Malorie Blackman - Double Cross
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- Book:Double Cross
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- Publisher:Corgi
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- Year:2009
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Double Cross
www.rbooks.co.uk
By Malorie Blackman and published
by Doubleday/Corgi Books:
The Noughts & Crosses sequence
NOUGHTS & CROSSES
KNIFE EDGE
CHECKMATE
DOUBLE CROSS
A.N.T.I.D.O.T.E.
DANGEROUS REALITY
DEAD GORGEOUS
HACKER
PIG-HEART BOY
THE DEADLY DARE MYSTERIES
THE STUFF OF NIGHTMARES
THIEF!
UNHEARD VOICES
(An anthology of short stories and poems,
collected by Malorie Blackman)
For junior readers, published by Corgi Yearling Books:
CLOUD BUSTING
OPERATION GADGETMAN!
WHIZZIWIG and WHIZZIWIG RETURNS
For beginner readers, publishe
by Corgi Pups/Young Corgi Books:
JACK SWEETTOOTH
SNOW DOGM
SPACE RACE
THE MONSTER CRISP-GUZZLER
Audio editions available on CDs
NOUGHTS & CROSSES
KNIFE EDGE
CHECKMATE
DOUBLE CROSS
www.malorieblackman.co.uk
www.myspace.com/malorieblackman
Praise for the Noughts & Crosses sequence:
Noughts & Crosses
'Packs some powerful political punches towhich readers will undoubtedly respond. But Blackmannever compromises the story, which is dramatic,moving and brave' Guardian
'A sad, bleak, brutal novel that promotesempathy and understanding of the history of civilrights as it inverts truths about racial injustice...But this is also a novel about love, and inspiresthe reader to wish for a world that is not dividedby colour or class' Sunday Times
'A book which will linger in the mind long afterit has been read and which will challenge children tothink again and again about the clichs and stereotypeswith which they are presented' Observer
Knife Edge
'Devastatingly powerful' Guardian
'A powerful story of race and prejudice' Sunday Times
'Supercharged' Scottish Sunday Herald
Checkmate
'Thought-provoking brilliance' Funday Times
'Another emotional hard-hitter... bluntly told andingeniously constructed' Sunday Times
'Complex but beautifully crafted... dramatic, intenselymoving... it truly ensnares the reader' Carousel
This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
ISBN 9781407044873
Version 1.0
www.randomhouse.co.uk
DOUBLE CROSS
ISBN: 9781407044873
Version 1.0
Published in Great Britain by Doubleday,
an imprint of Random House Children's Books
A Random House Group Company
This edition published 2008
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
Copyright Oneta Malorie Blackman, 2008
The right of Malorie Blackman to be identified as the author of this work hasbeen asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This electronic book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser
Set in Sabon
RANDOM HOUSE CHILDREN'S BOOKS
6163 Uxbridge Road, London W5 5SA
www.kidsatrandomhouse.co.uk
www.rbooks.co.uk
Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be found at:www.randomhouse.co.uk/offices.htm
THE RANDOM HOUSE GROUP Limited Reg. No. 954009
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
For Neil and Lizzy,
Mum and Wendy with love.
And big thanks to Annie and
sue what would I do without you?
Lizzy, this is the book you asked me for. Sort of!
'The mere imparting of information is
not education. Above all things, the effort must
result in making a man think for himself...
When you control a man's thinking you
do not have to worry about his actions.
You do not have to tell him not to stand
here or go yonder. He will find his
"proper place" and will stay in it.'
Carter G. Woodson
'... What would he do,
Had he the motive and the cue for passion
That I have?'
Hamlet Act II, Scene II
The Glock 23 felt heavy and seductively comfortable inmy hand. The pearl stock, warmed by my body heat,fitted snugly against my palm. I now held McAuley'scustom-made semi automatic.
A real, honest-to-God gun in my hand.
A proper killing machine.
Or was that me? Where did I stop and the gun start? Ireally couldn't tell any more.
Now what?
McAuley lay on the floor, the previous torrent of bloodthat had been gushing from his nose now reduced to atrickle. His once crisp, white designer suit and matchingdesigner shirt lay twisted in an ungainly manner aroundhim. The random splashes of red on McAuley's suitresembled an abstract painting. I stared into one particularbloodstain in the middle of McAuley's chest.
'It's more like a Rorschach ink blot than a painting,' Ithought inanely.
It reminded me of my own face in skewed profile.
Now what?
McAuley's blond hair hung like day-old spaghettiaround his face. It was streaked with random red highlightswhich occasionally dripped onto his shoulders. Redhighlights donated involuntarily by McAuley's last victim.The assorted blood splatters on his jacket alone would fillat least a couple of chapters in a forensic science textbook.I wondered whether the SOCO scene-of-crime-officer lucky enough to be assigned to McAuley's body wouldbe an art-lover?
I glanced towards the office door. The heavy,arrhythmic banging on it was beginning to get to me. Thenoise vibrated straight through my head, making it hard tothink. Making a slow fist with my free hand, I dug myshort nails as deeply as I could into my palms. I had toresist the temptation to let the frenetic drumming on thedoor dictate the pace of my thinking.
Think, Tobey. Think.
There had to be a way out of this.
But even as the thought pushed its way into consciousness,I knew I was deluding myself. Turn and face thetruth.
Time had run out.
'Durbridge, dig yourself a grave and crawl into it 'causeyou are dead. D'you hear me?'
I aimed a kick between McAuley's legs and allowedmyself a small, satisfied smile as the blood-spatteredscumbag howled, curling up like the letter C. Smallpleasures. There was nothing and no one in McAuley'soffice to stop me getting a few kicks in. And if I was goingto die... The smile faded from my face as I watchedMcAuley writhe on the floor.
At the sound of their boss's roar of pain, McAuley's menpounded even harder on the office door. Luckily for me,McAuley's paranoia had seen to it that the door was solid,reinforced hardwood. It would hold for a while, but eventhat door couldn't indefinitely withstand the kind ofpunishment McAuley's thugs were dishing out. I reckonedI only had a couple of minutes before it gave waycompletely and then the door wouldn't be the only thingin trouble.
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