Betrayal

This is my ongoing novel set in the modern day. I posted it on SSLF but didn't get many views.


Chapter one
The Murtada Organisation

It was a cold, damp night, with a drop of rain to chill the skin. Yet, though most children were safely wrapped up in their cosy beds, there was one child who wasn’t asleep on Loki Road. Who was, in fact, not tucked up in bed, but was climbing out his bedroom window. Master Roswell was ten years old; a normal ten year old child to the passing eye. The only not so normal feature about this kid was that he was almost always tired and lived on the rich side of town.
Master Roswell clambered down the ivy like a monkey, careful not to step on the weak branches. Either there was becoming more and more weak branches, or he was getting heavier and heavier. He knew he would have to find another way out before long, but he had no time to think about that now. Upon reaching the ground, Master Roswell made his way towards the local park.
A dark figure, with a hat pulled low over his brow, waited by some hedges in the north east corner of the park. It was to this figure that Master Roswell strode.
“Valin, is that you?” spoke the figure.
“Yeah, is this where the meeting is?” replied the boy.
“Yep. Gurnam found a tramp in the old place.”
“Again? We need more soup kitchens…”
Master Thomas “Valin” Roswell stepped towards the hedges, glanced left and right, and squeezed through the branches.
On the other side was a tree, planted right in the middle of some bushes, impossible to get to if you were an adult, or too fat to make it through the hedge. The tree was old enough so that the branches covered a little circle of grass preventing the rain from getting at the group of children who sat around a small fire.
There were about ten of them; all sat facing the tree, where a boy, older than the rest, was standing. His name was Gurnam.
“Late again Valin…” Gurnam scolded.
“Jeffery wouldn’t go to bed till past midnight.” Valin retorted
“Jeffery?” Gurnam asked.
“The Butler.” Valin sighed.
Now that evryone had arrived, Gurnam turned to speak to all of them.
“We lost another jail breaker team yesterday. They were trying to get Pilot out. Pilot was sent to retrieve a jewellery box belonging to the Princess. We believed it had one of the Seven Emeralds inside.”
A gasp went around the group of children. They all knew what the Seven Emeralds were. The Emeralds were of great hue and quality, near priceless. They had been cut by the great Agostino, the skilled child laborer. The children knew that whichever street-gang held the emeralds could rule all other enemy gangs.
“Now we need that jewel. Pilot told us he had the Emerald just before he got caught. It was no doubt taken to this location…”


So it was agreed, Huslu, Alpana, Valin and a few other nine to twelve year olds were to go and rescue Pilot and the Emerald. They were told the plan; they just had to perform it.
“…Just make sure-” Gurnam began.
“We don’t get caught.” Every boy and girl chanted back.
A shrill, piercing whistle broke through the leaves.
“The Maulers…” breathed a young girl, no older than eight, fearfully.
The Murtada gang burst into action, all the older children grabbed sticks from Gurnam, and surrounded the tree. The younger kids took their catapults out of their pockets and started to climb the tree. The hooded figure appeared squeezing out of the hedge.
“You’ve got two minutes,” he whispered, “no more.”
The younger kids had ample supplies of rocks up the tree. They had been collected on previous occasions. Then, all became silent. Nothing could be heard; even the wind and the rain seemed to have stopped. Valin’s heart was beating fast, this is the quiet before the storm, he thought.
An owl hooted, or was it a signal? Valin decided on the latter as a group of boys, burst from the bushes and ran at the circle of children around the tree. Every attacking gang member was covered in tribal style mud markings and was quite frightening for the inexperienced.
Swish! Swish! Swinging their sticks like sabres and staffs, the Murtada fought back the oncoming party. The Maulers usually frightened their opponents with surprise attacks and their face paint and then clobbered the opposition with their bare hands. But they were not expecting such a well prepared defence.
Each of the Murtada fought uniquely and to their talents. Valin, who was as agile as a monkey, would dodge any move made by his opponent, peppering him with blows all the time. Or Huslu, who was as strong as a bear, towered over the enormous Maulers and soon dumped his stick to fight hand-to-hand. Or even Alpana, one of the only girls in their little group, would use the heavy ring at the end of her waist length ponytail to its full effect.
After the last Mauler had fled after receiving a crushing blow to the crotch from Huslu, the defenders finally relaxed and came round Gurnam once more.
“I suppose we had better end this meeting now before they come back in full force with weapons of their own.”
“Why? We can take them!” chattered a cocky new recruit, who was very pleased at how he felled the largest Mauler with his catapult.
“That was a scouting party. Ten! In a scouting party! Imagine their full force! We would have no chance against that many kids!”
The younger boy nodded and Gurnam resumed his talking.
“I want my new team to meet up at one o’clock tomorrow, look out for Shifty, as I don’t think we’ll be using this place for a while.

Chapter two
The Day After

Tom was a small boy for his age. He had long, collar length black hair and deep, colour changing, hazel eyes. He was not the loud, boisterous type, but the sort of person no one took any notice of, the normal person who you would never guess to be part of a street gang; let alone a sophisticated street gang.
Tom was not particularly intelligent; he was no scientist; no mathematician; not a great Historian either. But he had the agility of a monkey; that’s why the Murtada gang came after him. The Murtada organisation chose its members through skill. And you didn’t try and meet them so you could join; they tried to meet you and make you join.
“Master Roswell, sir?” Jeffery said softly, “Miss says you need to get up or you’ll miss the bus.”
Tom groaned, and rolled over. “Five more minutes…” he murmured.
I may be part of a secret street gang and going to midnight meetings, thought Tom, but I still have school in the morning!
Tom staggered down the stairs sleepily, he always felt the same after every meeting; tired and groggy, like he just wanted to curl up in a ball and forget about the world. But he always kept these feelings to himself, making everyone think he was a normal child who stayed up late doing homework.
“Hello Tom! You look top of the morning!”
Tom groaned in reply; he was not in the mood for sarcasm, least of all from his brother.
Pouring himself a bowl of cereal, Tom sagged into his chair; reading over his time table.
“Double physics, Maths, English, Chemistry and PE,” Tom read from the timetable, “At least we’re covering gym in PE, lots of climbing, just what I like” Tom smiled weakly, and went back to his breakfast.
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“Hey Valin! Wait up!”
Tom didn’t look back, he knew who it was; he could see the long ponytail in the corner of his eye.
“How do you think old Gurnam is going to get us to Pilot; it being the middle of the term” Alpana asked.
“For Heaven’s sake, Alpana! We’re not supposed to talk about it here! We’re not even meant to be using our Murtada names in a crowded place!” Tom hissed back.
“Well I can hardly invite you over to a dark corner of the yard, I’ve got a reputation to consider” Alpana chided, tucking a stray lock behind her ear,
“It’d be all right for you, you’re a no-body here”
“Thank you; I could use a confidence booster.” Tom snorted sarcastically.
“You’re welcome, so, like I asked a minute ago, how do you think Gurnam’s going to get us out of school for God knows how many days?”
“I don’t know, but he’ll think of something, like a school trip or a burst pipe and we all have to move to a boarding school or something.
“Burst water pipe!?”
“Yeah, ok, maybe not the pipe, but still. Gurnam can think of anything; did you know his name means wise one?
“Nope.”
Tom suddenly became aware that he was having a discussion with every boy’s dream date about what must seem to be absolute gibberish. Even worse, everyone else was staring.
Alpana must have realised this as well; for she quickly said:
“Bye,”, then, quickly remembering her ego, “Mr. Nobody!”
Tom sighed, once again the laughing stock of the school yard...
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Tom crept down the polished oak stairs, not making a sound. The stairs were checked regularly for creaks and groans, this worked in Tom’s favour. Running silently across the thick carpet, Tom made his way to the Kitchen.
Tom opened the fridge, well stocked; as always. Stuffing his knapsack and pockets full of long lasting savouries and sweets, Tom quickly checked his customized belt; he didn’t want to leave anything behind. Of course, Gurnam would find some way of supplying food, but you could never trust what he bought.
Once full, Tom made his way to his Dad’s hunting collection, selecting a large, heavy duty, hunter’s knife. He had a quick look around to see if there were any other items which might prove useful. After grabbing his thick jacket, Tom decided he was ready.
Tom checked his gear yet again: Rope, food, various pocket knifes, canteen, mobile phone, compass, brandy, plasters and bandages, jacket, plimsolls, balaclava and plenty of shirts and jumpers: some ordinary, most black.
Tom was satisfied. He heaved on his heavy pack and crept out the front door. Tom took a last look at the entrance hall; no one inside the house stirred, even as an owl flew into the window, nor as a mouse crept over to some interesting white powder, before scurrying away to its nest, nor as Thomas Rothwell left the house and became Valin of the Murtada once more.