Kidnap
Authors: Tommy Donbavand
Titles in Teen Reads:
FAIR GAME
ALAN DURANT
HOME
TOMMY DONBAVAND
KIDNAP
TOMMY DONBAVAND
MAMA BARKFINGERS
CAVAN SCOTT
SITTING TARGET
JOHN TOWNSEND
THE HUNTED
CAVAN SCOTT
THE CORRIDOR
MARK WRIGHT
WORLD WITHOUT WORDS
JONNY ZUCKER
Badger Publishing Limited, Oldmedow Road,
Hardwick Industrial Estate, King's Lynn PE30 4JJ
Telephone: 01438 791037
Kidnap ISBN 978-1-78147-571-3
ISBN: 9781781476703 (Epub)
ISBN: 9781781476710 (Mobi)
Text ©Tommy Donbavand 2014
Complete work © Badger Publishing Limited 2014
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any form or by any means mechanical, electronic, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the publisher.
The right of Tommy Donbavand to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Publisher: Susan Ross
Senior Editor: Danny Pearson
Copyeditor: Cheryl Lanyon
Designer: Bigtop Design Ltd
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Chapter 6 You Have The Rightâ¦
SHOPPING LIST
I could feel the security guard's eyes burning into the back of my neck. He'd been following me around the supermarket for the past ten minutes or so, convinced I was up to no good.
He didn't know the half of it.
I stopped in the cheese aisle and picked up two blocks of cheddar from the shelf, holding one behind the other. Studying the label on the front block, I shook my head slightly to demonstrate that wasn't what I was looking for â then I replaced the back block on the shelf, while sliding the front block up the fraying sleeve of my jumper.
I continued down the aisle, casually lowered my arm down to my side and caught the hidden block of cheddar with my fingers. Then I reached into my bag for my shopping list and swiftly dropped the cheese inside.
Cheese on toast for tea tonight, then.
I was proud of this bag. The best one I'd built in ages. It was made of a stiff material that didn't shake too much when I dropped things into it, and it was completely lined with tin foil to stop security tags from setting off the supermarket's alarms when I was ready to leave. That was just as well, as I already had two mobile phones, a handful of DVDs, a jar of pasta sauce and a loaf of bread in there.
Now all I had to do was get rid of the idiot in the guard's uniform. Honestly, what kind of a man works in security at a supermarket? Couldn't he get a job with the real police?
I lifted my left hand up and scratched my nose, taking a quick look into the mirror I had taped to my palm. This was another brilliant invention of mine. It meant that I could keep watch behind me without having to turn around. Yep â there he was. Peering at me from around a shelf piled high with eggs.
I'd seen this bloke a few times before. He was older than the other guards employed by this branch â maybe in his forties. He was overweight, too â which meant I could outrun him, if it came to a chase. That didn't mean I fancied running out of here, though. I'd much prefer a casual walk home with my âpurchases'.
I had to lose him.
I waited until a family passed behind me, their trolley piled high with shopping. For a moment, it took me back to the old days. Back to when myâ¦
No, I didn't have time to reminisce. I had to lose the goon in the uniform.
I dropped to my knee and pretended to tie my shoelace â then walked in a stoop at the same speed as the family's shopping trolley. One of their kids watched me with a confused expression on his face.
“I've got a bad back,” I said to him with a grin.
A second later, I was able to slip around the side of the vegetable aisle and I was free. I paused to extend my hand mirror past the potatoes and saw the guard looking around in a panic, realising he'd lost sight of me.
Poor sod. I hoped they wouldn't take the cost of what I'd nicked out of his wages.
Acting as calmly as I could, I strolled towards the exit.
As I approached the security scanners by the door, I felt myself tense up a little. Despite the tin foil lining in my bag, there was always the possibility that I'd torn the lining a little when I'd
dropped one of my purchases inside, and that the alarms would go off. I readied myself to run at the first sound of them.
Nothing. Yes! The bag was working perfectly. Now I just had to cross the car park and I'd be home free.
“Oi! You!”
I turned to see the security guard racing out of the supermarket behind me. He must have seen me as I'd made for the door. Damn!
Swinging my bag over my shoulder, I broke into a run, making for the gap in the fence behind one of the trolley bays. The hole led to a patch of waste ground at the back of the estate. Once I was there, I'd be able to get away easily enough.
I lifted my hand mirror to check on my pursuer, and was surprised to see how close he was getting. He was fast for his size!
I reached the gap in the fence and tossed my bag through. Then I dropped to my hands and knees to crawl to freedom. I'd almost made it when the security guard grabbed hold of my ankle.
“Get back here!” he snarled.
For a moment, I almost kicked the guard away in an effort to be free â but then I remembered some of the best advice I'd ever been given. “If you fight back, they'll get you for assault as well as shoplifting, and that's far more serious.”
Good tip, that. I didn't want to spend a night in the cells charged with attacking this poor fella. He was only doing his job, after all. So I went straight to plan B â distractionâ¦
As the security guard tried to drag me back through the hole in the fence, I reached into my bag and pulled out the jar of pasta sauce I'd just nicked. Lying back to get the best angle, I tossed it over the fence.
SMASH!
The jar smashed to the ground right beside the guard, making him jump and briefly let go of my ankle. This was my chance. I scrambled to my feet, grabbed my bag, and ran onto the waste ground.
This time, I turned rather than using my mirror and grinned at the sight of the guard trying to squeeze his way through my escape hole. It wasn't happening.
“I'll get you next time, you little monster!” he roared after me.
No
, I thought.
You won't, mate.
I didn't stop running until I reached an alley part-way into the estate and I spotted a female figure waiting with her own bag at the other end. It was the person who'd given me that good advice.
“I thought you weren't coming, Joe!” she said with a grin. “Thought you'd been caught.”
“No chance,” I said. “Slippery as an eel, me.” I eyed the other bag with interest. “What did you get?”
My fellow shoplifter opened her bag and I studied her haul â two packets of minced beef, a few cans of cola, and⦠what was that at the bottom? It couldn't be! A laptop! That would bring in a few quid.
“Yes!” I said, offering a high-five. “Nice one, Mum!”
JOB HUNT
Before we go any further, I want to get a few things straightâ¦
My mum and me â we're not bad people. Yes, we have to go on the rob for food, and for stuff we can sell to pay the bills. But that's not our fault.
It's my dad's.
We used to be a happy family. We had a nice house, a nice car â and we even went on holiday every year. Nowhere posh like Spain, or whatever, just to a cottage in Cornwall â but it
was always brilliant. My dad even bought me a surfboard one year so I could have a go at hitting the waves. Honest to God â a proper surfboard!
Then, he met
her
.
Liz.
She worked at the place where my dad was the manager â a company that printed menus for restaurants and takeaways. If you've had one of those pushed through your letterbox recently, chances are it was printed at my dad's work.
My dad and Liz started to have an affair behind my mum's back. Actually, that's a bit of a joke. He was so rubbish at hiding where he'd been and who he'd been with that he got found out almost straight away.
He wasn't a very good actor, my dad.
I remember the night it all kicked off as though it was yesterday. He came home late from work, saying they'd had to reprint some pizza delivery
menus in a hurry because they'd spotted a couple of spelling mistakes. He said he wasn't hungry after staring at pictures of pizzas all evening long. He just wanted to have a bath and go to bed.
So he dumped his wallet and his keys on the side just like always, and went upstairs to run his bath. Only the idiot left the receipt from his hotel room there, without thinking. The hotel room he'd been at all evening withâ¦
her
.
