Mind Blind Read Online Free Page A
Author: Lari Don
overwhelming. Perhaps I’ll get a motorbike when I’m old enough, so I can wear black leather from head to toe for the rest of my life.
I sat on my own, studying the map. After about twenty minutes, Roy turned round and flicked the corner of the printout. “Nearly there, mate. Are you ready?”
We checked we had all the essentials. Cash, in case we got stranded. False ID, in case we got lifted. Masks, mobile phones and microphones. Then we all pulled on stripy green-and-blue school ties, badly knotted and deliberately squint.
We couldn’t hang around outside the school before the final bell – we’d look like truants. Also Malcolm said that the target was never first out of the door. So we stayed in the vehicles until we heard shrill ringing, then got swiftly into position.
All four teams were in place by the time pupils started to come out of Winslow Academy’s wide green doors and down the dozen steps to the street.
Team 1 was the grab team – Daniel and Martha, Malcolm’s kids and the most efficient readers in our generation. They were out of sight, in the alley, inside the van driven by Uncle Paul, our usual getaway driver. Both of them were already masked, waiting to leap out and grab the target as she went past.
Team 2 was the follow team – Becky and Laura, Roy’s big sisters. They were waiting at the bottom of the steps. Teenage girls don’t expect to be followed by other teenage girls, so Becky and Laura walking behind the target wouldn’t make her suspicious. Neither of them were strong readers, but all they had to do was follow a target in plain sight.
Team 3 was the advance team – two readers leaningagainst a wall further down the road. No one expects to be followed by someone in front, but if you can anticipate where a target is going, you can keep ahead of them and make sure nothing gets in the way of the job. The advance team was Roy, who can’t read worth a damn but is smarter than the rest of us, and Sam, who can read well enough but lacks Roy’s brains.
Team 4 was the loser team, just there to pick up rubbish.
I was in team 4. Obviously. Me and Roy’s little brother. Like all Auntie Susan’s kids, Josh is a fairly weak reader, and he’s only just turned twelve. So he’s the rookie and I’m the wimp. Team 4. Team Loser.
Josh and I were stationed opposite the school, to watch the pupils leaving and to act as the main contact with the senior readers, so the active teams didn’t have to walk and talk at the same time. Once the target was en route, we’d circle round to the other end of the alley, so we could clear away any evidence after the grab.
We were the bin men. But at least we were out on the job this time, rather than sitting back at base doing homework.
Normal boys hanging about outside a school would probably moan about their parents or make admiring comments about passing girls. But we were wearing throat mikes and earpieces, so our family could hear every word we said. We would only talk if it was relevant to the job.
I said, “You all set?”
Josh answered, “Yeah.”
And that was it. Male bonding on the job.
Josh stood beside me fiddling with his phone, while I perched on a low wall, leaning against a lamppost. I was trying to look casual, but I also knew that standing upright might be a bit of a struggle in the next few minutes. Because we were now watching a stream of kids coming out of Winslow Academy.
Dozens of them, then hundreds, pouring out of the doors,barging around each other, then hanging about at the bottom of the steps. Most of the kids were wearing ties, but this wasn’t a school with blazers, so there was a colourful mix of denim jackets, cardigans, hoodies, duffel coats and even a few unfortunate anoraks.
I could see them, and hear them yelling and chatting.
I could sense them too.
I could sense every single emotion, of every person in that crowd. Waves of emotion were crashing into me, knocking me off balance.
More pupils flowed out of
I sat on my own, studying the map. After about twenty minutes, Roy turned round and flicked the corner of the printout. “Nearly there, mate. Are you ready?”
We checked we had all the essentials. Cash, in case we got stranded. False ID, in case we got lifted. Masks, mobile phones and microphones. Then we all pulled on stripy green-and-blue school ties, badly knotted and deliberately squint.
We couldn’t hang around outside the school before the final bell – we’d look like truants. Also Malcolm said that the target was never first out of the door. So we stayed in the vehicles until we heard shrill ringing, then got swiftly into position.
All four teams were in place by the time pupils started to come out of Winslow Academy’s wide green doors and down the dozen steps to the street.
Team 1 was the grab team – Daniel and Martha, Malcolm’s kids and the most efficient readers in our generation. They were out of sight, in the alley, inside the van driven by Uncle Paul, our usual getaway driver. Both of them were already masked, waiting to leap out and grab the target as she went past.
Team 2 was the follow team – Becky and Laura, Roy’s big sisters. They were waiting at the bottom of the steps. Teenage girls don’t expect to be followed by other teenage girls, so Becky and Laura walking behind the target wouldn’t make her suspicious. Neither of them were strong readers, but all they had to do was follow a target in plain sight.
Team 3 was the advance team – two readers leaningagainst a wall further down the road. No one expects to be followed by someone in front, but if you can anticipate where a target is going, you can keep ahead of them and make sure nothing gets in the way of the job. The advance team was Roy, who can’t read worth a damn but is smarter than the rest of us, and Sam, who can read well enough but lacks Roy’s brains.
Team 4 was the loser team, just there to pick up rubbish.
I was in team 4. Obviously. Me and Roy’s little brother. Like all Auntie Susan’s kids, Josh is a fairly weak reader, and he’s only just turned twelve. So he’s the rookie and I’m the wimp. Team 4. Team Loser.
Josh and I were stationed opposite the school, to watch the pupils leaving and to act as the main contact with the senior readers, so the active teams didn’t have to walk and talk at the same time. Once the target was en route, we’d circle round to the other end of the alley, so we could clear away any evidence after the grab.
We were the bin men. But at least we were out on the job this time, rather than sitting back at base doing homework.
Normal boys hanging about outside a school would probably moan about their parents or make admiring comments about passing girls. But we were wearing throat mikes and earpieces, so our family could hear every word we said. We would only talk if it was relevant to the job.
I said, “You all set?”
Josh answered, “Yeah.”
And that was it. Male bonding on the job.
Josh stood beside me fiddling with his phone, while I perched on a low wall, leaning against a lamppost. I was trying to look casual, but I also knew that standing upright might be a bit of a struggle in the next few minutes. Because we were now watching a stream of kids coming out of Winslow Academy.
Dozens of them, then hundreds, pouring out of the doors,barging around each other, then hanging about at the bottom of the steps. Most of the kids were wearing ties, but this wasn’t a school with blazers, so there was a colourful mix of denim jackets, cardigans, hoodies, duffel coats and even a few unfortunate anoraks.
I could see them, and hear them yelling and chatting.
I could sense them too.
I could sense every single emotion, of every person in that crowd. Waves of emotion were crashing into me, knocking me off balance.
More pupils flowed out of
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