Matt & Michelle 1: The Fugitive Heir (2 page)

I activated the suit and left the bathroom. Crossing to my balcony, I slid down a rope to the ground fifteen meters below. I stole across the lawn, flitting from shadow to shadow. No floodlights came on. No alarms sounded. Five minutes later, I was over the wall and gliding past neighboring mansions and away into the night.

I’d done it. For an hour or two, I was free and clear.

CHAPTER TWO

A Near Escape

Getting over the wall and away from the house was only part of the challenge. I was still a long way from the center-city docking bay that was home to my spaceship. Most days, a couple of bodyguards drove me to the site. Sometimes I drove myself, closely followed by a car carrying two or three bodyguards. For obvious reasons, both of those options were out. So I did what no one would expect.

I took public transport.

It was a short walk to the local maglev station; the help has to get to and from their jobs in the mansions somehow, after all. A couple of minutes later, I caught the first train back to the city. The half full train carried me through a dozen stations, the crowd ebbing and flowing around me. No one bothered me, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Ten minutes from my stop, my comm buzzed. I’d brought one of several unlisted and unregistered comms I owned. It’s amazing what you can get away with when you own the company. In other words, no one should have this comm code. Certain it could only be a wrong number, I let it go to the message bank.

Within seconds, the comm buzzed again. Irritated, I waited for it to go to the message bank again.

“Idiot! Listen to the comm message before calling again. You’ve got a wrong number.”

Based on the vids I watched, people on trains talked to themselves all the time. Based on the looks I got from people nearby, reality was different.

I gave a sheepish smile to the nearest passenger. “Sorry. Someone keeps calling and they never leave a message.”

“Then why don’t you answer it and tell the person of their error?” The passenger, a middle-aged woman, shook her head in disapproval. “The caller could be flustered due to an emergency, have coded the comm wrong the first time, and keep hitting the repeat button. Young people today have no manners. I’d never have ignored a comm when
I
was your age.”

I pulled the comm out of my pocket. “Thank you, ma’am. I hadn’t considered that and will remember what you’ve told me.”

That earned me a slight smile and a nod. The woman turned back to her reader.

I thumbed the comm and, in case the woman was still listening, adopted my polite young man voice.

“I’m sorry, I don’t recognize your comm code. I believe you may have miscoded.”

The woman’s smile widened. She
had
been listening.

“Where are you, sir?”

“
Jonas?”

“You’re not the only person with unlisted comms, sir.”

“Apparently my comms aren’t as unlisted as I thought. How did you get this code?”

“There’s a record for every comm code, even unlisted ones. And your uncle is chairman of the board of the conglomerate that manufactured your comm.”

We pulled up to the last station before my exit. Almost everyone got off at this stop, including Miss Manners. She gave me a little wave, which I returned.

“As I asked before, sir, where are you?”

“I’m on the maglev train, heading to the docks in the center of town.”

“How many stations are left before you reach the docks?”

“We just pulled away from the last station.”

“Can you look about your car without appearing to do so, sir?”

It was dark outside the car and well-lit inside. I could easily see the interior of the car reflected in the windows. I didn’t know what had Jonas so worried until I saw the reflection of the six men about my own age sitting a few rows behind me.

“There are eight other people in the car. Two men sitting by themselves and six guys about my age in the back of the car. The six guys keep looking my way.”

“Do you see a transit officer or a more crowded car?”

I looked up through moving tunnel of linked cars and back through the reflections.

“No to both, Jonas. Suggestions?”

“Are you armed?”

“It’s against the law to bring weapons on public transport.”

“Next time you pull a stunt like this, please disregard such laws. I’d much rather deal with the police than the coroner.”

“I’m glad you think there will be a next time, Jonas.”

“I will get you out of this, sir, if for no other reason than the pleasure I will take from giving you a verbal flaying. Back to the matter at hand. Is anyone in the car ahead of you?”

“Three people, all older, none together.”

“Good. Stay in your seat until the train begins slowing for the next station. Rise slowly, as if you’re just another traveler getting off the train. At the last second, bolt for the next car and out its door.”

“Got it. What then?”

“The platform exit will be to the right. Head out onto the street and turn left. Watch for an oh six green Jusair. The driver is one of us.”

“That car is older than me, Jonas. Are you-”-”

“Pay attention to the situation, sir, not the year the car was built. Is the station in sight?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s time to put away the comm and concentrate on the plan.”

As much as I wanted to get away from Jonas and the others earlier, I no longer wanted to be alone.

“Jonas, does this have anything to do with my announcement?”

“Of course.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know you are, sir. And, if I may be allowed to say, it’s about damned time.”

Despite myself, I gave a short laugh.

“I’ll talk to you soon, sir.”

Standing as the train slowed, I pocketed the comm unit. My eyes flicked to the reflection in the windows. The six guys in the rear stood, all of them openly eying me. I lifted my arms as if stretching. The guys in the back grinned at each other, thinking I would be an easy mark.

I broke off my stretch and sprinted for the next car. Shouts erupted behind me, followed by the clatter of footsteps as the gang came after me.

The train slowed to a crawl as it pulled up to the station. Between me and the door, an older man rose to his feet and turned toward the aisle.

“Watch out, sir!”

The man started at my shout and looked at me. His eyes widened and he slumped back into his seat. Fearful eyes tracked me as I dashed past him.

I turned my attention to the still-closed door. Should I hope the door opened in time or run to the next car? A glance toward the next car showed a pair of young guys blocking the aisle. Great, the gang behind me had friends in front of me.

The door hissed and began opening when I was five meters away. Never has a door moved so slowly. I turned sideways and slipped through the partially open door. A hand snatched at my sleeve, but I pulled it free and ran to the right, just as Jonas instructed.

Two of my pursuers slid through the door like I had, but the others piled up against the slow-moving barrier. At least I’d managed to put a few more meters between me and most of them.

I dodged around a few people, all of whom shrank back as I passed. From their reactions, I guessed this kind of thing wasn’t as unusual to them as it was to me.

I reached the escalator down to street level. The stairs were not moving, but I had never considered simply riding the thing down anyway. I hit the stairs and leapt down five steps. More people trudged down the stairs ahead of me, blocking my way.

Leaping another five steps, I shouted, “Get out of the way!”

Most of the people scooted to the right side of the motionless stairs without looking back, but one man refused to move. His shoulders stiffened at my shout, so he had heard me. I guess he was just tired of young punks ordering him around. I sympathized—I really did—but his stubborn reaction might get me killed.

Thanking the education gods that gymnastics was still a sport taught in expensive private schools, I brought both feet together and jumped from three steps above the stubborn man. Tucking, I used the man’s shoulders as a vault. He shouted in surprise when I flipped from his shoulders. I unfolded from the tuck and prepared for a blind landing. You always land blind after a forward flip, but I could only guess how far I had to fall to reach the ground. I guessed wrong.

My right ankle twisted beneath me as I hit the floor at the bottom of the escalator. I went limp and rolled, trying to save my ankle from a sprain or break. Pain blossomed from the ankle as I came to my feet. Ignoring the pain, I staggered toward the street just a few meters away.

Shouts of alarm rang behind me as the gang chasing me shoved people out of their way. Limping as fast as I could, I risked a look behind me. The guys closest to me lay tangled among the people they’d barreled into while chasing me. The rest of the gang pounded down the other side of the escalator, people below them jumping out of their way.

Hoping my ankle would hold for a few more seconds and hoping even more that Jonas’s associate was on time, I turned left and ran on. Pain lanced through my ankle with every pounding step I took. From the shouts and footsteps behind me, my lead over the gang was no more than five meters.

Shouts of joyous rage rose behind me. “We got you now, punk!”

Powerful repulsers whined behind me, drowning out the shouts. A green Jusair shot across my path and the passenger door flew open.

“Matt, duck!”

The voice was young and feminine and, somehow, familiar.

I dropped and rolled toward the car. The second I was out of the way, a steady stream of blaster bolts flashed over my head. Cries of pain and fear broke from the gang on my heels. The firing stopped as suddenly as it started.

“Get in but stay low!”

I rose to a crouch and dove into the car. The driver put the car into a tight spin and I found my head laying in her lap, a bare midriff right before my eyes. My ankle throbbed and I had just escaped death by the skin of my teeth, yet my mind focused exclusively on the belly button mere centimeters before my nose.

“Are you okay, Matt?”

The familiar voice drew my attention from my navel gazing. I rolled my head and looked up. The soft glow from the dashboard lit blonde hair framing a very pretty and very familiar face.

“Michelle?”

“Yep. It looks like you’ve been busy since the semester ended.”

I struggled to sit up, but Michelle just pushed my head down into her lap again. I really liked the view from her lap, so didn’t struggle.

“Um, not that I’m complaining, Michelle, but what the hell are you doing here?”

“Saving your ass, Matt.”

“Yeah, and thanks. Seriously. But I was expecting one of my bodyguards, not someone from school.”

Michelle laughed and patted my head. “Silly boy, I
am
one of your bodyguards.”

“Since when?”

“Since we first met, back in sixth grade.”

Michelle checked her exterior view cams, either oblivious to the bombshell she’d just dropped or pretending to be.

“Okay, you can sit up now.”

My mind whirled through school memories before settling down on the day I’d met Michelle. Well, the day I first saw her, anyway. Every boy in our class fell in love with her the first day she came to our school. She wasn’t the prettiest girl in school—that title belonged to Jayna, with her best friend Brenda a close second—but Michelle didn’t act as if her looks made her some sort of royalty. You never felt Michelle was looking down her nose at you when she talked to you. Unlike many of the other guys in school, I never fell out of love with her.

Michelle spoke again, interrupting my memories. “I said, you can sit up now, Matt.”

“Oh! Sorry, Michelle.” I sat up. “I was… It’s just… You surprised me. I never knew I had a bodyguard
in
my school. Especially one as pretty as you.”

Oh, crap, had I just said that out loud?

“I mean, as
young
as you.”

Michelle laughed and it was filled with good humor rather than the scorn I’d expected. She glanced at me, her blue eyes reflecting the same humor I heard in her laugh.

“That’s very kind of you to say, Matt.”

“Um, that you’re pretty? I know you’re not blind or stupid, Michelle. You’ve got to know that already.”

“No, it’s not that, though it
is
charming the way you just blurted it out.”

“Then I really don’t understand. Unless you think we’re not young.”

Michelle patted my leg. “No, it’s that you never knew anyone was guarding you inside the school. It means I’ve done my job well.” Like flipping a switch, Michelle was suddenly all business. “And mentioning that job, I need to check in.”

She touched a button on the dash and a vid screen sprang to life. Jonas looked out from the screen. His eyes flicked between Michelle and me.

“You’re both safe and unharmed, Michelle?”

“I think Matt turned his ankle running from the gang, but otherwise yes to both questions.”

“Report.”

With an economy of words our literature teacher would have admired, Michelle related her end of the pick-up. When she finished, I described what had happened after Jonas signed off and before Michelle arrived.

“Now, Jonas, don’t you think you ought to tell me what’s going on?”

“Yes, but not over the vid.”

“Fine. Michelle can bring me home.”

“Good. And we can have your ankle checked when you get here. Michelle-”

“No, I should
not
bring Matt home. There are too many eyes and ears around. Have Matt come home with a girl and I can guarantee some servant will make a few credits selling that information to the newsies.”

“Being known as Matt’s girlfriend
would
give you a good reason to be by Matt’s side at all times.”

I liked the sound of that.

“Maybe, but Matt should know everything we know before agreeing to something like that.”