Acid (9 page)

At lunch time, instead of eating, I catch a mag back
home
, running all the way to Anderson Court. Max is exactly as I left him, curled in a ball on the sofa. I have just enough time to tip a few drops of water into his mouth before I have to leave again. The only blessing is that both Mrs Holloway and her Partner come down with heavy colds that day. Apart from knocking on the door once in the evening to tell me Sammie’s home safely, and to ask if I could walk him for her – I tell her I’d love to, but I’m allergic to dogs – she stays in her flat.

By the following evening, Max’s temperature has finally dropped, but he only stays awake long enough to drink half a cup of instant soup. I spend most of the night at the window, watching the street below for ACID vans, and the sky for rotos.

When it starts to get light, I change into my pyjamas, crawl under the bedcovers and close my eyes. I’m sure I won’t sleep, but if I don’t at least try, I’m going to go crazy. When I open my eyes again it’s daylight, sunshine streaming in the window. I check the time on my komm and see I’ve been asleep for over four hours. I scramble out of bed, my thoughts still muddled with sleep, on the verge of panic until I remember it’s Sunday and I don’t have to be at work.

Max
, I think. I rush into the living room.

The sofa’s empty.

Panic jolts through me. He became delirious and tried to escape. Or Mrs Holloway reported us, and ACID came while I was asleep and took him away. They could still be here, waiting . . .

I look around the room, the blood pounding in my ears. It looks much tidier than before I went to bed. The blanket I covered Max with has been folded over the sofa back, the windows are open, letting in fresh air, and Max’s shoes are lined up neatly by the door.

Then I hear a hissing sound coming from the bathroom. My pulse slows. Would ACID really be taking a shower and waiting for me to wake up?

The sound of the water stops and the door opens. ‘Shit!’ Max yelps, stumbling back, making me jump too. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and grabs at it just before it slides off. As we stare at each other, I become uncomfortably aware that I’m still in my pyjamas – a pair of shorts and a skimpy vest with a low neck and very thin straps – and he’s, well, more or less naked, his wet hair plastered to his head and drops of water beaded on his too-prominent collarbone and ribs.

‘Sorry,’ he stammers, his face going pink. ‘I would’ve asked if it was all right to use the shower, but you were asleep, and—’

‘It’s fine,’ I say, clearing my throat and feeling my face warm up too. Now he’s clean and smells good, I realize for the first time how cute he is. His eyes, fringed by dark lashes, have flecks of gold in the irises, and there are a few freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose.

And
God
, he looks like Alex. He looks so much like Alex it takes my breath away. I cross my arms over my chest, fighting back guilt and embarrassment. ‘D’you feel better?’

‘Loads,’ he says, coughing. He looks around, and frowns. ‘Where am I?’

‘My flat,’ I say.
State the obvious, Jenna
.

‘Am I still in London?’

‘Yeah. Outer. Zone M. I’m Mia.’ My heart does a quick double-thud as the name rolls off my tongue. It still doesn’t feel as if it belongs to me, and every time I say it, I’m scared I’ll stumble over it, give myself away.

His frown deepens. ‘How did I get here?’

‘You tell me,’ I say. ‘You were the one who tried to mug me.’

He stares at me. ‘What?’

Despite my nerves, I smile; I can’t help it. ‘With a butter knife,’ I add.

‘So what am I doing here?’ he asks. ‘Why didn’t you report me to ACID?’

‘Would you prefer it if I had?’ I say in as casual a tone as I can manage.

‘No! Of course not! ACID are—’

‘Looking for you. I know. You’re Max Fisher, aren’t you?’ I can tell he’s a little suspicious, so I act as if I’m unsure, although of course, I’m anything but.

‘How did you—’

‘How do you think? You’re all over the news screens. Don’t worry,’ I add as his eyes widen and he glances at the window as if he expects to see an ACID roto hovering right outside. ‘No one knows you’re here.’

I hope
, I think, mentally crossing my fingers.

Max looks down at himself. ‘Um, do you have anything clean I could put on?’

Feeling my face warm up again, I fetch Max his now-clean jeans, T-shirt and green hoody, plus some underwear left behind by Cade (which I tell him I bought for him), and he retreats into the bathroom to dress. By the time he re-emerges I’ve thrown some clothes on too, and made coffee and toast and jam. As he devours it, I gaze at the floor. Even though I know there’s no way on earth he could possibly recognize me, I’m nervous of maintaining eye contact with him for more than a few moments. I’m scared he’ll be able to read my thoughts somehow; my thoughts which are screaming:
This guy’s dad died for you. He thinks you killed him! Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in right now if he
does
realize who you are?

‘So I really tried to rob you?’ he says through a mouthful of toast.

‘You don’t remember?’

He shakes his head. As I tell him what happened, the little colour that had come back into his face drains away. ‘You’re kidding,’ he says.

‘How the hell did you end up on CloudNine in the first place?’ I ask.

‘Caz and Tam.’

‘Who?’

He sighs. ‘I guess I’d better start from the beginning.’

Um, yeah, that’d probably be a good idea
, I’m about to say, but the look on his face stops me. I press my lips together.
Go
easy on him
, I think.
You need to convince him you’re on his side so you can get him to Mel and Jon without any hassle
.

Max frowns into his coffee mug. ‘It was about three weeks ago, I think. I’d just got to college – I was supposed to be starting my tests to figure out what sort of job I’d have after I got LifePartnered – when Mum linked me from home. She was hysterical, saying someone was trying to break down the front door. I asked if she’d called ACID, and she said it
was
ACID, that a van and a roto were outside. I didn’t know what to think. What happened to Dad . . .’ He swallows, his throat jerking. ‘It wrecked her. Really wrecked her. I thought she’d finally cracked, that she was having a nervous breakdown or something.’

I think about my own mother. Guilt twists inside me as Max’s face pinches into a scowl. ‘I hope they catch that girl, wherever she’s gone,’ he says, his voice full of venom. ‘Or that she’s living somewhere really shitty, with no food and nowhere to get warm.’

I force myself to keep my expression neutral, my breathing steady.

‘I kept telling her to calm down,’ he continues. ‘But she wouldn’t. She kept telling me ACID were coming for me too – that I had to get away. She kept saying, “You mustn’t let them catch you!” again and again and again. I asked her why but she wouldn’t tell me. Then my friend Josh burst into the classroom and said that ACID had just arrived and were asking for me. A few moments
later
I heard someone shout, “Where is he? Where’s Max Fisher?”

‘That’s when I realized that Mum had been telling the truth. I thought about hiding under a table or in a cupboard – stupid places like that. Josh was staring at me. I tried to explain, but I was so scared I couldn’t get the words out. I ran over to the window and opened it. Josh was shouting, saying I was insane, that I’d be in even more trouble if I tried to escape, but I ignored him. Then the door crashed open. ACID had found me.’

He pauses for a moment, his gaze becoming troubled and distant. ‘I just panicked,’ he says. ‘I hadn’t got a clue what ACID wanted, I just knew I had to do what Mum said – I had this
feeling
, you know? So I ripped my komm out, climbed out of the window – the classroom was on the ground floor, thank God – and started running. I jumped on the first mag I found and rode it to Outer, right to the end of the line. I ended up in this park – it was really run down, and the only place I could find to hide was a shelter by a lake.

‘I’d not been there long when this man and woman came in. They were really surprised to see me. When they asked what I was doing there, I didn’t want to say anything at first – ever since I was a little kid, I’d always heard how dangerous Outer was – but they were so friendly, I ended up telling them everything. It turned out they were looking for somewhere to have a cigarette. The woman, Caz, said if I kept a lookout for ACID for them while they smoked, I could stay with her and Tam – that
was
the guy’s name – that night, and the next morning she’d let me use her komm to get in touch with someone. I was so desperate not to spend the night in that park I said yes.’

You idiot
, I think. I can almost predict what he’s going to say next.

‘Their flat was horrible – crap everywhere – but I didn’t want to seem rude, so I tried to ignore it. Caz made me a sandwich. About ten minutes after I’d eaten it I started to feel really sick and dizzy. Then I passed out. Next thing I knew, it was morning, and I wanted to die, I felt so bad. I tried to find the kitchen to get some water and collapsed. When Caz found me she started accusing me of being a niner. I couldn’t convince her I’d never been near the stuff, and I was in total agony, pains everywhere. She said she’d got something that’d help, but I had to earn it. She got this little bag out of her pocket, with blue crystals in it. I realized what it was straight away. I didn’t want to take it, but . . .’

‘You felt so bad, you did,’ I finish for him. It’s how the niners at Mileway got other inmates addicted to the stuff: by telling them it would make them feel better; reassuring them that one more dose wouldn’t get them hooked. And that the one after that wouldn’t either. Or the one after that.

Max hangs his head, looking ashamed.

‘How did you have to “earn” it?’ I ask, although I’m not sure I really want to know.

‘They were running this business making fake
c-cards,’
he says. ‘Me and this other kid, who they’d got hooked on CloudNine too, we had to go out robbing people to fund it because they didn’t want to spend the money they were making from the cards.’ He looks up at me and shrugs. ‘I don’t really remember much after that. Until I woke up here, that is.’ He gives me a shaky smile. ‘Thank you for taking me in and not telling ACID about me. You probably saved my life.’

My stomach jolts. What would he think if he knew the truth – that I only took him in because I had to, to save my own skin?

I feel a sudden burst of anger at ACID – for killing his dad, for the lies they’ve spread about Alex’s death, for wrecking a family and – although I feel selfish for even thinking this – for making my already difficult situation so much harder.

‘Yeah, well, you can’t stay here,’ I say, struggling to decide what to tell him that will sound believable without coming too close to the truth, and that will also explain the very obvious absence of Cade. ‘I’m hiding from ACID too. I ran away from my LifePartner and some friends of mine got me this flat. If we can get you to them, they can help you. Do you still have your c-card?’

‘Not my real one,’ he says. ‘Caz and Tam took it away from me. But I had this fake one they made me so I could travel on the mag – it was in a wallet in my jeans.’

Suddenly, I remember the wallet I found when I changed his clothes a couple of days ago – things have been so crazy I forgot all about it. I fetch it for him.

‘That’s it,’ he says, looking relieved. He pulls out a c-card. I take it and examine it. When you look closely, the holopic’s a little blurry – probably deliberately – but apart from that, you’d never know it wasn’t genuine. Across the front, in red letters, are the words
THIS CARD ENTITLES THE HOLDER TO CITIZENSHIP OF THE INDEPENDENT REPUBLIC OF BRITAIN
, just like on mine. The ACID logo is emblazoned across the top, and there’s a picture of General Harvey’s face beside it. Under the holopic is the name
ADAMS, MICHAEL
.

‘Impressive,’ I say. ‘And actually, this is better than you having your real one. ACID will have flagged that already, to try and track you. With this one, we should be able to get you to my friends without anyone realizing.’

As I hand the card back to him, I hear my komm pinging softly on my bedside table.
Mel
, I think. I jump up and run to the bedroom, jamming my komm in my ear. When Mel’s face comes up on the wraparound, I’m so relieved my legs go wobbly and I have to sit down on the bed.

‘Mel!’ I say. ‘How’s your mum?’

‘Much better, thank you,’ she replies. There are dark circles under her eyes, though. ‘Are you OK? You look worried.’

For a moment, I’m tempted to tell her everything, and to hell with worrying about whether or not ACID are listening. I stop myself just in time. If ACID hear the words
Max Fisher
, they’ll be swarming all over this building like termites.

‘I think I need an appointment at the clinic,’ I say. ‘I’m – I’m not feeling so well.’

‘Oh,’ Mel says. ‘How urgent is it?’

My heart’s pounding. ‘Fairly,’ I say, unable to keep a note of desperation out of my voice.

Mel’s expression stays calm. ‘Is Wednesday soon enough? That’s ceremony day, so you should have the day off work, shouldn’t you? We do.’

I nod. Ceremony day, when the latest lot of just-turned-sixteens get Partnered, takes place every month, and it’s always declared a public holiday.

‘Come over to the clinic in the morning, at oh-ten hundred.’

‘OK,’ I say. I wish I could get rid of Max sooner, but Wednesday’s probably the best day. Mrs Holloway will be out at the Partnering ceremony at Zone M’s ceremony square, and if I’m lucky, I might be able to get Max out of here without her seeing us.

‘See you Wednesday, then,’ she says, and cuts the link. I let out my breath in a shaky sigh. Three days. Seventy-two hours. I can keep Max a secret till then.

Can’t I?

 

AGENCY FOR CRIME INVESTIGATION AND DEFENCE ARREST REPORT

WARNING! This document is to be viewed by permitted persons only. Copying or sharing this document is a criminal offence.

Date of arrest(s):
22.05.13

Time of arrest(s):
0300 hrs

Time of report:
0600 hrs

Agent submitting report:
7865 Johnson

Suspects apprehended:

1. Name: Caroline Jane Nicholls
   Age: 23
   Sex: F
   C-card number: 987523436CJN
   
2. Name: Tam Nicholls
   Age: 23
   Sex: M
   C-card number: 987523437TN
   

Circumstances of Arrest:
Prisoners suspected of manufacturing and selling counterfeit citizenship-cards. Team of agents raided prisoners’ address –3 Marks Court, Leopold Road, Zone S, Outer London – following arrest on 19.05.13 of another suspect holding counterfeit card which was traced
back
to prisoners
.
Equipment found on premises includes holocameras, holocoms and a 3D printer used to print cards. Agents also found drug apparel, tobacco and alcohol on premises.

Action:
Prisoners charged for all offences and detained for questioning at Upper London Interrogation Centre. ACID Counterfeit Goods unit to place tracker alert on link ID used to activate cards so that holders of other cards produced by Mr and Mrs Nicholls can be traced and arrested when cards used.

Additional Notes:
1 genuine card found on premises belonging to Maxwell Fisher
.
It is not yet known how Fisher came to be at the premises or where he is now. Prisoners deny all knowledge. Suggest tracking fake cards to be best course of action as Fisher may be in possession of one.

END REPORT
.