Breaking East by Bob Summer

heard his voice, deep and friendly, like a warm cuddle - clear and definite, as if he was standing right next to me, advising and loving me, even giving me the occasional telling off. I missed it all. One of his favourite mantras was, Trust your instincts, Atty. They are older and wiser than you are. And as I trotted along the track, my instinct screamed that somebody else was trotting along behind me.
    The station was where I usually got off, but I followed the track west towards the blocked off tunnel. There were no corners to duck behind and the bends were all long and meandering. Any trees lining the track were behind a high security fence. No way would I have the time to climb over any fences without getting spotted, so the tunnel was my best hope at dodging whoever followed me. I trotted inside. It was gloopy dark and goose-bumping cold. At intervals there were ledges, high up the arched walls, about head height, and I clambered onto the third one along, and lay flat. So much for dressing to impress, the dirt and grit, inches thick, coated my gear like oil. Not happy. I wriggled into position to have a clear view of the entrance. Whoever followed me wouldn’t make it past without me getting a good look. I held my breath and listened so hard I swear I heard the walls creak.
    The tail stumbled to a stop and I recognised Stuart’s tall and awkward silhouette against the sunlight. He stood still and looked down the tunnel. He glanced over his shoulder and back again. His school bag, packed tight and heavy, hung over one arm, and he fiddled with the strap using both hands. He turned to walk away, changed his mind and took a step inside the tunnel, putting one hand out to hold the wall. He inched in and stopped.
    I swung my legs around and jumped down. ‘What do you want, Stuart?’
    ‘Ah, bloody hell.’ His hand flew to his chest. ‘You scared all fifty shades out of me.’
    I stepped towards him brushing my clothes down. ‘Why were you following me?’
    ‘I want to talk to you.’
    If my life hadn’t been free-falling into such a serious shambles I might have laughed. I’d thought things couldn’t get worse, ha, talk about fouling up. Joe was going to go ballistic when he heard my target tailed me into a dead-end tunnel. But rather than collapse into manic hysterics, I got bolshie, like it was Stuart’s fault. ‘What the hell do you want with me?’
    He got snappy back. ‘That guy, the Approved, with the suit and gold tooth. You spoke to him in the park the other day. Who is he?’
    ‘How should I know?’ I walked away, annoyed at the state of my clothes on top of everything else.
    ‘But you spoke to him. Him and that girl.’
    ‘Yeah, so?’
    ‘What did you talk about? Where’s he from? What’s he doing here?’ He skipped alongside me, inches away.
    ‘I don’t know.’ I said. ‘I wasn’t exactly interested in hearing his life story.’
    ‘He’s taken my little sister.’
    That stopped me.
    Stuart’s eyes were rimmed red and he looked scared. ‘He took her,’ he said again. ‘Do you know where to?’
    ‘How do you know it was him?’
    Stuart took a huge breath which stuttered when he released it. He swiped at the sweat oozing on his upper lip. ‘Do you know anything about him?’ He scanned the trees.
    This boy looked more than scared. He looked like he might brick himself. ‘Take it easy,’ I said. A tiny bubble of an idea popped into the back of my head. Perhaps if I got Gemma back right away, Joe need never know I’d lost her. Stuart didn’t look like a miracle and he hadn’t dropped out of the sky, but messages and strange guises, etcetera. I put my hand out to touch his arm. ‘It’s okay.’
    He shook me off. ‘Who are you? Who is he? Where’s Gemma?’
    ‘I don’t know but I’ll help you find her, if you like.’ Joe need never know any of the crappy stuff had even happened. He needn’t know she’d ever been missing. ‘I’ll help you find her,’ I said again, warming