected two network cables and the thumping door stopped. ‘See?’ she said. ‘You gotta be gentle.’

  Jack stepped back and breathed a sigh of relief. Then there came a grinding sound. ‘What now?’

  They ran back into the corridor and stopped to listen. The noise was coming from the generator room, so they went inside.

  In the centre sat a large diesel generator, fastened to a concrete plinth by thick steel bolts. The generator itself had a large radiator at one end and, at the other, wide pipes ran to the ceiling – one carried away the exhaust, the other dragged down oxygen from above.

  Jack looked at the fuel gauge. It was reading half full. That was enough to last them weeks. In the corner of the room were five spare fuel tanks and they’d barely used up the first.

  Charlie checked the radiator. It was full of water. Everything was as it should be.

  Jack was about to suggest they go back to the main room when the grinding started again. He turned around. The noise wasn’t coming from the generator itself, but from the secondary motor that pumped fresh air into the bunker.

  Charlie hurried over to it and crouched down. The motor whirred, raced, slowed, then sped up again. She looked at the meter on the side and frowned.

  ‘Its power is all over the place,’ she said.

  ‘Is that controlled by the computers as well?’

  She nodded.

  ‘We’ll have to disconnect it too.’

  Charlie stood. ‘We could cut power to the whole bunker. Give it a reboot.’

  ‘No.’ Jack had a funny feeling that would just cause them a whole lot more trouble. If the computers didn’t boot back up, then what? Who knew what extra problems they’d have to face. ‘Can you cut all the computer-controlled systems?’

  ‘Everything?’

  ‘Everything.’

  Charlie nodded. ‘Yeah, but it will take me ages just to get the air supply up and running again. I’ll have to reroute –’

  ‘Go on, do it,’ Jack said.

  Charlie hesitated, obviously unsure how long fresh air would last way down there. Days? Hours? They had no way to guess.

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ Jack reassured her, though he wasn’t so convinced.

  The motor let out a grinding protest as it sped up again. Without any more delay, Charlie hurried back to the control room and a moment later the motor slowed and stopped.

  Jack met her back in the hallway. ‘Now let’s find out what’s been happening.’

  They marched into the main room.

  ‘So,’ Jack said, in as calm a voice as he could muster, ‘what’s up?’

  Obi pointed a shaking finger at one of the screens. It was the one with the code they were copying. ‘Like I said, it stopped, right?’

  Jack nodded. ‘And you said Proteus is working?’

  Obi nodded. ‘Right, so,
I was going through the drives, trying to work out where the file had gone –’ he swallowed – ‘and I found it, here.’ He clicked the trackerball, brought up a window full of code and looked at it. ‘I think it’s a virus.’

  Jack stared at the screen. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked, though he could well believe that from what had just happened.

  ‘I’m telling you,’ Obi said, ‘it is a virus. Stupid thing zapped the hardware and caused the computers to start sending all sorts of commands.’

  Jack leant in for a closer look. It did seem like some sort of program, but how could it be? The syntax was wrong for a start. He recognised bits of different languages all jumbled together – Python, C++, Java. Other symbols Jack couldn’t even identify.

  Scrolling down, he spotted a few lines of code he did understand. The program had infected the security controls and triggered the commands to the door.

  A crease furrowed Jack’s brow.

  Charlie said, ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘As far as I can tell, Obi’s right – it’s a virus, and it’s probing.’

  Wren said, ‘What’s that mean?’

  ‘See here,’ Jack said, indicating the different lines of code. ‘It’s searching for matching language – it looks like the virus is designed to work out whatever language the newly infected system uses, and cause havoc.’ Jack pulled the keyboard towards him and scrolled through the main code. Parts of the virus were changing, in a permanent state of flux. It was like nothing he’d ever seen before. ‘It’s incredible,’ he muttered.

  Several fans sped up as the virus continued to infect the bunker’s computers.

  Obi sat up in his chair. ‘We need to kill it.’ He reached for the keyboard.

  Jack snatched it away from him. ‘Leave it.’

  ‘It’s messing with the bunker.’

  ‘Not any more,’ Jack said. ‘Charlie isolated it from our security system.’

  Obi frowned, obviously not convinced. ‘It’s still in our system. What do you want to do with it then?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Jack said. He glanced at the others. They were looking at him like he’d lost his mind. ‘Let’s just see what it tries to do next.’