September (13 page)

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Authors: Gabrielle Lord

BOOK: September
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We crawled along the dark, crumbly passage until finally we were hauling ourselves through
a square-cut hole into a water collection area under the railway line. I looked at the drain cover above us and heard the roaring of a train rattling over the top of it. That was where Repro had saved me the first time.

‘If you keep going through the tunnel over there,’ he said, ‘you’ll end up in the park about half a kilometre from here. The opening is well hidden with bushes and shrubs. You should be OK emerging there. Should be OK.’

‘Thanks Repro,’ I said, simultaneously
grateful
I was alive, but also feeling incredibly guilty about the trouble I’d caused for him. ‘Where will you go? What will you do?’

He sat down on the hard cement floor of the pump area. ‘I’ll have to find another place,’ he said sadly, ‘and start again. I may venture back to the lair, one day, to see if anything’s salvageable. All those musical instruments, my books, my paintings …’ He kicked at the ground dejectedly. ‘What about Mr and Mrs Bones?’

‘I’m sorry,’ was all I could offer. I couldn’t help him. I didn’t have a clue where I should go either. ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’

‘Nah, look, the Reprobate will be just fine,’ he said with a wave of his hands. ‘He always is. Setbacks will only set you back as far as you allow them. I’ll be fine. You, my boy, should get
out of here before someone finds you. Get on your way. Get back to business. Forget about me.’

21 SEPTEMBER

102 days to go …

I’d slept for a few hours in a quiet shed, deep in someone’s backyard, and now it was time to move on. It had been hard falling asleep. I couldn’t get Repro out of my mind—I was wondering where he was, and what he was doing. Where would he find a place to sleep?

I was also thinking about my double, Ryan Spencer, and how I was going to make contact with him.

As I stood up, trying to make a decision on the direction I’d take, my mobile buzzed. I fished it out of my backpack—a message from Boges.

 going to w’s this morning. around 11. coming? plan operation moth invasion?

 definitely. i’ll b there.

‘What happened to you?’ asked Boges, frowning. ‘You look like you’ve just been flung out of a cyclone!’

Winter poked her head around Boges to get a look at me for herself. Her nose scrunched up in disgust, before a look of concern took over.

I brushed my hands through my hair,
sending
dust flying, and held out my grazed, bruised arms. ‘More like a mining disaster,’ I said, before having to explain my catastrophic night at Repro’s—from capture through to the collapse.

Boges and Winter both felt as sorry for Repro as I did. They asked me what he was going to do without his lair.

I wished I had an answer.

I felt a million times better after a hot shower, and when I stepped over to Boges and Winter I saw that they’d sketched up a rough diagram of Oriana’s house and grounds. It was spread out over the table and they were both leaning over it, making adjustments here and there, pointing out the best way of approach. I noticed Boges had brought the duffel bag with him.

‘Come and check it out,’ Boges said. He looked at me expectantly. ‘We should do it tonight.’

‘You’re in? Are you sure?’

‘You can’t do it on your own. Hopefully this tree,’ he said, pointing to it on the diagram, ‘is big enough for the both of us! Nah, I’m just kidding,’ he said. ‘I don’t need to be
that
close. You’re on your own there.’ Boges laughed and patted me on the back. ‘I’ll wait across the road. There’s a spot here that I’ve sussed out,’ he said, indicating a house on the diagram that was opposite Oriana’s. ‘It has a double garage with a roof that looks like the perfect spot for me to set up my listening post. It’s well within five hundred metres of our target. We’ll meet up there once you’ve planted the bug. Sorry, the moth.’

I glanced at Winter, who was looking a bit disappointed to be missing out on the action. Keeping two people undercover was going to be tough enough already and it was going to be a hugely risky move. Sumo and Kelvin were still taking turns patrolling the premises.

‘So that means once the moth is planted,’ I began, ‘we’ll be staying up there on the roof all night listening?’

‘Right,’ said Boges, lifting the rifle out of the duffel bag. ‘Oriana seems to be most active—
and hopefully talkative—at night. A nocturnal creature.
I
can always catch up with my sleep during History. Now let’s get some practice!’

Both dressed in black, Boges and I huddled down in the dark. We were about to go to our separate posts. He pointed out the roof of the garage on the other side of the street where he was
planning
on hiding. It was perfect—detached from the house it belonged to, next to a scalable lattice fence, and obscured by the thick foliage of an overhanging tree.

Boges was equipped with earphones and a small, specialised FM radio receiver that he’d tuned to pick up the transmission from the bug. He handed me the duffel bag and wished me luck.

The hope of information on the location of the Jewel and the Riddle was making me tense. Not only did I have to nail my one shot, I also had to count on Oriana, or one of her thugs,
revealing
something crucial to my search in the small, ten- to twelve-hour bracket of eavesdropping the moth would give us. I was nervous with
anticipation
, but felt excited too.

I also had to remain invisible. There was no way I could let myself get caught on the grounds of Oriana de la Force’s house. Especially not with a rifle in my bag. I looked at the dark blue
Mercedes
parked in the driveway and shuddered.

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