Read Online Nightrise by Anthony Horowitz - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Anthony Horowitz
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performance. That was all over, and nothing was ever going to be the same again.
The television was still on. A commercial break ended and yet another news bulletin began. They were reporting two murders now. Don White, shot at the theatre, and his partner, Marcie Kelsey, killed with the same weapon at her rented home. Kelsey. The name barely registered with Jamie. He had always known her as Marcie or Mars. And now she was dead and he was wanted for her murder. Jamie Tyler, twin brother of Scott Tyler. Both boys missing. Delinquents. High on drugs.
"That's enough!" Alicia picked up the remote control and turned the television off. "None of it's true, so what's the point of listening to it?"
Jamie said nothing.
"And you're not just going to sit there. You've got to eat something." She pushed a plastic tub of salad toward him. Jamie glanced at the label, aunt mary's lo-calorie caesar salad
. There was a picture of an old lady in an apron. She wasn't real, of course. The meal would have been prepared in a factory, chilled and trucked in. The lettuce leaves looked fake too.
"I'm not hungry," Jamie said.
"Of course you're hungry. You haven't eaten all day." Alicia sighed. "We have to get our heads together, Jamie," she said. 'You've got the police looking for you. Your brother's gone. Two people are dead. Do you really think you can help anyone just sitting here like this? Have some food and let's talk about what we're going to do."
She was right. Jamie pronged some of the lettuce with a plastic fork, then took a slice of ham. There were no cooking facilities at the motel and Alicia had chosen food they could eat straight out of the packet. There were also cookies, fruit, cheese, and bread rolls. She'd taken a beer out of the motel minibar. Jamie had a Sprite. He opened the ring pull, and the hiss of escaping gas seemed to unlock something in himself. He was hungry, after all. And thirsty too. He drank most of the Sprite, then began to eat.
"We need to talk," Alicia continued. Despite what she'd said, she herself wasn't eating. "That trick you pulled back at your aunt's place — that was quite something. Are you going to tell me how you did it?"
Jamie shook his head. "I don't want to talk about that."
"Well, let me suggest something to you. The act that you and your brother were doing on the stage — it was no act. You could really do it…read each other's thoughts. Am I right?" Jamie didn't answer, so she went on. "And I guess what I saw back at the house was some sort of mind control."
Jamie had finished the Sprite. He was holding the can in his hand and suddenly he closed his fingers, crumpling it. 'You don't understand," he said. "I never talk about this stuff. Not with anyone. Except Scott." He looked up at her and she saw that his eyes were filled with anger, challenging her to argue with him. 'You don't know what it's like. You have no idea. And I'm not going to tell you."
"All right. I'm sorry." Alicia drank some beer straight out of the bottle. She thought for a moment.
"Look, I know this is difficult for you. But we're not going to get anywhere fighting each other. Maybe it would help if I told you my story. Right now I'm a complete stranger to you. But it wasn't just a coincidence, my being in the theatre last night. I was there for a reason."
"Something to do with that photograph. Daniel…"
Alicia put down the beer. "Exactly," she said. "Daniel. That's what this is all about."
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. Then she began.
"The boy in the photograph, Daniel, is my son. Last week should have been his birthday. He turned eleven on June ninth. But I don't know where he is. I don't even know if he's alive. He disappeared seven months ago and I've been looking for him ever since.
''You don't need to know very much about me, Jamie.
I'm thirty-two. I have a sister. My parents are from New Jersey. A year ago, I was living in Washington, D.C., working for Senator John Trelawny.
The television was still on. A commercial break ended and yet another news bulletin began. They were reporting two murders now. Don White, shot at the theatre, and his partner, Marcie Kelsey, killed with the same weapon at her rented home. Kelsey. The name barely registered with Jamie. He had always known her as Marcie or Mars. And now she was dead and he was wanted for her murder. Jamie Tyler, twin brother of Scott Tyler. Both boys missing. Delinquents. High on drugs.
"That's enough!" Alicia picked up the remote control and turned the television off. "None of it's true, so what's the point of listening to it?"
Jamie said nothing.
"And you're not just going to sit there. You've got to eat something." She pushed a plastic tub of salad toward him. Jamie glanced at the label, aunt mary's lo-calorie caesar salad
. There was a picture of an old lady in an apron. She wasn't real, of course. The meal would have been prepared in a factory, chilled and trucked in. The lettuce leaves looked fake too.
"I'm not hungry," Jamie said.
"Of course you're hungry. You haven't eaten all day." Alicia sighed. "We have to get our heads together, Jamie," she said. 'You've got the police looking for you. Your brother's gone. Two people are dead. Do you really think you can help anyone just sitting here like this? Have some food and let's talk about what we're going to do."
She was right. Jamie pronged some of the lettuce with a plastic fork, then took a slice of ham. There were no cooking facilities at the motel and Alicia had chosen food they could eat straight out of the packet. There were also cookies, fruit, cheese, and bread rolls. She'd taken a beer out of the motel minibar. Jamie had a Sprite. He opened the ring pull, and the hiss of escaping gas seemed to unlock something in himself. He was hungry, after all. And thirsty too. He drank most of the Sprite, then began to eat.
"We need to talk," Alicia continued. Despite what she'd said, she herself wasn't eating. "That trick you pulled back at your aunt's place — that was quite something. Are you going to tell me how you did it?"
Jamie shook his head. "I don't want to talk about that."
"Well, let me suggest something to you. The act that you and your brother were doing on the stage — it was no act. You could really do it…read each other's thoughts. Am I right?" Jamie didn't answer, so she went on. "And I guess what I saw back at the house was some sort of mind control."
Jamie had finished the Sprite. He was holding the can in his hand and suddenly he closed his fingers, crumpling it. 'You don't understand," he said. "I never talk about this stuff. Not with anyone. Except Scott." He looked up at her and she saw that his eyes were filled with anger, challenging her to argue with him. 'You don't know what it's like. You have no idea. And I'm not going to tell you."
"All right. I'm sorry." Alicia drank some beer straight out of the bottle. She thought for a moment.
"Look, I know this is difficult for you. But we're not going to get anywhere fighting each other. Maybe it would help if I told you my story. Right now I'm a complete stranger to you. But it wasn't just a coincidence, my being in the theatre last night. I was there for a reason."
"Something to do with that photograph. Daniel…"
Alicia put down the beer. "Exactly," she said. "Daniel. That's what this is all about."
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. Then she began.
"The boy in the photograph, Daniel, is my son. Last week should have been his birthday. He turned eleven on June ninth. But I don't know where he is. I don't even know if he's alive. He disappeared seven months ago and I've been looking for him ever since.
''You don't need to know very much about me, Jamie.
I'm thirty-two. I have a sister. My parents are from New Jersey. A year ago, I was living in Washington, D.C., working for Senator John Trelawny.
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