Underground Read Free

held the glass to my lips, tipping it toward me. It was gritty and tasted like metal, and he poured it down my throat way too fast. I coughed half of it back up again, splashing water down the front of my shirt.
    â€˜Okay,’ said Soren, putting the empty glass down on the floor. ‘Okay, now you’re going to talk. I would like to know exactly what his plan is.’
    His voice had the same too-proper edge as his mother’s. But there was something else too. A kind of stiltedness, as though he’d learnt all the theory about how this ‘conversation’ stuff was supposed to work, but hadn’t actually tried it out until now. Which, again, possibly wasn’t all that much of a stretch.
    Soren folded his arms.
    I looked back at him, head still throbbing like something was about to burst out of it. ‘Whose plan? Shackleton’s?’
    Soren’s right hand blurred out and smacked me in the side of the head.
    â€˜ Peter’s plan,’ he spat, looking like two people for a second as my eyes struggled back into focus. ‘This weapon of yours. You’re going to tell me where he’s keeping it, and why you and your girlfriend –’
    â€˜What? No, Tabitha is Shackleton’s weapon! And we’re trying to stop him, not – Hey, no-no-no, wait!’ I shrank back as Soren brought his hand around again. ‘Just wait, okay? Listen to me.’
    Soren paused mid-swing, considering. He lowered his arm.
    â€˜Look,’ I said, still bracing myself, ‘I know Cathryn told you guys that we were behind all this, but she’s wrong, okay? That DVD she saw us watching – it was a test video that Shackleton –’
    â€˜Do you really believe that’s why we brought you here?’ said Soren. ‘Do you think we’ve only just now worked you three out?’
    I shivered, the water he’d spilled down my front freezing cold against my skin.
    No, I realised. No, this went back way further than that.
    On our way into this place, Jordan and I had stumbled onto a scene straight out of a serial killer movie: a whole wall crammed full of photos and articles and print-outs and maps, dating back almost two decades. All of it somehow connected to Jordan, Peter and me – a giant timeline of our lives.
    Long before we knew Phoenix existed, before the town had even been built, Soren and his mum had been watching us.
    â€˜He will turn on you,’ Soren breathed, leaning forward again. ‘He does not deserve your loyalty.’
    I turned my head, twisting away from him.
    Soren grabbed the front of my shirt with both hands. ‘Tell me about Tobias.’
    Who?
    â€˜I thought we were talking about Peter,’ I said.
    Soren threw me against the chair, almost knocking me to the floor again. ‘WHERE IS HE?’
    â€˜I don’t know!’ I said. ‘I don’t know, okay? I don’t even know who Tobias is.’
    Soren swung his arm wide, cracking me across the face with the back of his hand.
    â€˜Stop!’ I shouted. ‘Where is this coming from? Who told you we were –?’
    I broke off. Soren’s expression had shifted. He was looking at me like I’d just told him something important.
    â€˜You really don’t know what he’s capable of, do you?’ he murmured, only just loud enough for me to hear, and went back to staring at me like I was an inanimate object.
    I shifted in my seat. My left leg was cramping up, but I could barely move it without the cable tie ripping further into my ankle.
    My eyes drifted to the sign on the wall, and a memory surfaced in my brain. An article Jordan had read out from that fake Time magazine, about the original owner of the land Phoenix was built on.
    â€˜Remi Vattel!’ I said. ‘The woman out there – your mum – is she –?’
    â€˜How do you know that name?’ Soren demanded.
    â€˜It was – we read about her in –’ I