Becoming Zodiak Read online

Page 4


  “No way. Absolutely no way,” he bellowed. “That was friendly fire! It doesn’t count. You cheated, kid, and now I’m going to end this game properly.”

  The smile disappeared off Jimmy’s face and he dropped his gun, raising his hands in supplication. “Hey, Dale, there’s no need—”

  “Put that gun down, now!” The same voice that had called the game to an end rang through the trees as heavy footfalls approached. A thickset man dressed in head-to-toe black with the word MARSHAL written across his back in bright orange letters shoved in between Jimmy and Dale. He slapped the paintball rifle out of Dale’s hands.

  “Okay, okay,” Dale hissed. “But this ain’t fair. We shot each other. He didn’t even shoot.”

  The marshal wiped his glove across the green paint on Dale’s chest.

  “It looks to me like he got you good and proper,” he said before he turned to Jimmy. “And that was without doubt the cleverest way I’ve ever seen a game won out here. Awesome, Jim.” He turned to the rest of them and repeated, “Green Team wins.”

  Dale spat on the ground and turned his back on Jimmy and the marshal as another guy wearing a green headband came stumbling in through the trees.

  “Jimmy! That was amazing!”

  Jimmy eyeballed him for a moment. “Um, Shane? What happened to you?”

  Shane looked down at himself. He was absolutely covered in blue paint and even had some in his light brown hair. He was shorter than Jimmy and a little bit more round in the face and belly.

  “Oh, yeah. I got shot.” He paused. “Okay, I got shot a lot, but you won us the match! We’ve never beaten these guys before.”

  “That’s ’cause they’re, like, three years older than us, Shane.”

  “And you still beat them!”

  Jimmy shrugged, then grinned. The pair swapped a high five.

  The marshal then shouted out so everyone could hear him. “Okay, guys, safety catches on your guns and back to the clubhouse for lunch.”

  Jimmy picked up his gun and put his arm around Shane’s shoulders as they followed the marshal down a path between the trees.

  Dale watched them as they went before he turned to his friends. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and shook his head.

  “This isn’t over,” he snarled. “The marshals can’t be ’round all day.”

  10

  Jimmy stood under the shower and let the hot water pound down on his head. Steam rose around him as he raked his blonde hair back from his forehead and finally cut off the stream. He grabbed his towel and scrubbed himself dry before stepping out into the changing rooms. Everyone else had already left. After he had punched the code into his locker, he pulled on his clothes as hastily as he could, blue jeans and a white t-shirt, and stuffed his kit bag back inside. He tapped his code again, securing the locker, and hurried through to the recreation room.

  The clubhouse was full, as it was most weekends, with a mixture of boys and girls of all ages. Every kid spent Saturdays and Sundays playing sports, and as far as Jimmy was concerned, paintballing was just about the most fun that could be had. It was lucky for him that he’d gotten good at it, that he was impressively accurate with the guns as well as—it turned out—being a clever tactician.

  Plates of food were being passed to the children via a serving hatch along one wall while a massive flat screen television, the sound muted, broadcasted the latest news from across the country. No one was paying any attention to it, and those not eating or queuing for food were playing table tennis or chatting. Even if the television had been on full volume, it would have been hard to hear over the ruckus the kids were making.

  Jimmy picked Shane out of the crowd in a second. He was in the far corner of the room, attempting to talk to two girls clearly a couple of years older than him. Jimmy walked towards him, receiving more than a few compliments and pats on the back as he went.

  “Way to go, Jimmy.”

  “Good skills, man.”

  “Awesome, dude.”

  He smiled, shrugged or said thanks depending upon the comment, and finally he made it across to Shane and his new “friends”.

  “So you two really are brothers?” one of the girls—pretty, with long blonde hair—asked when she saw Jimmy.

  “We sure are,” Shane answered before Jimmy could reply.

  “Twins?” the dark-haired girl asked.

  Jimmy raised an index finger but Shane beat him to it.

  “Born on the same day! May first, 2036.”

  “But you look nothing alike,” replied the blonde girl.

  “Hang on. 2036? So you guys are…fourteen?” her friend asked.

  “Um, yeah,” Shane said, while Jimmy put his head in his hands.

  “Um, bye,” the girls said in unison, and they walked off.

  Shane watched them go, then turned to his brother, perplexed. “What did I say?”

  “You talked to people. Again,” Jimmy snickered. “I’ve warned you about that—”

  “Yeah and I warned you this wasn’t over.”

  Jimmy turned barged through the crowd of kids and pushed Jimmy in the chest.

  Jimmy took a step backwards, looked up at Dale and the two goons he had flanking him before saying, “No you didn’t.”

  “Yeah, I did!”

  “Not to me you didn’t,” Jimmy shrugged, glancing around the room, hoping one of the adults would notice what was going on.

  “He’s right,” one of Dale’s friends said. “You just told us.”

  Dale turned and stared at him. “Whose side are you on?” He turned back to face Jimmy. “Forget it! You cheated.”

  “I didn’t cheat,” Jimmy replied. “I just won.” Jimmy said and put his right hand out. “It’s just a game. Let’s shake and move on.”

  “You cheated.” Dale pushed him in the chest again.

  Shane leapt in between them. “Hey, leave it out!”

  One of Dale’s friends shoved Shane and he slipped, falling to the floor. Everyone in the recreation room stopped what they were doing and turned. This type of thing never happened and no one could take their eyes off it. Silence fell across the room.

  “That’s my brother,” Jimmy growled through gritted teeth. “Back off, Dale. You really don’t want to fight me.”

  “Maybe I do,” Dale snarled, and he threw a punch right at Jimmy’s face.

  Jimmy saw it coming, had seen it before the older boy probably realized what he was going to do, and easily stepped aside. Dale almost lost his balance as his fist connected with air. Most of the kids in the clubhouse gasped. A few let out high-pitched, nervous laughs.

  “Please, I don’t want to fight you,” Jimmy implored, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he concentrated on keeping out of Dale’s range. He kept his hands at his sides, hoping this showed Dale he wasn’t trying to fight back, hoping that his demeanor would calm the older boy down.

  It didn’t work.

  With a roar, Dale charged at Jimmy, who again deftly ducked out of the way. This time he left a leg trailing behind and Dale fell over it, tripping over the floor until he was lying next to the prone Shane.

  “Hi, I’m Shane.” Jimmy’s brother smiled. “And he’s Jimmy Taurus.”

  Dale stiffened. “He…he’s…”

  “Oh, man,” one of Dale’s friends said incredulously. “Jimmy Taurus? You’re the kid whose stepdad is Brian Mills, right?”

  Keeping an eye on the now terrified Dale, Jimmy pulled Shane to his feet.

  “Kind of,” he murmured, then said louder, “Brian is our foster father, and he’s taught me everything he knows.”

  “Who’s Brian Mills?” Dale’s other friend asked.

  “Don’t you watch sport? It’s the only good thing on television,” Dale said with cold despondency. “Brian Mills is the ultimate fighting champion, the best mixed martial artist in the world.”

  He paused and finally met Jimmy’s eyes. “And I’m really sorry.”

  Jimmy reached out and they shoo
k hands. “I don’t fight, but if you touch me or my brother again, I’ll have to.”

  Two marshals ran into the room then and Jimmy immediately began to defend his part in the ruckus, but they ignored all of the children and zeroed in on the television, turning the volume up as high as it would go.

  “Kids,” one of them said. “You have to see this.”

  11

  The room was blanketed in silence. Everyone forgot about Jimmy and Dale and turned to face the television.

  The WWW News logo—red white and blue—burst across the screen to a triumphant fanfare and then faded away, showing the two primetime hosts sat at a desk.

  “Welcome back to WWW Primetime. I’m Jennifer James,” said the blonde woman before she turned to her co-host.

  “And I’m Owen Morten,” he said. His hair and his smile were as slick as his clothes. “WWW News is proud to bring you an exclusive story concerning Zodiak, the crime-fighting team that has kept our streets safe these past five years.”

  He paused for a second and was replaced by a team photo of Zodiak.

  “Their names and faces have become as familiar to us as those of our own family and friends,” he continued. “Led by the mysterious Virgo and the former Member of Parliament Lord Andrew Crabbe, better known to some as his Zodiak call sign, Cancer, Zodiak has been as vital in removing the criminal elements from our cities as the passing of the Entertainment Laws of 2042. But all of that changed just a few short weeks ago… Jennifer?”

  The screen changed to footage of the bank raid that had been played over and over again on WWW News. It showed the robbers pulling up in their white van and running into the bank, and then through a series of highlights advanced the scene to Taurus being led away by Scorpio and Aries. Over the footage, Jennifer James gave a summary of events.

  “Yes, Owen. These were the scenes in Liverpool that led to Martin Bull, also known as Taurus, quitting Zodiak for good after the crack crime-fighting unit had stopped an armed robbery. He has publicly stated that it was seeing such crime return to his home city that prompted his decision. A former junior sporting superstar, Martin, now twenty-two years old, chose a life in Zodiak instead of a life in the boxing ring and his talents were not wasted. However, he could easily have turned to a life of crime himself. His parents died when he was just three years of age in car crash, and he grew up in time when crime levels were soaring. Martin, thankfully for us, chose Zodiak. The weeks leading up to this event had seen an unprecedented number of criminal incidents, and the pressure seems to have finally become too much for one member of this impressive team.”

  The picture on the screen flipped back to the studio shot of the two studio anchors. In the recreation room the children and marshals continued to watch, still and mainly silent.

  Shane turned to Jimmy and whispered far too loudly, “Lucky the cameras were there,” before he was quickly hushed.

  “Since this event, Zodiak has seldom been seen in public, and there has been much debate about whether the team will continue with eleven members,” Owen said with a look of deep concern painted across his face. “After all, each member is named after a sign of the zodiac, and there are, and always have been, twelve of them. That brings us to today’s intriguing announcement. Jennifer, over to you.”

  The blonde woman’s steely expression had now been replaced with a wide smile.

  “Intriguing indeed, Owen. Our station’s chief executive and owner, William Walsh, has met with Virgo and Lord Crabbe and steps have been put in place to find a successor to Taurus. I can now officially announce that WWW News will host a live sporting competition where one of you could become the new Taurus!”

  She paused for dramatic effect. In the recreation room, the mouths dropped open in shock and exciting murmurings replaced the silence.

  “To enter, fill in the application form on our WWW News website, but please remember these key points…”

  Jennifer was replaced by a screen of text that she read out.

  “You must have a name linked to the zodiac sign Taurus.”

  Shane turned to Jimmy and grinned.

  “You must be under twenty-one years of age.”

  Shane punched his brother’s shoulder, his eyes wider than car headlights and twice as bright.

  “You must be of acceptable health and registered with at least two official sports clubs.”

  Shane looked like he was going to explode with excitement.

  “You must have been born between April nineteenth and May twentieth.”

  “Jimmy, you’ve got to enter,” he said hysterically.

  “You were born on the same day as me,” Jimmy countered. “You could enter too.”

  “My last name is Michaels,” Shane said sadly.

  “I thought you said you were twins?” asked the blonde girl from before, who happened to be standing close by.

  Shane smiled sheepishly. “Um, kind of. We have the same foster dad. But don’t you think Jimmy could do it?”

  “No chance,” Dale snapped from over his shoulder. “You think you’re a tough guy around here, but you’d freeze in a real-life situation.”

  “And you must be at least fifteen years of age,” Jennifer James concluded.

  Jimmy deflated more quickly that a popped balloon. Dale laughed as he walked away.

  On the television, Owen Morten had taken over. “So if you can put a tick next to those qualifying criteria that Jennifer just shared with you, then we, and Zodiak, want to hear from you. Go to our website to download the application form, and remember you only have four weeks to apply. Here at WWW News, we promise you the very best, the very latest and the most important news on the planet, and…”

  The words faded away. For a moment, Jimmy could only hear his own pulse inside his head.

  When he came back to his sense, Shane was shouting, “Now you’ve just got to enter!”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Shane. I’d have to convince Brian. After all he’s done for me, for us, how can I ask to go off and do this?”

  From behind Jimmy and Shane someone coughed and spoke deeply, “Well…”

  They both turned to be met by a mountain of a man. He wore blue jeans and a black t-shirt, which would have been baggy on anyone else Jimmy or Shane had ever seen, including the members of Zodiak. Even his muscles had muscles.

  “You could just ask nicely,” the man said.

  “Brian!” the brothers cried out at once, and they ran to their foster father, who hugged them both.

  “You’ve always said you’ve had something big ahead of you,” Brian murmured to his older son. “If this is what you want, then of course I’ll support you.”

  “We’ll all support you,” Shane added.

  Unbidden tears sprang to Jimmy’s eyes, and he quickly swiped them away with a shaky smile. “Then I’d better get started on that application.”

  12

  Deep beneath the Welsh mountains in Zodiak’s hidden base, Lord Crabbe pushed his wheelchair along the lengthy corridor that led to the hovership’s hangar. Libra, Scorpio and Sagittarius had sent word that they were due to arrive at any minute with their guest and Crabbe didn’t want to be late. This passageway, more than anywhere else in their headquarters, made Crabbe feel like he was aboard an interstellar spacecraft bound for otherworldly adventures.

  “There’s adventure enough right here, thank you very much,” he muttered to himself as the whirs and creaks of his chair echoed down the hall.

  Crabbe saw such overwhelming adventure even in the technology with which their base had been constructed, so evident just in this route to the hangar. The rounded walls, the pristine white surfaces, the brightness of the place without any indication of direct lighting, the hiss of automatic doors as they pulled apart to let him through every ten metres.

  Crabbe approached the final glass door, and he could see the rest of the team was already there waiting for him and the hovership’s arrival. Virgo was in the middle of them, and wheth
er by direction or by instinct, the remaining members of Zodiak had formed a subtle yet protective wall around her.

  The door scraped open and Crabbe rolled through into the hangar. The room was massive. It could have housed both the Olympic Park and Wembley Stadium four times over, and the furthest wall was a sliding gate the size of three football pitches. The floor and the walls were the same white of the corridors, but the roof was carved out of the rock of the hills above them. The central space remained empty, awaiting the ship’s touchdown, but around the periphery were the rest of the team’s vehicles.

  Capricorn’s submarine, painted a deep sea green and usually housed inside the hovership, was being recharged via a thick electric cable that was coiled against the wall. Her logo was etched on either side of the front porthole with the loops overlapping around the craft’s viewfinder: ♑

  Scorpio’s motorcycle sat next to Leo’s hypercar. The water team’s amphibian, currently being worked on by a crew of repair robots, was on the opposite side, next to Crabbe’s own personal combat vehicle. His eyes lingered on that particular piece of metal for a few seconds longer than any of the others.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve taken you out for a spin, old girl,” he said a little too loudly and immediately realized he’d drawn the attention of the whole team. “Leo, can you confirm the ETA?” he asked, slightly embarrassed by his show of sentiment.

  Leo hit a button on a computer terminal to her left. Instead of her body armor she wore a red tracksuit, and on her shoulder was a patch with her insignia embroidered onto it: ♌

  “Three minutes to landing, Sir,” she said.

  “Good, good.” He approached Virgo, who was flanked by Capricorn and Pisces.

  “Are you sure you are strong enough to be here?”

  Virgo, rigid where she stood, only tilted her head.