Fake: The Scarab Beetle Series: #3 (The Academy) (2 page)

No problem.

Corey struggled next to me. I think he was trying to untie himself. I did the same, only my bonds were slick, and I couldn’t wedge a finger between the material. I tried helping him with his, but my hands were losing feeling quickly at the odd angle. His arms were tied behind his back.

“Hang on, let me take this hood off,” I said.

“With what?” he asked.

I pinched at the material, clawing. When I finally wedged a finger between the material and the hood, clawing at the edge, I managed to wedge it off my face, scraping my chin in the process.

At first, I took a moment to breathe. Even with the hood off, it was still smothering hot. I reached for Corey’s mask. I nearly choked him trying to pry it off, but managed.

Corey coughed hard. He swallowed. “What’s this thing?” he asked.

I felt around for what he was talking about, and found the cell phone. “Came from the guy carrying me.”

He chuckled until he coughed and then said, “Kayli, you are one in a million.” He shifted around. “Hang on to that thing. Give me some room.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m getting us out of here,” he said. He angled himself against the back end of the car and then kicked the trunk door as hard as he could.

“When I get this open,” he said, panting as he kicked, “you’re going to roll out.”

“What? You're crazy. I’ll die.”

“Don’t ask me questions. Just do it.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he said.

He kicked several times. I didn’t think he could do it. Didn’t they hear us?

He slammed both feet against the hood and suddenly it popped open.

He caught it with his feet just before it flew up too high. “Help me,” he said. “Hold it down but don’t close it.

I shifted over, helping him by holding the door almost closed with my feet, nearly pinching my ankle and foot to keep it down. I edged myself close to it, trying to prepare myself. “What are we doing?”

He continued to kick at the side of the trunk, just lower down. “When the car slows down enough, leap out and roll. Take the phone with you.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll wait until you’re out, then I’ll let them go for a mile or so and jump out, too. I’m kicking still in case they can hear it so they think we’re still trying to get out. I want space between us jumping out.”

This sounded more like he was going to let me escape and then still risk the chance they’d figure it out. “But...”

Before I could get out a word, the car slowed, and then started to turn.

Corey shoved himself at me. “Go!” He shouted at me.

I moved myself over, and before I could think, Corey shoved me with his feet.

My butt smacked down first. The rest of me followed, with my cheek scraping against the asphalt.

I shook my head, rolled over, looking after the car.

Sad eyes stared back at me from the open trunk.

Brandon.

I may as well have been struck by lightning. It was strange thinking the whole time I’d been with Corey.

I waited, watching. I held the cell phone I’d stolen between my palms. I wondered if it was broken from my jump. I didn’t move, though, and didn’t bother to hide yet. All I could do was watch Brandon as he stared after me from the car.

Jump
, I thought.
Jump, please.
Don’t get killed. Don’t leave me alone here!

His eyes stayed on me, but he never moved once. He wasn’t going to. He’d lied, and I didn’t know why.

Before he had a chance, the car turned again, driving into a warehouse.

The heavy-duty garage door closed, trapping him. In the second location.

THE CRIME AND THE CRIMINALS

B
eing taken in the middle of the night, I could handle. Jumping from a moving car with my hands tied behind my back, no problem. Having my friend carted off to where he might get shot or worse, and I was really pissed.

I sat upright. My arms and elbows were scraped raw and my butt was sore. The shirt and boxers I wore were soaked from the damp concrete. My hair was in my face and I did my best to pull it away from my eyes. The air was moist, cool and thick, and I found it hard to catch my breath. Chilled, I let the dizzy feeling wash away as I sat for a moment, considering my options. I still held onto the phone. I needed to get to Brandon and see what I could do about freeing him, too. I needed to get away from the road before they came back to look for me.

I couldn’t run for it tied like I was. I put the phone down and inspected the bonds at my feet. A knot bound me and I dug my fingernails in to loosen it. I kept looking up at the garage the car had disappeared into, trying to determine how much time I had before they discovered I wasn’t in the car.

I was able to loosen the knot enough that I could wedge one foot free. With the rest still tied to my leg, I could still run, which was good enough for now. My hands could wait. I scooped up the cell phone, hopped up and headed to the shadows and toward the garage.

My heart stayed in my throat, pounding. I was focused, acutely aware of sounds and movements. The breeze that picked up around me cooled my wet clothes and I shook so hard from the chill until my bones hurt. I took to grass and walked around the building, looking for an alternate entrance: a window, or anything where I could look in on what was going on.

I found a window not too far from the front garage door. I checked it slowly, peeking through it. Nothing, just an inside office and it was dark.

I circled around the back, finding more windows. They were higher on this side, and I stood on a concrete brick to look in.

The car was parked in the warehouse close to the now closed garage door. Men hovered over the open trunk.

Two of them, one particularly big in size, carried Brandon out. His legs and hands were still bound. They lifted him, bucking and hollering, which they ignored.

I caught the echo of one of them yelling back at Brandon, but the echo and everyone talking at once made it impossible to hear what anyone was saying.

The one I thought was like a Mack Truck hoisted Brandon up and carried him. I counted the people. There were four in total that I could see. It looked like there might still be one the car and I considered there might be others around in this warehouse.

They took Brandon to a ratty sofa that was on top of a wooden pallet. Mack Truck dropped him hard down on the cushions. Before Brandon could sit up, the whole place lit up with a bright white light aimed directly at Brandon, and beyond to the window.

I was blinded, the brightness burning my retinas. I could almost feel the heat from the lamps even through the window. I closed my eyes against the onslaught and then turned my head, trying to look anywhere else but directly at it. Everything else I saw was shadows, such as the outline of Brandon on the couch.

“Corey Henshaw,” someone said from beyond the lights.

They thought he was Corey! I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. I tilted forward, the brick I was on teetering but I corrected my balance and focused. I kept the phone in my hands, ready to use it as a weapon, or possibly to call for the police if I needed to. I thought about calling for them now, but I didn’t want to if they had guns pointed at Brandon, and I couldn’t see at this point what they were holding.

I wanted to call Marc and the others, but I didn’t know their individual numbers by heart. I couldn’t think of who else to call.

“What do you want?” Brandon asked, keeping his head turned away.

My heart rocked against my ribs. If he was going to let them think he was Corey, if they somehow found out it wasn’t true, they might kill him and then try to go after the real Corey.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” one of the men asked.

Brandon shrugged. “Don’t know who you’re talking about. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Fingers snapped somewhere beyond the bright white light. “She’s probably not far. Take the car and retrace the route. See where she ended up.”

“Did you want her or me?” Brandon asked. “Leave her alone and get to what you wanted.”

Car doors slammed and the car started as the garage door rolled up. I caught the movement as the car inched backward. With the bright light on, it was hard to tell who left and who didn’t. I was tempted to move to get a different angle, but I didn’t want to miss anything and I didn’t see other windows.

“Sorry it had to come to this,” the accented voice said. Was it familiar? I tried to think but couldn’t place the voice. The accent was making me think I’d heard it before. “You’re the only one who can help us.”

“You’ve got a funny way of asking for help.”

“We tried being nice about this,” the voice said. “We asked you to come work for us.”

I sucked in a breath. Some guy who spoke German had jumped from his car when I was on a walk with Corey, wanting to hire him. I was pretty sure this was the same person. Had it been the same car? In the heat of the moment, I didn’t recognize it, but now I tried to recall the shape, the color.

Brandon turned his head, facing the voice. “You’ve got my attention now.”

“We need your expertise. We’ve got a problem with a particular bit of code.”

“That’s it?” Brandon asked. “You’ve got a computer problem? Try tech support next time. There’s usually an eight-hundred number.”

“See, you’re not even listening,” the voice said. “Need I remind you of where you are, and that we’ll have your girlfriend again, soon.”

“Still don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Then I guess after I catch her, I can just shoot her. No need for her running to the police about this.”

He wasn’t going to convince them I was a nobody he was next to in bed. Not after Corey pretty much said I was his girlfriend the first time the German had approached him. Brandon shook his head. “You don’t want her in the middle of this. Trust me. She’s a handful.”

I had to smile. I was almost proud of that.

“Enough,” the German said. “You do understand my meaning.”

“I’m not working with anyone I don’t know,” Brandon said. “Tell me who you are.”

“Oh no, Mr. Henshaw. You had your chance to play fairly. Now you have to do it our way.”

“Why don’t you get to the point?”

I surveyed the situation. I evaluated my chances of taking on who was left or sneaking in somehow to help him. Bright lights were useful for intimidation, a scare tactic; I’d learned that much from watching too much television.

Clever, careful. That was a problem—these guys were smart. The warehouse otherwise appeared empty. If they needed a computer fixed or a code looked at, they picked a really crappy place. Either they had a laptop with them, or their equipment wasn’t here, which meant this was a temporary holding place and Brandon would be moved to their headquarters. I hoped they’d stay. I didn’t know where I was, but I was sure if I could find Corey’s real number somehow, I’d be able to get him to track my location and get them to help. The only problem was, I didn’t know his number, or anyone else’s.
 

“We need Murdock’s Core,” the German said.

“Are you insane?” Brandon asked. “That’s impossible.”

“Since when was anything impossible for DepthCrawler? That was your signature, wasn’t it? You should be able to get it, you wrote the Guard Dog security packet they utilize to keep people out. Don’t you remember?”

Now they were talking over my level. What core? I could only guess it was something valuable. Maybe access to credit card information?

“Why don’t you ask the guy who owns the core if you need access so bad,” Brandon said. “That’d be the easiest.”

“Because he died, Mr. Henshaw, or else we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”

“That’s too bad,” Brandon said. “Guess you’re out of luck.”

“No,” the German said. “There’s still you.”

“I’m telling you, I can’t get you access to the core. I’d need access to the building, and they’re not going to let me near the place long enough to fiddle with their server. Hacking it from elsewhere would be near impossible and could take years if I’m the only one working at it. And if I could access it, what would stop me from using it? Or selling it to someone else?”

A figure stepped forward, his shadow harsh against the onslaught of light. It was the German, from the shape of him.

“You’re going to figure out the key and deliver long distance to the core to me, so I can use it whenever I wish. You’re going to break down the security and find a way. You can break through your own security protocols, can’t you?”

“Why me?” Brandon asked. “There's a bunch of hackers who would love to give this a try.”

“We’re asking you,” the German said, “because we’re sure you can do it again.”

Brandon turned his head. I could almost feel his teeth grinding and his jaw clenching from the strain on his face.