Anthony Horowitz - Nightrise

“It’s OK. This is where I live. You don’t need to come in.”

“It’s not OK! I can’t just leave you here. I want to see you’re safe.”

“Then wait in the car-”

“No!” Alicia turned off the engine. “I’m coming in with you.” Jamie opened his mouth to argue but she stopped him. “You’ve been away all night,” she went on. “Maybe it would help you if you had someone to explain what happened – to back up your story.”

Jamie thought for a moment, then nodded. The two of them got out of the car and walked back along the pavement, passing the house next to the one where he lived. It belonged to a family with two children – girls – about ten and twelve years old. Jamie often saw them playing on the front lawn and their bicycles were there now, parked next to a swing. But he had never spoken to them, not in all the time he had been at Sparks. The girls had probably been told to avoid him and Scott. Nobody ever went near number 402. It was as if the whole neighbourhood knew that these weren’t people you wanted to meet.

He climbed three concrete steps and crossed the porch to the front door. He was glad now that this woman was with him. There was no way that Don or Marcie could blame him for what had happened the night before, but the trouble was that the two of them were likely to strike out first and ask questions later. He had disappeared for more than twelve hours. At least Alicia would give him time to explain why. They wouldn’t dare hurt him while she was there.

At the last minute he stopped and rang the doorbell. It had suddenly occurred to him that he couldn’t just walk in, not with a complete stranger. It wasn’t midday yet. Marcie probably wouldn’t be dressed. He listened for any sound of life, a door slamming open or the tramp of feet coming down the stairs, but there was nothing. As usual, the television was turned on in the front room. That didn’t mean anything. Marcie switched it on first thing in the morning and sometimes left it on all day, even when she was playing music on the radio in the same room. He could hear a man’s voice reading a news bulletin. He rang a second time. There was no answer.

“They’re not in,” Jamie said.

“Do you want to wait for them?”

“Yes.” Jamie nodded. “You don’t have to worry about me. You can leave me here if you want to.”

“No. I’ll come in too.”

She was determined. Jamie shrugged and opened the door. He had known it wouldn’t be locked. It never was. There was nothing worth stealing in the house and none of the furniture belonged to them anyway. Don had rented the place through an agency. The owners were in another state, and whoever they were, they certainly hadn’t been house-proud. The carpets were thin, the wallpaper peeling and the light bulbs hung without any shades. The two boys had mattresses on the floor in one of the rooms upstairs. Don and Marcie had a sagging bed next door. In the kitchen, there was a table and four chairs. That was about it. The house was little more than a shell. If it had been abandoned altogether, nobody would have noticed any difference.

“…with less than five months until election day and still no lead opening up between the two candidates, the pressure is most definitely on. Who will be the next president of the United States? It seems that only time will tell. This is Ed Radway reporting from Phoenix, Arizona…”

There was no audience in the room for the television presenter who chatted on regardless, searching for eye contact with two empty seats.

“This is where you live?” Alicia couldn’t keep the dismay out of her voice.

“We just rent it,” Jamie explained. He was feeling ashamed although he had no reason to. “You don’t have to stay,” he added.

“Excuse me! Are you still trying to get rid of me?”

“No.”

But he was. He didn’t like anyone seeing him here. He didn’t like admitting that this was where he lived. Alicia was looking at him and Jamie realized that he had barely spoken to her since they had left Reno – and when he had, it was only to be rude. And yet what she had said back at the hotel was true. She had rescued him. She had risked her life, driving through gunfire. And he hadn’t even thanked her. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Forget it.” Alicia looked around her. “You’re right. It doesn’t look like there’s anyone at home,” she said. “What does this woman – Marcie – do for a living?”

“She doesn’t really do anything.”

“So how did you-”

But Alicia never finished the question. They both saw it at the same time. The image on the television had changed. A thin boy with long, dark hair and pale skin was facing them. With a strange jolt, a sense of unreality, Jamie realized he was looking at himself.

“…wanted in connection with the murder of his legal guardian, Don White,” the reporter was saying.

The picture divided into two. Jamie and Scott side by side. They were obviously twins, but on the television screen they didn’t look so identical.

“Scott and Jamie Tyler are identical twins. Although they are only fourteen years old, they are said to be armed and dangerous. The public is urged not to approach them.”

“This is crazy…” Jamie whispered.

“Sssh!” Alicia was staring at the screen.

The picture changed to the Reno Playhouse. There must have been four or five reporters standing outside, each one with their own personal microphone and cameraman, clamouring for attention. Their voices could be heard in the background as the local reporter – a blonde, excited-looking woman – told the story.

“Scott and Jamie Tyler were performing here, at this theatre in downtown Reno,” she was saying. “They were part of a so-called mind-reading act that used simple trickery to fool their audience. According to witnesses, both boys were heavily involved in substance abuse and last night it seems they lost control, stealing the gun from their guardian, Don White, and turning it against him…”

“It’s all lies!” Jamie exclaimed. He turned to Alicia, suddenly afraid that she wouldn’t believe him. “What she’s saying. None of it’s true!”

“Jamie…”

“He didn’t even have a gun!”

“Listen to me, Jamie-”

But at that moment there was a blast of sirens outside the house that could mean only one thing. The police had arrived.

As far as Jamie was concerned, it was all just another bad dream, worse even than the one he’d had the night before. It seemed to him that one impossibility after another was piling up on him and he almost expected the grey cowboy from his dream to jump out at him from behind the sofa, just for good measure. He heard the screech of tyres, the sound of cars pulling up in the street. At the same time, the squawk of radio transmitters filled the air. Doors opened and slammed shut. Somebody somewhere called out an order. “This way!”

It was Alicia who took control of the situation. As Jamie stood, rooted to the spot, she grabbed hold of him and suddenly she was very close.

“We have to move,” she said urgently. “You can’t be found here.”

“But…”

“You heard what they said on the news. That’s what they all think. You’ve been set up! If the police get you, you’re finished. We have to go.”

“Go where?”

Jamie turned towards the front door but it was already far too late. He heard footsteps coming up the drive. The front patio had been laid with gravel and the boots crunched against it. Alicia understood. That way was blocked. “Into the kitchen!” she commanded.

Jamie was angry with himself. The situation was completely out of control. If Scott had been here, he would have known what to do. Once again Jamie was weak and helpless, allowing himself to be pushed around… this time by a woman he had only met a few hours before. Fortunately Alicia had taken charge. A door led into the kitchen. She pulled it open and they went through. And that was when they realized that they hadn’t been on their own in the house after all.