Renegade Hearts (Rebels of Sandland 1)

head for numbers like Ryan, and I’m not fucking Picasso like Finn, but I can hack into anything that Zak can. I have skills.”

Strike one. Kian had given me the first little nugget of a very large rock that I was chipping away at. So Zak had hacked into something. My dad’s accounts no doubt. He’d found shit to pin on him and that was something I was entitled to be a part of. I wanted in now more than ever.

“Kian, I know you have skills. Ryan knows that too. He’s always talking about how much he trusts you. It’s why you’re on the doors tonight. Do you think they’d trust anyone else with that? If the wrong people get in, they’re fucked.” He nodded along, and I could see his shoulders relax, the tension and anger were starting to ebb away. I had him right where I needed him. “Ki, you might not be in the main part tonight, but you are the keystone to all this. If you’re not there it all goes to shit.”

“You’re right.” He gripped his coffee cup with both hands, cradling it like it was his lifeline. “Brandon’s sorted the security. It helped that Zak could hack into your dad’s emails and cancel the company he’d already booked. Brandon’s using guys from the gym tonight. But I’m the gate-keeper, aren’t I?”

Strike two. Another little nugget. They were planning some kind of attack on my dad that involved wiping out his security. It didn’t take a genius to guess that Brandon’s guys were there as fake guards. They’d protect the guys before they’d ever protect my father. It didn’t bother me like it should’ve. My dad was big enough to look after himself and I had a feeling he deserved whatever was heading his way.

“Are you heading down there now to do any checks?” I held my breath, willing Kian to spill the tea. I needed in on whatever it was that was happening tonight.

“I might do, yeah. I haven’t seen what Finn’s done and I probably won’t see it if I’m stuck watching the fucking doors. Zak’s there now, setting up his gear. I could give him a hand. The community centre had a new projector fitted, so he’ll need to link into that and do a sound check.”

Bingo. Strike three and you’re out.

My dad kept his diary of events on lockdown. No one saw that shit other than his secretary and maybe my mum. I never knew where he was from one day to the next. But I did know the local community centre had recently undergone a refurbishment. The main hall to be exact. So, that’s where I needed to be tonight, and wild horses wouldn’t keep me away.

“Well, good luck, Kian. Maybe I’ll see you there later.” I stood up and left him grinning to himself. He had absolutely no idea what he’d just done.

I had my hair up in a messy bun and chose a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a grey hoodie, in the hope that I’d blend in with the crowd. Then a few streets away from the community centre I went into panic mode. What was I thinking? This was a political event orchestrated by my father. I’d probably stick out like a sore thumb in amongst the power suits and over-priced designer dresses. Nevertheless my feet kept moving, despite my brain screaming at me to turn and run the other way. When I got to the corner though, I let out a nervous sigh. Groups of people my age were wandering into the venue and jeans and hoodies looked like the uniform of choice. At first, I thought it strange that they would choose to spend their Friday night at the local community centre, but then I realised, they weren’t here to see my dad, not like that, anyway. This was the work of the Renaissance men. They’d probably sent invites out to this thing.

I crossed the road and tagged onto a group of girls who were chattering away and queuing to get in. Kian was on the door as planned and he looked pleased as punch to be there. I was glad. My pep-talk had done him some good and he was loving his job right now. He started talking to a red-head who was just in front of me, putting the moves on her. A plus for both of us, because I managed to get through the door without him paying me any attention and he managed to get her phone number for later.

Once inside, I broke away from the cackling group of girls who were fast giving me a headache and pushed my way through into the main hall. I tended to shy away from events like this, that my dad attended, but I knew they usually kept numbers to a minimum and put chairs and refreshments out for the attending press and dignitaries. Here, there was nothing. We were packed in like sardines, standing shoulder to shoulder. I saw a few men walking around the outside of the hall with security emblazoned across their shirts, but I laughed to myself. They might’ve appeared tough, but they didn’t look like they were here to stop the fighting. They looked like they were here to oversee it.

I glanced behind me and saw a ton of computer equipment set up, but no Zak. Not yet. At the front of the hall there were chairs set out on the stage and the red curtains were closed. All very dramatic. The perfect setting for the tragedy that was about to unfold. I spotted my mum and dad, and the general noise and hubbub around me settled down as they climbed the steps to take their seats to the left of the stage. I looked around feeling totally confused at what the hell was going on. Apart from Kian on the door and the fake security, it didn’t look like anything was going down. The boys were nowhere to be seen.

My phone buzzed in my pocket for the hundredth time that evening and when I pulled it out I saw a message from Effy.

Where are you?

I fired a response back, relieved it wasn’t another call or text from Ryan. I was actively avoiding him for the next few hours. I didn’t want to lie to him, but he wanted to know where I was. So, I figured I’d delay my response until I could tell him the truth.

I’m at an event for my dad. Same old boring shit. Why?

Those three dots started dancing around to tell me Effy was replying.

Because Ryan’s got a hold of my number and he’s asking if you’re here with me. He said you’re avoiding his calls. What’s going on, chick?

Fuck. That was all I needed, for Effy to tell Ryan I was here.

Don’t tell him anything yet. I’ll call him. Text you later, hun. Don’t worry. Nothing is going on. I’ll explain when I see you.

I stuffed my phone back into the pocket of my jeans and watched as the Mayor took to the stage to start his spiel about the community centre being the heart of Sandland, and how proud he was that my dad had agreed to do the official reopening. The usual brown-nosing crap. I zoned out. His words were just a soundbite. They meant nothing. When he turned to my dad to welcome him up to the mic, there was a loud bang and the lights in the hall went out, leaving us all standing there in darkness and confusion, wondering what the hell was going on.

Suddenly, strobe lights cut across the crowd and the booming bass from The Prodigy’s, “Omen” started playing through speakers all around us. I stood there, wide-eyed and frozen in place, mesmerised by the music. A few people around me began to dance like they were at one of the boys’ parties. Up on the stage, the Mayor was fumbling around, not quite sure if what was happening was part of the show. My dad looked totally confused, but he stayed seated and grabbed my mum’s hand.

Two figures dressed all in black, wearing hoodies that were pulled down low on their heads and bandanas to hide their faces, took to the stage and stood next to my parents. Judging from their expressions, I could tell the black figures had said something. My dad went to stand up, but the figure closest to him put a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. Dad was rattled. Well and truly pissed off.

Then a spotlight shone onto the stage and everyone turned to focus on that, ready to see what would happen next. The curtains drew back, opening to reveal massive graffiti artwork with the words The Writings on the Wall written in stark red and black paint. Huge words that were as tall as the wall they were written on, like a slap in the face to anyone who saw it. A reminder that something bad was about to go down and they had been warned. The crowd started hollering and cheering as the song reiterated the words painted up there; reminding us that it won’t go away, we need to stop and listen.

The boys wanted to make a statement and they were doing a kick-ass job of it. The whole room was buzzing, waiting on the show they’d started.

On the stage, a screen slowly came down from the ceiling, momentarily covering Finn’s artwork. Then it flickered to life and there in front of us was someone wearing a Guy Fawkes mask. The mask that had come to symbolise defiance towards a corrupt system and social injustice. When the person on the video spoke it was with a voice changer. I had no idea if that was Ryan, Brandon, or the queen speaking on that video, but from what they were saying, I knew it was all the work of the Renaissance men.

“By now you will know that this is no ordinary event. What I am about to tell you tonight is the work of many years of struggle to have our voice heard. They have tried to shut us down. They don’t want us to be heard. We will be silent no more. This is our time. We will have a voice.”

The crowd whooped and cheered as the screen flickered again for effect and a line of ‘security’ men stood shoulder to shoulder protecting the stage. From who I wasn’t sure. I think they were there to keep my parents and the mayor on the stage, and not the rest of us off.