The Hunting (30 page)

Cary looked at him and understood and felt a lot better about things.

‘You think teleportation will catch on?’ Cary asked.

Marshall laughed. ‘Ask Genie and, for God’s sake, tell her to slow down.’

R
everend Schneider had known things were going wrong hours earlier. Strindberg hadn’t gotten control, and finding Genie Magee was just impossible; she was everywhere, but nowhere. And he knew that this time it wouldn’t be kept quiet and they’d be looking for someone to blame.

Which was why he was anxiously looking at his watch and waiting for the next flight out of Vancouver.

He’d seen the sub-stations explode in Whistler, seen the power go out across half of B.C. and he hadn’t waited. The airport had its own power source, flights were still coming in and leaving, and he aimed to be on the very next international flight. He didn’t even care where, but as luck would have it, it was La Paz, Mexico, and he had friends there.

There was a small bank account down there too. Not much, but enough to get by for a while. The church would have to do without him. Been meaning to give it up anyway; business had dropped off considerably since the kids reappeared and sowed suspicion in the town. Not everyone believed the alien story – certainly not the parents who’d lost their kids twice – and he knew there were stories being told about him about town.

It was time to go. Good timing was everything when things went bad.

‘Reverend Schneider?’ a voice called out.

He looked up. It was Vince, Fortransco Head of Security.

‘Not thinking of going anywhere, are you, Reverend?’ The menace in his voice froze Schneider’s heart.

Game over.

He began to sweat. Wondered briefly if he could run for it. His flight had just been given a gate.

‘Conference,’ he told the man. ‘Just a few days in Cabo San Lucas.’ He began to shake. Vince had been known to crush a man’s neck to a pulp in a disagreement. Everyone was afraid of him.

Vince smiled and sat next to him. Reverend Schneider noticed that he too had a small overnight case with him.

‘Cuba,’ Vince said, tapping his ticket. ‘Since they discovered all that oil, they need more security. Good offer, couldn’t refuse.’

Reverend Schneider also remembered that there was no extradition from Cuba either. The police wouldn’t be able to get him there.

‘You speak Spanish?’ he asked the man.

‘Learning, learning,’ he smiled.

Reverend Schneider stood up on shaky legs. ‘My flight …’

Vince nodded. ‘I wouldn’t hurry back, if I were you.’

Reverend Schneider turned, his heart beating wildly and sweat trickling down the insides of his shirt. He walked away towards the Departures door. Wondering if the man had been joking and would pounce before he got to Customs. Nothing happened. He daren’t look back, but he noted wryly that neither of them had chosen to teleport to their destinations.

Strindberg was at home. The lights were on, the Sunshine Coast wasn’t affected by the power meltdown. He’d been shocked at the damage as he’d flown over the resort. Substations on fire, the power surge had fried circuits everywhere and it would take weeks, months to get it all back to normal.

He was burning. He had a grand fireplace, big enough for four big logs at a time. But burning now were papers, documents, photos, any and everything that connected him to Fortress teleport experiments. It was a good fire. An expensive fire.

His cell rang. Probably for the twentieth time in an hour.

He’d heard about the problems at the Fortress. The entire nightshift test transmission team obliterated. A terrible accident. There would have to be an investigation, it would cost yet more money. Fortunately they had signed documents that absolved the company of liabilities in case of human error and this would be human error, most certainly human error.

‘Strindberg.’

‘Do you have power?’ The Night Operations Chief at Synchro asked him.

‘Yes. We haven’t been affected here.’

‘Then I suggest you take a look at YouTube. Type in “The Fortress”. The whole thing’s gone viral.’

‘Viral? YouTube? Isn’t that some teen thing – music videos and stuff?’

‘Take a look, Mr Strindberg, and then maybe you might want to leave town. I think quite a lot of people are leaving …’

‘What? What the hell’s going on? First Radspan comes back to haunt us, then this accident – what’s going on?’ Strindberg demanded to know.

‘Just so you know, sir, the All Seasons is going to be a total write-off. Everyone was evacuated, as far as we know, but it’s burning out. With the power being out and the underground fire – there’s no water pressure for the fire department. We will be lucky if it doesn’t spread.’

‘The whole hotel?’ Strindberg couldn’t believe it. It was his best money-spinner.

‘And you might want to see if your insurance policy mentioned it was built over an unstable power source, sir.’

The Synchro chief hung up. Strindberg stared at the fire. What the hell else could go wrong?

He walked over to his laptop, already online. He searched for:
The Fortress
.

YouTube Videos Being Watched Right Now

He didn’t even have to search. There were five listed right at the top with
Genie Magee
,
Cary Harrison
,
Denis Malone
,
Dr Milan
and more
Radspan Test Transmisisons
.

He’d get them removed, he’d sue, he’d soon stop this.

His cell rang again. It was Vince, his Head of Security.

‘Hi, Mr Strindberg.’

‘Have you seen YouTube?’ Strindberg exploded. ‘Have you seen what someone has put up there’?

‘Yes, sir. Have you seen how many there are? It’s gone viral, sir. That’s why I’m calling, sir. You’ll need a new Head of Security.’

Strindberg was astonished. ‘You’re quitting?’

‘Quit, sir.’

‘But we’re in meltdown – Radspan, the hotel, the chaos …’

‘Yes, sir. I think you’ll need a new PR company, sir, as well.’

Strindberg could hear a flight being called. The man was already at the airport!

‘You bastard, you—’

But he was talking to himself.

He disconnected and his phone immediately rang again. He answered, irritated beyond belief now.

‘Yes – and this better be good news.’

All he heard was mocking laughter on the other end. Sounded a lot like some kid.

He stood there, in his mansion, beside his log fire and everything he knew was going up in flames with it, the laughter pierced by the sound of Dr Milan’s voice on YouTube speaking. ‘Test three thousand five – a healthy three-year-old Labrador called Max.’

T
hey had to get off the highway a mile out of Squamish. Fire engines, cops, ambulances were racing at top speed in convoy towards Whistler. They watched them go by, Genie feeling a tad guilty. It was all her fault. People in Whistler would suffer.

‘We need to get off this road,’ Marshall told her. ‘Take the next right. Keep it slow. There’s the hotel overlooking the water.’

‘Hotel?’ Renée queried. Marshall didn’t answer. He was coughing again; the smoke was still in his lungs. Genie set off again, there were way too many cops on this road for her liking; it was way too risky to be driving. She took the first right. They passed some people sitting outside their homes lit by camper lights. Each one of them with a shotgun ready in case, carefully eyeballing them as they drove by. No one said anything, but each of them in the truck realized that this was not the best night to be looking for somewhere to crash for free.

‘Here?’ Genie asked, confused, as they pulled up outside a hotel.

‘It’s abandoned. Went belly up in the crash. Guy who owned it was a friend of my son’s. It’s going to be auctioned off.’

‘We just break in?’

‘The power’s out so I doubt alarms are going to work and, even if they did, no one is going to respond tonight. I’m not saying there’s warm beds to go to, but it’s empty and they won’t look for you guys here.’

‘I’ll get us in,’ Rian said. ‘Drive round the back, Genie. No need for anyone to see the truck.’

Genie had thought of this already. She backed up and drove around.

‘We need sleep and a plan. Sleep first,’ Marshall told them. ‘Strindberg will work things out eventually and he’ll make it his business to hunt you down. So we need to be clever. But right now, with everything in chaos, we can afford to sleep.’

The kids looked at him and agreed. They were exhausted.

Genie parked up and Rian got out. Genie grabbed Mouch, who was ready to follow him. ‘Wait.’

He approached the five-storey building, a small budget hotel by the look of it. He looked for something to break a window with. He didn’t like to do this, but they had broken enough laws already, what the hell was one more?

The sliding door to the ground-floor swimming pool was unlocked. It was stiff but he slid it open and entered. The smell wasn’t good; he felt his eyes water from the fumes. The pool water had been drained, but someone had been using it to dump their waste. It stank. Not a good sign.

The door to the hotel lobby was likewise unlocked. He just hoped the rest of the hotel hadn’t been trashed. If kids knew this was open, they’d get in to party and trash it for sure. He wondered how much looting was going on across B.C. Everyone always said how civilized Canada was but there would always be someone who’d take advantage. It was very dark now and he was wary; he had to feel his way along.

He found a flashlight behind the reception desk. Remarkably, it still worked.

Keys to the rooms were all in a slide-out drawer. Everything was surprisingly neat and tidy.

He took keys for the ground-floor suites. He checked the first room. There were beds, mattresses still wrapped in plastic. Bedding likewise. This was all brand new. Untouched. The hotel didn’t look like it ever even opened.

He went back to the guys in the truck.

‘Don’t even think of looking in the swimming pool,’ he told them. ‘Grab your things. We have rooms.’

They cheered.

Genie took a room with Rian but, although exhausted, neither of them could sleep they were so tense. He opened the sliding door to air the room and they stood close together outside under the brilliant stars.

‘It’s so beautiful. Everything is so much prettier without streetlights. Reminds me of the farm. Look, see a shooting star.’

Rian nuzzled her ear. ‘My wish already came true.’

She smiled, enjoying his hot breath on her neck.

‘What are we going to do, Ri?’

‘Think about that tomorrow.’

Genie frowned. ‘We going to run for ever? You think Marshall’s right? Strindberg is going to want revenge?’

Rian sighed. ‘I guess. I don’t know. I just want to make sure we stay together and you don’t keep having to go places. I worry every time you disappear. Makes me ill, Gen. That time you nearly froze. I felt so bad. There was nothing I could do. Nothing.’

Genie turned and hugged him, kissing his shoulder. She wanted to promise never to disappear again, but how could she keep a promise that would always be broken?

‘Just always be there when I come back to you, Ri. Just be there.’

She could see the canopy of stars reflected in the glass window. She felt comforted by them. This was all she had ever wanted. A boy who loved her and a carpet of stars to sleep under.

Rian felt her fall asleep in his arms then scooped her up and took her back to the bed. He closed the door and locked it. He looked back up at the stars. Genie was right. They had to think about what they were going to do. It definitely wasn’t over.

He lay beside her and held her tight. He felt fear, love and not a little anger. All he wanted to do was protect her. It was hard.

It was a sunny morning. Genie stared at herself in the mirror. She’d slept fitfully, scared someone would discover them, and uncomfortable on the plastic-covered mattress. She would have dearly loved a shower but they just had to be happy that the toilets flushed. Rian slept on. She noticed on rising that he had burns on his face and arms. He’d never complained but they had to hurt.

Julia was sitting on the edge of the bath, watching her. She had a headache and she had come looking for Genie hoping that one of them, at least, had some pills to take it away.

Genie glanced at her face again. Was she still Genie Magee? Her hair was growing but so was the white streak. She just knew she’d be for ever called skunk head when people saw her. It was clear across her head now and shockingly white.

‘Can you dye white hair? I mean, I read something that it doesn’t take. I’m sixteen, Julia. I can’t possibly have white hair, for God’s sake.’

Julia said nothing. She felt Genie’s hair and pointed to her own shaved head and signalled that she was worried about what would happen to her when it grew back – if indeed it grew back.

Genie put an arm around her and rubbed her bald head.

‘Come on, we have to go through.’

Julia looked reluctant to leave the bathroom.

Genie took her hand. ‘They’re your friends, OK. It won’t matter, really. And talk to Marshall. He lost his leg, remember. I mean, that must have been a shock. He’ll tell you about who to talk to …’ Genie blushed. Suddenly realizing that was a mean thing to say. Poor Julia was going to be talking to anyone.

‘Sorry …’

But Julia shook her head. This was something she was going to have to live with in future.

Genie opened the bathroom door. Rian had gone, probably to find another bathroom, she’d been in there so long.

Cary had gone out with Renée earlier to Mac’s convenience store, which was selling everything previously chilled at half price before it went off, and attracting a local crowd. They’d come away with milk, coffee, cereal, eggs, cookies and a choice of breads. Way too much. They’d even built a little fire outside to boil the water and fry some eggs. Now everyone was in the hotel kitchen eating breakfast, except Miho. Renée was in charge and making sure everyone ate.