Authors: Malorie Blackman
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Science Fiction
Thief! (13 page)
They regarded each other for a few moments. Then Lydia nodded.
‘OK,’ she said at last, knowing that she didn’t have much choice. Lydia knew that she wasn’t being fair to Fran. Just because Frankie had let her down, that didn’t mean that Fran was going to do the same. But Lydia felt like deep inside she was holding her breath, just waiting for Fran to do the same thing as her mother.
Frankie’s death . . . Was Daniel Henson responsible for that, too? Lydia sighed, a peculiar, hollow ache inside her. She hoped that she and Frankie had become good friends again. She hoped that very much.
Lydia followed Fran downstairs and into what Lydia assumed was the living room. A huge black table dominated one end of the room. At the other end, closer to the door, were a couple of armchairs and some other kinds of chairs that Lydia had never seen before. They looked like hammocks with backs, perched between cylindrical, metal pedestals. Another huge viewscreen completely covered the wall opposite the door.
‘Dad?’ Fran called out. ‘Dad?’
‘What’s the matter, Fran?’ Fran’s dad appeared behind them, making both Lydia and Fran jump.
‘Dad, I need to ask you something,’ said Fran.
‘Let’s sit down then.’ Fran’s dad followed them into the room.
Lydia tried out one of the hammock chairs. To her surprise it was much more comfortable than it looked. Fran sat next to her dad.
‘Dad, what did the Tyrant do before he bought Hensonville?’ Fran asked.
Fran’s dad glanced quickly from Lydia to his daughter.
‘No one knows,’ he answered. ‘He came from London but that’s about all anyone has been able to find out about him.’
‘Where’s the rest of his family?’ Lydia asked.
She held her breath as she waited for the answer. Fran’s dad shrugged.
‘I don’t know about his parents. He had a sister once but no one knows what happened to her. Why d’you want to know?’
‘I just wondered,’ Lydia whispered.
A dead end. Fran’s dad didn’t know anything about her.
Fran stood up. Lydia followed her lead. But before they’d taken a step, the viewscreen crackled. Without warning, a man’s face and shoulders appeared on the viewscreen. The face by itself was at least two metres high. The man’s lips were turned up in what was supposed to be a smile but the man’s dark eyes were ice-cold. Lydia felt an electric chill shoot down her back. She didn’t recognize the man’s face at all, but looking into his eyes was like looking into a mirror at her own . . .
‘Good evening, citizens of Hensonville!’ the man said. His voice dripped with sarcasm like blood from a vampire’s fangs.
Lydia turned to look at Fran and her father. They both glared at the screen. And the looks on their faces made Lydia’s heart jump in her chest. The air between both of them and the screen almost crackled with their hatred. Lydia’s blood ran cold as she watched. She felt sudden fear. Would Fran keep her promise?
‘It has come to my attention that some of you are still roaming the streets after curfew,’ the man continued with a snake-like smile. ‘Once again let me remind you that if you are caught outside after curfew, you cannot hold me or my Night Guards responsible for the consequences.’
‘Let’s get out of here before I throw up!’ Fran’s dad said with disgust.
Fran turned to Lydia, her eyes narrowed. She tugged at her dad’s arm.
‘Dad . . .’
In that instant every sound and every sight in the world melted away. There was just Lydia and Fran – and what Fran would say next.
‘Dad, can Lydia and I go to Mike’s?’ Fran asked at last.
‘At this time of night?’
‘Please, Dad.’
‘Why?’
‘Lydia and I need to talk to him. It’s urgent.
Please
.’
Please
.’
Fran’s dad looked from Lydia to Fran, then smiled. ‘Oh all right then. But use the tunnels and be careful.’
‘Come on, Lydia.’ Fran smiled.
Lydia slowly smiled back. She followed Fran out into the hall and down into the basement.
‘I thought . . . I thought you were going to tell your dad about me,’ Lydia said at last.
‘I wouldn’t do that,’ said Fran simply.
They entered the tunnels and travelled in silence for several minutes with only the yellow-white beam from Fran’s wrist-watch to light the way. Lydia tried to memorize the route they were taking but in less than two minutes she was totally lost. It was dark and smelly in the tunnels and Lydia wished that the torch in Fran’s watch was a lot stronger. Ahead and behind them the torchlight was quickly swallowed up by shadows and darkness. And it was so quiet.
‘Who’re we going to see?’ Lydia whispered.
‘A friend of mine – Mike Joyce. I don’t know the way to the Henson mansion. Not via the underground tunnels at any rate,’ said Fran. ‘But Mike does.’
‘Will he help me?’
‘I don’t know. Mike’s OK. I don’t like his mum much though. My mum always said she couldn’t be trusted.’
They carried on walking, lapsing into silence. Minutes passed.
‘We’re here,’ Fran whispered at last.
She shone her torch on a ladder that led up to another trapdoor with a keypad beside it. Fran climbed up first. She keyed in several letters of the alphabet before pressing the key. A door swung open.
Once up the ladder, they walked through the basement which was almost identical to the one in Fran’s house. It was filled with junk and discarded furniture so they had to pick their way through it carefully.
At the top of the basement stairs, Fran opened the door which led into the hall. Lydia wrinkled up her nose at the dusty, musty smell. And there was an unpleasant pervasive aroma behind that – kind of like sour milk or food that was just beginning to go off.
They stepped out into the hall which was even more full of clutter than the basement. Broken bits of furniture and machinery were strewn throughout the hall and even old bits of crockery were lying about. In one corner of the hall was something covered with blue-green mould. Lydia decided she’d keep her distance from
that
! It looked like something out of a horror movie. If she got too close, it wouldn’t have surprised her if the mould leaped up and bit her ankle! Mike’s house was a total contrast to Fran’s house.
that
! It looked like something out of a horror movie. If she got too close, it wouldn’t have surprised her if the mould leaped up and bit her ankle! Mike’s house was a total contrast to Fran’s house.
‘They leave the house like this because every time they clear up, the Night Guards arrive and smash the place to pieces again,’ Fran explained.
‘Will they mind us just coming into their house like this?’ Lydia frowned.
‘Mike and I are like brother and sister. In case of emergencies, I have his code and he has mine.’
‘Oh, I see.’
A tall boy with light-brown hair and dark-brown eyes emerged from the living-room. Lydia reckoned he must be about fifteen or sixteen.
‘Oh Fran, it’s you,’ he smiled. Then his smile abruptly vanished. ‘Who’s that?’ The boy pointed to Lydia but didn’t look at her. His eyes never left Fran’s face.
‘Hiya, Mike. This is Lydia. She’s a . . .’
‘Did you come via the tunnels?’ asked Mike.
‘Yeah, but . . .’
‘Fran, you shouldn’t have brought a stranger through the tunnels,’ Mike said coldly. ‘Did you show her my access code?’
‘No, I promise,’ Fran answered quickly. ‘She didn’t see it, did you Lydia?’
Lydia shook her head. Mike turned to look at Lydia for the first time. His eyes narrowed. Lydia looked at Fran, uncertainly. What was wrong with this boy? What was wrong with everyone she’d met so far in Hensonville? Were they this unfriendly with everyone? Was this what the Tyrant had done to them?
Mike scrutinized Lydia without blinking until it was all Lydia could do to stop herself from squirming on the spot.
‘Mike, Lydia is my friend,’ Fran said, pointedly.
Mike relaxed visibly. ‘I’m sorry to be so unwelcoming, but I’m sure you can appreciate why we have to be so careful.’
Lydia nodded but said nothing. She wasn’t sure about Mike.
‘Now that both of you are here, what d’you want?’ Mike asked brusquely.
Lydia and Fran exchanged a look.
‘He’s a real charmer, isn’t he?’ Fran chuckled.
‘Mike! Who’re you talking to?’ A woman’s voice called from up the stairs.
‘Fran and a friend of hers,’ Mike called back.
‘That’s Mike’s mum – Mrs Joyce,’ Fran whispered to Lydia.
A tall, blond woman began to walk down the stairs, her attention focused on tightening her belt around her overall. Before Lydia could do more than glance at her there came a sudden urgent banging on the front door which echoed like thunder all around them.
‘THIS IS THE NIGHT GUARDS. OPEN UP IN THERE!’
‘Fran, Lydia – get lost! Now!’ Mike didn’t mince his words.
Without another word, Fran pulled Lydia into the basement.
‘OK! OK! I’m coming,’ Lydia heard Mrs Joyce call out.
Leaving the door slightly ajar, Fran ran for the trapdoor to the tunnels. But there was no time. Desperately looking around, she ducked down behind a huge box, pulling Lydia after her. Lydia knelt down, careful to make sure that no part of her body could be seen past the box.
‘Squat, don’t kneel. It’s faster to jump up and run that way,’ Fran whispered.
Lydia did as directed, just as heavy footsteps ran into the hall.
‘Mrs Joyce, you’re to come with us,’ a woman’s voice said.
‘Not again,’ Mrs Joyce said wearily.
‘Now!’ the woman commanded.
‘Mike, stay here and take care of things,’ Mrs Joyce said.
Even though her voice was firm, Lydia could hear a slight quiver behind her words.
‘Mum, I . . .’
‘Keep back!’
Mike cried out in sudden agony. Lydia gasped at the sound.
‘Mike!’ Mrs Joyce’s voice was frantic.
‘I’m OK, Mum.’ Mike’s voice gurgled strangely.
‘Come on,’ the woman’s voice ordered.
‘Take your hands off me. I can walk,’ Mrs Joyce said bitterly.
‘Mum, will you . . . ?’
‘Mike, I’ll be OK. Take care,’ Mrs Joyce said softly.
The heavy footsteps retreated and the front door closed. Lydia sprang up. Fran pulled her back down again. Only just in time too. The basement door opened and a strong flashlight shone around the room. Lydia didn’t dare move. She closed her eyes and held her breath. Soft footsteps entered the basement. Lydia bit down hard on her lip to stop herself from crying out. She felt that close to panicking.
‘Nothing upstairs,’ said a man’s voice from outside the basement.
‘It’s clear in here too,’ said a second man, waving his torch around one last time.
Then the footsteps retreated together. Lydia heard the front door open, then close again.
Moments passed. Lydia let out her breath through her mouth in a slow, barely audible hiss.
‘You can come out now,’ Mike said from the door.
Fran and Lydia stood up and ran out of the basement up to the hall. Mike stood against the wall, his left hand leaning against it for support. His right hand held a filthy cloth to his bloody nose.
‘Are you OK?’ Fran asked.
‘I’ll live,’ Mike said bitterly.
‘What was that all about?’ Lydia whispered.
‘The Tyrant, of course. It’s his regular dose of harassment. He hates my mum more than anyone else in this whole town.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know – and Mum won’t tell me.’ Mike leaned his head back against the wall. ‘But every week we go through this. The Tyrant treats my mum like a cat playing with a mouse.’
Lydia swallowed hard.
Don’t let it be Daniel. Let there be some mistake. Please don’t let it be my brother.
Brilliant, gleaming white spread out from Mike’s left hand across the wallpaper like ripples on a pond. The white was so bright it hurt Lydia’s eyes.
‘Fran, what does white mean?’ Lydia asked, pointing to the wallpaper.
‘Anger,’ said Fran.
‘And hate . . .’ Mike added softly.
Chapter Fourteen
Captured!‘Mike, we need your help. Lydia, you explain,’ said Fran.
Mike straightened up and gave his nose one last wipe before throwing the filthy cloth into an already crowded corner of the hall.
Lydia took a deep breath, forcing herself to look away from the wallpaper. ‘I need to get into Daniel Henson’s mansion.’
The silence in the hall could have been cut with a knife. Mike dabbed at his nose with the back of his hand. He sniffed tentatively, then wiped his nose on his sleeve.
‘You’re new to Hensonville, aren’t you?’ he said at last.
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