by Bali Rai
‘Did you change your password back at our house?’ he asked.
‘Yeah – why?’
He pointed to the screen. ‘And you didn’t access Facebook from your phone – just now?’ he added.
‘No. I just typed the password in when we got here.’
‘Someone’s playing games with you, then,’ he said.
‘I think you’ve got a RAT infestation.’
‘A what?’ both Kane and I asked together.
‘Remote Access Trojan,’ Alfie replied.
On the screen, the latest comment on my bogus post was from me too. My blood froze as I read it:
If you think Molly’s a slag – make sure to tell her. If I was that desperate, I would kill myself – hint, hint, Molly . . . LMFAO. LOL.
27
I said nothing for nearly ten minutes – just sat and stared at the screen. The brothers saw that I was upset and gave me some space. Alfie drank his tea and Kane read the comments on my bogus post. My phone, lying on my bed, buzzed continuously, but I couldn’t look at it. I didn’t dare. When, eventually, Alfie broke the silence, I was in tears.
He sat back in my chair. ‘Do you know what a Remote Access Trojan does?’ he asked.
I didn’t, nor did Kane.
‘You download an attachment or software,’ Alfie explained. ‘It can be anything, but you have to click to accept it. Once you do, you let the virus in – like through an unlocked back door.’
‘Into your computer?’ asked Kane.
‘Yeah,’ said Alfie. ‘Once it’s in, the RAT sits in the background. It can access anything on your hard drive, even shut it down . . .’
‘That’s insane,’ I replied, wiping my eyes. Had someone been watching everything I did on my PC? The thought made me shudder.
Kane noticed my discomfort, put his hand on my arm and smiled warmly.
‘It happens,’ Alfie told me, giving his brother an odd look. ‘You know how many people download free music and video torrents? Like all those file-share sites? People never think about infections. They just want free stuff.’
I shook my head again. ‘But I’ve never done that,’ I protested. ‘I don’t download anything that way. It’s as bad as stealing from a shop.’
Kane nudged my memory. ‘The video from Amy,’ he said. ‘The one you mentioned round mine?’
My thoughts were so jumbled. I couldn’t stop thinking about being watched online. It was creepy. I told Alfie about the video attachment and software download.
‘That’ll be it,’ said Alfie. ‘Or something like that, anyway.’
Behind me, my phone continued to vibrate. I wondered if Tilly had seen the post on Facebook but I was too scared to check my messages. I wanted to believe that she would know it wasn’t me. Only who could blame her if she did? She wasn’t with me, so she didn’t know what was happening, I desperately wanted to tell her. But that meant looking at my phone, and I just couldn’t bring myself to pick it up. I felt like I was caught in a whirlwind. Things were spiralling out of control and I didn’t know what to do. My head throbbed.
‘If your PC has a RAT, then the hacker can access it anytime they want. Cyber-criminals use RATs to steal passwords and bank account details. They can capture your keystrokes, or buy things on your eBay account – anything they like. And they’re really tough to remove. The hackers make them hard to spot.’
I thought about Alfie’s words for a moment. Something was niggling me, but I didn’t know what. ‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘Are you saying that some hacker – like an actual person – can control my computer – from elsewhere?’
Alfie nodded. ‘That’s impossible,’ I replied. ‘I’d know, wouldn’t I?’
‘No,’ said Alfie. ‘You wouldn’t have any idea. Maybe if you saw the webcam light come on – something like that . . .’
Kane and I glanced at each other.
‘They can control your webcam?’ Kane asked, his eyes wide.
‘Turn it on, record – anything,’ said Alfie. ‘Depends on how good the hacker is. But with the right RAT. – they can take over your PC—’
‘Shit!’ I shouted. The nagging in my head grew stronger – clearer.
‘What?’ Alfie asked.
‘I don’t have a webcam,’ I explained. ‘But someone posted me one.’
‘Posted you a webcam?’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘This lad, Benedict, that I’ve been messaging – from New York . . .’
My phone buzzed several times more. The most recent message was from Danny, so I looked at it.
Why did you do that? What’s Molly ever done to you? Thought you were better than this!
I groaned and held it out for Kane to see. He screwed up his face. ‘What does Danny care about Molly?’ he asked. ‘We ain’t exactly too nice about her, are we?’
‘He doesn’t know the truth, Kane,’ I replied. ‘He’s just defending her, that’s all.’
‘I don’t know her,’ he said. ‘Although I seen plenty of her online . . .’
That was when it clicked.
‘Max!’ I said excitedly.
‘Huh?’ both brothers replied.
I tried to get my thoughts in order. ‘Just give me a second,’ I said. There was a link – I was sure of it. Between Max, Amy and what was happening to me . . .
‘Max had that woman friend online, right?’ I began.
‘Yeah,’ said Kane. ‘Charlotte.’
Alfie scratched his head. ‘Who’s Charlotte?’ he asked. ‘And what are you talking about?’
‘Wait!’ I ordered.
Alfie scowled and looked into his empty mug. Then he pulled a Snickers bar from his briefcase and began to chomp on it. ‘What?’ he asked, when Kane shook his head. ‘Man gets hungry, bruv, even when things are serious . . .’
‘Please,’ I said, ‘let me finish. It’s important.’
Alfie tried to chew quietly.
‘Max had this woman,’ I continued, ‘but he never saw her – right?’
‘Just chatted online,’ agreed Kane. ‘She said her webcam was bust.’
‘But someone recorded Max’s webcam sessions . . .’
Kane began to chew his bottom lip slightly, nodding as he did so. ‘We never believed Max would have posted that video,’ he said.
‘Exactly. Max must have been hacked, because he wouldn’t have recorded the webcam sessions. Not doing that. And Charlotte wasn’t on the video – it only showed Max . . .’
‘Because Charlotte wasn’t real,’ Kane replied, catching on. ‘Charlotte was a fake – she must be the hacker . . .’
‘Exactly what I’m thinking,’ I told him. ‘And now someone has hacked my computer too.’
‘That video link from Amy – you said Tilly and Max saw it too?’ said Kane.
‘Yeah – all three of us. I think Molly might have commented too.’
‘So you all must have downloaded the software thing,’ he added. ‘To open the file . . .’
My memory flashed up a mental image from my Facebook page. A throwaway line. The thought of being right scared the hell out of me . . .
‘What if it’s not a coincidence?’ asked Kane.
‘It can’t be,’ I replied. ‘So the question is – who’s my hacker?’
Kane shrugged as I began to feel nauseous again. Could I be right? I thought hard but there was no other explanation. The realization left me cold . . .
‘It’s Benedict,’ I revealed. ‘The lad from New York . . .’
Kane’s expression started to change. The same awful comprehension dawned. ‘Of course!’ he shouted. ‘The webcam he sent.’
‘There’s something else too,’ I said. I grabbed my mouse, entering my Facebook messages. I scrolled back, finally resting on the line in question. ‘I told you Benedict got angry when I didn’t reply,’ I said. ‘You know – after Max died? Anyway, we had an argument and he slated Max . . .’ I pointed at the screen and Kane leaned across me to read.
‘There,’ I said.
Kane studied the line. ‘Had webcam sessions with some woman he didn’t even know.’
I tapped on the word ‘woman’.
‘How did he know about Charlotte?’ I asked.
‘Because he read about her?’ offered Kane. I could see that he was trying to work it all out.
I shook my head. ‘That’s just it,’ I said. ‘No one reported Charlotte because the police haven’t revealed her existence. They asked us not to mention her – remember?’
The light that dawned in Kane’s eyes could have illuminated the entire universe. ‘The only people who know about Charlotte,’ I added, ‘are you, me, Tilly and the police.’
‘And the hacker!’ said Kane.
‘Exactly,’ I agreed. ‘We didn’t tell Benedict, the police didn’t tell him so . . .’
‘Benedict is the hacker!’ Kane said, completing my train of thought.
‘I can’t see any other way,’ I told him, feeling bile climb up my food pipe.
‘You OK?’ asked Kane. ‘You’ve gone pale.’
I ran to the bathroom and puked my guts out . . .
The OTHER wears a clown mask. He carries the drugged girl through a deserted spinney. The Spider films his every step. They are south of Leicester, next to the Grand Union Canal. The spinney stretches along the southern edge of the waterway. It is perhaps two hundred metres wide and half as deep. Secluded enough to provide cover. Accessible enough for the girl to be found. Eventually . . .
The Spider’s mind works quickly. It sorts through tactics, creating new threads and strengthening his web. The Spider is planning for every eventuality. He leaves no mental stone unturned. He cannot be caught. He is a survivor and nothing can stop him.
They find the pre-selected tree, marked with blue chalk. The Spider waits, as the OTHER finishes his task. The girl is petite, borderline skinny. She has dark hair and olive skin. Her beauty lies hidden beneath a layer of makeup. The Spider wonders what she might have become. The OTHER places climbing rope round her pretty neck and knots the noose. He throws the excess over the thickest, lowest branch.
‘Are you ready?’ the Spider asks. The camera remains in his hands, silently recording every second.
‘Yes,’ the OTHER replies.
‘Are you excited?’
The OTHER nods, the adrenalin rush visible in his features. ‘I never dreamed it could be so easy,’ he replies. ‘The jump from fantasy to reality.’
‘I told you,’ the Spider says. ‘I said I would guide you. I have . . .’
‘We should hurry.’
‘Yes, we should,’ the Spider replies. He longs to smile but maintains his discipline.
The OTHER takes hold of the slack. Using his weight, he pulls the rope tight. The girl is raised skywards, her body tensing. She awakens. Just long enough to realize her fate. To choke on her own screams. The OTHER wraps the rope around the trunk. Ties it off.
The girl’s legs wriggle a while. Then she is gone.
As they leave, the Spider drops something.
The OTHER walks on ahead, towards his BMW.
As the ring nestles amongst the weeds, the Spider allows himself a surreptitious grin . . .
28
It wasn’t me.
I wasn’t even on Facebook when it was posted.
No – Kane was with me – ask him!
I told you – I didn’t do it.
Why would I do that???
Those were just some of the replies I grew sick of sending over the next six hours. They only stopped when I turned my phone off – upset, tearful and tired. I wondered if Max had felt the same way. If the endless comments and texts had pushed him too far. Only, I couldn’t imagine that they had. Even with all the messages bombarding me, I wasn’t remotely suicidal – just angry and troubled.
I sat on my bed, praying that my mum wouldn’t hassle me. I’d been quiet during dinner, using a headache as my excuse. Mum had seemed unconvinced, but she didn’t push it, thank God. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, not even Mum – not yet. I just wanted to sit and stare, and wonder why my world had turned to utter shit.
The brothers left soon after I puked. I thought about Alfie’s offer to rid my computer of the RAT, and how I’d told him not to.
‘If you remove the virus, we won’t know what Benedict does next,’ I had replied, causing Alfie to raise an eyebrow.
‘Lily’s right, bro,’ Kane had said. ‘We need to see what else he will do.’
‘And if the virus is still there,’ I added, ‘then we can show the police too.’
Alfie went out to the car but Kane stayed behind for a moment. He put his arms around me and told me that I was brave.
‘How?’ I asked, staring into his beautiful face.
‘If we’re right, this person – whatever he’s called – is dangerous. You’re standing up to him.’
‘I’m just thinking about what comes next,’ I replied. ‘I’m about as brave as a mouse hiding under a floorboard.’
Kane shook his head. ‘No,’ he replied. ‘I used to think you were a mouse, but you’re not. You’re much more than that.’
He wanted to stay, but I felt like I needed to be alone for a while. I said I’d see him in the morning. He smiled and reassured me with a big hug. As he let go, I leaned in to him, and my lips almost brushed against his. Then, panicking, I pulled back.
‘Er . . . sorry about that,’ I said.
‘Don’t be,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
We had no concrete proof that Benedict had done anything. Was Benedict even his real name? Don’t get me wrong – I knew he was the hacker – it made perfect sense in my head. But could we go to DC Evans with it? We were accusing some lad I’d only ever talked to online of being a hacker, a troll, and of having a hand in Max’s death. Thing is, we didn’t have a choice. We would have to talk to the police eventually. It was the right thing to do.
I’d have to tell Mum too, and the thought made me nervous. I knew she would freak out and demand to know why I hadn’t spoken up sooner. I didn’t know how to tell her, either. If we could get out of it without telling my mum, I’d rather we did that. It was going to be unlikely, though. No, that’s not the right word. It was going to be impossible.
Once I heard Mum go to bed, I logged into Facebook. I don’t know exactly why I did, but the frustration and anger were eating at me. I also had Kane’s words ringing in my head – how I was brave and not the girl he’d thought I was – and that made me feel stronger inside. Strong enough to confront things.
‘My’ bogus post had over one hundred shares, and the comment count was in treble figures too. I searched, but there was nothing from Tilly. In the top left corner, I had messages. I clicked the icon, saw the names Manisha, Danny and Benedict, and ignored all but the last.
Benedict’s message brought back the taste of bile.
Hey pretty lady – you chilled out yet?
I stared at it for ages, rubbing at my face and trying not to shake. I was more relieved than ever that I hadn’t connected the webcam. He was the worst kind of stalker – one who masqueraded as something else and got under my skin. A stalker I didn’t know about, and could not have spotted. My paranoia increased as the night wore on. I was a troll now, harassing Molly Cooper. A sick bitch urging people to kill themselves. Why would anyone believe me? How would I face everyone at school? How could I look Molly in the eye? Or anyone else, for that matter . . .
No reply . . . guess you’re sleeping. Maybe we could start afresh???
When the second message flashed up, I wanted to scream. I should have stayed calm. I should have thought through my reaction. Only I didn’t. I wanted to wind him up. Get him to admit what he was, and what he had done.
I’m wide awake Benedict or whatever your name is . . .
Even though I was terrified, I wasn’t going to let him sense it. I was going to protect my feelings.
She lives . . .
Aren’t you going to ask me?
About what, Lily?
The webcam? More slutty pictures?
Oh.
Is that it, you prick?
I’m not sure I like your tone.
I don’t care what you think.
Explain?
I took a deep breath and fought back the shakes. No way was he making me cower in fear.
I know about you, Benedict – God – why am I using that name! You’re not called that, are you?
Really? So who am I?
I dunno – try Charlotte maybe?
I was messing with a lunatic, I knew. But I sensed a change in myself. Kane had been right – something was making me braver, more determined. It wasn’t a surprise either – not after everything that had happened. I had been pushed too far, I guess. When nothing came back for about five minutes I tired of waiting, and gave him a nudge.
That scare you, did it, Benny?
It seems the pretence is at an end.
You admitting to it?
I don’t know what you’re on about.
Who are you?
Whatever you want me to be. To you I’m Benedict – the charming New Yorker – who is inexplicably attracted to an overweight, distinctly average British girl from some no-hope town. Sound about right?
I shuddered at his reply. He’d just stuck a knife into all of my insecurities and twisted it until I screamed inside.
But I’d let him in. I’d shown him all of my deepest fears, and that was the worst feeling of all. I felt like captured prey. Like I was trapped inside a web of darkness that he had spun all around me.
I swallowed hard and tried to hold my nerve.
And what about Max – what were you to him?
Max who?
Don’t play games with me!!!
Oh – and what will you do?
I’ll go to the police.
Really? What will you say?
I’ll show them these messages . . .
But how will you log back in?
I winced. What did he mean?
What?
To Facebook, Lily? How will you access your account?
I don’t understand.
I’ll just change the password.
