Urban Outlaws (26 page)

Read Urban Outlaws Online

Authors: Peter Jay Black

BOOK: Urban Outlaws
5.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

A week later, Jack was sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at the TV. The theatre fire had only received a brief mention on the news channels the next day. There was no clue that the world’s most advanced computer had just been destroyed.

The one thing that Jack now realised was that there would be another Proteus. It was only a matter of time. The future was coming, and no one could stop it.

He wondered if the next Proteus would force people to wake up to the reality of the digital age.

No one’s anonymous.

No one’s untraceable.

No one’s safe.

Jack also wondered what had happened to Del Sarto. Was he alive? There was no mention of them pulling any bodies from the charred remains of the theatre.

Charlie moved in front of the TV. ‘Are we going?’

Jack stood and looked at Wren. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet with excitement. ‘Come on then,’ and they strode to the door.

Wren turned back to Slink and Obi. ‘Are you two coming?’

Both of them were concentrating on the computer screen and Slink gave her a dismissive wave. ‘Tell us about it when you get back.’

Jack looked at Charlie and winced.

She reflected his expression, then straightened her face. She hit the button, the door hissed aside, and they strode through the airlock.

An hour later, Jack, Charlie and Wren stood across the road from the old man’s bungalow. At first, Jack had looked around to make sure they were in the right place because the once dilapidated house was now clean and bright. The exterior walls had been rendered and painted, the windows replaced with new double-glazing. The garden had been tidied and the lawn was surrounded by borders filled with flowers. The once graffiti-covered fence had been replaced with a new one.

Wide-eyed, Wren looked up at Jack and Charlie. ‘That letter, and three hundred pounds, did that?’

Jack heard voices coming from the back garden. They crossed the road and peered over the fence. Around twenty people stood in the back garden, all laughing and chatting. One man stood over a barbecue and the smell of steak, burgers and sausages wafted through the air.

The old man who owned the bungalow was sat in a deck chair, chatting to a woman in a pink dress. He was smiling, probably for the first time in years.

‘Hey.’

The three of them jumped and spun around. A girl, in her late teens, stood holding a ketchup bottle.

‘You Mr Jones’s grandkids?’

Jack remembered the old guy was called Mr Jones and shrugged.

‘What’s going on?’ Charlie said.

The girl smiled and held up the ketchup. ‘Barbecue.’

‘No,’ Charlie said, gesturing to the house, ‘I mean -’

‘Who fixed it?’

Jack, Charlie and Wren nodded.

‘Someone anonymous gave Mr Hancock three hundred pounds to do some repairs. When he told other people about it, well,’ she smiled, ‘it kind of snowballed. Everyone got involved, even the local paper wrote about it, and all these donations started coming in.’

Wren looked like she was going to cry.

‘Chloe?’ a woman’s voice called from the other side of the fence.

‘Coming.’ The girl nodded to the garden. ‘You’re welcome to come. We have plenty of food.’ She hurried down the side path.

For a moment, Jack, Charlie and Wren stared at each other.

In a million years, Jack hadn’t expected this. But they couldn’t go to the party. They had something else to do.

As they walked away, Jack thought that maybe there was hope for the world yet.

‘Where are we going now?’ Wren said.

Charlie glanced at Jack. ‘You’ll see.’

•   •   •

The three of them sat on a bench in Battersea Park.

The sun was high, the sky a crystal-clear blue, and children’s laughter filled the air.

They sat opposite a play area filled with swings, slides, sandpits and parents chatting in groups as they kept one eye on their kids.

‘What are we doing here?’ Wren said.

Charlie looked at her watch for the tenth time.

‘Are you sure?’ Jack whispered.

Charlie opened her mouth to answer, then nodded to the other side of the play area.

A man in his early thirties, with short blond hair, opened the gate and ushered in a small boy of around three or four. The boy clutched a plastic digger. He ran to the sandpit and started playing with the other kids, while his dad leant against the fence and watched.

‘That’s him?’ Jack said, still hushed.

Charlie nodded.

‘He looks like a decent guy.’

‘He is.’ Charlie turned to Wren and cleared her throat. ‘We have something to tell you.’ She reached out and took Wren’s hands in hers.

Wren glanced at Jack. ‘OK.’

Charlie looked away for a moment, took a deep breath, then refocused on Wren. ‘We found your dad.’

Wren’s face dropped and she pulled her hands away.

Charlie said, ‘Do you want to meet him?’

For a long while Wren stared at Charlie. Jack thought she wasn’t going to respond at all but, after a while, Wren lifted her chin and said, ‘No.’

Charlie seemed taken aback. ‘Why not?’

Wren looked down and picked at her fingers as she spoke. ‘I never stop thinking about him. I wonder what he looks like, where he lives, what he does –’ Wren’s voice cracked. She took a moment to compose herself, then continued. ‘Do I have brothers and sisters? Does he think of me? Does he miss me?’

‘But,’ Charlie said in a soft voice, ‘you can find all those things out for yourself.’

Wren kept her eyes lowered. ‘I can’t forgive him yet.’

‘Can’t forgive him for what?’

Wren swallowed. ‘For leaving. For not coming back to rescue me.’

Charlie glanced at Jack, then back to Wren. ‘He’s been trying to find you. He wants to see you.’

Wren said in a small voice, ‘I don’t think I can take it again, the pain.’ She looked away, and a tear rolled down her cheek. ‘
You’re
my family.’

Charlie stroked Wren’s hair. ‘But you have a chance at a real life,’ she said. ‘You can be happy, if you want to be.’ Charlie took a deep breath. ‘Will you at least think about it?’

Wren nodded.

•   •   •

Back at the bunker, Jack rechecked his bag and zipped it up. He looked around. ‘Everyone ready?’

Charlie strode into the room, her hood pulled up, her bag strapped to her belt. ‘You know, we’re likely to get caught on this mission, don’t you?’

Jack nodded. ‘Easy is boring though, right?’

They smiled at each other.

‘Guys,’ Slink said, stuffing rope into his backpack. ‘You seen my shoulder cam?’

Charlie tossed a small bag to him.

‘Everything running?’ Jack called to Obi.

Obi gave him a thumbs-up. ‘Not gonna know what hit ’em.’

Jack, Charlie and Slink strode to the door.

‘Wait for me.’

They turned back. Wren ran up to them, with her black hoodie pulled up and a bandana loose around her neck.

Charlie grinned. ‘Remember,’ she said, ‘if –’

‘Yeah, I know,’ Wren said, ‘if something goes wrong, I’ve gotta get out of there as fast as I can.’ She looked at Jack as if to say that would never happen.

Jack thought if there was ever a definition of what an Urban Outlaw was, then Wren was it. He leant into her ear and said, ‘I promise I’ll use you in every mission from now on.’ He stood straight and Wren smiled. Jack looked between them all. ‘Ready, team?’

They all nodded.

Jack turned to the door, hit the button and it hissed open.

Slink and Wren ran through.

‘Wait,’ Obi called.

They turned back to look at him.

Obi’s hands shook.

Jack felt his stomach sink. ‘What’s wrong?’

Obi spun a monitor to face them. It showed a breaking news headline –
Panic As London’s Power Grid Infected
.

Wren frowned. ‘Infected by what?’

‘Oh, no.’ Jack knew exactly what had happened. He looked at the others. ‘The
virus
. It escaped.’

THE URBAN OUTLAWS

 

 

 

HACKER NAME:
ACHILLES

REAL NAME
: JACK FENTON

AGE:
15

SPECIAL SKILL:
HACKING

LIKES:
PHYSICS

DISLIKES:
DUBSTEP

GREATEST FEAR:
HEIGHTS

 

 

HACKER NAME:
PANDORA

REAL NAME
: CHARLOTTE CAINE

AGE:
15

SPECIAL SKILL:
MAKING GADGETS

LIKES:
COMPUTER GAMES

DISLIKES:
GROSS HABITS

GREATEST FEAR:
FIRE

 

 

 

HACKER NAME:
OBI

REAL NAME
: JOSEPH HARLINGTON

AGE:
14

SPECIAL SKILL:
SURVEILLANCE

LIKES:
CONSPIRACY THEORIES

DISLIKES:
SALAD!

GREATEST FEAR:
ANYTHING THAT CRAWLS

 

Other books

Sally James by A Clandestine Affair
The Art of Jewish Cooking by Jennie Grossinger
Sicilian Nights Omnibus by Penny Jordan
Frag Box by Richard A. Thompson
The Kill Shot by Nichole Christoff