The newsreader was the kind of highlighted blonde who dominated every news channel in America. 'In a terrifying reprise of the Three Cities Attack earlier this year, the power was dramatically switched off in four different cities for precisely one hour this morning,' she was saying.
Josh put his arm around Kate's shoulder, watching the news intently. He could feel the tension rippling through her as he held her body next to his.
'At precisely nine o'clock this morning the power got switched off in Orlando, Seattle, in the historic holiday town of Jamestown in New York State, and in Harrison in Tennessee. In each incident, the power shutdown caused widespread panic and confusion. Road systems stopped working, factories, office buildings and schools had to be closed and hospitals had to shut their doors since even their emergency back-up generators couldn't cope with the demand for electricity. Although the power has now been restored in each city, reports are coming in of several injuries in both Seattle and Orlando, mainly caused by traffic accidents as the street lights went down. Air traffic control was suspended in the cities, and all flights in and out have had to be diverted. There are also reports of widespread looting in Orlando as local police failed to stop panic spreading through the streets.'
'So what caused this latest blackout? There is plenty of
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speculation about a terrorist assault, just as there was with the Three Cities Attack earlier this year. Some people are saying that it could have been a blow against Microsoft because Seattle was one of the cities where the power was shut down and that is where the software giant is based. Other people are saying it could be an attack on the Kennedy Space Centre, based near Orlando, although no rocket launches were scheduled for this morning.'
'A spokesman for the White House said that they were at this stage ruling out the possibility of a terrorist attack, and that a full investigation was now under way into how the power failed in four cities across the United States at precisely the same moment. The White House is due to make a fuller statement later today. After this break, we go over live to our correspondent in Orlando to find out how local people are coping with the aftermath of the blackout.'
Josh looked towards Kate. 'Luke,' he said simply. 'He's still out there.'
'Or his software,' said Kate. 'Maybe somebody else has got hold of it by now.'
'You think they took Marshall?'
'Maybe they killed him?'
Josh shook his head. 'You see any sign of a struggle?' he replied. 'Blood on the floor? Gunshot holes in the wall? No. I reckon if they had taken Marshall there would have been a fight. He left before they got here.'
She's brave, thought Josh. Her father has disappeared, and yet she appears confident that he's pkay. Maybe she just has a lot of faith in the old guy.
'But they've linked the two of us,' said Josh. 'I reckon they got Marshall's name from Madge before they killed her. That's why they came out here. Whoever did this, they now know that you and Marshall have been helping me.'
Kate walked to the back of the hallway. A computer was plugged into the wall, and although the cable linking the
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screen to the keyboard and the power box had been ripped apart it looked to have been undamaged. Kate spent a few seconds checking the machine, then fired it up. 'That number you took, the man who called Flatner telling him to find you,' she said. 'Have you still got it?'
'We haven't got enough time,' snapped Josh. 'How the hell do we know when they'll be back?'
'We have to know for certain,' said Kate. 'Without that, we have nothing.'
Josh sat down next to her. There was a stillness to the house. The sun was beating down outside, its rays spilling across the broken and scattered furniture. There was not even a hint of a breeze and the insects that populated the yard had fallen quiet. Josh read out the number that he had already committed to memory. '08732 611544.'
/ may not remember much, but I can remember that.
Josh watched as Kate fired up the Internet connection. She was searching through a succession of different websites, then sent out some e-mail from her Hotmail address. Her expression was one of total concentration: her stage was fixed on the screen and her fingers were moving swiftly across the keyboard. In her left hand, she was playing with a pencil, toying with it in her mouth as if it was a cigarette. She looks just the way she was when I first opened my eyes.
Standing up from the desk, Josh started to walk back through the shattered house. Sometimes it was best to give people a few moments to^themselves, he decided. He started sorting through some of the rubbish, trying to figure out what kinds of weapons had been used. Some sharp knives, he figured. An axe. Maybe a hammer and a wrench. The bastards brought a whole branch of B&O with them.
The yard was empty. Josh stood outside, shielding his eyes from the burning sun. He looked out across the dusty plain, his eyes scanning the horizon for any kind of movement.
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Nothing. The landscape looked lifeless. Whoever had come here, they had left no trace of themselves.
/ won't be sorry to see the back of this godforsaken country.
He took a sip of water, trying to clear the headache that was scratching against the inside of his skull. What the hell am I doing? he wondered to himself. Why don't I just hand myself in to the police?
'Found it,' shouted Kate from the back of the corridor.
Josh walked swiftly back to where she was sitting. She was leaning into the computer. He looked down. On the screen, he could see an e-mail, but it seemed to have been sent from an anonymous account. The words were printed in small bold lettering. 'The number 08732 611544 is a private cellphone number operated by Verizon Wireless. The account is registered in the name of a Mr Edward Porter.'
'So it's him,' breathed Josh. 'That's the fucker who sent Flatner to kill me.'
Kate nodded, her expression impassive.
'It's starting to make sense,' said Josh. 'Luke and Ben hacked into their software. So they want to kill him. That figures. Unless the software is invulnerable to attack, no city anywhere is going to want to install it to manage their power system. Those two boys could end up costing that company billions of dollars.'
Josh turned away, looking towards the kitchen. 'But why do they want to kill me?' he said. 'I don't get it. I just don't get it.' A
'Maybe they don't want to kill you, Josh.'
He looked at Kate, puzzled.
'Maybe they want to find you,' she continued.
'What for?' snapped Josh. 'What the hell for?'
'Maybe you know something, Josh -- don't you see?' said Kate.
Josh turned to face her. Her voice sounded raw and
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ragged. 'But what?' he said coldly. 'What do I know?'
'Think, Josh,' she said, her voice sounding choked. 'Can't you remember anything? Anything at all?'
Josh slammed his fist down on the sideboard, the wood, already splintered and broken, shaking under the force of the blow. Some dust fell to the floor. 'I can't bloody remember, I tell you,' he shouted. 'This is useless. I need a hospital, I need the police.'
'No, Josh, no,' said Kate.
Her voice sounded suddenly scared, desperately anxious. She rushed to him, putting her arms around his body and hugging him to her chest. 'It's going to be okay, baby'
Josh shook his head. 'I need help.'
7'rn here to help you,' she said.
'You go to the police, a hospital, Porter will know about it, then kill you,' said Kate. 'Hell, if they think you had anything to do with shutting down the power system, they might not even bother to question you first. We need to fix this together. We need to find Luke.'
Josh took a sip of his water. A single sentence was drumming through his mind. She's right. She's right.
'I need to know more about Porter,' said Josh. 'You have to know what sort of man your enemy is.'
Josh sat down at the computer. In the next twenty minutes, he started to compile a brief biography of Edward Porter, culled from the archives of a dozen different business magazines. Porter had been born in California in 1950, and had graduated from Berkeley in physics and computing. He'd spent two years in the 5th Marine Regiment, fighting in Vietnam, but had left the armed forces after being wounded in the leg. Next, he'd spent five years working first for IBM, then for Cray Supercomputers. He'd founded Porter-Bell in 1977 with a partner, Sam Bell, but Bell had left the company in 1980. It had grown rapidly in the 1980s, first with a series of military contracts, then expanding into
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building city and industrial systems. As factories and power systems became automated during that decade, Porter-Bell developed and built the software that controlled them. It made a fortune.
In 1992, the company listed on the NASDAQ technology exchange, making Porter an instant billionaire. He was now estimated to be worth at least ten billion dollars, and Porter Bell dominated its sector of the market. Twice divorced, with a string of mistresses, Porter had a reputation as a mean, combative entrepreneur, who ran his company with ruthless discipline and crushed the competition with relentless ferocity. Scouring the web, Josh found that there were countless articles testifying to the ferocity with which rivals who tried to muscle in on Porter-Bell's territory were flattened. For the last two years, the US Justice Department had been trying to prosecute the company for a series of anti-trust violations, but its lawyers had fought the actions all the way.
'We have to find Morant and O'Brien,' said Josh. 'Maybe they will know where Marshall is. And if they don't, they'll be able to get us guns and ammunition, and maybe even reinforcements.'
'We don't need weapons, Josh.'
'What the hell do we need, then?'
'We need your memory back. That's the only way we can get to Luke before Porter and Flatner get to them. That's what this is all about. We have to get to Luke before they do.'
'But where is he?'
Kate stood closer to him/You know where he is, Josh,' she said softly. 'You just need to remember, that's all.'
The road twisted ahead of them. Kate was driving the Mustang, steering it along the road that led away from the house and out into the mountains. A truck passed, then
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a car, but there was no sign of any patrol cars, nor of any of Flatner's bikers.
The road is safe, thought Josh. For now.
'How far?' he asked.
'A couple of miles,' said Kate.
She was driving them to one of their mountain hideouts. This one was thirty miles to the east of Boisdale, in a dusty mountain range that had once been home to a couple of tin mines but had long since been abandoned by everything except a few snakes and the occasional flock of wild cranes. Kate knew that Morant and O'Brien moved from camp to camp and she had a good hunch that this was where they would find them. For five hundred dollars, they could equip Kate and Josh with a pair of mules and enough food to last them for a month: they could collect water from creeks and wells out in the scrub. Morant would give them a map of the water sources that the survivalists used and the caves they slept in at night. They knew this terrain better than anyone else alive. It won't be comfortable, thought Josh when Kate explained it to him, but we'll survive.
The plan, thought Josh, running it afresh through his mind, was to get out into open country. His sense was that if Luke was hiding, it would be out there somewhere. He didn't have the resources or the knowledge to travel far, not without being detected. And if anyone can find him, we can. Then, maybe, he can tell me what happened.
Dusk was just starting to fall. The sun was dipping down towards the horizon and. the light was fading. Shadows from the mountains far to the east were lying across the road, spiked and threatening, like snakes lying in wait for their victims. Josh kept his eyes focused on the road, aware that if their enemies knew Kate was helping him, then they could trace this easily enough.
The next few miles will be the most dangerous. Until we get out into the empty country.
*
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A hitch-hiker was thumbing a lift on the side of the road: a boy of eighteen or nineteen, noticed Josh, with a rucksack at his side. For a brief moment, Josh wondered if it might be Luke. 'Keep going,' he muttered to Kate.
Josh checked the rear-view mirror, expecting to see the boy shaking his fist or giving them the finger: cars were rare enough on this empty stretch of road for a hitchhiker to be angry with anyone who didn't stop.
But he wasn't doing anything, Josh noticed. He looked hard into the mirror, straining to make out the shape disappearing into the distance. Then he twisted round to get a better look. The boy had turned around, walking a couple of yards off the road. His shoulders were hunched, and he was holding something in his hand. Christ, thought Josh. A mobile. He's making a call.
'Slow down,' he barked.
'What?'
'Slow the bloody car,' repeated Josh.
Kate turned to look at him, fear flashing through her eyes.
'He's a spotter -- that bloody kid's a spotter,' said Josh.
Kate slipped down the gears on the Mustang, putting it into second, letting the car crawl along the road at a nervous twenty miles an hour. Behind them the boy was moving swiftly across the scrubland, his phone still in his hand. He didn't look back. It was impossible to tell whether he knew they'd seen him.
Josh scanned the area, his stare swivelling across the flat empty desert to the west and the rnountain range rising up to the east. He tried to block out the noise of the car, straining to detect any other sounds. We'll hear it soon enough, he said to himself grimly. The sound of attack.
'You going after him?' asked Kate.
Josh shook his head. 'No point,' he snapped. 'He's already told them we're on the road.'
'Any turnings?'
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Josh scanned the road. The tarmac stretched out onto the horizon, as straight as a ruler, with no sign of any crossroads. 'Nothing,' he said bitterly.