Revenge

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Authors: Gabrielle Lord

BOOK: Revenge
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To Libby

I knew something was wrong as soon as I saw the envelope.

It was waiting for me on my pillow. A red wax seal marked it like a thick, wet drop of blood.

I ran to the window and looked out, but the front yard was dark and quiet. Cautiously, I pulled the curtains back across and picked up the creamy-coloured envelope.

The front was blank, but the seal on the back was carefully pressed with something feathered. I held it under my lamp.

A chill shuddered through my body.

I tore open the envelope and stared at the cryptic message stamped on the note inside.

For a split second I thought it was a hoax—something one of those relentless journalists, like Ben Willoughby, had snuck into my room in a desperate attempt to force another story out of me.

Some people thought that ‘Callum Ormond, the Teen Fugitive', was more interesting as a monster. They were always trying to poke and prod me, trying to tempt the ‘Psycho Kid' out of his slumber. All for another photo and another headline.

And when they finally accepted that I wasn't a crazed maniac, it was almost like they were disappointed.

But this didn't look like a journalist's prank. The tattered wings on the seal … and the way the ink was stamped so firmly on the note inside … this was different.

Something Winter had warned me about since we left Ireland kept replaying in my head. The thought sent a shock wave through my body, and awoke a feeling that I'd only so recently put to rest.

Fear
.

I shoved the note into my pocket, telling myself over and over again that it was nothing.

Just a hoax. Some idiot's idea of a joke.

I took one last look out the window, into the empty darkness, then headed downstairs.

We were having a movie night to kick off the school holidays. Mum and Gab were already in bed, and Boges, Winter and Ryan were coming over to watch a midnight horror movie in our home theatre.

I had popcorn and ice-cream ready, and a shiny new copy of
Nosferatu
—‘the original
vampire
movie', so Ryan had said. Turns out he's a huge horror fan. I tore the plastic off the DVD case as I sat back in one of the eight brand-new recliners.

I stared into the hollow eyes of the ghoulish figure on the cover. He wore a long black coat, claws poised for trouble.

Was trouble coming to find me again?

Since being back home with Mum and Gab, I'd wanted everything to be perfect for us. Claiming the Ormond Singularity meant that we had more money than we knew what to do with, but after living alone in stormwater drains, the bush,
derelict
houses, under bridges … I just wanted us to be together.

I'd spent a bit of money on spoiling Gab. I'd taken her out shopping, thrown her a huge surprise slumber party (with Mum's help), and
given her a silver bracelet with a tiny crown charm—since she now liked to think of herself as royalty.

I also had our old rumpus room converted into the home theatre, like the one in that Dolphin Point mansion I'd hidden in for a while (only in this one I didn't need to sneak around like my life depended on it).

Free stuff was always turning up on our
doorstep
, too. Companies would send me sneakers, backpacks, hoodies, mobile phones, skateboards, even helicopter lessons—they all wanted the famous Cal Ormond to endorse their products. They'd sent Mum and Gab a few things too:
jewellery
, books, kitchen stuff … they'd even been invited on the first voyage of the
Sapphire Star
—the largest luxury cruise ship in the world. Mum and Gab couldn't wait to visit the exotic islands on the itinerary.

My friends were running late. I leaned back in my chair and held my hand up in the
projector
light. I was scraping the shadow of a claw across the wall when I heard a car pull up out front.

I jumped up, jogged to the door and opened it, expecting to find Ryan's car in the driveway.

But it wasn't him.

Instead, I spotted the humming silhouette of a dark car without its headlights on, idling by the kerb. I ducked back inside, out of sight,
waiting
for the blinding flash of a long-lens camera.

But it didn't come.

Slowly, I peered out again. The car was still sitting there.

In only a few months, stacks of books had been written about me. There were thousands of blog posts and YouTube clips about my life on the run, and my Facebook page had been invaded by fans and freaks. Complete strangers followed me and called out my name wherever I went. I'd spent 365 days on the run from cops and
criminals
, disguising my looks, hiding in the shadows, trying to survive … and yet after claiming the Ormond Singularity, proving my innocence and returning home, I was ducking for cover at every corner with almost as much vigilance. When was it going to end?

Still rattled from the note left on my pillow, my fear quickly morphed into anger. I stared at the car, rage surging through me.

‘What do you want?' I shouted, storming out of the house. ‘Haven't you seen enough of me already? How could you want
more
photos of me? You want to see me angry? Here, I am!'

The car didn't move.

I stepped forward.

‘Is that you, Willoughby?' I shouted. ‘Did you break in and plant that stupid note?' I pulled it out of my pocket and waved it. ‘Leave me and my family alone! And get away from my property!'

The car accelerated, screeching away.

‘That's right, get out of here!' I added, before stumbling, as a sharp pain pierced my right thigh.

Damn
, I thought to myself. I must have brushed against Mum's new rose bush.

The vehicle disappeared and I stood back up and scanned the street, waiting for nearby verandah lights to come on, followed by my weary-eyed neighbours, frustrated that Cal Ormond had brought unwanted attention to Flood Street once more.

But no lights came on. Nothing stirred.

The smell of burnt rubber drifted across the lawn as I stumbled again, falling to my hands and knees. The pain in my thigh throbbed. This was no rose thorn.

Something, someone had …

My chest tightened. I struggled for breath.

Gotta get help.

Under the streetlight, my vision blurring, I tried to focus on the note …

DAY 1

30 days to go …

‘Cal?' I whispered from outside the front door. ‘Dude, we're all here. Come on, let us in!'

‘It's only just after midnight, right?' asked Winter. ‘We're not that late. What's he doing?'

‘I bet he's fallen asleep, front row and centre,' said Ryan, pulling out his phone to call Cal.

‘Warm enough?' I scoffed, smirking at Winter's thick black coat and woollen scarf, wrapped firmly around her neck. She had wound her long, dark hair into two loose buns sitting just over her ears, making it look like she was wearing fuzzy earmuffs.

‘Shh!' Winter held her hand up at me with an annoying flick, before lifting a bun and pressing her ear to the door.

‘It's ringing,' said Ryan, turning his phone to
face us. A picture he took of Cal at a backyard barbecue the other day flashed on the screen.

‘Come on, Cal, wake up,' she sang softly,
willing
him to come to the door. ‘It's chilly out here.'

But the phone kept on ringing.

‘Cal!' I whispered louder, trying to project my voice towards the theatre room.

‘Boges, you're going to wake up the others,' Winter hissed back, before snatching at a bag of chips that was poking out of Ryan's backpack. ‘Ryan, ring him again, will you?'

Ryan shrugged, clearly not as annoyed as I was at being bossed around by Winter Frey. What is it about that girl that lets her get away with it? I shook my head at Ryan. You and Cal are two peas in a pod, I thought to myself.

The three of us huddled by the door as Ryan tried Cal's phone again.

‘Maddy coming tonight?' Winter asked. She kept her arms tightly folded as she bumped me with her hip. ‘How's it all going? You looking after her? Treating her right?'

I pretended to tip my hat. ‘Miss Frey, I am nothing but a gentleman,' I said in what I thought was a pretty posh English accent. ‘Seriously, though, Mad's awesome. She has a triathlon at the crack of dawn tomorrow, so she had to have an early one tonight. We've been out a couple of
times … and jogging together after school.'

‘I thought you were looking good,' she said, nodding playfully. ‘Ready to take on NASA's robotics team?'

‘Think so,' I replied.

I'd been lucky enough to swing an interview with NASA's recruitment guys, even though I hadn't finished school yet, and I was hoping my grades and growing list of robotic creations would help me score the rare internship on offer. It would be a dream come true.

‘Yeah, dude, show us your guns,' added Ryan, phone to his ear. ‘Make sure you whip them out in the interview,' he joked. ‘Pretty impressive.'

I flexed my biceps, but dropped my arms when Ryan looked at his phone and shook his head.

‘It's just ringing out,' he said. ‘Maybe we should do this movie thing tomorrow night instead.' Ryan yawned and tossed his car keys up and down. ‘Cal was pummelled at our surf session today. He's probably dead to the world. I'm going to head home, anyone want a ride?'

Winter paused before taking up his offer. ‘Sure,' she said softly. She looked at me. ‘You coming with us?'

‘I'm all right,' I said. ‘I'll walk home. But I'll take those,' I added, snatching the bag of chips from Winter before heading out to the street.

She chased after me and tugged on the back of my shirt. ‘See you back here tomorrow night?'

‘Sure thing.'

dude, what happened last night? midnight too late for u these days? keen for movie tonight instead? ryan & winter r in.

cal, what's the deal? surely you're up by now. call me.

The phone started ringing as soon as I sat down at my desk to catch up on some reading. I sighed and reached for my mobile.

I groaned when I saw Winter's name come up on my screen.

‘No offence,' I said, ‘but I was kinda hoping you'd be Cal.'

Winter exhaled loudly. ‘So you haven't heard from him either?'

‘Nope. Been trying him all day.'

‘He was supposed to meet me at my place this morning, but he never showed. I've called him about ten times—no answer. It's weird. I think I might just go over and see him now. Want to meet me there?'

‘Um—' I hesitated. Lately I'd been completely distracted by my latest surveillance designs and robotic inventions. My floor was covered with sketches and wires and microchips. I cringed at my textbooks, sitting in a stack, practically unopened for days. They could wait one more day. ‘Yep, I'll come, too,' I finally answered. ‘Maybe Cal's phone battery's dead and he's just forgotten to charge it.'

‘Maybe. Meet you over there at, hang on—' Winter paused. ‘Is seven OK?'

‘Sure, see you there.'

I spun around in my chair and stared into my new freshwater fish tank. It was something my uncle and I had built together a few weekends ago. It was two and a half metres wide and took up the length of an entire wall.

I had two archerfish in there, one slightly bigger than the other, and they were both eyeing a tiny green bug that was making its way along a thin overhanging branch. I froze as the fish lined up the target and stealthily glided their
snouts towards the water's surface. I'd been
waiting
to witness this moment for ages, and now not only was one archer aiming up, but two!

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