Underground by Chris Morphew

She smirked up at me. ‘ Deep breaths? ’
    I rolled my eyes. ‘What’s wrong with that?’
    â€˜I’m not having a baby, Luke.’
    â€˜Whatever,’ I grunted, pushing her off me. ‘Sorry I don’t have a pre-prepared list of encouraging things to say to my friend while her brain is travelling through time.’
    Jordan got up, rubbing her eyes.
    â€˜So what did you see?’ I asked.
    Her smile disappeared. ‘We might have a problem.’
    â€˜Might?’
    â€˜It was night. I don’t know when. But soon, because that was still here.’ Jordan gestured at our bag of food sitting against the wall. ‘It was scattered all over the place, though. And we were both gone. It looked like –’ She turned, visualising it. ‘I think there might have been a struggle.’
    Monday, June 29
45 days
    What are we still doing here? I thought, staring into the bathroom mirror. I couldn’t see much in the darkness, but it looked like my body was finally getting to work on those bruises.
    Another day gone and we were still in the house. Or I was, anyway. Jordan had sneaked out for another newspaper.
    Even after her vision, she still wanted to stay here as long as we could. We had a roof over our heads, at least, and some kind of view of what was going on in the town.
    Not that any of that’s going to help us when Calvin comes crashing through the door .
    But what else were we supposed to do? Camp out in the bush? The nights were freezing enough as it was, without –
    Something flashed in the corner of my eye. My head snapped toward the doorway. A beam of light swept across the house, flickering in through the windows.
    They’d found us.
    I ran from the bathroom, stumbling to the bedroom at the end of the hall.
    No, no, no, no –
    What was I doing here?
    I flew across to the window and stared through the blinds. Half a dozen security officers, torches in hand, semi-automatic rifles swinging from straps across their shoulders. All running. Calvin up front.
    A tiny part of my brain registered that that much weaponry and manpower was probably a bit over the top, but the rest of me was too caught up in being about to die. I watched, paralysed, as they ran along the street to the front gate.
    Weapons clanking. Boots pounding the concrete.
    And –
    They kept running. Straight past the house.
    I stood at the window, trying to work out why I wasn’t dead yet.
    Ten seconds later, they were up the street and out of sight. Slowly, it sank in. They weren’t coming for us. Or if they were, they were looking in the wrong place.
    I stepped back unsteadily, dizzy with relief.
    A hand landed on my shoulder and I almost jumped out the window.
    â€˜Whoa – it’s me!’ whispered Jordan, spinning me around. She was breathing almost as hard as I was. ‘Did you see that?’
    â€˜Yeah. Where were they going?’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ said Jordan in a rush. ‘Out into the bush, I think. I came out from next door and Calvin was right there. I was like one second away from –’ She closed her eyes, shaking it off. ‘Anyway. It’s fine. They didn’t see me.’
    â€˜Then who were they after?’
    â€˜I dunno. Not us.’ She pulled a rolled-up Herald from her back pocket. ‘Look at this,’ she said, voice darkening as she shook the newspaper open.
    I took it from her, holding the front page up to the streetlight glinting in through the blinds.
    LOCAL YOUTH TO BE PRESENTED WITH YOUNG ACHIEVERS’ AWARD.
    A boy stared back from the page, his pale skin looking even more ghostly in the dim light.
    â€˜Crap,’ I whispered. ‘Jeremy.’
    I skimmed the first paragraph. According to the article, he’d been flown out to Canberra for some awards ceremony at Parliament House. The details were a bit sketchy – which I guess is what happens when you have to make them up in a