shake.
‘What is it made from?’ I ask Tom.
‘Skin,’ he says, matter-of-factly.
I drop it in my lap like it’s burning.
Tom gives another easy laugh. ‘Don’t worry, it hasn’t been sliced off anyone! It’s synthetically engineered.’
I slip the mask on and, with a sucking noise, it clings to my face. It gives me the creeps so I quickly whip it off again.
‘Why don’t you stick it in your rucksack for now? I’ve got several.’
I stuff the mask into the front of my backpack. Maybe 2024 is a bit more different than I realised.
Tom’s phone rings and he brings it to his ear, eyes on the rear-view mirror. ‘Yup?’ he says and then goes quiet, listening to the person on the other end. He glances sharply at
me and his face colours. He’s frowning and then he looks furious. ‘No,’ he says. ‘This isn’t —’
The other voice seems to cut him off. He swears and then slowly lowers the phone.
‘So who was that?’ I say.
There’s a pause big enough to park a bus in before he speaks again. ‘We have to make a detour into the city,’ he says tightly.
‘Where to?’
He pauses again. ‘To the university,’ he says. ‘There’s someone there who wants to meet you.’
‘Oh yeah?’ I say, suspicion spiking my guts. ‘Who?’
Tom looks at me and his eyes are strange. ‘It’s nothing to worry about, Cal. We have someone there – someone on our side – who wants to . . . examine you.’
I don’t know why I’m suddenly prickling all over. Maybe it’s the way Tom is looking dead straight ahead now and gripping the steering wheel, even though we aren’t
moving.
‘What do you mean examine me ?’ I say, slowly.
Tom gives a heavy sigh. ‘Look, there’s no need to freak out about this, OK? But there’s an expert at the university who works for Torch. He wants to carry out some tests
– with your permission, naturally. Tests that may help us understand the Revealer Chip a bit better.’
‘Tests? What tests?’ It’s possible that I’m shouting a bit now. I feel like sirens are going off in my ears and red traffic lights are flashing STOP STOP STOP in front of
my eyes. It’s that word . . . tests.
‘Calm down, Cal!’ says Tom loudly. ‘It’s nothing bad. A couple of brain scans at most. But you can say no. You don’t have to do it.’
Brain scans, tests, brain scans, tests, chips in my brain . . . no, no . . .
‘No! I won’t do it! No one’s going near my brain! Not after what they did to me at the Facility!’
Tom slaps the steering wheel. ‘I knew it was too soon,’ he mutters, ‘I bloody told them . . .’
I’ve got that feeling again, that the walls are all pulsing and coming in at me. I can’t breathe . . .
‘Look,’ says Tom desperately, ‘it’s only so we can properly understand what we’re up against, Cal, that’s all.’
‘You’re just using me!’ Blood pounds inside my head and I’m panting. ‘I heard you and Nathan talking about this before! You only got me out of there so I could be your lab rat instead!’
‘Cal! It’s not like that, buddy, I —’
‘I’m not your buddy ,’ I shout and in one movement I’ve grabbed the backpack and pressed buttons on the car door, praying one of them is what I want it to
be. I tumble out just as the traffic starts to move again but somehow I’ve managed to stay on my feet. Then I’m running. I can hear Tom shouting behind me. I run between houses and past
shops and just keep going, changing direction and ducking down any alleys I see.
I don’t know where I’m heading but I don’t stop running until each breath feels like it’s being ripped from my chest. My nose and throat are coated in something thick and
bleachy smelling. I lean against a wall. Dots dance about in front of my eyes. Is this the miasma Tom talked about? I rummage for the mask in my rucksack. I find the slippery material and pull it
over my head. The snout part snaps into position and it quickly moulds to my face
‘What is it made from?’ I ask Tom.
‘Skin,’ he says, matter-of-factly.
I drop it in my lap like it’s burning.
Tom gives another easy laugh. ‘Don’t worry, it hasn’t been sliced off anyone! It’s synthetically engineered.’
I slip the mask on and, with a sucking noise, it clings to my face. It gives me the creeps so I quickly whip it off again.
‘Why don’t you stick it in your rucksack for now? I’ve got several.’
I stuff the mask into the front of my backpack. Maybe 2024 is a bit more different than I realised.
Tom’s phone rings and he brings it to his ear, eyes on the rear-view mirror. ‘Yup?’ he says and then goes quiet, listening to the person on the other end. He glances sharply at
me and his face colours. He’s frowning and then he looks furious. ‘No,’ he says. ‘This isn’t —’
The other voice seems to cut him off. He swears and then slowly lowers the phone.
‘So who was that?’ I say.
There’s a pause big enough to park a bus in before he speaks again. ‘We have to make a detour into the city,’ he says tightly.
‘Where to?’
He pauses again. ‘To the university,’ he says. ‘There’s someone there who wants to meet you.’
‘Oh yeah?’ I say, suspicion spiking my guts. ‘Who?’
Tom looks at me and his eyes are strange. ‘It’s nothing to worry about, Cal. We have someone there – someone on our side – who wants to . . . examine you.’
I don’t know why I’m suddenly prickling all over. Maybe it’s the way Tom is looking dead straight ahead now and gripping the steering wheel, even though we aren’t
moving.
‘What do you mean examine me ?’ I say, slowly.
Tom gives a heavy sigh. ‘Look, there’s no need to freak out about this, OK? But there’s an expert at the university who works for Torch. He wants to carry out some tests
– with your permission, naturally. Tests that may help us understand the Revealer Chip a bit better.’
‘Tests? What tests?’ It’s possible that I’m shouting a bit now. I feel like sirens are going off in my ears and red traffic lights are flashing STOP STOP STOP in front of
my eyes. It’s that word . . . tests.
‘Calm down, Cal!’ says Tom loudly. ‘It’s nothing bad. A couple of brain scans at most. But you can say no. You don’t have to do it.’
Brain scans, tests, brain scans, tests, chips in my brain . . . no, no . . .
‘No! I won’t do it! No one’s going near my brain! Not after what they did to me at the Facility!’
Tom slaps the steering wheel. ‘I knew it was too soon,’ he mutters, ‘I bloody told them . . .’
I’ve got that feeling again, that the walls are all pulsing and coming in at me. I can’t breathe . . .
‘Look,’ says Tom desperately, ‘it’s only so we can properly understand what we’re up against, Cal, that’s all.’
‘You’re just using me!’ Blood pounds inside my head and I’m panting. ‘I heard you and Nathan talking about this before! You only got me out of there so I could be your lab rat instead!’
‘Cal! It’s not like that, buddy, I —’
‘I’m not your buddy ,’ I shout and in one movement I’ve grabbed the backpack and pressed buttons on the car door, praying one of them is what I want it to
be. I tumble out just as the traffic starts to move again but somehow I’ve managed to stay on my feet. Then I’m running. I can hear Tom shouting behind me. I run between houses and past
shops and just keep going, changing direction and ducking down any alleys I see.
I don’t know where I’m heading but I don’t stop running until each breath feels like it’s being ripped from my chest. My nose and throat are coated in something thick and
bleachy smelling. I lean against a wall. Dots dance about in front of my eyes. Is this the miasma Tom talked about? I rummage for the mask in my rucksack. I find the slippery material and pull it
over my head. The snout part snaps into position and it quickly moulds to my face
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