Underground (6 page)

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Authors: Chris Morphew

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BOOK: Underground
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I read the headline.

MURDER CHARGE FOR PHOENIX TEENS.

Underneath, a half-page photo showed Calvin and Barnett lugging a body bag out of the bush on a stretcher. The officer that Calvin had shot at the crater. And under that, three little photos of Jordan, Peter and me. The same dodgy mugshots the
Herald
used every time it had some new fake crime to accuse us of. I swore under my breath.

‘Yeah,' said Jordan. ‘Apparently, Calvin caught us trespassing out in that bushland we set fire to. Only this time, we somehow got our hands on a gun. Killed that one guard, and then injured Officer Miller when he tried to disarm us. Which, you know, doesn't make Phoenix Security look too competent, but –'

‘Why do people believe this crap?' I said, snatching the paper out of her hand. ‘I mean, maybe the vandalism and whatever, but this is … What is wrong with people? Seriously, how can they just swallow –?'

‘Because it's easier,' said Jordan, cutting into my rant. ‘Because the truth is complicated and scary and it would mean
not
believing a bunch of stuff that's simple and comfortable. Remember what Peter was like when we first found out about all this? Why believe there's a bigger truth out there when you can just keep your head down and tell yourself everything's okay?'

She took back the newspaper and started leafing through it again. I watched her, realising how right she was. Realising that was
exactly
how my mum reacted every time she was confronted with something weird in this place.

‘What about your parents?' I asked. ‘No way are they going to believe you shot someone.'

‘Right,' said Jordan, leaning across the paper. ‘Right,
but
they're still going along with Calvin's “investigation”. Which means they've realised something's up, and they've realised it's dangerous enough that they don't want to make trouble.'

She looked almost happy about it.

One more bite and my chocolate was gone.

My stomach grumbled, like it was insulted.

‘We need to eat,' I said.

‘Tonight,' Jordan agreed. ‘Job number one is food – and some warmer clothes, too, if we can get them.'

‘Where are we going to find –?'

‘Job number
two
,' Jordan pushed on, holding the newspaper out again, ‘is figuring out what to do about
this.

' I looked down at a two-page spread about a
COMPREHENSIVE NEW SURVEILLANCE
SYSTEM
that was going to
REVOLUTIONISE
PHOENIX SECURITY.
It seemed like the Cooperative wasn't wasting any time turning our disappearance into an excuse to tighten its grip on the rest of the town.

The pages read like an infomercial for an exciting new product, trying to gloss over the two solid facts in the whole article: a network of outdoor surveillance cameras was being installed all over Phoenix, and it was due to go online on the first of the month.

Which meant that if we didn't have a new plan by midnight on Tuesday, we'd be trapped in this house, waiting for the Co-operative to come and find us.

Chapter 7

S
ATURDAY
, J
UNE
27
47
DAYS

I crept across the grass on all fours, along the side of yet another photocopied Phoenix home. Jordan was pulling ahead. I hurried after her.

We'd taken turns sleeping for the rest of the day. Between the stress and the exhaustion and the lack of food, I'd been too lethargic to do anything, even when I was awake. The furthest I'd moved from my spot on the carpet was a couple of trips to the upstairs bathroom.

But I was wide awake again now that it was dark, propped up by adrenalin.

We were back up at the north end of town, not far from Jordan's place. We'd taken the long way here, slipping into the bushland and circling around under the cover of the trees, but eventually we'd had to venture back out among the houses. We'd already had a couple of near misses with security.

Jordan stopped under a low bedroom window. The light was still on inside. She turned as I reached her. ‘Okay, get ready to run if this is the wrong bedroom.'

‘Wait –
What?'

Jordan grinned and stood up. I got to my feet, peering through the window, heart thudding as I registered the good news – and the bad news.

It was the right bedroom. Lauren, the Year 7 who'd sort of befriended Jordan after she'd rescued Lauren's boyfriend from a beating a few weeks ago, was sitting on the edge of her bed, head twisted away from us.

But Lauren wasn't alone. Jeremy, the boyfriend, was right next to her, holding her face with a gloved hand, pale lips pressed awkwardly against hers.

Jordan frowned, like she didn't want to break up this beautiful moment, but then she tapped on the window and they sprung apart.

Jeremy looked like he was about to scream, and I shifted my feet, ready to run if he did.

Jordan put a finger to her lips and waved them over.

Jeremy jumped up, stepping toward the bedroom door, but Lauren said something to him and he stopped. She came over and pushed up the window.

‘What are you
doing
here?' she whispered, confirming my fear that this was a bad idea. ‘Haven't you seen the newspaper? They're saying you shot –'

‘No,' Jordan interrupted, ‘Lauren, none of that stuff is true. You have to believe me – we would
never
do something like that.'

‘Obviously,' said Lauren, like she'd been on our side the whole time. ‘What do you need?'

Jeremy stared at her like he didn't think this was
obvious
at all.

‘Food,' said Jordan, ‘as much as you can give us. Nothing perishable. And, please, make sure your parents don't –'

‘Don't worry,' Lauren grumbled. ‘They're out tonight. Meanwhile, I'm stuck babysitting my brother.'

‘Nice babysitting,' I muttered.

Jeremy went red. Jordan punched me in the arm.

‘He's in bed,' said Lauren, hands on her hips. ‘You want my help or not?'

I held up my hands. ‘Sorry.'

‘All right, back in a sec.'

She raced out of the room, Jeremy right behind her, clearly not wanting to be left alone with us.

‘Did you see her mouth?' Jordan asked, when they were gone.

‘Yeah,' I said, leaning back to glance out at the street. The skin on Lauren's lips, and all around her mouth, had been blotchy and pale. Imprinted with Jeremy's skin tone in the places he'd touched her. The same thing had happened to Jordan's hand when she'd helped him up off the ground, back at school. ‘The gloves were a good idea, though.'

I heard a shout from somewhere off in the distance and bobbed down into the shadows. Jordan heard it too, but only glanced over her shoulder.

Nothing to do with us.

I stood up again, leaning on the windowsill next to her.

‘Must be hard,' she said, eyes on the bed where the two of them had been sitting. ‘Trying to figure out a relationship and not even being able to touch each other.'

She had this look on her face like she was talking about more than just Lauren and Jeremy, but then the bedroom door flew open again and Lauren rushed over with a shopping bag stuffed with boxes and cans. Jeremy followed, still wide-eyed.

‘Thanks,' said Jordan, taking the bag. ‘Really. Thank you so much. You're a lifesaver.'

‘And that's probably literal,' I said, trying to make up for my comment before, mouth watering already.

‘You don't have a jumper I could borrow, do you?' Jordan asked. ‘And, I don't know, something for Luke?'

Lauren nodded, dashing to her wardrobe.

I looked over at Jeremy.

‘Sure, yeah, anything,' he said frantically, pulling his hoodie up over his head. ‘Just please don't –'

‘Wait!' I said. ‘This isn't – We're not
robbing
you!'

But he'd already thrown it through the window at me.

Lauren was back too, holding a black cardigan. ‘One of these days, you guys are going to tell me what the heck is really going on here.'

‘Just keep your heads down,' said Jordan, putting her arm through one of the sleeves. ‘Don't do anything to get noticed by the Co-operative.'

Another shout from the street. Closer this time.

And then a voice. ‘Stop right there, young lady.'

Calvin.
I knew he wasn't talking to us, but I stopped moving anyway.

‘You never saw us,' said Jordan.

‘But –'

She looked at Jeremy. ‘And be careful with the skin thing, okay? Don't let Montag see.'

Jordan shut the window and we hit the grass, back down into the shadow of the fence. I started yanking Jeremy's hoodie over my head.

‘No. Get away!' called a girl's voice.

By the time I pulled my head through, Jordan was already crawling to the front of the house. I forced my arms out the sleeves and shot after her.

I could hear footsteps, but there was something weird about them. Too quick for one person, but too even for two people running together. Like a drumbeat.

And then they stopped.

We reached the front yard and ducked behind the fence. There was a girl standing out in the middle of the street. I recognised her from school. She was Korean, in the year above me, and I was pretty sure her name was Amy.

‘Please,' she said, edging backwards up the street, ‘I haven't done anything!'

She was wearing mismatched clothes – jeans, shoes, and a stripy pink pyjama top – like she'd been halfway to bed when they came for her.

‘Of course you haven't,' said Calvin, failing miserably at a sympathetic tone. ‘We're here to
help
you, Miss Park.' He edged toward her, flanked by a couple of his security team.

‘Get away from me!' said Amy. ‘I don't want your help!'

There was something not quite right about her voice. It kept shifting, fast and slow, like someone was messing with it in a computer program. Like the words were speeding up on the way out of her mouth and she had to fight to hold them back.

Calvin held up a hand, stopping the other two guards. He stepped forward on his own. ‘Miss Park, please, you're not well. Dr Montag is waiting to –'

He hesitated as a porch light flashed on across the street. The front door opened and a couple stepped onto the veranda. Ms Benson, our science teacher, and a guy who must have been her husband.

‘Amy? Is everything all right?' Ms Benson asked. Then she caught sight of Calvin. ‘What's going on?'

‘Back inside, please,' said Calvin firmly.

‘Ms Benson!' cried Amy. ‘They're trying to –'

‘
Miss Park!'
Calvin barked. ‘Do not make this any more difficult than it needs to be.'

More lights were coming on now. I saw the blinds go up in the window of another house.

She started backing away again, and I realised she had the same problem with walking as she had with speaking. Her steps were clunky, exaggerated, deliberately slow, as though moving at this speed was unnatural for her.

‘Chief,' Ms Benson tried again, still standing her ground, no idea how dangerous this could all get. ‘Amy's parents are just up the street. If you like, I could –'

Amy whirled around and
ran.

Jordan gasped next to me.

It was like someone had hit fast-forward on the remote. Amy was halfway up the street before I even knew what was happening, quicker than any human being should be able to move.

But somehow, watching her, it was like the most normal thing in the world, as though she was the one travelling at the right speed and it was the rest of us who had a problem. All the clumsiness was gone.
This
was how she was built to move.

Calvin's men sprinted after her, but they didn't have a chance.

More doors began to open. More people coming out to investigate. Calvin quickly put away the fury on his face, and started shooing them back into their houses.

Ms Benson backed inside, a fearful look in her eyes. Calvin was going to have a hard time covering this one up.

‘I've changed my mind,' I whispered. ‘I want them all to believe him that everything's okay.'

Jordan looked at me like I'd
lost
my mind.

But if the whole point of this town was to keep us blindly going on with our lives until Tabitha was released, if it was just to make sure these last hundred days were safe and happy and peaceful …

Then what if weird stuff like this kept happening? What if people started seeing this creepy little Pleasant-ville for what it really was?

What if Shackleton decided there were more important things than keeping the peace?

Chapter 8

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