‘Anybody who’s not serious about the game shouldn’t be on the team.’ Bethune’s bellow filled the gym. The members of the noticeably shrunken team looked down sheepishly at their shoes. Bethune was yelling at the wrong people. After all they’d come to training. But there were eight of them instead of seventeen. You couldn’t even make two starting teams with eight players, let alone think about substitutions. Colin hadn’t come of course, but Jerome was also missing. Curious.
‘What’s the matter with those losers? Are they all sick? Has everyone around here suddenly gone soft in the head?’ Nick hoped Bethune would be hoarse soon.
‘Since he’s always in such a foul mood lately, I may as well stay home next time too,’ he muttered and was rewarded with twenty-five push-ups.
On the way home Nick rang Colin twice, but there was no answer. Damn it.
Why was he so upset? Just because Colin was acting stupid? No, he decided after thinking it over. Stupid would have been okay. But by the look of it, Colin had cut Nick out of his life completely overnight. He at least owed Nick an explanation.
When he arrived home, Nick bolted into his room and flung himself into the wonky swivel chair at his desk. He booted up the computer and opened his email program.
From: Nick Dunmore
To: Colin Harris
Subject: You okay?
Hey dude! Are you sick? Is something wrong? Did I off end you or something? If so, I didn’t mean to. And by the way, what’s up between you and Dan? The guy is weird. I thought we both agreed about that . . . Are you going to be at school tomorrow? If there’s a problem, we should talk about it.
CU
Nick
He clicked Send, then opened his browser and entered the basketball club chat room. But no-one was there, so he surfed over to deviantART. To Emily. He looked to see whether she’d posted a new manga or a poem. She was incredibly gifted.
He found two new sketches, which he saved on his hard disk, and a short blog entry. He hesitated before reading it. He had to overcome an invisible barrier each time, because he knew it wasn’t meant for him. Emily had taken trouble to stay anonymous, but she had friends who talked.
He shook off the thought. Here, on this page, he was close to her.
Emily wrote in her blog that her head felt empty. She wished she could move to the country, away from the giant moloch that was London. Her words felt like stabs to Nick. It was unthinkable that Emily would leave his city and his life. He read the entry three times before he closed the page.
Another check for emails: not a word from Colin. No new tweets either, not for days now. Nick sighed, thumped the mouse down on the desk somewhat harder than necessary and shut down the machine.
Chemistry was a punishment from the gods. Nick pored over his book with increasing desperation and tried to understand the problem Mrs Ganter had saddled them with for this lesson. If only getting a C at the end of the year would do. But if he got less than a B he could forget it – and what he really needed was an A. Medical schools didn’t take Chemistry duds.
He looked up. Emily was sitting in front of him, with her dark plait falling down her back. It wasn’t one of those narrow elfin backs; you could tell she did swimming training. Her legs were long and muscular too, and . . . He shook his head as if to force his thoughts back to the right place. Damn it. How many moles were in 19 grams of CH4 again?
The bell rang all too soon for the end of the lesson. Nick was one of the last to hand in his work, and he was convinced that Mrs Ganter wouldn’t be pleased. Emily had already gone. Nick automatically looked around for her and spotted her a few metres down the corridor. She was talking to Rashid, whose enormous nose cast a beak-like shadow on the wall. Nick sauntered a few paces closer, and made as if to look for something in his schoolbag.
‘You’re not allowed to tell anyone, got it?’
Rashid was offering something to Emily – a flat package wrapped in newspaper. Square again. ‘It’s important. You’ll be amazed – it’s the coolest thing.’
The scepticism in Emily’s voice spoke volumes. ‘I don’t have time for silly stuff like that.’
Nick stood off to one side and studied the chess club notice board earnestly.
‘No time? Rubbish! Here, just try it!’
A sidelong glance revealed that Rashid was holding out his newspaper package to Emily, but she wasn’t taking it. She took a step backwards, shook her head and walked away. ‘Give it to someone else,’ she called over her shoulder to Rashid.
Yes, give it to me, Nick thought. What on earth was going on?
How come no-one was talking about these packages that were being passed round? And why the hell didn’t he have one yet? It wasn’t like him to be left out.
Nick watched Rashid, who had stuffed the package in his jacket pocket and was shuffling along the corridor. Now he was homing in on Brynne, who was saying goodbye to a friend. He started to speak to her, pulled the package out of his pocket –
‘What are you gazing at, dreamy?’ Someone slapped Nick hard on the back. Jamie. ‘How was the gruesome Chemistry test?’
‘Gruesome,’ Nick muttered.
A few people had stopped in the middle of the corridor, and were blocking Brynne and Rashid from sight. Nick went closer, but the transaction was already over. Rashid was walking away with his typical dragging gait, and Brynne had disappeared around the corner too.
‘Damn it,’ Nick swore.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Oh, something’s going on. The other day Colin passed something to Jerome and he was being all hush-hush about it. Rashid’s tried the same thing with Emily, but she told him to get lost, so he started chatting up Brynne.’ He ran his hand over his ponytail. ‘I missed the rest. I’d like to know what it’s about.’
‘CDs,’ Jamie said matter-of-factly. ‘Pirate copies of something, I’d say. Twice today I’ve seen someone dragging someone else into a corner and palming a CD off on them. It’s no big deal, is it?’
CDs – that would explain the format of Rashid’s parcel. A pirate copy going around – maybe banned music. Then it would hardly be surprising that Emily didn’t want to have anything to do with it. Yes, that was possible. The thought appeased Nick’s curiosity a bit, but . . . if it was a CD, why wasn’t anyone talking about it? The last time a banned film had done the rounds it had been the number one topic. All the people who’d seen it held forth with wild descriptions, and everyone else listened enviously.
This was different. As if it were a game of Chinese whispers, as if a secret password was going around. The insiders were keeping quiet, whispering, staying apart.
Nick was pensive as he made his way to his English class. The lesson that followed was pretty boring. He dwelt on his own thoughts, and a full twenty minutes passed before he noticed that not only was Colin missing today, but Jerome too.
Warm autumn light fell on Nick’s desk, turning the chaos of books, notepads and crumpled work sheets golden. The English essay he had been brooding over for the last half hour was only three sentences long; the margin, on the other hand, was strewn with doodled lightning, curls and wavy lines. Damn, he just couldn’t concentrate. His thoughts kept straying.
In the kitchen he heard Mum clattering around and changing the radio station. Whitney Houston was singing I Will Always Love You. Really! What had he done to deserve that?
He chucked his pen on the desk, jumped up and slammed the door. It couldn’t go on like this – he couldn’t get these CDs out of his head. How come he still didn’t have one? And how come no-one was telling him anything about them? He tried ringing Colin yet again, but there was still no answer – what a surprise. Nick left a few rude words on his voicemail, and scrolled down till he got to Jerome’s number. It rang once, twice, three times, and then the call was disconnected.
Damn it all. Nick took a deep breath. This was ridiculous. He was all set to hurl his phone into his backpack, but stoppe
d suddenly. An idea was teasing him, light as a feather. He had Emily’s number saved too.
Before he could think of too many reasons why he shouldn’t do it, he had already dialled. Again he heard the phone ring once, twice —
‘Hello?’
‘Emily? Um, it’s me, Nick. I wanted to ask you something . . . It’s about today . . . at school . . .’ He shut his eyes tight, took a breath.
‘About the Chemistry test?’
‘No. Uuuh . . . I happened to see Rashid trying to give you something. Can you tell me what it was?’
It was a few seconds before Emily answered. ‘Why?’
‘Well, I . . . it’s because . . . A few people have been acting strange lately. Lots of people have been away from school, too. Have you noticed?’ Amazing – he was finally managing to speak in whole sentences. ‘And I think it has something to do with these things that have been going around . . . That’s why . . . you know . . . I’d like to find out what it’s all about.’
‘I don’t know either.’
‘Didn’t Rashid tell you anything about it?’
‘No, he was interrogating me. He wanted to know stuff about my family that’s none of his business – whether they give me lots of freedom, that sort of thing.’ She gave a short, joyless laugh. ‘And whether I’ve got my own computer.’
‘Aha.’ Nick was trying in vain to make sense of this information. ‘Did he say why you needed the computer?’
‘No. He just said he was going to give me something incredibly awesome – better than anything I’d ever seen before, and that I had to look at it alone.’ Emily’s tone of voice made it obvious what she thought of this. ‘He was pretty pushy and frantic. But of course you saw that yourself.’
The last sentence sounded snippy. Nick could feel himself going red. ‘Yes, I did.’ There was a pause.
‘What do you think it is?’ Emily asked finally.
‘No idea. I’ll ask Colin when he comes back to school. Or . . . I mean, maybe you have a better idea?’ There was silence down the phone line.
Then Emily said, ‘No. To be honest, I hadn’t thought that much about it.’
Before his next sentence Nick took a deep breath. ‘Would you like to know if I find out something? Only if it’s interesting, obviously.’ ‘Yes, sure,’ Emily said. ‘Of course. But I have to go now, I have stuff to do.’
The conversation made Nick’s day. Colin could go and get stuffed. He had made a connection with Emily, and he had an excuse for getting in touch with her again soon. As soon as he knew more.
Colin was back at school. He leaned against his locker as if nothing had happened, flashed Nick a grin and tossed his dreadlocks over his shoulder. ‘I had the worst sore throat of my life,’ he said, and gestured at his scarf. ‘Couldn’t even talk on the phone, I was totally hoarse.’
Nick tried to figure out from Colin’s face whether he was lying, but he couldn’t. ‘Bethune went ballistic. I’ve never seen him that mad,’ he said. ‘Why didn’t you tell him you were sick?’
‘Oh, I felt lousy. The old man shouldn’t go on about it.’
Nick chose his next words with care. ‘What you had must be incredibly infectious. The day before yesterday there were only eight of us. That’s an absolute all-time low.’
If Colin was surprised, he didn’t show it. ‘So? It can happen.’
‘Jerome was away too.’
Only the tiniest twitch of his eyelids betrayed Colin’s sudden interest. Nick dug deeper.
‘Speaking of Jerome, tell me, what was it you gave him recently?’
His answer came like a shot. ‘The new Linkin Park album. Sorry, I know I should copy it for you too. I’ll get it to you tomorrow, okay?’ And with that he slammed his locker door, shoved his Maths books under his arm and looked questioningly at Nick. ‘So, can we go?’
With a start, Nick shook off the daze Colin’s explanation had put him in. Linkin Park! Was he imagining all that conspiracy stuff? What if his imagination was playing tricks on him, and a wave of flu was the reason for the missing students? On closer consideration there weren’t that many. Nick did a quick headcount as he went into class just ahead of the bell. Girl Guide number two was missing, as well as Jerome, Helen and the quiet kid, Greg. The others were lolling about, half asleep, in their seats.
Okay, thought Nick. So I’ve been imagining it all. There’s no big secret – only Linkin Park. He grinned at himself, and turned to Colin to describe Bethune’s rant of the previous day. But Colin was staring intently at Dan, who was standing in his usual place by the window. Dan held up four fingers, half concealed by his belly. Colin raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement and stuck out three fingers.
Nick’s gaze darted back and forth between the two, but before he had a chance to ask Colin what was behind the hand signals, Mr Fornary entered the classroom. For an hour he bombarded them with such hideous Maths problems that Nick had no time to think about such basic things as three or four outstretched fingers.
CHAPTER 2
Some money and an unbelievably long shopping list were lying on the kitchen table. Mum was conducting a large-scale perming operation; it seemed autumn had awakened a desire for freshly curled hair among the women of London. Nick studied the list with a frown. Endless frozen pizza, plus lasagne, fish fingers and instant noodles. It didn’t look as though Mum was planning to do any cooking in the next little while. He sighed, grabbed three of the big shopping bags and set off for the supermarket. On the way he thought about Dan’s hand signal again, and Colin’s silent response to it. Was he seeing things? Jamie certainly thought so. ‘You’re bored, my boy,’ had been his diagnosis. ‘You need a hobby or a girlfriend. Should I fix you a date with Emily?’
Nick bagged a shopping trolley, shaking off thoughts of school. Jamie was right, it was better to worry about real problems. For example the question of how on earth he was supposed to lug home the twenty bottles of water on Mum’s shopping list.
When he arrived at school the next day, the air was buzzing with excitement. Lots more students were gathered in the entrance hall than usual. They were standing around in small groups, whispering, murmuring. Their conversations blended into a tapestry of sound; Nick couldn’t make out any individual words. Everyone’s attention was focussed on two policemen who were heading purposefully for the corridor leading to the principal’s office.
Nick spotted Jamie in a corner not far from the stairs, caught up in an intense conversation with Girl Guide Alex, Rashid and a boy whose name Nick couldn’t quite think of. Oh yes, his name was Adrian. He was thirteen and didn’t usually hang out with older students But Nick recognised him because his family story had done the rounds when he’d come to the school two years ago. . students. Apparently Adrian Adrian’s father had hanged himself.
‘Hey!’ Jamie beckoned Nick over with a sweeping gesture. ‘It’s all happening!’
‘What are the cops doing at school?’
Jamie showed his teeth. ‘There are criminals among us, no-good scoundrels and thieves. Nine computers have been stolen – brand new laptops. They’re checking the computer room for evidence.’
Adrian nodded. ‘It was actually locked,’ he put in shyly. ‘Mr Garth told the policeman that, I heard exac—’
‘Shut your trap, kid,’ Alex droned. His pimples were glowing – probably the excitement, Nick surmised.
He felt an urgent need to thump this idiot. He turned to Adrian so he didn’t have to look at Alex any more. ‘Did they break the door open?’
‘No, that’s the thing,’ he said eagerly. ‘Someone unlocked it. The key must have been stolen, but Mr Garth said that’s impossible; all three are where they belong. He even carries one of them around with him—’
‘Nick?’ A soft voice interrupted Adrian’s flood of words, and a hand with clear-varnished fingernails came to rest lightly on Nick’s shoulder. Emily, Nick thought for a split second, but corrected himself immediately. Emily didn’t wear three rings on each finger, and she
didn’t smell so . . . oriental.
He turned his head and looked into Brynne’s light blue eyes. Like puddles of water. ‘Nicky, can you . . . I mean, could we, just quickly – in private . . .’
Alex smirked and licked his lips, making Nick want to clench his fists.
‘Okay,’ he said to Brynne. ‘But only a few minutes.’
The irritated tone of his voice obviously didn’t concern her – even if it did she hid it well. She was pretty, admittedly, but basically she talked too much and he found her empty-headed. Now she was prancing along ahead of him, swaying her hips and steering him to the staircase that led down to the gym. There wasn’t a soul here at this time of day.
‘So, Nick,’ she whispered. ‘I’d like to give you something. ‘It’s incredibly awesome, honest.’ She reached into her bag, paused a moment, and drew her hand out again.
Nick was staring at the bag. He had an inkling what this was going to be about, and he almost smiled at Brynne.
‘But first I still need to ask you something.’ She pushed a strand of hair off her forehead, slowly and deliberately.
If you want to do yourself a favour, don’t ask me what I think of you.
‘Go for it.’
‘Have you got a computer? That’s important. In your room.’
Finally, this was it! ‘Yes, I have.’
She nodded her satisfaction.
‘Er, and do your parents go poking around in your stuff a lot?’
‘My parents aren’t weird.’
‘Oh. Good.’ She thought for a moment, her forehead creasing with the effort. ‘Hang on, there was something else. Exactly.’ She came another step closer and lifted her face to him. Her bubblegum breath and the harem perfume made a bizarre combination. ‘You’re not allowed to show it to anyone. Otherwise it won’t work. You have put it away right now, and don’t tell anyone that I gave it to you. Promise?’