Blackout (4 page)

Instead of stopping on the ground floor, the four of them continued down the stairs to the basement. Slink threw open the door and Charlie and Wren ran through.

Jack stopped and looked up the stairwell – the cops were hurrying after them, their torch beams bouncing off the walls.

No time to waste
.

Jack stepped through the door and turned back to look at the electronic lock. ‘OK, Obi, re-engage the power.’

There was a pause.

Nothing happened.

‘Obi?’ Jack’s night-glasses flickered – they only had a short battery life and probably had less than a minute left before they went dark. ‘
Obi?
’

‘It’s not working,’ Obi said. ‘I can’t turn it back on.’

‘Why not?’

‘There’s been another power cut. The whole area’s blacked out. I’ve lost six CCTV cameras. I can’t even see the cops any more.’

Jack turned to Charlie.

‘The virus,’ she whispered. ‘It’s getting worse.’

He nodded.

The police officers sounded close now – perhaps only a floor or two above them.

Giving up on the electronic lock, Jack turned and the four of them sprinted along a narrow corridor and through a door at the end.

They were now standing in a small room. Jack looked at the power box on the wall. It still had the modification Charlie had made to it the day before – an antenna stuck out of the top, partly hidden behind a spray can.

She hurried over to the box, opened it, disconnected the control wires and manually tried the main power switch.

No luck.

Jack’s night-glasses flickered and turned off. Now he was in complete darkness. He didn’t have a choice – he had to use his torch. He reached to his belt and switched it on.

They heard the door at the end of the corridor bang open. ‘They must be in here somewhere,’ a voice said. ‘No other way out.’

Slink and Charlie slid a large tool chest aside, revealing a sewer grate underneath. Charlie knelt, swung the grate open and waved Wren over. Wren sat on the edge of the hole, then clambered down the ladder, with Charlie close behind.

Jack nodded at Slink and mouthed, ‘Go.’

In a couple of seconds, Slink’s head disappeared down the hole.

Jack switched off his torch. As he let his eyes adjust to the darkness, he could make out the light of the cops’ torches under the door.

‘Power room,’ one of them said. ‘I bet they’re in there messing with the juice.’

Jack dropped to all fours and felt for the edge of the sewer grate. He found it, swung his legs over the hole and lowered himself down. Once inside, he reached up to the grate and dragged it back into place just as the door burst open.

Jack stood on the ladder, holding his breath.

‘What’s this?’ a voice said. ‘I told you someone’s been messing with the circuit breaker. Looks like they’ve busted it.’

‘Where are they?’

Jack remained frozen in the darkness, listening.

‘We’ll find them, don’t you worry about that. The building’s surrounded. They can’t escape.’

Jack watched through the bars of the grate as the torch beams moved around the room. Then the door shut and everything went dark again.

He let out a sigh of relief and hurried down the ladder. At the bottom, he flicked on his torch and turned around.

They were standing on the side path of a main sewer tunnel.

Wren was looking down at the filthy water rushing past her feet. She wrinkled her nose and covered her mouth with her sleeve.

Charlie nudged her. ‘You’ll get used to the smell.’

Wren looked as if she was going to be sick. ‘Doubt it.’

‘Just think about it,’ Slink said, shining his torch on a particularly nasty piece of who-knew-what as it drifted past, ‘that came from someone’s –’

‘
Slink
,’ Charlie snapped.

Slink laughed and skipped up the tunnel ahead, singing, ‘Row, row, row your poo, gently down the stream . . .’

Charlie grumbled under her breath and marched after him, with Wren close behind.

Jack glanced back at the ladder one more time, then followed them.

An hour later, Jack, Charlie, Slink and Wren reached Badbury platform – an abandoned Underground station – just as a train went past, whipping warm air through the tunnel. Light flickered off the grubby tiles and made the old posters dance, as if they were alive.

Jack loved coming this way to the bunker. It was the point where two worlds intersected – the boring, adult world above, and their secret underground domain below.

When the train had passed and it was safe, they crossed the tracks and went through a rusty metal door.

Beyond, they strode down a service corridor. At the end was a concertina door – the entrance to the lift – and they stepped inside.

Wren hung on to Charlie’s arm, while Slink pulled the door shut and hit the button on the wall. The lift let out a huge groan and started to drop.

A few minutes later, a hard thud signified the descent was over. Slink pulled back the door and they headed along another corridor. The air seemed heavier somehow, darker, like a cloak protecting them from the world above.

The beams of their torches bounced off the walls and, illuminated ahead in the gloom, was an archway. They walked through and into the next tunnel.

The walls in this corridor were of rough stone and covered in a dark green slime. Water dripped in slow rhythm and antique metal lights hung from the ceiling, creating pools of yellow on the floor.

They reached a steel door at the end that looked as though it came from a bank vault. Paint flaked off its surface and revealed dark golden rust on bare metal beneath.

Slink swung the door open and they stepped into the airlock. In the top right-hand corner was a secur­­­ity camera and on the wall by the door was a keypad – its numbers glowing. Jack typed in a code. The airlock door hissed open and they walked through.

The converted World War Two bunker was a huge room with brick walls and pillars.

To the right was a kitchen with a fridge-freezer, breakfast bar, cooker, dishwasher and sink.

Opposite the kitchen was the lounge, with a large TV, DVD player and games consoles. There were also two comfy sofas facing each other and several beanbags scattered around the floor. On the wall, in stencilled letters was their name:
URBAN OUTLAWS
.

Next to the lounge was the games area with a pinball machine, two arcade machines, a racing game, a shooting game and a dance pad – all of which had been a huge pain in the neck to get down there.

Beyond the games area was the toilet, a bathroom and a corridor that led to other rooms – the electrical room, generator room, Charlie’s workshop and each of the Outlaw’s own bedrooms. There was a spare room that was full of junk.

Last, on the right-hand side of the main bunker, next to the dining room, was the ‘Obi Zone’. A mass of wires, screens and computers, all of which Obi used to tap into CCTV from around the city.

Obi – a kid so round that it should’ve been ­physically impossible for him to move – sat in a modified dentist’s chair, scrolling through CCTV images, most of which were blank because of the blackout.

He was munching a family size bag of crisps.

Charlie stormed over to him. Obi spotted her coming, grabbed a fistful of the crisps and rammed them into his mouth.

She snatched the bag from him. ‘What about your diet?’

‘He
is
on a diet,’ Slink said, opening the fridge. ‘Seafood.’ He pulled out cans of lemonade. ‘Obi eats any food he sees.’

Obi went to shout a retort, but instead sprayed out a mouthful of soggy crisps.

Wren jumped clear.

‘Real classy, Obi.’ Slink chucked cans of lemonade to them all.

Obi wiped his mouth and looked at Jack. ‘Did you get it?’

Jack shook his head. ‘The safe was empty.’

Obi’s eyes widened. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It can’t have been.’

‘It was,’ Charlie said, resting a hand on his shoulder. ‘We’re sorry. We tried.’

Obi bowed his head. ‘I can’t believe it.’ He had been expecting there to be a copy of his mum and dad’s will inside the safe.

Obi’s parents had owned an advertising company and had been very wealthy. A few years back, they’d been killed in an aeroplane crash. It was all over the news. Obi even had a scrapbook with newspaper clippings about it.

Obi’s uncle was a solicitor and had inherited every­­­thing. According to his uncle, in their will, Obi’s parents had not left a single penny to him and his sister, but Obi knew differently.

‘How are you so sure there is another will?’ Wren asked Obi as she took a sip of lemonade. She had not been part of the Urban Outlaws when they’d started searching for Obi’s dad’s real will.

Obi sighed and looked at his hands as he spoke. ‘When I was, like, six or seven, I woke up one night and overheard Mum and Dad talking.’ He glanced at the others, then continued, ‘They were chatting to my uncle about what would happen if they died. It quickly turned into an argument when the subject of money and the will came up.’ Obi swallowed and kept his eyes on his hands as he twisted his fingers together. ‘Apparently, Mum and Dad decided to leave everything to me and Jess.’

‘What happened next?’ Wren said.

‘My uncle erupted in a fit of rage and stormed out of the house.’ He glanced at Wren. ‘Then I went to bed.’

Jack knew that Obi now wished he’d stayed up and listened to the rest of his parents’ conver­­­sation.

‘What’s this got to do with the will?’ Wren said, frowning at him.

Obi balled his fists. ‘I’m positive Dad would have made a copy of the will, even if my uncle had managed to destroy the original.’

And so that was how Obi had come to ask the other Outlaws to help him find it.

First, they had looked in Obi’s uncle’s office in Hammersmith. But they had no luck there.

Jack hadn’t been surprised by this – from what Obi had told them, his uncle sounded like a very devious character. He wouldn’t be so stupid as to have any copies of the will lying around in such an obvious place – if at all.

No, what the Outlaws had to do was to find a copy he didn’t know about. One Obi’s dad might have kept hidden somewhere. A backup.

The next most likely place had been the apartment in Hyde Park, but now they had found that the safe was empty there too.

Jack wondered if Obi’s uncle had any idea they were hunting for the will. ‘So,’ he said. ‘What now?’

Obi sighed. ‘I don’t know.’

‘What about Jessica?’ Charlie asked.

Jessica was Obi’s sister. She was twenty-four.

Obi shook his head. ‘She doesn’t think there is another copy, and even if there was, she reckons our uncle would’ve destroyed it.’

‘What does she do?’ Wren said. ‘You know, for a job?’

Obi bowed his head. ‘Works at a fast-food res­taurant.’

Charlie squeezed his hand. ‘There’s nothing wrong with that.’

Obi looked up at her, his jaw tight. ‘She’s better than that. She’s clever. If it wasn’t for my uncle, she’d be running Mum and Dad’s company.’ He looked away.

‘What’s he like?’ Slink asked.

‘Who?’ Obi said, glancing at him. ‘My uncle?’

Slink nodded.

Obi’s eyes glazed over for a moment. Finally, he looked back at them all. ‘At first, he treated us pretty well, but then it just changed. One day, he had a huge argument with my sister. She wanted to go to university to do a business and law degree. My uncle refused to pay for it, said it was a waste of money and that she should go and get married, find someone else to sponge off.’

Slink winced. ‘Not cool.’

‘No,’ Obi said. ‘It wasn’t. My sister didn’t put up with it though. She had a go at him.’

‘Bet he didn’t like that,’ Slink said.

‘He kicked her out of the house.’ Obi looked down at his hands. ‘I begged him to let her back in, but he wouldn’t.’

‘He sounds horrible,’ Wren said. ‘I hate him. What did
you
do?’

‘It was a nightmare. My uncle used to lock me in my room. I never went to school. The social services eventually came to investigate and he made up a story, said that I was violent towards him.’

Slink frowned. ‘
You?
Violent?
’

‘Exactly,’ Obi said. ‘I stayed at the house for another six months before he finally managed to get rid of me too. He told the social services he couldn’t look after me any more. He forced me to go to that kids’ home.’ Obi looked at Jack and Charlie. ‘I know he faked Mum and Dad’s will. I just need to prove it.’

‘Hey,’ Charlie said. ‘We believe you, remember?’

Obi nodded. ‘Thanks.’

‘Speak to Jessica again. She might have another idea where a copy might be.’ Charlie offered him a reassuring smile. ‘It’s worth a shot.’