Chapters (88)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dear Reader …
- Also by Robert Muchamore
- PART ONE
- Walter J Freeman Adolescent Mental Health Unit – East Grinstead, UK
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- PART TWO
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- PART THREE
- Walter J. Freeman Adolescent Mental Health Unit – East Grinstead, UK
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- PART FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- EPILOGUE
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- Have you read KILLER T?
- 1 SLASHED RUBBER
- 2 NOT HARRY POTTER
As one of the race stewards hustled the interviewer off stage, a green signal light came on, indicating that the damaged gate was fixed and the course ready to race. As the slowest qualifier, Georgia had to cross the stage to a marked space on the far side. Van Hooten was in her way, shaking hands with another qualifier.
‘Ronnie, you massive vagina!’ Van Hooten tooted. ‘I might let you have second!’
When he saw Georgia, Van Hooten’s booming laugh erupted again. ‘I am aghast! You must be the most beautiful Rage Cola girl I’ve ever seen.’
‘I’m not a …’ Georgia said, but tailed off when she figured him out.
The headset and control unit made it obvious Georgia was a pilot. Van Hooten was trying to wind her up.
‘You staying in town tonight, beautiful?’ he continued. ‘Can I buy you a cocktail?’
‘I’m fourteen, pervert,’ Georgia growled, loud enough for plenty of people to hear.
Van Hooten was only flustered for an instant. ‘Hey, Ackroyd,’ he said, smacking another contestant on the back. ‘She’s fourteen, but that doesn’t usually stop you, does it?’
Georgia shuddered. What a dirtbag … There wasn’t much of a crowd for a qualifying tournament on a weekday, but Georgia still felt self-conscious. The youngest pilot on stage. The only girl. She imagined eyes crawling up her back.
All those creeps looking at my arse.
‘Pilots, one minute,’ a race steward shouted as a bank of red lights began flashing over gate one, twenty metres in front of the launch line.
Georgia realised how skilfully Van Hooten had messed with her head. She hadn’t switched on her control unit, or properly adjusted the controller strapped around her neck. She’d forgotten to check the batteries on her FPV goggles and it was now too late to change them if they were low.
Just breathe … The meter inside the goggles said they were good for sixty-three minutes, and the race would last less than six. Drone battery was one hundred per cent, video signal a full five bars, no diagnostic warning lights …
‘Knock ’em dead, Georgia,’ John shouted, making her even more embarrassed.
Georgia felt weirdly sentimental about her dad as she pushed down her headset and moved into another world. Now she saw through the drone’s eye, face sweating, thumbs on the control sticks. Five red lights about to turn green …
THREE
As Gabe ran down the stepped path to meet Simeon the bodyguard, Julius rushed back to high school to change out of uniform.
He emerged from the driest-floored toilet cubicle he’d been able to find in market-stall sunglasses, a long-sleeve no-brand T-shirt, cargo shorts with a torn pocket and Vans with soles worn smooth. He’d bought a ton of fancy skateboarder clothes on his last trip to London, but wearing good stuff in the city was like having a Please rob me sign around your neck.