Split Second (14 page)

‘Hurry up,’ Taylor said. ‘Are you in the room?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Charlie was already through the second door on the left.

I hurried after her. We were in some sort of home office, with a TV screen on the wall, a couple of armchairs and a long desk containing two computers.

‘Go to the Mac,’ Taylor ordered. ‘Switch it on. You have six minutes and thirty seconds before the alarm sounds.’

Charlie found the on-switch straight away. Taylor was giving instructions about the password, then the file he wanted her to find. Charlie was nodding, her fingers flying over the keys. If
I’d been in her place I was sure I’d have found it impossible to focus and would probably have missed half of Taylor’s rapid fire orders. But Charlie was concentrating without any
problem, following Taylor’s complex set of inputs in order to cut through the computer’s encryption codes.

‘Nat?’ Taylor sounded impatient, as if he’d already called my name once.

‘Yes,’ I said quickly. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Get the memory stick ready. Four minutes and forty seconds.’

I fished in my pocket for the stick then handed it to Charlie. She slid it expertly into place. I bent closer to the screen to see what she was downloading. It looked like some sort of calendar.
Each date was filled with appointment names and times. Most of the entries were written in code. I couldn’t make head nor tail of them. I was suddenly aware of how close I was standing to
Charlie and took a step away.

‘Four minutes and ten seconds.’ Taylor’s voice was terse. ‘How’s it going, guys?’

‘Good,’ Charlie said. She still sounded amazingly calm. ‘Almost there. Done.’ She pulled the memory stick out of the computer and handed it to me. I pocketed it while
Charlie followed Taylor’s instructions for covering her tracks as she closed the various files she had opened. At last she stood up. ‘All done, sir.’

‘Two minutes and thirty seconds,’ Taylor hissed in our ears. ‘Get out of there.’

Charlie sped out into the corridor. I was about to hurry after her, when a photograph lying on top of a pile of papers caught my eye. I peered closer. The photo was of a boy walking along a
street – and grainy, as if it had been taken through a long lens. The boy was about my own age and clearly unaware he was being photographed. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t
place him.

‘Come on,’ Charlie whispered from the door.

I turned away from the photo. Silently, we rushed along the corridor and down the stairs.

‘Where are you?’ Taylor demanded.

‘Ground floor,’ I said. ‘Almost.’

‘Get a move on. You have less than a minute to get outside the front gate.’

We raced towards the small bathroom again. A green scarf on a coat rack by the door caught my eye. It had a strange, criss-crossing black and brown pattern along the bottom. I couldn’t
remember the name of it, but I was sure this was the symbol the League used as their logo.

‘You should be outside the gate by now.’ Taylor swore softly under his breath. ‘What the hell are you doing? The alarm will go off in forty seconds, thirty-nine, thirty-eight .
. .’

‘On our way, sir,’ I said.

Together we raced into the bathroom. Taylor was still counting as I followed Charlie out of the window we’d climbed through earlier. ‘Twenty-five seconds, twenty-four seconds . .
.’

‘We’re out,’ I said, breathless.

‘Shut the window. Right to the bottom,’ Taylor hissed. ‘Then run.’

We pressed down on the sill, but it was stuck.

‘Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen . . .’

Panic rose like vomit into my throat. ‘Come on,’ I hissed, tensing every muscle.

With a final shove the sill slid down into place.

‘Eleven. Ten.’

‘Done,’ I said.

‘Get through the gate,’ Taylor said. ‘Nine . . . eight . . . seven . . .’

We raced across the gravel drive. The electronic gate was starting to close. I grabbed Charlie’s hand, pulling her along. Faster. Taylor’s voice echoed in my ear.

‘Five . . . four. . . three . . .’

We squeezed through the closing gate just in time. It clanged shut behind us. As we ran up to the van, the door swung open.

‘Get in,’ Taylor ordered.

I followed Charlie inside and we sank, panting, onto the floor of the van. Taylor thumped on the panel that separated the back of the van from the driver’s cab. We sped off.

‘Where is it?’ Taylor demanded.

I took the stick and handed it over. While Taylor inserted it into the laptop in front of him, I sat back and snatched a look at Charlie. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling.

Taylor examined the contents of the memory stick. ‘This is good,’ he muttered.

‘What does it say, sir?’ I asked.

Taylor looked up. ‘Classified, but it’s all useful info on the League of Iron,’ he said with a smile.

‘Is that all you’re going to tell us?’ Charlie asked.

‘Is it another bomb?’ I added.

‘Classified,’ Taylor repeated. ‘And call me
sir.
’

‘What?’ Charlie sounded outraged. ‘We just risked our necks for you. You owe us more than a freakin’ “classified”.’

‘That’s enough.’ Taylor narrowed his eyes. ‘And you
will
call me
sir.
’

‘Fine.’ Charlie folded her arms. ‘Tell us what we want to know.
Sir.
’

Taylor shook his head. ‘There are plans here but we need to process the codes properly. Once we’ve done that and I’ve debriefed the Commander, then we’ll see . .
.’

‘See what?’ I frowned.

‘See if the Commander thinks you’re ready for training. Once you’ve completed basic induction, you’ll be assigned a cell. Then you’ll be trained up for missions, at
which point I’ll be able to tell you not only what the League of Iron and others are planning, but how we’re going to stop them.’

‘What does that mean: “a cell”?’ Charlie asked.

‘We operate in small groups called cells,’ Taylor explained. ‘It means every group is independent, so there’s limited risk of security breaches between groups. It makes
it less likely that anyone outside the Army will find out what we’re doing.’

He handed Charlie a phone similar to the one he’d given me before. ‘You’ll be contacted on this. Keep it safe and don’t use it to make or take any other calls.’

‘When will you call us?’ she asked.

‘Soon. We replace the phones once a month,’ Taylor said. ‘We never use the same transport twice or accommodation for more than three months at a time. Each support cell
contains someone who deals with all that stuff – admin – then there’s someone working on comms . . . communications . . . which is everything from fake IDs to IT
manipulation.’ He paused. ‘Everyone else is an active or sleeping agent, trained in combat situations so they can defend themselves in event of attack. We only fight in self-defence but
sometimes that means lying our way into situations and, occasionally, using force too. So we need front line soldiers, especially for the new youth army. And that will be you, if the Commander
agrees.’

‘Do you think he’ll agree?’ Charlie sat back against the steel van wall. Her voice was carefully even. ‘I mean, will you recommend us?’

Taylor paused for a moment, then a rare grin spread across his face. ‘Hell yes,’ he said. ‘You’ll make the best cadets I’ve ever met.’

I looked down at my lap. I didn’t want either Taylor or Charlie to see but inside I was glowing with pride. After being so scared earlier, the fact that Taylor rated me was beyond
brilliant. Lucas’s face with its lopsided grin flashed before my mind’s eye. If only he could see me now.

‘Thanks,’ I mumbled.

Across the van, Charlie said nothing.

Taylor dropped us at a point halfway between our houses. We each hurried home alone. Adrenaline was still pumping through my body. After being so close to one of the League of
Iron leaders . . . actually in their house . . . I was more determined than ever to get revenge for Mum’s death. And joining the EFA was clearly the best way to do just that. I didn’t
buy into Taylor’s ‘we only use violence in self-defence’ line. From what I’d seen so far, Taylor was quite prepared to lash out when it suited him. But if it brought me
closer to taking my revenge I didn’t really care.

There was something else too . . . I didn’t want to admit it, but the truth was I’d enjoyed breaking into that house just now. It had been exciting, a thrill. I’d liked being
part of an efficient team and Taylor had talked me through every step of that complicated computer job with a calm focus I couldn’t help but respect. I wasn’t sure what that said about
me. Maybe just that my life since Mum died had felt small and dull.

I reached Gail and Brian’s house and let myself in. I could see Gail through the kitchen door, chopping vegetables for supper. I was in no mood to talk, but I knew that if I didn’t
at least show my face she would pester me later, asking if I was okay, so I made myself cross the hall and stick my head around the door.

‘Hello,’ I said.

‘Hi, Charlie, love,’ Gail said, looking up with a smile from her pile of carrots.

I smiled back, then ducked out of the kitchen and went upstairs to my bedroom. In contrast to what we’d just done, life here seemed very boring. As I lay down on the bed my head spun
wondering exactly what the EFA training Taylor had talked about would involve. I took
Charlotte’s Web
off the shelf and curled up on the bed. Just holding the book – one Mum
had loved so much she named me after it – felt comforting. But I didn’t want to read. I was too excited, so close to getting my revenge on the people who had killed Mum.

I switched on my new laptop. I felt all fired up by the mission Nat and I had just undertaken, and determined to try and find out more about the country’s political situation, especially
the League of Iron. But all I came across was a video from a local news programme on which the Mayor of London, Jason Latimer, was being interviewed by a reporter. It was funny seeing him on screen
after having listened to him talk at the memorial service. I tried to focus on what he was saying – some cliché about Londoners having to pull together and show ‘Blitz
spirit’ in the face of the cuts. I lost interest after a few moments and switched off the video. In the end, all politicians were the same. The Mayor was just as big a hypocrite as the rest
of them.

I looked around for Nat the next day when Rosa and I arrived at school. He was in our house room, on time for registration for once. He was deeply engrossed in some textbook and didn’t
notice me come in. I felt a twinge of disappointment. Then I noticed Rosa watching me and scuttled away to my locker.

Nat and I barely spoke for the rest of that day, nor the next three that followed. We didn’t sit together in any of our shared lessons and he never came up to me during break times either.
I wasn’t sure why he felt it was so important to keep his distance. I guess if people had seen him chatting to me it would have caused gossip. And yet I couldn’t help wishing Nat felt
the same bond that I did after our house-breaking adventure. But Nat was clearly locked up in his own life. It was obvious that after letting me use him to push my way into the EFA, he now
didn’t want anything to do with me.

I tried to tell myself I didn’t care.

But I knew, deep inside, that I did.

Taylor called on the Tuesday evening of the following week. It was mid-November and, after weeks of mild weather, the days had turned cold and damp. I was alone in my room, as usual, when I felt
the phone he had given me vibrate in my pocket. I had taken to carrying it everywhere with me. Just in case.

‘Hello?’ I said

‘You’ve been accepted into the English Freedom Army.’ Taylor’s voice was crisp and businesslike.

Yes.
I grinned to myself. ‘Great,’ I said.

‘Induction training is in three weeks,’ Taylor went on. ‘You need to make some excuse to get away. Friday after school till Sunday morning. Get it sorted and text me when
you’re clear.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Taylor rang off. I hesitated, then sent Nat a text:
Did he call u?

Five minutes later Nat sent a text back:
Yes. I’m in. U?

So Nat was going to take part in this EFA training weekend too. Well, it didn’t matter what he did. I was only interested in revenge on the League of Iron.

I sent Nat another text:
Yes.

And then I started thinking about how on earth I was going to get away from home for most of a weekend, without anyone realising what I was doing.

The last week before the training weekend crept by. Every day was wet and gloomy. I hated the lack of light even more than the constant rain. It made the house feel like a
tomb: empty, cold and dark. Meanwhile, Mum was as distracted as ever and Dad was staying at work later and later every night. At least that meant it would be easy for me to slip away unnoticed. I
was planning to leave a note explaining that I was going to a party and staying with one of Callum’s friends. My only worry was Jas. Apart from the fact that she might well bump into Callum
himself over the weekend and wonder why I wasn’t with him, she had a habit of knowing when I was lying. I could often tell when she wasn’t being honest either. It was a twin thing.

I had hardly spoken to Charlie since we broke into that League of Iron member’s house. She had made no effort to talk to me either. Which was good. Excellent, in fact. It meant we were
linked only by our desire for revenge on the League of Iron. I liked that – it was clear-cut and straightforward.

It was Thursday morning and I was in my house room at school. Taylor sent a text instructing me to be waiting outside the Featherstone Road building site on Friday at seven p.m. He was going to
pick us up and take us to the training venue. I looked up. Had Charlie received the same message? Across the room, I could see her peering down at her own mobile. As she straightened up she gazed
around and I knew instinctively that she was looking for me. I kept my eyes on her until she found me. I raised my eyebrows. She nodded.

A mix of excitement and fear thrilled through me – along with a ridiculous desire to impress her. I looked down again, telling myself not to be such an idiot.