Hideout by Jack Heath (iphone ebook reader txt) 📕

for longer than most of the other kids. We were both aware that when we turned eighteen, we’d be kicked out. The day before his birthday, Cedric hung himself with the cord of his bathrobe.

That Cedric was a white, heavy-set teenager, while this Cedric is in his mid-thirties, thin and Black. But if I picture a ring of bruises around his throat, the association is there.

I don’t know any Kyles, so I go for a rhyme. This Kyle, the teenager on the beanbag, has a Hitler-youth kind of look. Pasty, square-jawed, keen to follow orders. I imagine him at a rally, yelling, ‘Sieg Kyle!’

I don’t need any memory tricks to remember Fred’s name. The human brain has evolved to remember dangerous people.

This isn’t the first time I’ve assumed someone else’s identity. Once I dressed as an electrician so I could sneak into a half-constructed house for a shower. Another time I donated sperm for cash using a borrowed ID, because I was too young to do it legally. But now the stakes are higher. If there’s one thing rural Texans love, it’s guns. I might be the only person in this room who isn’t carrying. A single word wrong, and I could get a bullet in my skull.

Donnie, the bulkier of the two gamers, holds out his hand. I shake it. His grip is crushing.

‘Cold hands,’ he says.

‘Cold hands, warm heart,’ I say.

Donnie lets go. ‘My mom used to say that.’

‘What do you bench, bro?’ I don’t know exactly what this means, but I’ve heard gym junkies say it to each other like a greeting.

He shrugs modestly. ‘Two hundred, back in the day.’

I give a nod that could be interpreted as impressed or encouraging, depending on whether two hundred is high or low.

No one else tries to shake my hand.

Fred is unwinding his scarf. ‘Lux made some of our most requested videos.’

There’s an awkward round of applause, like after singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to a work colleague.

‘But he has to lie low for a while,’ Fred continues, ‘so he’s gonna stay with us.’

‘What happened?’ asks Cedric, the skinny guy in the suit. He gestures at his own face to show what he means.

‘Car wreck.’ I swallow some more blood.

Fred crosses his arms. ‘Where’s the FBI guy? Timothy Blake?’

It’s jarring to hear him use my name. How much did Lux tell him about me?

‘It’s all right.’ Fred has misread my hesitation. ‘They’re cool. I mean, you know what we do here.’

Some images flash through my head. Blood, chains, screaming.

‘I sure do.’ I should be mimicking Lux’s voice, in case one of these guys has talked to him on the phone. My Texas accent is broader than his was. Too late now.

‘So what happened to the cop?’

‘Blake’s not a cop. He’s a civilian consultant.’ I clear my throat. ‘Was, anyway. I shot him in the head. Left him in Huntsville State Park under six feet of dirt. No one will ever find him.’

The story sounds fake coming out of my mouth. But the people around me are visibly relaxing. If I’m a cop killer, I must be okay.

It’s Lux buried in the park, not me. He was a teaching assistant who kidnapped a young woman and sent videos of her torture to Fred. Later, one of his other victims killed him in cold blood. I helped her dispose of the body.

‘You hear that, Donnie?’ Cedric says. ‘Six feet.’

Everyone laughs except Donnie and Samson. I chuckle, pretending to get the joke. Donnie looks about five foot eleven. Maybe Cedric is making fun of him for being short, even though he’s the tallest person in the room.

‘Blake was trying to shut us down, right?’ Donnie asks. He’s a bit older than the others—late-thirties—with shaggy hair and a silver chain around his neck. No cross on it.

‘He was trying to shut me down,’ I say. ‘Me and Fred. He didn’t know the rest of you existed. At least, I don’t think he did.’

Fred nods slowly. ‘Well, we can get you a driver’s licence in a new name. It’ll take five, six days.’

I’m not going to last five or six days. These people may not have met Lux, but they communicated with him on the dark web. I don’t know enough about him or them to pull this off.

‘That’s really kind of you,’ I say. ‘But I can’t stay long.’

Fred looks surprised. ‘Why not?’

‘The cops are searching for me.’ I wish this was true. ‘I don’t want to put the group in danger.’

‘You don’t need to worry about us,’ Samson says.

Fred pats me on the spine, just above the handle of the hammer.

‘We got your back,’ he says.

Zara speaks for the first time. ‘Can I get you a drink, Lux?’ Playing the host. Maybe this is her house, not Fred’s. Her black hair shines like a grand piano. She has access to expensive shampoo, which might mean regular trips to Houston. Maybe I can join her on one of them. Escape that way.

‘No thanks.’ For all I know, Lux didn’t drink and this is a test. ‘But I could use an aspirin.’

She beams. Dazzling white teeth appear between bright red lips. ‘Coming right up.’

She walks away, with just enough sway in her hips that I feel like I’m supposed to watch. Her high heels make no sound on the wooden floor, as though she’s coated the soles with felt.

‘While you’re waiting,’ Fred says, ‘do you want to see where the magic happens?’

The young guy, Kyle, still hasn’t opened his mouth. He looks like I did when I aged out of foster care—dishevelled, tense, watchful. He forces a smile at me and then turns back to his phone screen.

‘Sure,’ I say.

CHAPTER 2

Keep me clean to avoid the police. Break