December (7 page)

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Authors: Gabrielle Lord

BOOK: December
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‘We know,’ said Winter, ‘but it’s just too
dangerous
right now. You need to stay home … and keep an eye on your mum and Rafe. We need someone to make sure they’re OK. OK?’

‘Let’s go,’ said Boges to Gab. ‘I’ll walk you home.’

Back at the treehouse I charged up my phone and realised I had a couple of missed calls from Sharkey. Winter and I listened carefully to his voicemail message, hopeful for news on our trip.

‘Cal, it’s Nelson,’ he’d said. ‘I have the tickets. The four of us are booked to fly out on the
twenty-third
. Do yourselves a favour and stay out of strife until then.’

‘Wow, it’s all happening!’ said Winter, excitedly. ‘Can you believe we finally have a date, plus the Jewel and the Riddle in our possession?’

‘Crazy stuff,’ I said, relieved, but unable to shake off the bad feelings I had about Mum.

A tiny spider crawled up Winter’s arm. She yawned and shook it off gently.

‘Until we fly out, I’m going to have to find better
accommodation, Cal. A girl like me can only live up a tree for so long. I might give Sharkey a buzz back and see if he can hook me up with a place to stay. Somewhere Sligo will never find me.’

9 DECEMBER

23 days to go

Boges, Winter and I sat on upturned crates out the back of the gym. We were meeting up with Sharkey to go over our travel plans, and were waiting for him to return from the showers.

I’d missed Winter’s company in the last few days. Sharkey had set her up in a motel that was run by a retired cop he knew. She’d tried to
convince
me to join her there, but I felt safer up the tree on Luke Lovett’s property. I also didn’t want to risk bringing any attention to her. We couldn’t let Sligo find her.

‘I have something for you,’ said Boges proudly. He passed me some sort of diving watch. ‘It works like a regular watch but it’s also a radio beacon.’

‘Another distress beacon?’

‘Yep. Consider it an early Christmas present.
I’ve adapted the winder so that if you press it like so,’ Boges leaned over and depressed the tiny button, which lit the watch-face up with a strange, blue pulsing light, ‘you’ll activate the emergency radio signal. I have the receiver here,’ he said, holding out a similar watch on his wrist. ‘This watch picks up the signal and gives me the GPS coordinates of where you are.’

I tightened the watch around my wrist, while Winter shuffled forward to get a closer look at it.

‘Awesome, Boges,’ she said. ‘Hopefully he won’t need to use it like last time.’

‘Better safe than sorry,’ he said. ‘I was hoping it would soften some other news I have,’ Boges began.

I groaned. ‘Spit it out.’

‘I read a report online this morning that the authorities believe you’re a flight risk.’

‘A flight risk? How do they know?’

‘I’m not sure, but they’re upping security at all the major airports until you’re detained.’

‘They’ll have to catch you first,’ said Winter.

‘OK,’ said Sharkey, stepping out of the back door with a clap of his hands. He pulled a crate over to us and sat down on it. His dark hair was wet and slicked back. ‘I figured it would be a good idea to make a basic plan and start getting used to our stories ahead of time. So here’s the
deal. We’re travelling as a school group, OK? I’m your teacher.’

‘Cool,’ said Boges. ‘Our history teacher? You kinda look like you could be a history teacher.’

‘Suits me,’ Sharkey replied. ‘I suggest we all drive together to the airport. I’m happy to leave my car in one of the parking stations. You’ll be safer, Cal, as part of a group. Have you heard about the airport alerts?’

‘Boges just told me.’

‘The authorities will be on the alert for an individual, not a group.’

‘We might be travelling as a group,’ I said, ‘but everyone still has to go through security as an individual … I hope I make it through OK.’

‘Yeah, I’m not so sure I’ll be OK either,’ said Boges. ‘I’m known to the police, as they say. I could be on their radar. Do you think they’ll pull
me
up?’ he asked Sharkey. ‘Do you think my name’s on some sort of watch list?’

‘Won’t be a problem,’ he replied, patting Boges on the shoulder.

‘How can you be so sure?’ Boges asked, puzzled.

Sharkey dug into his gym bag and pulled out a brown paper bag. He tossed it to Boges.

‘What’s this?’ Boges said, as he pulled out a dark blue passport.

‘Open it.’

Boges leafed through the pages. ‘Hey, that’s my picture!
Joshua Stern
?’ he read.

‘That’s your new name, buddy,’ said Sharkey.

Boges started shaking his head. ‘Nelson,’ he said, with a worried look, ‘this would be great, but it was hard enough us getting the money together for Cal’s passport and our tickets. We don’t have enough left over for this one.’

‘Don’t worry about the money,’ said Nelson. ‘I bargained with the forger and convinced him to do another two for me.’

‘Two?’ I asked.

Sharkey promptly produced another brown bag and tossed it to Winter.

Winter caught it with the excitement of a kid at Christmas.

‘Grace Lee?’ she read.

‘That’s right,’ said Sharkey. ‘With Vulkan Sligo’s connections, we don’t want your name alerting the authorities to our presence at the airport, either.’

I reached out to shake Sharkey’s hand. ‘Thanks so much,’ I told him. ‘You must have done some sweet talking to get three passports for us. Ireland would be nothing but a pipedream if we didn’t have you to help us out.’

‘Forget about it. The thing you guys really
need to do now,’ he said, ‘is to practise your new names until you respond to them just like you do to your real names. Like you, Matt Marlow,’ he added, eyeballing me.

‘Yes, sir,’ I said. ‘Maybe you could all call me Matt from now on?’

‘Sure thing, Matty,’ said Winter.

‘Thanks, Grace. You, too, Josh,’ I added.

‘No problem, Matt,’ Boges replied.

‘Good,’ said Sharkey. ‘Our departure date’s going to come around fast. In the meantime, get to know the details on your passports and start packing. I’ll hold onto the tickets for now and I’ll call you to organise another meeting soon.’

‘Nelson,’ said Boges, ‘is it OK if I give my mum your number to call–she’s a bit concerned about this “study trip” occurring over Christmas. Can you just tell her it’s legit?’

Sharkey looked at Boges sternly and pursed his lips. ‘I don’t like lying, but I’ll do it.’

13 DECEMBER

19 days to go
… 

Ryan had been on my mind for days, and this morning I was drawn to his place like a magnet, as though I had to see him and start making up for lost time. I think it was all the photos of Dad and Rafe I’d been mulling over that made me want to speak to
my
twin.

Even though I hardly knew him, he was the only family member I felt safe seeking out, and he deserved to know everything
I
now knew about our history.

I had no simple way of getting in touch with him, so I had no choice but to linger outside his apartment building, hoping he’d show up sooner or later. I leaned against the fence, reading a copy of yesterday’s newspaper that I’d found in a nearby recycling bin.

It was a hot December morning, and if it
hadn’t been for the questions squirming around in my mind concerning my mum, I would have felt great about getting closer and closer to our goal in Ireland.

‘Good morning, Ryan,’ said an old lady, passing by the letterboxes.

I looked up, startled, realising she’d mistaken me for my brother.

‘Hi,’ I answered, flustered, hoping she’d be happy with that and move on.

‘How’s your dear mother?’ she continued.

‘She’s good, thanks,’ I replied, as plainly as I could, silently begging her to leave me alone.

‘Be a pet and tell her I said hello,’ she added, before finally shuffling along to the building next door.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief, just as a familiar figure appeared at the door to the building.

‘Ryan!’ I called out.

I hurried across to him and his face lit up when he saw me.

‘Hey!’ he said. ‘I wanted to get in touch with you but didn’t know how. Quick, come upstairs.’

‘I don’t want to freak your mum out again,’ I said, cautiously, thinking about how last time I’d been here, I’d left him behind with his mum–the woman who’d adopted him–lying unconscious on the floor.

‘She’s not here–already left for work. The place is empty.’

‘So you don’t have to be somewhere?’

‘Nowhere that can’t wait.’

Ryan hunched opposite me, listening intently over the coffee table in his living room. I tried to tell him everything I possibly could about us, and tried to answer all of his questions about
his
mum, and whether she knew who he really was.

‘We were abducted?’ Ryan asked, his eyes searching my face.

‘Yes.’

‘And my mum–I mean, my
adoptive
mum–had no idea of who I really was? That I was the missing baby, Samuel?’

‘That’s right.’

After I’d passed on everything I knew, Ryan was silent for a long time. I wondered what was going through his mind–was he angry? Upset? He stood up and went to the window, looking out across the rooftop where I’d once chased him.

Finally, he turned to me and said, ‘This explains something I’ve thought about for as long as I can remember–that something wasn’t quite right with me, not right with my family. I’ve never really fit in. I don’t look like my
mum, and we’re both really different people. I’ve always had this nagging feeling that something …’

‘Something was missing?’ I finished for him.

He nodded. ‘I’ve always had this dream, too,’ he began, ‘which is finally starting to make sense. I’m in this cold, dark place, crying, then all of a sudden I’m somewhere else, but wanting to go back … It must have been about you,’ he said. ‘You were left behind in that building.’

Goosebumps crawled across the skin on my forearms. The incident had haunted his dreams, too.

‘But why did Murray Durham want to do away with us?’ asked Ryan. ‘I don’t get it.’

I shook my head. ‘He was just carrying out orders.’

‘From who?’

‘I don’t know. Durham didn’t know either.’

‘Cal, I want to ask a favour.’

‘Go on.’

‘I really want to speak to your mum. I mean
our
mum.’ He pulled out his mobile. ‘I just want to talk to her. Tell her I’m OK. Will you call her for me?’

I thought about it for a second. There were so many reasons why I should have said no.
Including
my suspicions about her involvement in the
DMO. But this was her missing child. Maybe she’d listen to him.

‘Here, use my phone,’ said Ryan, handing his mobile to me. He looked so hopeful, nervous, brave.

‘That’s OK,’ I said, turning down his phone. ‘I’ll use mine.’ I stopped thinking about it, pulled out my phone and just dialled her number.

‘It’s ringing,’ I said, already starting to have second thoughts. Could I make things worse and put Ryan in danger? But he wasn’t the heir–
I
was the first-born son.
I’d
beaten him into the world. I hoped that meant he was safe.

Before I could decide, she answered.

‘Hello?’

I took a deep breath. ‘Mum,’ I said. ‘It’s me. Don’t hang up. Just hear me out. I have Ryan Spencer with me. My twin brother.
Samuel
, Mum.’

I waited for her to say something, but she didn’t.

‘He’s here and he’d really like to talk to you,’ I added.

‘Cal, please leave Samuel’s memory alone. He’s dead and gone–’ her voice choked on a sob. ‘Why are you torturing me like this?’

‘But Mum, he’s just here! I promise I’m not lying! Please, at least talk to him?’

‘I can’t, Cal. I just can’t. I have to go.’

The line went dead. I felt a mixture of pain and fury spin through me. She didn’t want to listen.

I looked over at Ryan. ‘No good, huh?’ he asked.

I shook my head.

He looked pretty disappointed, but quickly shrugged it off. ‘She’ll come around sooner or later,’ he said with conviction. ‘Especially when we meet, face-to-face.’

I couldn’t imagine that happening, with Mum acting the way she was, but I kept my mouth shut.

‘I’d better go,’ I said. ‘I have lots to do before I–’ I hesitated, unsure about whether I should mention my Ireland plans.

‘Before you what?’ he asked, curiously. ‘You can trust me, you know. I am your brother, after all. We have at least fifteen years’ worth of
helping
each other out of trouble to catch up on. You can count on me.’

In this new world of not being able to trust anyone, even those closest to me, I was surprised I believed him.

‘I’m flying out,’ I explained. ‘Going to Ireland–leaving in the afternoon of the twenty-third.’

‘How come? Won’t that be dangerous? Aren’t you worried you’ll be caught, going to an airport? Isn’t that a bit–’

‘Stupid?’ I interrupted. ‘Possibly, but I just have to risk it. If I can make it to Ireland, there’s a chance I can clear my name. I have to take that chance. I have a fake passport and I’m hoping that’s enough. I have no alternative and time’s running out.’

‘No alternative, eh?’ he said, giving me a long, hard look. ‘I guess I should say good luck.’

‘Thanks,’ I said.

We exchanged phone numbers, said goodbye and I headed back to the treehouse.

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