Louder Than Words Read online

  ‘Dillon was looking for a hacker because Tyler didn’t have the skills to do what they had planned, so he sent you out to hook me in and you played your part, is that about it?’

  Her voice was impassive, a frozen desert. ‘Yes.’

  ‘So your boyfriend used you like that and you let him.’

  ‘It was for the cause. That is more important than personal loyalties. Sacrifices have to be made.’

  ‘Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.’

  ‘I believe in what we are fighting for.’

  ‘I know you do. But I want to know about the girl you pretended to be, that girl who wouldn’t take any messing from anyone, that tough fighter. I don’t buy that she’d let herself be used like that. She believed, yes, but she’d have found another way. She’d have seen what a user Dillon is and not bought into that. Was none of her real? Or is she what you want to be when you grow up?’ He stood up to leave.

  ‘I need to know where you stand with the group!’

  So that’s why she was really here. ‘I stand nowhere, Lara. It’s over. I don’t ever want to see any of you again.’

  ‘Dillon thinks you might betray us.’

  ‘I really couldn’t be bothered to.’

  ‘You never believed in it, did you?’

  ‘I believed in some of it. I just didn’t believe in Dillon’s way. But I believed in you.’ Then he turned on his heel and left.

  She got her phone out as soon as he had gone. I stayed hidden and strained my ears to hear.

  ‘He says he can’t be bothered to inform on us . . . yeah, that’s pretty much all he said. I don’t think he’s a threat . . . Don’t you believe me? Don’t you think I can judge?’

  There was a long pause.

  ‘So why can’t you tell me what you’ve got planned? Why am I always left out of the loop? . . . I bet Katrin knows, doesn’t she?

  Another pause, shorter this time, then . . .

  ‘Oh go to hell!’

  When I risked a peek round the seat, Lara was slumped across the table, her head in her arms, the phone lying beside her. I scooted back. What was going on?

  When I risked another peek, she’d left.

  I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw.

  (William Shakespeare)

  CHAPTER 58

  Josie was cooking tea for her dad when his work mobile rang. He left the papers he was reading on the sofa and hurried to the table to grab it.

  ‘Yes?’

  He paced up and down, listening intently.

  ‘That’s great news . . . which one? Dillon?’

  Josie nearly dropped the saucepan in shock.

  ‘Oh right . . . never mind, this Tyler will lead us to him if we take this carefully . . . yes, I’m coming in now!’

  He rang off. ‘Put mine in the fridge and I’ll heat it up when I get home. I’ve got to go back into work. The boys have just arrested an important suspect and I need to liaise with the Security Services.’

  He was out of the house and driving through the gates within five minutes.

  It could be coincidence, Josie told herself. And then she noticed the papers he’d left scattered on the sofa. She went to tidy them and caught sight of the name ActionX.

  Josie sank down on to the sofa, her hand over her mouth, and began to read.

  Meanwhile, round at my house, Silas was pulling on his coat with me grabbing at his sleeve to hold him back.

  ‘Rafi, pack it in! I’ll be fine. It’s OK.’

  But it wasn’t OK. It wasn’t OK at all. I’d seen the text come through on his phone. It was from Lara, saying she wanted him to come and meet her, naming a place, saying she’d left Dillon for good. I had to stop him going. I tried pulling him back, but he was too strong and he prised my fingers from his arm.

  ‘Stop it! What is wrong with you? I need to see her. I need to know if she really has left him!’

  All my fear for him, my hate for her, my frustration at not being able to tell him why this was so wrong all built as he wriggled free and ran to the door.

  I screamed.

  He spun round, mouth open.

  I. Made. Noise.

  It stopped him. He stared in shock.

 

  ‘It’s not a trap.’

  I stood in front of the door.

  He sighed. ‘OK, I’ll cover my back. Will that make you happy?’ He ran upstairs and came down with a piece of paper and a pen. He leaned on the wall and scribbled some instructions. ‘If the police are there, I’ll text you. And then you need to wipe my computer. The only way to destroy the evidence that I was doing any hacking is to run this program. It’ll clear everything. It’s in the middle of my desktop – it’s called Goodbye, picture of a skull and crossbones. I’ve had it there since I knew they were after me, just in case.’ He gave me the paper and grabbed my shoulders. ‘Now let me go.’ And he moved me away from the door. ‘The password is on the paper. Burn the paper afterwards.’

  And then he was gone and I was left shaking in the hallway. As soon as I could pull myself together, I texted Josie.

  She took longer than I expected to respond, but then and she was at my door in a couple of minutes.

  ‘What’s up?’

 

  ‘Something Lara-stupid?’

  I nodded furiously.

  ‘He’s not gone to see her? Rafi, we’ve got to stop him. Dad’s just been called into work. He left some briefing papers by accident because he was in a rush. They’re using the info Deef gave them to bust ActionX at their new place today. He took a phone call and I overheard – they’ve got Tyler. They’re going to use him to get Dillon. If Silas is there . . .’

  I texted her quickly to explain where he’d gone.

  ‘Rafi, that’s miles away. We’ll never catch up with him on a bus, and really we need to be there before him in case the police have already found them. We need to head him off!’

  I pleaded with her silently to find a solution.

  ‘Do you know anyone with a car? No, stupid question. Me neither, not any more . . .’ And then the thought struck her and she looked at me in panic. ‘Oh God, oh God, oh God . . .’

  What?

  ‘My dad will kill me for this if he ever finds out . . .’

  What???

  ‘Come on!’

  I followed her as she sprinted back to her house. By the time I’d caught up, she was emerging with a set of car keys. She opened the door of her dad’s old VW Golf – the one that was going to be hers. I gasped.

  ‘Get in.’

  I climbed into the passenger seat. She could see the question on my face.

  ‘Lloyd taught me,’ she said. ‘Like I said, I was stupid when I was with him. And if it wasn’t for your brother, I would so not be doing this.’ Her hands were shaking on the wheel, but she pulled off without stalling and by the time we got out on to the main road, I thought it was possible that I might not die. We drove through the night in silence, following the directions on the satnav, Josie concentrating as hard as she could on the road ahead.

  She cursed as she missed the junction on the roundabout and had to go all the way round again. ‘What time is it now? No, never mind . . . I can’t go any faster or I’ll lose control. I just hope we’re in time.’

  It seemed like forever before we arrived at a deserted industrial estate. ‘So this is it,’ Josie said, ‘but where is he? He could be anywhere. Didn’t she give any more instructions?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Hmm, she probably sent him more while he was on the way,’ Josie said, getting out of the car. ‘Come on, let’s look around.’

  We huddled close to the wall of one of the units and crept round the side.

  Nothing. No sign of life. So we tried slinking across the car park to the next building, but there was still no one in sight.

  ‘Never mind,’ Josie said g
rimly, ‘we’ll find him if we have to check every one of these buildings.’

  I looked around – there were loads. This could take ages and we didn’t have ages – the police could already be on their way. What if Tyler had spilled it all straight away? Deef said he was mad with Dillon.

  Josie nudged me in the ribs and pointed. Over at the next unit, figures appeared, coming from across the car park: Dillon, Lara and two others – a man and a woman. We flattened ourselves against the building and edged around the corner out of sight.

  ‘OK, so Silas isn’t with them. Where is he? He must be here by now,’ Josie whispered.

  I peeked out. They were carrying stuff, bags, a crowbar . . .

  And then they stopped in the car park near the door of the unit we were hiding behind. Josie and I crept around the back and along the other side until we were close enough to hear what they were saying.

  ‘Is someone going to tell me now what the hell is going on?’ Lara demanded. ‘What were you guys doing in that warehouse? Why did I have to stand guard outside?’

  ‘We’ve been busted once today,’ Dillon snapped, putting a large canvas bag down on the ground. ‘You want us to get busted again? Isn’t it enough that the filth got Ty?’

  ‘But what were you doing in there?’

  Dillon chuckled. ‘Getting back to basics, that’s what. OK, Jez, fill her in. This is your mission.’

  ‘Remember that charity sack scam?’ Jez asked, passing the crowbar to Dillon while he packed up his bag again. ‘This is their base, where they collect all the donations. And we’ve just set . . . well, a little bonfire.’ He grinned hugely. ‘In a few minutes, when Katrin presses the detonator switch, there’s going to be a tiny spark that is going to turn into a flame – we put some accelerant down to make sure of that – and then . . . yeah, Guy Fawkes will have nothing on this. That whole place is going up. And I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more!’

  ‘Minimal collateral damage too,’ said the woman, who I guessed must be Katrin. ‘Most of this place is derelict. No security guards at night. No one to get hurt.’

  ‘Where the hell is Silas?’ Josie whispered to me. ‘We need to get out of here and call the police or something.’

  As we watched, a phone rang. Lara reached automatically into her pocket. She pulled her hand out, empty.

  ‘That’s my ringtone. Have you got my phone?’ she asked Dillon. ‘I can’t find it.’

  Dillon made no move to get it. ‘Oh yeah, you dropped it earlier so I picked it up for you. Forgot to tell you.’

  ‘Give it to me then!’

  ‘No time for that now. We’re busy. Later.’

  Lara put her hands on her hips. ‘Dillon, give me my phone!’

  He picked up the bag and began to walk away.

  ‘Dillon!’

  She chased after him and made a grab for his pocket. There was a scuffle and she went flying to the ground, but when she scrambled up, dashing away from Dillon, the phone was in her hand. She ran in our direction as Dillon came after her. He grabbed her arm, but she swung round and kicked out at him and he dropped to the floor, winded.

  She didn’t even seem to notice as she talked into her phone. ‘What do you mean, where am I? I never told you to meet me anywhere. Where are you? . . . Oh shit, no, no . . . Listen you have to get out of there!’

  Dillon reared up and tore the phone from her hand, smashing it to the ground.

  ‘What have you done, Dillon? What have you done?’

  Jez and Katrin looked at each other blankly. Beside me, Josie grabbed my arm, squeezing painfully tight as she closed her eyes and swore under her breath.

  Dillon’s face was an uncaring, guilty mask. ‘He knew too much. He’s betrayed our location to the police. Who knows what else he’s said?’

  ‘Are you insane? This is not what we are!’

  Dillon reached over to Katrin and took the detonator from her unsuspecting hands. He flicked the switch.

  ‘NOOOOOOO!’ Lara screamed. ‘No, you can’t do this.’ He made a grab for her, but she evaded him. ‘I won’t let you do this!’ and she ran across the car park towards a warehouse on the other side.

  Jez and Katrin called out, but it was Dillon who pursued her. Lara might be small, but she was fast – he couldn’t catch her. Josie and I hovered uncertainly by the building, still not fully comprehending what was happening, still stunned. The other two ran after them, yelling at Lara to come back.

  Lara wrenched open the door of the warehouse – she was a speck in the distance beside the huge building but as she pulled the door back we saw flames lick out.

  ‘Fire!’ said Josie. ‘It’s on fire.’

  ‘SILAS! SILAS!’ Lara screamed and disappeared inside, still shouting. Dillon stopped dead, staring at the door. Jez sank to his knees, holding his head.

  Josie looked at me, horror spreading across her face as we finally worked out amid all the confusion that Silas . . . Silas!

  We ran out into the car park towards the warehouse. And then there was a loud bang.

  ‘Stop!’ Josie cried, yanking my arm to halt me. She got her phone out and dialled 999 frantically. ‘We can’t go in there! It won’t do any good! Hang on! I’m calling for help!’

  I could hear her on the phone, her terrified voice begging them to come, but it was like an echo down a long tunnel, like she was a long way away. I fixed my eyes on the warehouse and prayed because there was nothing else I could do.

  I died a thousand times from fear in the minutes before a figure came running out of the smoke and fell to its knees, coughing. It turned back to the door . . . And then there was an explosion so massive that it shook the ground we were standing on.

  I heard the figure yell, ‘NOOOO!’

  It was my brother’s blistered voice.

  ‘Silas!’

  Josie and I ran towards him. She was still yelling into her phone.

  The girl sank down on to the tarmac next to the man, howling. Dillon let out an inhuman cry of rage. Silas plunged back towards the flames.

  Dillon cried out again as he went after him. ‘IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU!’

  And he brought the crowbar down on Silas’s head.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Three times.

  RAFAELA AGAIN

  I

  As I finish writing Silas’s story, I can smell once again the hideous stench of burning. I can smell the blood on my clothes when I reached him and scooped his limp form into my arms. I can hear Josie’s sobbing voice on the phone calling for an ambulance. And Dillon’s feet slapping on the tarmac as he ran away.

  It was Jez who pulled the crowbar off Dillon. Who pulled Dillon away from my brother’s battered body. He told the police everything. He felt responsible, he said. No one was ever, ever meant to die.

  They tell me he was at Lara’s funeral. He begged to attend and they let him go.

  Dillon wasn’t there. He took the car and he drove off into the night, no one knew where, a wanted man.

  My brother didn’t go to Lara’s funeral either. As I finish his story, I sit beside him in the hospital, wires and tubes all over him. They managed to save his life . . . for now. But they can’t get him to wake up. So we visit and watch and pray – even though none of us really believe there’s anyone listening – Mum and Josie and I, so between us he’s never left alone. We do it in shifts. Mum says if he does wake she wants him to see a face he knows. I feel love for her when she says that.

  I did what he asked me to with his computer. But before I wiped everything, I looked through his files. As he said, his password got me in. I found a set of draft emails to Dad. I copied them, but then I wiped the rest. The police might not want to pursue a boy in a coma, but I was taking no chances. His emails to Dad stayed hidden in my room on a memory pen I tucked inside my box of stories.

  Day after day, we sit there by his bedside. Mum and Josie talk to him. I play him his favourite music. The nurses say we should keep trying to make contac
t – it’s important not to give up. He may be able to hear us even if he can’t respond.

  How useless I feel when they say that.

  So I began to write down his story. It might be the most important story I ever tell, and Josie reads it to him when she visits. I hope it will help him understand what happened. I hope he’ll understand we need him back and he’ll find a way home. His brain is healed now, they say. But he’s still hiding inside and someone needs to bring him back. The problem is no one seems to know how.

  I wonder if Lara was alive, and he could hear her voice, if that would bring him back to us.

  Toby comes to see him one day and brings some of the girls they used to hang around with together. Rachel cries when she sees Silas. They’re not allowed to stay long, but they are allowed in for a while because maybe one of them will be able to rouse him. Our brother and sisters come too. Mum calls them and they pay flying visits to see him. It took this to make us a family, Silas.

  It works like this: Mum does the night shift, I skip school and do the day shift and Josie comes over in the evening. At night I stay at Josie’s house so Mum can be at the hospital. As Josie predicted, her dad went loco over her taking the car, but when he calmed down he could see it was something she would never do again. We were in extremis and had no choice. Still he was as mad as anything at her for putting herself in danger – far madder than he was that she could have caused him serious trouble at work. Except that no one cared about what she’d done, compared to Dillon. I think he was proud of her too though. They say if she hadn’t called the ambulance so quickly that Silas might not have made it this far.

  And every waking moment I spend writing this book for Silas. I try to write him back to me.

  It’s finished now and I don’t know what to do.

  He lies there so still, unwaking, and I don’t know how to help him now.

  It’s Monday afternoon and the hospital is quiet. For once no bells and buzzers echoing along the corridors. I sit beside my brother and watch him as he sleeps, a machine breathing for him through a tube. I watch the rise and fall of his chest. I see how his lashes are still ridiculously, enviably long. And he’s still as beautiful as when he was a child, though now his jaw has angles to it and stubble etchings. His hair has grown and is kicking up in curls. It’s grown while he is sleeping and they haven’t cut it yet, though they shave off his fledgling beard every few days.