Ali Cross

by James Patterson

  I PUT THE address in my phone as soon as I heard Dad say it, so I wouldn’t forget.

  529 F Street Terrace.

  Then I went back to my room, changed out of my sweats super quick, and waited for Dad to come down.

  I sat just inside my door until I heard his feet on the stairs. He went from the attic to the second floor, and then straight down to the front door. I heard him putting on his coat. Then the door opened and closed behind him.

  Another second later, I was sneaking down the stairs, grabbing my own coat, and heading out the back of the house. If another robbery had gone down, that meant Gabe might still be out here on the street somewhere. It was the best chance I’d had for spotting him since he returned my laptop. I wasn’t going to pass this up.

  Meanwhile, it made sense to go the long way around. If Dad spotted me, I’d probably be grounded for life. I didn’t need to tail him, anyway. I knew where F Street Terrace was. Really, I just wanted to get a look at this crime scene before I started doing what I’d come outside to do.

  From behind our house, I walked down to Virginia Avenue, then around to 6th Street, up to G, and over to F Street Terrace. That gave Dad plenty of time to get there first. And even then, I hung on the corner in the dark, keeping out of sight.

  The house was maybe halfway up the street. A couple of cop cars were parked out front, where I could see the door was wide open. An evidence response van was just pulling up from the opposite direction, and my guess was that Dad had already gone inside.

  Not that it mattered. This was just my starting point, the one place I could assume Gabe had been tonight. So I pulled my hat out of my pocket and jammed it down on my head. Then I turned away and started walking.

  When I came to the next corner, I took a left. Then at the next corner, I took another left. And again at the next one. This was a thing I’d read about, for searching a neighborhood as efficiently as possible. Once I’d come all the way around the block, I kept going until I came to a new left turn I hadn’t already taken. And it went on like that, in a big spiral, always covering new ground.

  I was scanning the whole time, too, checking the fronts of houses, the side alleys, the street ahead of me, and the street behind. There was never any knowing where Gabe might be, so I tried to stay as sharp as possible.

  My best guess was that he had gone nocturnal, lying low during the day and coming out at night to do these jobs—the ones he’d been forced to do. First by Mr. Qualls, and now, from the sound of it, by his half-brother Ramon.

  Walking around the neighborhood by myself in the middle of the night like this was the most dangerous thing I’d done yet. But the weird part was, I didn’t care. I wasn’t even scared, although maybe I should have been.

  But nothing was as important as this. And that meant nothing was going to stop me from trying to put eyes on Gabe while I had the chance.

  THE FULL TRUTH is, I didn’t really expect to find Gabe. I knew it was a crazy long shot.

  So when it actually happened, you might say I was as surprised as I’ve ever been in my life.

  I was walking up 7th Street, about halfway up the block, when I spotted him. Or, at least, someone. It was a small shadow of a person, holding a white plastic garbage bag, and that was all the clue I needed. I could tell just from the size of that shadow that it was him. And as for the garbage bag, that was exactly how we’d gotten back our stuff on the night Gabe returned it.

  Gabe!

  His name was just about to come out of my mouth when something stopped me. The part of my brain that listened to Dad about being a good detective said, wait. Maybe it made more sense to see what he did, and where he went after that.

  I hung back again. I kept my eyes glued on his every move as he walked up the steps of a house in the middle of the block, carrying something heavy in that bag. It was like déjà vu, but from a different angle.

  When he got to the door, he looked up and down the street one more time. I ducked behind a tree, just in case, although it was pretty dark out there.

  By the time I was sneaking another look, Gabe was already ringing the bell. Then, just as fast, he dropped the bag, flew back down the stairs, and started running.

  I still didn’t want to yell his name, so I ran after him instead, keeping my distance. If he knew I was there and then managed to ditch me, for whatever reasons of his own, I’d be back to square one. But if I could figure out where he was going, that would put me a whole lot closer to solving this thing, once and for all.

  I hung back as far as I could, and marked the way Gabe turned at the bottom of the block. Then I sprinted to the corner and just caught sight of him turning again, this time onto 6th Street. There was only one thing down that way—the underpass that ran underneath the interstate.

  It made sense. There were plenty of places to hide out on the other side of the highway. And in fact, it was exactly the way I’d guessed he might have run on that night when he returned my laptop. I kept on tailing him, and kept my mouth shut for the time being. Because something told me wherever Gabe was headed right now, it wasn’t going to be very far away.

  I COULDN’T GET too close, but I couldn’t let him get too far away, either. Once Gabe walked into the dark of the underpass, I slipped in there behind him. Car noises overhead gave me some cover, but there were no streetlights now, either. It was easy not to be seen.

  At the far side, he kept going. There were a ton of construction sites on that side of the highway, and I wondered if maybe Gabe and Ramon were crashing in some half-finished building.

  But it wasn’t that. Less than a block later, he stopped at a chain-link fence and pulled a corner of it back from the post holding it up. Inside, there was a big four-story building, with a RE-STORE DEPOT sign on the side.

  It was all storage units, as far as I could tell. Was this where he’d been staying? It was weird, but not out of the question. In fact, it was starting to make sense.

  I watched Gabe cross the parking lot on the other side of the fence. Then I pulled back the same piece of chain link and squeezed through. Gabe was just disappearing around the corner of the building, so I ran as quietly as I could up to that corner and stopped again.

  I listened. At first there was nothing. Then just a small sound, like metal against metal.

  I decided to risk another look. And there he was, kneeling in front of one of the ground floor units. These were the big kind where people keep cars and trucks, with a garage door that rolls straight up. Gabe was unlocking a padlock at the bottom.

  A second later, he had the lock off and raised the door. It seemed really loud from where I was, but then again, nobody was around to hear it. The only other real noise was coming from the highway.

  As I moved around the corner, a light came on from inside Gabe’s unit. It spilled onto the concrete, and I could hear him moving around in there. So I could conclude no one else was in there, unless they were sitting in the dark.

  Just like that, I was out of reasons for hanging back. I’m not even sure why I was so nervous, but I guess it was time to find out, one way or another.

  I walked over to the door, which was only open about three feet. Then I ducked down, stepped inside, and stood up again.

  It was like a big garage in there. Or a tiny apartment. The place was jammed with stuff that looked like it had been taken from people’s houses. There were TVs, computers, a few bikes, and a bunch of different boxes all over the floor. They also had wire shelving units with smaller electronics, luggage, jewelry boxes, and I couldn’t even tell what else.

  Closer to the front, they had two sleeping bags on foam pads on the floor. Next to each one was a TV with its own PlayStation hooked up. And I guess they had power, too, because there was a mini fridge, a couple of space heaters, and some clip lights mounted on the wall.

  The weirdest part was, it looked a whole lot like the storage room Gabe had designed for his bunker in Outpost. Obviously, this one didn’t have a secret trap door down to a real ap
artment, but it was pretty clear where Gabe had gotten the inspiration for the rest. He’d probably been spending his days in that storage unit, waiting to go out at night, and playing two tons of Outpost in the meantime. It was like it all made sense, all at once.

  “Gabe?” I finally said.

  He yelled and spun around. When he saw me, his eyes popped and his jaw dropped open. I could tell he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Don’t be scared.”

  He stayed right where he was. I couldn’t even tell if he was glad to see me.

  “W-what are you doing here?” he stuttered.

  “Duh,” I said. “Looking for you. Did you get our messages?”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “Why didn’t you answer? You need to come home, Gabe. It’s safe, now.”

  “Nah,” he said. “It’s not. And you’ve gotta go. Right now.”

  “Hang on,” I said. He was walking toward me, looking like he was actually going to push me right out of there, but then he stopped again.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  He wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was looking behind me. And when I turned around, another guy was standing there. This dude was older, like maybe Jannie or Damon’s age, wearing jeans and a black Under Armour hoodie, with new Jordan Retro Fours on his feet.

  I didn’t recognize him, but I knew right away who it was. Ramon Qualls. And he was looking at me like I was just some trash that needed to be taken out.

  “WHAT DO YOU think you’re doing here?” Ramon asked. He rolled the door shut behind him and the sound of it clanging into the cement made me flinch.

  I was cornered, obviously. I just wasn’t sure how scared I needed to be. Gabe wouldn’t let Ramon do something really bad to me, would he?

  At the same time, this guy was nobody to mess with, I could tell. He was big like their father. And he was wearing a big backpack, too. Probably full of whatever he’d just taken from someone’s house.

  “You’re Ramon, right?” I said. “I’m not here to make trouble.”

  “I think you are,” Ramon said, and took a step toward me.

  “Bro, just keep cool,” Gabe said. “He’s not going to turn us in.”

  But Ramon kept coming. “Yeah, see, I don’t buy that,” he told me. “You’re the one Gabe was talking to that night, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah,” I admitted.

  “So you already know too much,” he said. “You’re also the cop’s kid.”

  I didn’t answer, but I didn’t have to. He knew.

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” Ramon told me. He took another step forward.

  I tried not to show how much I was shaking, but I also didn’t know what this guy might do to me. I’d been scared of Mr. Qualls, for sure, but I never thought he’d really hurt me. Not in a big way. But with Ramon? It felt different, like all bets were off. Especially since nobody even knew where I was. And he probably knew that.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I can just go. I won’t tell.”

  But Ramon was already on me. He twisted me around and pulled my arm up behind my back, then pushed me into the ground.

  “Ow! Get off!” I couldn’t help yelling out. I thought he was about to snap my elbow.

  “Ramon, get off him, man! Stop!” Gabe was yelling.

  I could feel Ramon behind me, but I couldn’t see him. My face was pressed into cold ground now, and the concrete was digging right into my cheek.

  Then I heard Ramon’s voice by my ear. “You don’t even know what kind of mistake you just made. Now we gotta clear everything out of here, and…” He pushed my face a little harder into the ground. “I ain’t happy about it.”

  I felt a punch in my side then, and the air rushed out of me.

  “Stop it!” Gabe yelled.

  “We’re going to need a truck,” Ramon said next, like it was some kind of business as usual.

  “Don’t worry,” Gabe told him. “It’s cool, man. It really is. He was just making sure I was all right. Ali won’t tell—”

  “I won’t!” I cried. “Just get off me!”

  When I struggled, he yanked my arm even harder. It really did feel like it was going to break. My eyes watered from the pain and I didn’t have any choice but to stay still.

  “Gabe, get outside,” Ramon said.

  “No!”

  “Gabe…” Ramon said. Now I felt something else against my neck. Something metal and cold, with an edge. “Don’t make this worse than it has to be. Now get outside before I start taking pieces off your friend here.”

  “Okay, okay!” I heard Gabe. “I’m going.” Then I heard the door roll open again and felt a rush of cold air.

  Finally, Ramon took his knee off my back. I whipped around and he was still standing over me. I could see the knife in his hand, too. And the look in his eyes. It reminded me of Mr. Qualls.

  “Give me your phone,” he said. “Now!”

  I didn’t have any choice. I handed it over.

  “We’ll be back,” he said. “And then you’re going to help us pack up.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked. “What are you doing?” I felt half out of my mind, and whatever Ramon saw on my face, he just laughed.

  “Calm down, little dude. I’m not going to kill you. We’re just going to pack up, go for a drive, and drop you off somewhere outside the city.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  “I guess we’ll both know when we get there,” Ramon said.

  “I’m sorry, Ali!” Gabe said. I couldn’t see him outside in the dark, but I could hear him. “I tried to warn you.”

  It was true. He had. I’d thought he was warning me about Mr. Qualls, but there was more to it than that. I could see that now.

  Ramon had backed up to the door, still holding his knife where I could see it. I wasn’t stupid enough to try anything, so I stayed put.

  “We’ll be back,” he said. “And trust me, little dude. You mess with any of our stuff—seriously, one scratch—and I will cut you up.”

  “He means it,” Gabe said. “Seriously, Ali. You’ll be okay. Just sit tight.”

  Then Ramon reached over, pulled an extension cord, and the lights went out, just before he rolled the door closed and the whole place went pitch black.

  “When are you coming back?” I yelled. But nobody answered. All I heard was the sound of Ramon clicking that padlock back into place and locking me inside.

  As soon as I heard that, I scrambled onto my feet and lurched toward the door. But it was no good. I bumped into something hard and went down again. In fact, I couldn’t see a single thing. Not even my hand in front of my face.

  Oh, no.

  No way.

  This wasn’t happening, I thought.

  It couldn’t be.

  Except, of course, it was.

  FOR A WHILE, I just yelled. Screamed my guts out. But something told me it wasn’t going to do any good, and Ramon knew that.

  I started to panic then. I thought my eyes would adjust, until I realized there was nothing to adjust to. No light was getting in there, and I couldn’t stop breathing too fast. I felt like I was blind.

  I didn’t know how to turn on the lights, either. I’d have to find that extension cord and the outlet, all the way on the other side of the room, behind stacks of boxes and other stuff.

  It seemed like a long, long time before anything happened at all. I couldn’t think straight, and I wasn’t coming up with any kind of solution, or idea. Without my phone, I really was stuck.

  I sat there and tried to think about everything I knew was right around me. Maybe something I could use to pry the door? Or some other way to get some light in there?

  I was sitting on Gabe’s sleeping bag now, and I tried to see it in my mind. What else was near me?

  I started groping around. I put my hand on the sleeping bag, and felt my way up to the pillow. Then the cardboard box he’d been using like a table. I knocked over a bunch of empty ca
ns.

  Then my hand landed on something hard, like another box. The TV. That’s what I was looking for. That, and Gabe’s PS4. I didn’t know how to turn on the TV, but I knew how to turn on the PlayStation.

  I got up on my knees now. Hopefully I had time to do this. They’d be gone for a while, almost for sure. I figured the TV and PS4 were far enough away from the extension cord Ramon pulled that they probably weren’t plugged into it. I felt around the back of the TV, searching with my fingers for the flat, rubbery HDMI cable I knew would be there. When I found it, I kept going, hand over hand, along the cable like a rope, until I got to the console I was looking for.

  The power button isn’t easy to find on a PS4, if you don’t know what you’re doing. Lucky for me, I did. My fingers ran along the front of the console until I felt the little vertical rectangular sensor I was looking for. Gabe mentioned once that he mastered his PS4 to his TV, and sure enough, when I touched the sensor, the TV fired up, too. The ghostly glow lit up the whole storage area.

  It was a huge relief to be able to see again, like taking a breath for the first time when your lungs are about to explode.

  Now I could look for the controller, which was back by Gabe’s sleeping bag. I snatched it up and started logging in as a guest right away. Then I put in my own username and password and went straight to Outpost.

  From there, I started leaving messages for everyone I could. I even looked up Detective Olayinka. He’d told me that his screen name was IOIO522, and I found him right away. He had a sweet avatar, too, all decked out in dark-blue body armor, with LED eyes that glowed yellow.

  But this was no time for avatars. I needed real people, and I left the same message for Cedric, Ruby, and Mateo, who were all probably asleep. If I was lucky, maybe Cedric would be up late.

  Help! This is Ali. I’m locked in Gabe and Ramon’s storage unit at a place called RE-STORE, near 6th and K by the highway. They’re gone and I don’t know where they are, but I need someone to come let me out. Is anyone there? I don’t have a phone. Please come ASAP!!!!! And call my dad, too!