(Frank's POV)
6:00 P.M.
That's the time the Head of MI9 told me, Rose, Carrie and Oscar to come to Thames House and meet her. She didn't say much – she just told us to come to MI9 headquarters for an urgent meeting.
So, here we are, in the meeting room, waiting for the Head. The room is medium size, minimal and white, with the exception of the ten black swivel chairs surrounding the white boardroom table and the three large canvas paintings showcasing abstract art along the wall. Opposite the paintings is a large window that has a spectacular view of London.
I look at my watch – 5:59 P.M. The Head should be here in a minute or so.
"What do you think that call was about?" Rose asks for about the millionth time.
"Like Frank told you five minutes ago, he doesn't know, Rose," Carrie says before I can say anything. "You can't know everything, you know."
"I can try!"
"The call was mysterious though," I continue. "Whatever it was, she sounded really urgent – meaning that the mission we're getting must be a very important one."
Just then, the Head enters the room, carrying a black file in her hands.
"Good evening, agents," she says. "I'm sorry for calling you here at this time. But the mission I'm about to give you is one of the utmost importance."
Ha, I knew it!
"Agents, there's someone I'd like you to meet," says the Head. "Stark, bring him in!"
The door opens and Stark enters the meeting room. Another man enters after Stark. He's tall and slender, but quite muscular. He has dark skin, black hair and brown eyes, wearing a long-sleeved sweater shirt over dark denim jeans with black boots.
I can see Carrie nudging at an open-mouthed Rose, whispering, "That is one hunkalicious hottie."
Oscar rolls his eyes as Rose nods in agreement.
"Agents, this is Tom Stone," says the Head, nodding to the dark-skinned man.
"Hi, Tom," Rose and Carrie say in unison.
"What's up?" he says with a smile.
Oscar gives his eyes another roll as Rose and Carrie blush and giggle girlishly.
Stark clears his throat. "If you don't mind…?" he says, prompting the girls to quieten down.
"Thank you," says the Head. "Like I said, this is Tom Stone. He's twenty-seven years old from Hammersmith and is a tailoring consultant for King and Allen in Savile Row. Your mission is simply this: guard Mr. Stone."
Oscar puts his hand up. "Erm… who are we protecting him from?" he asks.
"This man." The Head opens the file and places it on the table. The team and I stare at a headshot photograph of a stern-looking man in his sixties with olive skin, slicked back dark brown hair and light brown eyes, wearing a black suit jacket and white shirt with the top button not done up. "This is Julio Vargas. Born in Notting Hill to an Italian mother and Spanish father, Vargas is a gangster and boss of the Vargas crime family. He is also leader of a criminal organisation called the Cuatro Jinetes – the Four Horsemen – which consists of him and his henchmen: Rizzo Montana, Skippy Beretta and Freddy Patucci. Their allies are the Clerkenwell crime syndicate, the Colombian drug cartels and 'Yardie gangs' or hoodie gangs hired as muscle. The Horsemen's criminal activities include drug trafficking, armed robbery, arms trafficking, assault, extortion, fraud, Skimming, money laundering, murder and attempted murder…"
"Sorry to interrupt, but what has this got to do with Tom?" Carrie asks.
"Two nights ago, after a night out with friends, Mr. Stone witnessed Vargas and his crew shoot and kill an informant named Reggie Ratburn, a.k.a. Reggie the Rat. After the killing, Vargas spotted Mr. Stone and ordered his men to get him and have him killed. Luckily, Mr. Stone managed to escape and briefly went into hiding before coming to us."
"Why didn't Tom go to the police?" Rose asks.
The Head hesitates. It's down to Stark.
"What was failed to be mentioned is that the Horsemen are known for their Bribery and have developed alleged connections to the Metropolitan Police," he says. "They are also stated to have a British Conservation MP in their pocket at one point."
"No way!" Carrie says, shocked. "How did Tom find out about MI9?"
"I've got a friend whose uncle works as a Senior Crown Prosecutor at the Crown Prosecution Service," says Tom. "The CPS has been wanting to put Vargas behind bars for years, but no witnesses have ever come forward as Vargas and his goons either frighten them off or… you know."
We all know what he means.
"Anyway," Tom continues, "my friend's uncle called up a friend of his who works for MI9, passed the message onto the Head and here I am. The Head has suggested that I should testify against Vargas if he can be tried, but for now, I'm in witness protection until the time comes."
"Which is why Mr. Stone will be taking refuge at St Hope's," says the Head. "You'll be able to keep a close eye on him and if the worse happens, you can take him to HQ under the school. Any questions?"
"Just one," says Oscar. "Don't you think Vargas will post a description of Tom to every hoodie gang in London as well as put a price on his head? For all we know, there might be a gang near St Hope's – they'll spot Tom and tell Vargas, who'll order them to take him out or Vargas will do it himself and take out Tom – along with anyone else who stands in the way."
"Oscar's right," says Rose. "We'll need something to disguise him."
"What about the Age-Deceiving Pills?" Carrie suggests. "We'll use the blue pills to make Tom younger. That way he'll be unrecognizable to Vargas and the Hoodies."
We all stare at Carrie with amazed silence.
"I… I thought it was a good idea…" she stammers.
"Good?" says Rose. "It's brilliant!"
"It's genius!" I add.
"Let's do it!" says Tom.
"Then it's settled," says the Head. "Tomorrow, Mr. Stone will attend St Hope's disguised as a pupil. MI9 will provide him the school uniform, but tonight, he'll be staying at Agent Cole's safe house. If that's all right with you, Agent Cole."
"That's fine by me," Oscar replies.
The Head nods and walks to the door. She grabs the handle and just before she pulls the door open, she turns to Tom. "Just one more thing, Mr. Stone," she says. "Contact with the outside world is limited – that means no phone calls, emails or any social networking." The Head turns to the team and me. "Agents, protect Mr. Stone at all costs – he is the only one who can put Vargas and his gang behind bars… for good."
Everyone in the room nods and the Head opens the door and leaves the room, Stark following behind.
"Right, well, we better introduce ourselves," I say, standing up. "I'm Frank London. This is my team – Rose Gupta, Oscar Cole and Carrie Stewart."
Rose and Carrie blush and mumble their hellos, while Oscar is confident with his hello and shakes Tom's hand.
After the introductions, we leave Thames House and climb into my car to drop everyone in turn. First off, it's Carrie.
"See you tomorrow, guys!" she says as she gets out of the car. "Bye Tom." Carrie shyly waves at him and dives for her front door.
I chuckle and shake my head. "Right, Rose, you're next."
Rose gets delivered. She doesn't say anything – she nods and waves before letting herself into her house.
Oscar and Tom are left in the car. After a few minutes, we arrive at the safe house. We all step out of the car and enter the safe house. While Oscar shows Tom his room, I explain the situation to Agent Percy Reed – the agent looking after Oscar.
"It's just for a few days, just until Vargas is tried," I finish. "So is it OK?"
"That's fine – the more the merrier!" says Agent Reed. "Would you like to stay and have something to eat or drink?"
"Thanks, but no. I'm gonna get going. Thanks again for taking in Tom." I go to the hallway and call from the bottom of the stairs, "Oscar! Tom! I'm heading off now!"
Oscar and Tom come bounding downstairs.
"Oscar, bring Tom to school early tomorrow so I can give him the Age-Deceiving Pill. I'll write up a school report about him and try and persuade Flatley to take him in – despite the fact that it's June and mock exams are next week," I say. "See you tomorrow and remember Oscar – stay alert."
Oscar nods and with that, I leave the house. I head for the car, but almost at once have a feeling that I'm being watched. By the car, I kneel down, pretending to tie up my shoe just so I can glance around the street.
No movement.
No shadow withdrawing into the darkness beyond.
"Hmm," I hum and enter the car. My mind is playing tricks on me. I sigh and shake my head and start the car. Just when I start to pull out, I spot someone on a BMX bike, several yards away.
I can't make them out as they're dressed in black and their hoodie is covering their face. I open the door and get out onto the road to catch a glimpse of the person, but the mysterious black-clothed biker takes off and disappears around the corner.
"He can't be…? Could he?" I mutter to myself, glancing to the safe house then back to the place where the biker was at. I dismissively shake my head and go back into the car. I do up my seatbelt, pull out and drive home. "It's probably nothing," I say to myself. "It's just some kid going to meet up with his friends, that's all."
But if that's the case, why do I have this feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach?
(Jenny's POV)
"Oh man, I'm gonna be late!" I say to myself as I run. "Stupid alarm on my phone! Didn't wake me up at the designated time!"
Actually, it's more my fault than my phone alarm. I overslept this morning. Not because of playing video games all night, clubbing with Livi or catching a late-night movie with Frank. My reason is this: the Year Ten mock exams are next week, so I've being spending the last week giving after school tutoring to the students – from three thirty till seven. On top of that, I've been spending my nights marking everybody's homework and test sheets. Meaning, I hardly have any time to kick any bad-guy butt. Luckily, Zeke has been very understanding, so he's given me time off until the exams have finished.
I check my watch. It's 11:12 A.M.
"Arrgh! Gotta hurry up," I say. "I'll have to take the shortcut through the park."
I scuttle to the park and hurry through there. The park is always deserted in the mornings, with the exception of the birds and the few joggers that come here. I frown up at the dark clouds that are gathering, sweeping along by a chilly breeze, playing hide-and-seek with the sun. I let myself through a secret opening in the fence, hoping I can make it to St Hope's on time.
I run through a short, narrow alley before I spot the ivy-covered wall on the opposite end. I nip over the wall and right out in the road. I sprint down the street and round the corner and hey presto! I pull up at the gate of St Hope's, panting, the bell ringing at the same time – break time is over. I made it… just. I take one deep breath and make my way into the school.
As I walk along the corridor to the English room, I think about how everyone has gone from slackers to swotting all-stars. Before I came here, homework and exams were at an all-time low. Now, it seems that with a bit of motivation, everyone – including Scoop – has got their act together. Here's why. A few months ago, I promised everyone that if they do really well in their exams, they'll get an end-of-term prom. Since that day, everyone has got their heads in the books. It's a carrot on a stick like that that gets anyone easily motivated.
I step into the classroom and say good morning to everyone, make my way to my desk – and stop.
"Hey!" A boy I have never seen before is sitting at the front.
He's kind of handsome. Dark skin, dreamy brown eyes, chiselled cheekbones and a gorgeous mouth with a full bottom lip and a diamond stud in one ear. He's wearing the standard St Hope's school uniform, but his tie is loosen and hanging over his jumper and his sleeves are rolled up to reveal multiple brightly coloured rubber wristbands on each wrist.
He has made himself right at home. His books and notebooks are spread out. And he's taking notes from the play that everyone has been studying all year – Romeo and Juliet.
"I've never seen you before," I say, standing over him.
He gazes up at me with those brown eyes. "No, you haven't," he replies casually. "I just transferred here today."
"Excuse me?" I say, staring down at him.
"Jenny, this is Rome Black," says Rose. "He transferred here from St Michael's because his school has a rat infestation."
"Oh. Well, er, welcome to St Hope's, Rome. I'm Jenny Brownstone – your class tutor. Please don't call me Miss Brownstone – Jenny or Jen will suffice."
"All right… Jen," he says, with a nod and a smile.
"I see you've met our transfer student."
I look up to find Aunt Hermione standing at the door.
"Oh, er, yeah," I say, going over to her. "Why wasn't I told about this?"
"I tried calling you," says Aunt Hermione. "Time and time again, and they all went straight to voicemail."
I take my phone out of my pocket and unlock it. Three missed calls and a text from her.
There's a student being transferred to St Hope's from St Michael's – his name is Rome Black.
"Ah…" I ah-ed. "Right, well… thanks for that, Aunt H. I, er… I better get back to my lesson."
"Mmm," she hums and walks out of the classroom.
I pocket my phone and slink back to my desk, my eyes on an open-mouthed Rome. "Yes, you heard right, Rome. The deputy headmistress is my aunt," I say. "You would've thought someone had already told you."
"No, they didn't," he says, his eyes drifting to Rose and Carrie on the next table, but they turn away and stare at their textbooks and continue scribbling notes in their notebooks.
"Well, now you know. Now, concentrate on Shakespeare."
Rome goes back to his work, while I slide into my seat. I pull out a paperback novel from my bag and slouch in my seat, my feet resting on the table. I open to the page marked by the bookmark tucked inside and begin to silently read as I let the class carry on with their studying.
xxoOoxx
I go to Starbucks in the town centre at lunchtime to fork out for a few refreshments as I missed breakfast and I didn't pack a lunch – a steak and cheese Panini, a chocolate muffin, a.k.a. the Mississippi Mud Muffin, and a fruit smoothie. The bus drops me off around the corner and I wander back up the road when I see a black car with tinted windows parked outside the school gates, along with a gang of five black-dressed individuals on BMX bikes. I take cover by a yellow Volkswagen beetle on across the road near the black car.
I take a peek using the passenger windows. "I wonder what's going on," I say to myself. I open my communicator. "Activate super-powered listening device."
"This is where he's hiding? Some grotty, old school?"
"Are you sure this is the place?"
"Of course this is the place, man! I spotted dem last night going into dat house on Maple Road. And I spotted dem leaving early this morning and followed dem here."
"You better be right, kid. Because if the boss finds out you're lying… well, let's just say that pretty face of yours won't be pretty when he's done with you."
"Oh, my days, blud, I'm telling the truth! Look, you want proof? I'll take a picture of the wallad – he'll be rolling with dat scruffy-looking blond kid with curly hair. Then you'll know it's him."
Blond kid with curly hair? Does he mean… Oscar? What's he got to do with this?
"Fine by us, kid. Just make sure you send the picture to the boss."
"Hey, we better get out of here – and quick. There's a terrifying-looking woman heading this way."
Aunt Hermione – she's the fiercer than fierce.
The engine of the black car starts and takes off in one direction, while the bikers go the opposite way before Aunt Hermione reaches the gates. She shakes her head in disdain as if to say "honestly", and goes back into school.
I on the other hand deactivate the listening device and send the recording to Zeke with a message of whether he can find out who those people are. One thing I know for sure is that someone in St Hope's is in danger – Oscar too. And I'm not gonna let those jerks hurt them.
I'm not.
(Frank's POV)
It's around 7:00 P.M. when I get to the door of the English room. Oscar and Tom – who's masquerading as Rome Black – have finished their after-school tutorials. Rose and Carrie aren't with them because Carrie has got gymnastics training and Rose says that she simply doesn't need the extra lessons.
The door opens and a crowd of kids come bustling out of the classroom. Oscar and Tom are the last to leave.
"Hey. I thought I could offer my services and drop you two off," I say.
"Thanks, Frank," says Oscar.
"So, 'Rome', how was your first day?" I ask Tom as we start walking.
"Well, other than getting a ton of homework and getting mobbed by the girls who want my phone number, I say that my first day was A-OK," Tom replies. "But I think the highlight of my day here is that fine-looking, breathtaking beauty of a schoolteacher that is Jenny Brownstone."
I narrow my eyes at Tom, my hands clenching into tight fists at my sides.
"I mean she is fine as all hell. She is ten out of ten – absolutely drop-dead gorgeousissimo," Tom continues. "I wonder if she's single. Maybe when this whole thing blows over, I'll ask her out. I'll have to pretend to be Rome's dad, though. Or stepdad as we have different surnames…"
"Sorry to burst your bubble, To–I mean, Rome," Oscar cuts in, remembering how to address Tom, "but Jenny is already with someone."
"Really? Who?"
"Hey, guys!"
My heart skips a beat as Jenny comes running towards us from the English room.
"Hi, Rome. I just wanted to know if you found your first day OK," she says.
"It was fine… real fine," says Tom, eyeing Jenny up and down.
"Grrr…!" I growl. I can feel my jealously starting to bubble.
"Calm down, Frank," Oscar hisses out the side of his mouth.
"That's great. I'll see you tomorrow. You too, Oscar." Jenny comes to me and whispers in my ear, "You and me, tomorrow on the roof. I'll bring the strawberries."
My face turns bright red, my hands relaxing, my jealously fading. "Y-yeah, yeah, OK," I stammer.
Jenny giggles. "Until tomorrow," she whispers, and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and walks off in the direction she came.
I turn back, my eyes on Tom. He stands gaping at me. He blinks his eyes several times, as if he doesn't believe what he saw.
"No frickin' way!" Tom says finally. "You… and her… together?"
I nod. "Yes."
A smile spreads on Tom's face. "Nice! I am very impressed. Well done, Frank."
"Thanks," I smile.
Soon, Tom is asking me tons of questions about Jenny – does Jenny have a sister (yes), does Jenny know what I really do (no), is Jenny really related to Mrs King (yes – unfortunately) and so on. We come out of school and head for the car park. It's a clear, cool evening, more like spring than summer.
As Oscar and Tom enter the car, I suddenly feel that someone is watching us. I spin around, glancing around as fast as I can, but there's no-one around.
"Huh," I murmur. "Weird."
"Frank? Is everything all right?" Oscar asks.
"Yeah. I-I think so," I reply uneasily.
I climb into the car and start the engine. I back out of the school and head the car to the safe house.
(Jenny's POV)
It's been two days since I sent that recorded conversation of those thugs outside the school to Zeke and he still hasn't replied.
The situation is getting semi-serious. During the past two days, the same gang that I saw before have started hanging around the school gates – usually during lesson time and after school. Aunt Hermione has tried to scare them off, but they keep coming back. Whoever this gang want at the school is in serious danger. The worst thing I don't know who the person is.
Eventually, Aunt Hermione had threaten to called the police on the gang and it seems that the threat has sunken in because when I get to school on Friday, there is no-one hanging around at the gates. No BMX bikes, no loud music, no empty Coke cans and discarded Kentucky Chicken cartons – nothing. I know I should be glad that those hooded thugs are gone but something tells me that they're still after someone in the school and their superiors – the people in the black car – told them to stand down. I (unsuccessfully) shake that feeling and head to the gym for PE.
After the lesson, when everyone is having a shower, my communicator beeps. Finally! Zeke decides to call after three days. I take the call outside the gym, glancing around to make sure there's no-one around.
"You certainly took your time to answer a message I sent to you three days ago. What happened?" I ask.
"Well, hello to you, too!" Zeke exclaims sarcastically.
"Sorry. Hello, Zeke."
"That's better. Anyway, sorry I didn't call earlier. I've been currently working on a super-slick turbo-powered wheelchair that can float on water. It still early days, though. Moving on, I heard the recording and it's not good news."
"Do you know who those people are?"
"I'm afraid so. The voices on that recording are Skippy Beretta and Freddy Patucci – the two fourths of the most dangerous criminal organization in London, the Cuatro Jinetes. Or in English, the Four Horsemen. The group involves those two guys, Rizzo Montana and their leader and crime boss Julio Vargas. They are said to be involved in drug trafficking, extortion, security fraud, gambling, as well as been linked to murders and they often use Afro-Caribbean men – Yardie gangs/hoodie gangs – as muscle to influence informants and rival criminals. Whoever the Horsemen want at St Hope's is what David Walliams was doing for charity when he swam the Thames – in deep shit!"
"One of the hoodies said that the person hangs around with Oscar Cole – one of my students."
"You mean this person?" A photo appears on the communicator screen. It's Frank, Oscar and… Rome Black! "This photo was taken on a Tuesday night and has been on the Internet since Wednesday."
"That's Rome Black," I say. "He just transferred here from St Michael's a couple of days ago because of a rat infestation."
There's quick typing from Zeke. "Well, this is weird. There's no such person called Rome Black on St Michael's school records. Even weirder than that, there is no rat infestation going on at St Michael's."
"That means that the Horsemen are after Rome."
"Don't you mean Tom Stone? I just ran an analysis on the photograph and it seems that not only did Mr. Stone change his name, but also his outer appearance. This is what the guy actually looks like."
A headshot photograph appears on the screen. I gasp as I stare at handsome, twenty-something picture of Rome or Tom or whoever he is.
"This is incredible!" I say. "In this photo, he's in his twenties but in the other photo with Frank and Oscar, he's a fifteen-year-old boy. How is this possible?"
"I give you two letters and a number: MI9," says Zeke. "They must have used a gadget or a mixture on this guy to change his appearance so the Horsemen won't recognise him. But now they know where he is…"
"He's in serious danger. I've got to warn him!"
The bell rings as I hang up on Zeke – right over my head.
I raise my hands to protect my ears.
When the bell finally stops clanging, the double doors swing open and the students noisily hurry out of the gym. I spot Rome/Tom with Oscar, Rose and Carrie and catch hold of him.
"Can I have a word with you, Rome – in private?" I ask.
"Oh, well… OK," he says, looking at Oscar, Rose and Carrie, then at me again.
"It's OK, we'll wait outside for you," says Oscar.
I take Rome/Tom's arm and steer him back into the gym to the blue mats in the far corner, indicating for him to sit with a nod of my head.
"Listen, I'm not gonna beat around the bush, so I'm just gonna come out and say it," I say. "I know you're not Rome Black."
His eyes widen in surprise. "Huh? W-what are you talking about?" he stammers.
"Your name is not Rome Black," I repeat. "Your real name is Tom Stone."
Tom stares at me. He opens his mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. "How-how did you find out?" he finally asks.
"I had a friend run your name in the school records of St Michael's – no-one in that school goes by that name," I say. "The transfer and the pest problem were a cover concocted by MI9, wasn't it? As well as whatever it was to make you younger."
Tom nods. He sighs. "I might as well tell you. My name is Tom Stone. I'm actually twenty-seven and I come from Hammersmith. I'm in witness protection because… because I saw something I wasn't supposed to see."
"Something that involves the Four Horsemen?" Before he can reply, I say, "I know who the Horsemen are and I know that they're after you, Tom. I also know that they know where you are – over the past few days, they've been using hoodie gangs to keep watch of you. I've seen them hanging outside the school gates."
"What?! How do they know where I am? I'm disguised as a fifteen-year-old boy!"
"The Hoodies must have been following you from wherever you've been living to here. You've got to get hold of MI9 and let them know that the Horsemen know where you are."
"Yeah. Yeah, you're right! I better jump to it," Tom says, standing up. "Um, listen… about you finding out about me…"
I cross my arms over my chest and raise an eyebrow at Tom. "What about you, Rome?"
Tom flashes me an irresistible smile. "Thanks, Jen. Frank's lucky to have you."
I blush as I watch Tom leave the gym… only to hear his cries seconds later.
"Tom?" I call.
"Help! Help me, Jen!" he screams.
I race out of the gym to find Rose, Oscar and Carrie lying on the floor. They're OK – just sedated.
"Jen!" Tom cries.
I head for the playground, where two suited men are carrying Tom by the elbows and heading for the black car parked at the gates – the Horsemen! I start running again and gain enough forward momentum that I do a flying kick to the back of the man on the right's head, causing him to stumble to the ground. His partner turns to me, but I punch him in the stomach and give him an uppercut.
While the two Horsemen groan in pain, I haul Tom upright and tell him to get help.
"But what about you?" he asks.
"I'll hold them off," I say. "Now go!"
Tom does what I say and goes back into the school. As the two Horsemen pick themselves up and dust themselves off, I go into a defensive posture. The man who I kicked in the back of the head is quite darkly handsome, with tan-coloured skin, wavy dark brown hair that's hanging loose, framing his face and flashing brown eyes. He's wearing a dark blue suit with a black shirt and a small leather pouch hanging on a leather string around his neck. His partner is tall, blond and athletic-looking, wearing a dark grey suit and a crisp white shirt.
The blue-suited Horseman angrily growls. "You're gonna pay for that, you bitch!"
"Bring it on!" I say and start charging towards them. But before I can lay a finger on them, the grey-suited Horsemen brings out a small, blue cylindrical bottle and sprays it on my face. I slow down, suddenly feeling dizzy. I drop to my knees and fall sideways to the ground.
And then everything goes black…
(Frank's POV)
"That's excellent news, Ma'am! I'll let him know," I say. I hang up and rush out of HQ to find Tom.
The Head of MI9 just called me to tell me that the court date for Vargas has been set for next week Monday. Meaning that Tom will testify against Vargas and his boys then go back to his normal life.
I step out of the caretaker storage cupboard and into the corridor, where I bump right into Tom. I'm about to tell him the good news when I see the solemn look on his face.
"Tom? What's wrong?" I ask.
"The Horsemen! They're here at St Hope's!" he tells me breathlessly. "They know I'm here."
"What?!" I murmur. "Where are Rose, Carrie and Oscar?"
"Unconscious. The Horsemen must have used something to knock them out. But you've got to come with me right now! Jenny needs help…"
"Jenny?" I cry, widening my eyes in shock.
"We have to go help her – now!"
I race after Tom as he sprints through the school. He leads me through the corridor, down the stairs and out through the doors to the playground. I stop suddenly at the bottom of the steps to see two members of the Horsemen bundle Jenny in the back seat of a black car.
"No! Jenny!" I shout.
I run full speed across the playground to the black car, but the Horsemen jump in the car and take off before I can reach it.
"No! No! No!" I cry. I skid to a halt in the middle of the road, watching in dismay as the car rounds a corner at the end of the road. "Jenny…" I say weakly.
I hear footsteps approach me, but I don't move – I don't even turn my head. I just stare at the corner that the car turned.
"Frank, what's going on? What's happened?" I hear Rose ask.
"They've taken her," I say numbly. "They've taken Jenny."
"Who's taken Jenny?"
I feel as if I'd swallowed a wad of chewing gum and it has gotten stuck in my throat.
"Frank!"
"The Horsemen," I say finally. "The Horsemen have got Jenny."