Jimmy Coates: Killer

“OK, listen, I won’t tell anybody you’re here, but when I get home from school we’re going to check out your superpowers,” said Felix. In a flash he was dressed and out of the door, sprinting up the road – very late.

“It doesn’t feel like having superpowers,” said Jimmy as the front door clicked shut. Felix’s mother put her hand on the back of Jimmy’s neck.

“Go and get some sleep. And don’t worry about your family. I’m sure they’re fine, wherever they are.”

Jimmy dropped his head and yawned. He was so tired he had stopped thinking straight a long time ago. He pictured the faces of his parents and his sister as he crawled up the stairs and into the unfamiliar bed. The spare room was too tidy, too clinical to be homely. It was obvious nobody stayed in there much.

The fact that it was light outside didn’t matter. Jimmy closed his eyes and let his body curl into a ball. He didn’t feel as excited about any of this as Felix obviously did. He certainly didn’t feel like a superhero. He felt awful.

“He makes bottle tops, for God’s sake. Who could possibly want to kidnap Ian Coates?” Felix’s mother was pacing the kitchen, trying hard to keep her voice down so as not to wake Jimmy.

“Jimmy thinks they’re after him. Have you phoned the house again?”

“Still no answer. But that doesn’t mean anything, does it?”

“I don’t know.” Felix’s father rubbed his face with his hand, trying to banish the shock of a strange morning. He allowed himself a moment of self-pity. He worked so hard as it was, he didn’t need to be woken up extra early by a runaway child. He put the kettle on again and shook his head. His dark jowls jiggled as if they had just woken up. “What should we do?” he asked, finally.

“I’m phoning the police.” Olivia Muzbeke walked over to the phone on the wall and picked up the receiver. Her husband was there in a flash.

“You can’t do that,” he said, and put his hand across the phone.

“Leave me alone, I’m calling the police. If Jimmy is telling the truth and something has happened to the Coates, then the police need to know.”

“If Jimmy is telling the truth, then the police are also trying to catch him.” Felix’s mother knew her husband was right. She put down the phone.

“What if he’s done something wrong?” she said as she poured yet more tea.

“You know him better than I do. Has he ever been in trouble before?”

“No.”

“Has he ever done anything he shouldn’t have?”

“He stuck my meat knife in his arm.”

Mr Muzbeke sighed. He looked up at the clock and thought about going to work. “We can let him stay for a couple of days. Until we know what’s going on. But don’t tell anybody he’s here, and don’t call the police. Not yet.”

“That’s so silly. It’s all so ridiculous, Neil…”

“Just in case. The state this country’s in, I wouldn’t be surprised if the police decided to abduct an innocent family. Would you?”

“OK. A couple of days.”

Jimmy slept a long time, but still didn’t feel rested when he woke up. It had been happening quite a lot recently. He would wake up with the impression that he’d had a nightmare, but couldn’t remember what it was. And he hardly ever felt properly rested. He opened his eyes and wondered what the time was. There was no clock in the room. All he could think about when he looked at the light coming through the curtains was that he’d jumped out of a similar window the night before. Suddenly he was filled with anxiety. What if the Muzbekes had told someone he was there? What if Felix had blabbed at school? He was a good friend and he’d never put Jimmy in danger deliberately, but he was always giving secrets away by accident.

An image jumped into Jimmy’s mind that was too real for comfort. It was the picture of the Muzbekes’ house surrounded by men in black suits, with their thin black ties oozing down their fronts. Then he pictured them in the kitchen, being served tea by Olivia Muzbeke, just waiting for Jimmy to come downstairs.

He shut his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but all the tension from the night before had rushed back into his body. He slipped down below the duvet, wishing he could stay there for ever, but quickly got too hot.

Downstairs, Felix was guzzling toast in front of the TV. There was toast waiting for Jimmy too. Felix’s mother must have heard him getting up.

“Hiya, Jimmy, how’s your arm?” Felix almost shouted this, and bounded over to punch Jimmy on the shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Lemme see.” Jimmy showed Felix his wrist and kept it held out while he sat down and started eating his toast. He let the images from the TV go into his brain without paying attention and felt Felix prodding around his cut.

“That’s so cool.”

“All right, get off it now.” Jimmy pulled his arm back.

“Can I cut off your hand?” said Felix.

“What?” Jimmy glared at Felix, before he realised he was joking. Felix laughed, and after a second Jimmy did too. “How was school?”

“OK, I suppose.” Felix shrugged, “Miss Bennett nearly didn’t even notice you were missing when she took the register.”

The more they chatted, the more ridiculous the events of the night before seemed. The danger started fading in Jimmy’s mind; he didn’t know why anybody was after him, so there didn’t appear to be much point being afraid. But as the fear dwindled, in its place came a long, slow ache. The memory of his parents being driven away tore at his mind. Suddenly he knew what it meant to miss somebody.

“We should go and find them,” Felix said brightly, with toast crumbs all over his face. “Your parents, I mean.”

“What?”

“Well, you said we can’t call the police, and they’ve disappeared, right? Taken by these strange men in suits.” He said it like it was the name of an alien race, and waved his hands in front of him, trying to look spooky.

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