Blood Ransom

Award-winning books from Sophie McKenzie

GIRL, MISSING

Winner Richard and Judy Best Kids’ Books 2007, 12+

Winner of the Red House Children’s Book Award 2007, 12+

Winner of the Manchester Children’s Book Award 2008

Winner of the Bolton Children’s Book Award 2007

Winner of the Grampian Children’s Book Award 2008

Winner of the John Lewis Solihull Book Award 2008

Winner of the Lewisham Children’s Book Award 2008–9

Winner of the 2008 Sakura Medal

BLOOD TIES

Overall winner of the Red House Children’s

Book Award 2009

Winner of the North East Teenage Book Award 2010

Winner of the Leeds Book Award 2009, age 11–14 category

Winner of the Spellbinding Award 2009

Winner of the Lancashire Children’s Book Award 2009

Winner of the Portsmouth Book Award 2009

(Longer Novel section)

Winner of the Staffordshire Children’s Book Award 2009

Winner of the Southern Schools Book Award 2010

Winner of the RED Book Award 2010

Winner of the Warwickshire Book Award 2010

Winner of the Grampian Children’s Book Award

SIX STEPS TO A GIRL

Winner of the Manchester Children’s Book Award 2009

THE SET-UP

Winner of the North East Book Award (yrs 7 + 8)

Winner of the Portsmouth Book Award 2010 (Longer Novel section)

With thanks to Lou and Lily Kuenzler

First published in Great Britain in 2010 by
Simon and Schuster UK Ltd
A CBS COMPANY

Copyright © 2010 Sophie McKenzie

This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.
No reproduction without permission.
All rights reserved.

The right of Sophie McKenzie to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Design and Patents
Act, 1988.

Simon & Schuster UK Ltd
1st Floor
222 Gray’s Inn Road
London WC1X 8HB

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN: 978-1-84738-763-9
eBook ISBN: 978-1-84738-764-6

Typeset by M Rules
Printed in the UK by CPI Cox & Wyman, Reading, Berkshire RG1 8EX

www.simonandschuster.co.uk
www.sophiemckenziebooks.com

For Ruth, Mark, Max, Freddie and Louisa Goodman

Nine months ago, Theo and Rachel discovered they were the world’s first human clones. Captured by Elijah Lazio, the genius geneticist who cloned
them, Theo learned not only that he was a clone of Elijah himself, but that the evil geneticist was planning to murder him to steal his heart, a perfect genetic match for his own failing
organ.

Theo and Rachel managed to escape from Elijah, but were later separated and sent to new locations with their families. They are now in hiding from both
Elijah and the Righteous Army against Genetic Engineering (RAGE) – an extremist group prepared to go to any lengths to destroy all the evidence of Elijah’s cloning experiments,
including the clones themselves . . .

Part One

1

It was a Saturday afternoon in early July and I was looking forward to the highlight of my week – the hour or so when Theo and I met online and everything else dropped
away.

I’d just been to a martial arts display at the old scout hall past the docks. Not the sort of thing that happens often in Roslinnon – or the sort of thing I go to on an average
Saturday – but I’d really enjoyed the moves in the show, recognising quite a few of the basic techniques from the self-defence lessons I’d been having.

Most of the audience was male and much older than me. I’d caught a couple of guys staring at me during the interval and, what with that and the way the hall stank like the boys’
changing room at school, it was a relief to be heading outside.

As I left the scout hall, I saw the two men who’d been staring at me earlier standing on the pavement. They were watching everybody leave. For a second I wondered if they were looking for
me . . . waiting for me. Then I shook myself – told myself not to be paranoid.

It was drizzling with rain, so I pulled my hood up and headed for the internet café on the high street where I was going to message Theo. Rather than walk past the two men, I decided to
take a slightly longer way round – nothing major, just a couple of extra streets, but it would bring me out at the top of the high street: a busy road where I knew I’d feel safe.

As I started walking, the rain got heavier. I sighed.

When the British government and the FBI had picked the port town of Roslinnon in Scotland as the location for my new life, they obviously hadn’t known it was officially the rainiest place
in the British Isles – not to mention a rubbish place to be young. Or at least I hoped they hadn’t. Sometimes it felt like I was being punished for who I was.

Who I
am
. A clone of my dead sister.

Theo’s a clone too. That’s why we’d been hidden away and given new identities. Because there were people determined to find us – and kill us.

I checked the time. Four forty-five p.m. I had quarter of an hour before I was due online and, even going the long way round, it was only going to take a few minutes to reach the internet
café. I decided to shelter from the rain.

Huddled in a doorway, I felt for the silver chain round my neck. The chain’s special . . . my way of feeling closer to Theo. I thought about what I was going to tell him this week. It was
nine months since we’d seen each other, and yet our online conversations were more real to me now than my everyday life. Nobody knew that I was still in touch with Theo – I hadn’t
told a single person: not the agent who was our contact under the government protection programme; not Mum and Dad; not even the counsellor I’d been given to help me ‘adjust’ to
my new life.

The government officials all thought we’d be safer if we didn’t make contact with each other. There’s this organisation called RAGE – the Righteous Army against Genetic
Engineering. They don’t think genetic copies of human beings – clones – should be allowed to exist. They think they’re immoral.
We’re
immoral. Then
there’s Elijah – the man who cloned us. He reckons he ‘owns’ us – that he’s entitled to do what he likes with us.

The threat was real, so Theo and I didn’t take unnecessary risks when we talked. I mean, I didn’t even know exactly where Theo lived and I never asked

Across the street I caught sight of a girl from school and waved. Mhairi’s sort of a friend, though we’re not really close. I’m not that close to anyone at Roslinnon Academy,
to be honest. It’s better that way . . . you never know who you can trust.

Mhairi waved back at me, then pointed to the pale, anxious, plump woman beside her and made a face.

I nodded to show I understood. Mhairi’s mum was a total nightmare . . . nearly as bad as mine. Still, at least Mhairi didn’t have to put up with her mum berating her for not wanting
to learn golf, or going on and on about how common everyone in Roslinnon was.

Emerging from my shelter, I walked on. I didn’t know this area of town that well but from what people said it was kind of rough. The rain was pounding down now – and this was July.
It was supposed to be summer! I tugged my hood further round my face and bent my head. The pavement was a dirty grey – shining in the rain.

I trudged into an alley, trying to avoid the puddles. Suddenly a large pair of Timberland boots appeared in front of me. I looked up. One of the men who’d been staring at me during the
martial arts show – early twenties, with close-cropped red hair and a smashed-in nose – was blocking my way out of the alley.

‘Hello, hen,’ he said, a nasty smile creeping around his mouth.

‘Hi.’ I tried to step past him, but he put out his arm. My throat tightened.

‘I saw you at the martial arts display just now,’ he said. ‘I was impressed. There’s not many pretty girls go places like that, eh?’

Heart beating fast, I turned away.

The other man from the show, the one with dark, shaggy hair, was right behind me.

I was trapped in the alley.

‘Hey, McRae,’ the dark-haired guy sniggered. ‘Shall we see if this wee girl is up for some action?’

‘Get lost,’ I said, but I could feel myself beginning to shake.

Both men moved closer. I clenched my fists and pressed my feet into the ground, breathing deep into my guts to calm myself, like Lewis had taught me when we were preparing to rescue Theo last
year.

‘Come on now, hen,’ the dark-haired guy cooed in a silly voice. ‘We just want you to show us what you’ve got.’

The first man – McRae – laughed. ‘Aye.’ He reached out for my arm, pulling me round to face him.

Something snapped inside me.

‘Piss off.’ I stared at McRae – right into his mean little eyes – then strode past him.

He grabbed me. Pulled me back.

I fisted my hand and punched, putting my whole weight behind the throw. The blow landed on McRae’s shoulder, sending him reeling, doubled over with pain and shock.

I glared at the other man. His mouth fell open. I turned and sped away, out of the alley. I raced on, going over the route to the high street in my head. Left. Left. Then a long stretch before
the right turn onto the high street. I’d come out further up from the internet café than I’d been planning – but who cared.

The sound of pounding feet echoed behind me. I glanced over my shoulder.

Damn.
The two men were hot on my tail – vicious looks on their faces.

I ran faster. Took my two left turns. I was holding them off – but not getting away.

Almost at the high street now, I pushed myself on. The men were so close behind me I could hear them breathing as they ran. For a sick second I wondered if they were RAGE operatives, sent after
me on purpose.

I darted down one final short road, then onto the high street. I raced into the first shop I came to – a charity clothes place. I ducked behind a large rail of overcoats. They smelled of
dead men’s sweat.

I glanced over the top of the rail. The two men had stopped outside the shop but they weren’t looking inside. They were laughing, like hassling me had been the best game ever.

Pigs.

As I watched, they sauntered off, swaggering down the street like they owned it. I shook my head. Well, at least they were just stupid men, not people from RAGE.

It was a few minutes to five now . . . nearly time to speak to Theo. The internet café was just up the road. I moved away from the rail of overcoats, tugged my hood off my face and headed
towards the door. Outside, a boy in a wheelchair propelled himself past the window.

I froze.