My whole body shook and my breath just seemed to keep on going in and in. I stared at the text, the words burning themselves into my brain.
Who had sent it?
The message came up as blocked.
I let my breath out in a long, shaky sigh as Ketty and Ed burst into the room. Ketty was laughing. I jumped up, my face flooding red. The laugh died in Ketty’s mouth.
‘What’s the matter?’ she said.
‘Nothing.’
Ed stared at me. Was he trying to catch my eye and mind-read me?
‘Don’t even freakin’ think about it, Ed,’ I snapped.
Ed raised his eyebrows. ‘What?’ he said innocently.
‘That freaky mental thing you do,’ I said.
‘Jesus, Dylan.’ Ketty glared at me. ‘What’s your problem?’
I almost blurted it out. But I was still in too much shock from the text to be able to talk about it.
‘Nothing,’ I muttered. ‘What are you doing back here?’
‘Our parents wanted to see where we were staying,’ Ketty said.
Ed glanced at Mom’s old Tiffany diary lying on the carpet at my feet. ‘Why are you looking at such an old diary?’
I shook my head.
‘Oh, it’s your mum’s diary, isn’t it?’ Ketty clapped her hand over her mouth. ‘Oh, Dylan, I’m sorry.’
I glanced at her stricken face. Jeez, she felt sorry for me because I didn’t have a mom and dad to take me out. The thought made me bristle.
‘Whatever,’ I said. ‘It’s no big deal.’
As I spoke, I remembered my earlier idea.
I took a deep breath. At least my body had stopped shaking.
‘I was just looking at some of my dad’s old stuff,’ I said. ‘You don’t happen to know where the Hub was?’
‘The what?’ Ketty wrinkled her nose.
‘It’s where the original Medusa Project was based,’ I said.
‘Central London somewhere,’ Ed said.
We both stared at him.
‘Geri told us about it ages ago,’ Ed went on. ‘The Hub was set up by the government to look into all sorts of unexplained phenomena. There were three teams – Geri headed up the one looking into psychic activity. Remember? Her code name was Medusa, that’s why, when she found William Fox and backed his research, they called it the Medusa Project. The Hub was where all three teams were based.’
‘Geri never told me all that,’ I said.
‘Nor me,’ Ketty added.
‘Oh.’ Ed made a face. ‘Maybe I mind-read it, then. Geri got me to mind-read her a lot a few weeks ago . . .’ He turned to Ketty. ‘. . . While you went off to find your brother, remember?’
Ketty nodded. ‘Why d’you want to know where the Hub was, Dylan?’
‘No reason,’ I said. I didn’t want to explain. After all, if it was Ed’s father who’d killed my dad, then I didn’t want him or Ketty to work out what I was doing.
A moment later Nico turned up saying that their families were asking for them, so Ketty and Ed followed him downstairs. I lay on my bed.
What was I doing? Was I still going to go to this Hub building, check out the records of my dad’s meeting with the guy in charge and find out who my dad suspected of being after him? Even after that vicious text I’d been sent?
My mind went over it again. Stop looking or u die.
I shivered. I had to go. I couldn’t rest until I found out what, exactly, had happened to my dad.
Downstairs, Alex called out my name. I ignored her, my mind intent on how to find out the exact location of this ‘Hub’ without involving Ed or Ketty or Nico any further.
Another yell. Irritated, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and went downstairs. They were all there, standing in the hallway as I walked down.
Ketty was holding hands with Nico, her parents on her other side. Ed and his dad were next to them. All six looked up as I approached. Then Ed’s mum broke off her conversation with Jez and Alex to turn and face me, too. I glanced along the row to the end, where Geri and Uncle Fergus were talking in low voices.
I looked back at Ed’s dad. He was thick-set and square-jawed and, unlike Ketty’s dad, looked extremely uncomfortable in his suit. Could he really have murdered my father?
Everyone stared at me.
‘What’re you looking at?’ I said.
Geri stepped forward. ‘You look nice, Dylan, dear.’
I glanced sideways, to the mirror that hung at the bottom of the stairs.
I guess I did look good – I was wearing a green dress that scooped and flowed over my baby. No make-up or shoes, but I had on Mom’s white-gold wedding ring, as usual, plus her silver bangles and long earrings from the market that picked out the tiny sequins in the bodice of the dress.
The group around Nico and Ketty were all still staring at me. I glanced at them sharply. Had they been talking about me?
Without thinking, I looked Ed in the eye, inviting him to communicate.
Whoosh. I felt him surge into my mind.
What were they saying about me? I demanded in thought-speak.
Nothing, Ed thought-spoke.
It suddenly struck me that I didn’t want Ed anywhere near any of my thoughts.
Get out of my freakin’ head.
Ed broke the connection.
I looked around, furious and humiliated, and hoping no one had noticed that little exchange. Ketty had, for sure. I could see her out of the corner of my eye, watching me warily.
Suddenly I felt overwhelmed. Tears threatened to well up for no damn reason. I forced them down and fixed my gaze on Uncle Fergus. Of all the people in the room, he was the one least likely to have hurt my dad.
‘So how d’you like our shack in the woods, Uncle?’ I said.
The words came out more harshly than I meant. Uncle Fergus looked slightly startled. I reached the bottom step and went over to him. To my relief, the others resumed their chatter. Geri turned to say something to Jez and Fergus smiled at me. Jeez, he had that same wary look in his eye that Ketty had just a few seconds earlier.
Why did everyone always look at me like I was on the verge of attacking them?
‘This is a nice cottage,’ Fergus said. ‘How do you find it?’
‘By remembering where it is when I leave,’ I said with a grin.
Fergus looked startled. Again.
‘Er . . . I meant are you enjoying it here?’ he said.
Jeez. Why was this so difficult?
‘I know what you meant,’ I said. ‘It’s fine here. Awesome.’
There was an awkward silence. At least all the others were talking to each other, creating background noise. I twisted the ring on my finger.
‘I remember your mother wearing that,’ Fergus said softly.
I shot a look at him. He doesn’t look anything like my dad – darker hair and eyes and without that wild expression my dad has in every picture – but there’s something similar . . . something in the curve of his mouth . . . Maybe I didn’t need to go to the Hub. Maybe Fergus had the answers I needed.
I lowered my voice, not wanting Geri to hear my suspicions. ‘Did my dad . . . I mean, how was he before he died?’ I said.
Fergus frowned. ‘He loved you very much, Dylan. I don’t know what—’
‘Was he happy then, or worried about stuff?’
Fergus’s frown deepened. ‘Look, Dylan, I don’t know who’s been talking to you, but you have to remember that your dad wasn’t an easy man. He saw problems where there weren’t any and—’
‘You mean he was paranoid?’ I said. ‘Just before he died? Imagining people were after him?’
‘Er, well . . . yes, he did imagine that and it really wasn’t true . . .’ Fergus looked extremely uncomfortable.
He was obviously hating talking about this to me.
He cleared his throat. ‘We’ve just dropped in to see where you’re staying, but we’re going out for dinner soon. Would you like to join Nico and me?’ he asked.
> ‘No thanks.’ I pretended to yawn. ‘I’m totally whacked.’
A minute later the others started fussing and flapping over their coats. I went back upstairs. As I reached my room, I could feel Ed pushing into my head again.
What d’you want? I thought-spoke with a snarl. You know this remote mind-reading of yours is a total pain in the ass.
Just seeing if you’re okay, Dylan. There was a trepidation in Ed’s tone that was really irritating.
Why is everyone so freakin’ concerned about me all of a sudden? I thought-spoke. Why can’t you all just leave me alone?
I just remembered, he went on. That Hub place you were interested in was in Great Portland Street – an MoD building.
Oh, thanks, I thought-spoke back. Why are you telling me?
Because I know you want to go there . . . in secret.
Have you been sneaking into my head? I felt furious . . . then scared. What else had Ed seen? Did he know I suspected his father of killing mine?
I haven’t mind-read anything. And I’m not mind-reading you now. I’m holding back, just sitting on the edge of your thoughts waiting for you to communicate with me. So no, I don’t have a clue why you want to go to the Hub.
It’s still real rude of you to—
I’m only trying to help. Ed sounded angry now. I’d only seen him lose his temper once before – when we were in Africa and that girl he’d liked – Luz – had been killed. You know you might fool all the others with your tough-guy act. But I know you’re not really like that . . . That’s what I was looking for before, back in the woods after the training mission you screwed up . . . I did mind-read you, then. I wanted to see what was underneath . . . and I saw the truth – you’re just as vulnerable as everyone else. His thought-speech softened. So . . . so I don’t mind coming with you to the Hub if you like – neither do Ketty or Nico.
I hesitated, annoyed that he’d seen through me, but also aware he was offering to help.
Thanks, but no, I thought-spoke. But if you can get Ketty to cover for me tonight, when you get back from dinner, that would be great.
Sure .
And Ed, please don’t say anything to Geri.
I won’t.
He broke the connection.
I considered what Ed had just told me. If he was lying about the Hub address and knew what I suspected about his dad, he could be leading me into a trap. Jez was always telling us to have cover stories up our sleeves, so we could ‘lay a false trail’ if we needed to.
Maybe acting all helpful was Ed laying a false trail for me.
Maybe it was Ed who’d sent me the text warning me to ‘stop looking or die’.
No, I shook the thought out of my head. Ed was no liar and I certainly couldn’t imagine him sending me such a horrible message. Anyway, I was prepared to take the risk.
I sped up to my room, a plan forming in my head. Once everyone left for the hotel, I’d spend a bit of time chatting to Alex, who was staying behind with me, then pretend to go to bed early and call a taxi to pick me up from down the road. It was about twenty minutes to the nearest big station, then just over three hours to London by train. I reckoned I should arrive at the MoD building in Great Portland Street between 2 and 3 a.m.
That should give me plenty of time to find the records of my dad’s meeting with the boss of the Hub – which would hopefully reveal who my dad suspected of trying to kill him. A genuine lead. And, with any luck, I’d even be able to get back to the cottage before anyone realised I was missing.
I waited for a non-suspicious time to go to bed. The next few hours passed slowly, but at last I told Alex I was turning in. She nodded in agreement, saying that she was wiped out after all the families arriving that morning.
I went to my room, shoved a couple of pillows under the covers in case Alex popped her head round the door before Ketty got back, then jumped out the window. Jumping is sooo cool with my Medusa ability. I could hurl myself off a real high building and be fine thanks to the force field that protects me as I land.
Five hours later I was standing outside the MoD building in Great Portland Street. I’d already disabled the power to this section of the street. It’s a neat trick – Jez showed me one day during our daily training sessions. You just find the power supply to the street, then burn through the cables. Obviously, most people would electrocute themselves doing something like that, but my Medusa gift protects me.
It was dark now, with all the lights out, and the street around me was deserted. I’d barely passed anyone on the short walk from the station – though there was still lots of traffic around, considering it was the middle of the night.
I peered down at the basement windows. They were, to my relief, not barred. The fact that they were also thick, double-glazed and clearly locked was not a problem. I selected a pane of glass. Staring into the dark room on the other side of the window, I psyched myself up, then punched.
With a sharp smash, the window crashed into pieces. I tensed, listening for an alarm, but nothing. Good. Swiftly, I pulled out the biggest pieces of glass with my hands and scrambled inside.
Heart pounding, I crouched, listening for sounds, but no one was here. I smiled to myself. Nico might be able to open locks with a flick of his wrist, but being able to overcome fire, glass and electricity without getting so much as a scratch was even cooler.
At least, I thought so.
I let my eyes adjust to the darkness. I was in some kind of office area. A photocopier stood in one corner. There were desks and chairs everywhere, but no files on the shelves . . . no computers . . .
I headed out into the corridor, fishing for my flashlight.
There were three rooms off on the right . . . two on the left . . . I stopped, listening hard again. No sound. I was definitely alone.
I tried the first room on the right – a small kitchen. The next was a toilet.
The third was full of filing cabinets. An archive, if ever I saw one.
Resting the flashlight on the nearest cabinet, I took my art knife out of my bag and forced the drawers. Nothing remotely related to Medusa in either of the first two. I stopped, doubt creeping into my mind for the first time.
The original Medusa Project had been part of a top-secret operation into unexplained phenomena. How likely was it that the files – paper or digital – would be stored in an ordinary filing cabinet that anyone in the building could have easy access to?
As I thought this, there was a sound in the corridor. A tiny creak.
A footstep.
I froze, ducking back behind the nearest cabinet.
A bead of sweat trickled down the back of my neck. Holding my breath, I summoned my energy force field. I switched off the flashlight and the room was plunged into darkness.
Another footstep outside. Who was it? The police? Surely they’d have come in mob-handed with lights and noise?
Another footstep. I looked round. The edge of the cabinet wasn’t big enough to hide me fully. But, short of moving the furniture, there was nowhere else to hide.
Suddenly a light was shining in my eyes. I dropped to the ground, but the light followed me.
Heart pounding, I rolled away from it, snaking across the floor. I reached the only table and rose to a crouch.
The light moved away, illuminating the filing cabinet I’d prised open and the files on the floor. Someone was standing by the door, holding a flashlight. A boy in a hoodie. Tall, slim . . . From the little I could see of him, he didn’t look much older than I was.
‘You’ve made a right mess in here, Dylan,’ he said.
I gasped. How did he know my name?
‘You might as well stop pretending that table is hiding you,’ the boy went on. ‘Oh, and the police are on their way here – so you might want to think about leaving as well.’
I straightened up. ‘Who are you?’ I said.
‘Cool accent.’ I could hear the grin in the boy’s voice, though his face was in shadow. ‘I’m Harry. And I’ve got all t
he answers you need. But shall we leave full explanations for later? As I just told you, the police are on their way.’
As if to underline his point, the squeal of a police siren sounded in the distance.
Panic filled me. I raced to the door and turned left, intending to run along the corridor and climb back out the window I’d broken through earlier. Harry caught my arm.
‘Not that way,’ he hissed. ‘The police will see you. Follow me.’
He set off in the opposite direction. I hesitated for a moment. Outside I could hear a police radio crackle into life. Two voices spoke in low murmurs.
What choice did I have?
I turned and followed Harry.
7: Harry
Harry led me to the end of the corridor, then up some stairs to the ground floor. The building was empty and dark. We could hear the police officers in the basement below, stomping around. One of them was speaking into his radio mic, though I couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying.
‘Shouldn’t we be trying to leave?’ I whispered. ‘Those guys are gonna call for back-up.’
‘Don’t talk. Move,’ Harry ordered.
Torn between anxiety about getting caught and irritation at being ordered about, I bit my lip and kept walking. Harry led me up another flight of stairs to the first floor.
‘Where are we going?’ I hissed.
Harry stopped at the fire door at the end of the first-floor corridor. He stood for a second, listening for sounds downstairs. The policemen sounded more distant now, which presumably meant they were still in the basement. Harry pressed the fire-door bar down, then stood back.
‘Ladies first,’ he said. ‘But hurry.’
‘You are seriously winding me up,’ I muttered, scurrying through the door.
Harry chuckled as he followed me out onto the landing of a fire escape. The stairs led down to the ground floor. Harry pointed to a fence just below us on the left, with a dark alley on the other side.
‘Can you make that jump?’ he said, a slight mocking note to his voice.
‘Can you?’ I was over the fire escape and into the alley in an instant, landing lightly on the balls of my feet.
Harry thudded to the ground beside me a moment later.
‘Cool jumping,’ he said.
Hunted Page 4
