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SIXTEEN

Author: Susceptible
last update Last Updated: 2022-12-14 18:39:52

Note: This is a past event, i.e. a (continuation of odd-numbered chapter storyline: 2,4,6, etc.)

The June holidays are days away. I just came from eighth and ninth grade. Got the stuff out of bed and I feel good.

Later this morning there will be a Student Council with Doc Pat. But I don't expect any trouble. From here it's plain sailing all the way until the holidays arrive.

"Hey, Erick! And if you smile like that?" asked one of my rugby buddies in passing.

"Then can't a man smile?"

"Sure. Just make sure you stay away from Bill's laughing stock," he grinned and slapped me on the back.

On my way back to my room I knocked on Gregory's door. I just walk in. He seems startled. He slammed his laptop shut.

"Caught, G-4ce!"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Guilty," he laughed dejectedly.

"Hacking?"

"Hmmm."

"And that means?"

"That you shouldn't be so nosy." Am I imagining it or is he a bit nuts because I bothered him?

"Okay, then I'd rather not ask you what you're going to do for the holidays eith
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  • Blurred Lines   EIGHTEEN

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  • Blurred Lines   NINETEEN

    Note: This is a present-day event, (continuation of odd-numbered time-span: 1,3,5, etc.)The school day is over. I hurriedly walk back to the hostel.After the interview with the police, I can't think of anything else. I'm in deep trouble. Okay, Inspector Kumar-them doesn’t know about the hacking. But what if they find out? I can't tell them everything I know without dragging myself into it too.But I have a plan. Plan A. It just has to work because there is no plan B.I have a quick lunch in the cafeteria. Later this afternoon there is also rugby practice. I can't miss it. Not now that, whether it suits me or not, I've found my place in the team again. I indulge my father's ass-crawling at Doc again. And immediately I feel guilty: I know I will have to correct myself. But it only remains with good intentions.In my room, I take out my mobile phone and the piece of paper I found on top of my suitcase from my jacket pocket.Don't let him mess with you like that.Who put it on top of my

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  • Blurred Lines   TWENTY

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  • Blurred Lines   TWENTY-ONE

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  • Blurred Lines   TWENTY-TWO

    Note: This is a past-day event, (continuation of odd-numbered time-span: 1,3,5, etc.)Back at school after the June holidays, with my father's instructions for the upcoming rugby season still fresh in my mind, I start training myself in the afternoons after school. Meanwhile, the accumulated school work is turning into the Maloti mountain itself."Relax, man," said Bill in his calm voice. "Everything will be okay. Senior year is a poop in a blizzard. Nothing!"Easy for him to say. He does not have to explain to my father at the end of the year where the expected distinctions have gone.Fortunately, the rugby practice keeps my mind off the schoolwork. The sweat and endorphins make it easier in a way.These days Gregory teaches me about war dialing. How you can set up a computer to call a bunch of phone numbers and see if it sets up a computer modem somewhere. A place where you can break into.After that, we move on to TELNET. An abbreviation for Telephone Network."TELNET works almost

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  • Blurred Lines   TWENTY-THREE

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  • Blurred Lines   TWENTY-FOUR

    Note: This is a past-day event, (continuation of odd-numbered time-span: 2,4,6, etc.)I lay awake all night thinking about Isabella. Every terrible minute that a call can bring. Bad news. Or perhaps she wasn’t being serious? Did she just say that because she was discouraged?Early the next morning I called her. No answer. It's Saturday, she might still be sleeping. I call the home phone. Her mother answered. "Isabella isn't up yet.""Can aunty call her for me?""She's sleeping, Erick.""Please."I am waiting. Minutes pass by, as I continued to listen to the faint sounds of the speaking tube. If there was something...what would her mother do? Finally, there is the sound of someone arriving."Izzy?""Erick?""Are you OK?""Yes.""Thank goodness!"At the breakfast table, Gregory asks if I feel like going to the mountain. "We each get a horse at the stables," he suggests.“That would be nice,” I said. "I feel like getting away from this place for a little while."We dress comfortably, ask

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  • Blurred Lines   Epilogue

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  • Blurred Lines   THIRTY-FIVE

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  • Blurred Lines   THIRTY-FOUR

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  • Blurred Lines   THIRTY-THREE

    Note: (odd & even-numbered chapters’ time spans – merge in this chapter)The reflection in the glass door of the gallery. "Gregory!""Didn't think you'd see me again, huh?"I swing around. Walk closer to grab him. Relief. "Is that genuinely you?"But Gregory only lifts one arm, presses against my chest, and pushes me away. a crooked smile drew around his mouth."Your hair...Blonde? And the goatee?" I want to take his hand away, but he pulls it back hard. "Where have you been? The whole world is looking for you!""Mmm... know, I saw my food on Police File. Never thought I'd end up there.""But if you saw it, why—""What's this? Twenty questions? Leave it. I'm in a hurry: just came to finish something.That's what fear feels like Fire flashes through your body, every nerve jolt awake, adrenaline throws your mind into overdrive, your eyes open, your breathing stops and your chest cavity squeezes. And you hear it - your own breathing stops and your sinuses squeeze. And you hear it - your

  • Blurred Lines   THIRTY-TWO

    Note: This is a past-day event, (continuation of even-numbered chapters time span: 2,4,6, etc.)"I've never been here," said Gregory. It's a Tuesday afternoon in the middle of winter. The last bell rang. I'm in a hurry, want to get to the hostel. This afternoon there is another rugby practice.Gregory stopped me with his arm just as I was about to run. He looked up at the two-story building in front of us. We've walked past this a thousand times, but it's one of those places you never see again.It's right there. Just another college building."It's the Blackwood Memorial Museum," I said."Let's go in.""I have to get moving.""Come on, Erick," His eyes darkened. "We'll walk through soon."A hand wraps around my throat. I look at the museum. Maybe I overlooked it on purpose at other times, because the memories are waiting inside. Gregory is already up the stairs, looking back at me as he stands in the doorway. "Come now!"Daniel.I follow Entangled in my own thoughts.Step by step bac

  • Blurred Lines   THIRTY-ONE

    Note: This is a present-day event, (continuation of odd-numbered time-span: 1,3, etc.)"Come along," said Sergeant McCallister."Where to?""The local precinct. The community service centre."I frown."The police station, Erick.""Are you arresting me?""No. You must come and make a statement." Sergeant McCallister was right, it was going to be a long day.A little while later I get into the back of the police car. The classes are changing. Curious eyes stare at me. They can think about what they want.The asphalt road on which we stop in front of the police station is crumbling against the curb. A fence about four meters high spans the building. Every few steps there is a lamppost that would illuminate the fence in the dark. On the pale winter grass in front of the sandstone building with the green are two flagpoles. On the left hangs the national flag, on the right the police flag.The police offices are clean, but the furniture is old. In the office where we sit, there is a single

  • Blurred Lines   THIRTY

    Note: This is a past-day event, (continuation of even-numbered time-span: 2,4,6, etc.)The mother of all challenges, is what Gregory calls it.Hack the website of an online shopping group. Without any help. Get personal information of buyers, addresses, names, phone numbers, email addresses. Credit card numbers deserve extra kudos."No, I’m not doing it," I say. "We're going too far now, Gregory.""Are you scared?""No, it's just...I can't.""Can't? Or won't?" His attitude defiantly. Typical Daniel liked when he came up with a new extreme sport."Okay, won’t," I tell myself it's the right thing to do. I should have stopped earlier. "What if I get caught?""I taught you what to do. No one will know. You're not going to do anything with the info. White hat, remember.?""I don't know. It's too dangerous.""What could be so dangerous? You hack the site, poke around in a few scripts, and see if you can get to a mainframe. A database. That's all.""No." Definitely."So, what you're really t

  • Blurred Lines   TWENTY-NINE

    Note: This is a present-day event, (continuation of odd-numbered time-span: 1,3,5, etc.)"I see I was right then," said the man there in front of the computer."Even if you no longer have your laptop, you would still continue with your hacking."He turned in the chair and looked up. Straight to me.It's not Doc. It's Sergeant McCallister. He looks tired. "I've been watching you all evening. I wonder what the inspector is going to say now? She thought you had a big enough scare. Said I was going to waste my time. But look now."I swallow, my throat is dry. The pack of ream paper in my hands willy-nilly slip out between my fingers."What is all this stuff?" asked Sergeant McCallister.There is no way out. No sweet talk will help. I have to tell him about Doc."There's something..." The words struggled to get over my dry tongue."Speak louder, Erick, I can't hear you!"I just want to start over when Sergeant McCallister reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. It didn't rin

  • Blurred Lines   TWENTY-EIGHTH

    Note: This is a past-day event, (continuation of odd-numbered time-span: 1,3,5, etc.)Autumn turns into winter. The trees are stripped bare and in the morning the mountain is a black stone giant that hugs the school.It's Saturday night. Blackwood kicked ass with the rugby and there is reason to celebrate. Residence barbecue. There is a crazy electric atmosphere at the school. Loud music blares through the hostels all afternoon.The dormitory father has heard that there are some guys planning to smuggle in liquor and the Student Council is supposed to be on high alert.The chefs are planning a feast. Doc's instruction. Long-covered tables stand under the trees. Snacks, soft drinks and fruit juices. A bar where a bartender mixes mocktails.I call Isabella. "Are you going out tonight?""Will see what Clarissa-they say. Maybe we'll chill tonight at the one with DVDs."The conversation is the same as pretty much any other we've had before."Love you, Erick," she finally said."Same."I br

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