Nightrise

rays of the sun as it dipped behind the horizon. He'd seen it often enough on TV. This was the city of angels, the dream factory, home to the stars and the beautiful people. All sorts of clich tumbled through his mind. But he felt nothing. He had come here because he had to. Los Angeles meant nothing to him. And as for the sign — what was it? Just some big letters on a hillside.
    He was exhausted, hollowed out. Don and Marcie had been killed and the police thought he'd done it!
    The story had been reported all over America. After all, he was only fourteen. A juvenile, on the run, guilty of two homicides. The newspapers had lapped it up. But worse than all this, worse than anything he had ever experienced, was the knowledge that Scott had been taken. It had been more than seventy hours since the final performance at the Reno Playhouse. Jamie couldn't remember a time in their whole life when the two of them had been apart for so long. Driving into this new city, he once again reached out for Scott's thoughts, wondering if — against all odds — he might get some tiny sense of his brother's presence. But there was nothing. In fact, Scott felt farther away than ever.

    Jamie had wanted to stay in Reno but Alicia had persuaded him that it would be too dangerous. They had one clue: a name on a small white card. The Nightrise Corporation. Alicia had checked on the Internet. Nightrise was based in Hong Kong but had offices all over the world. Two addresses were listed in the U.S.A.: one in New York, one in Los Angeles. Driving all the way to the East Coast was out of the question. Coming here was their only option.
    And so here they were, parked opposite a skyscraper that was nothing more than a rectangular block, fifty stories high, its identically sized windows punched in with mathematical precision. The top six floors belonged to Nightrise, with banks, insurance companies, law firms, and dozens of other businesses below. Jamie and Alicia had been here for an hour, watching people come and go. Right now it was half past two and the revolving doors were never still as workers hurried back in, returning from their lunch.
    But there had been no sign of Colton Banes or the dark-haired man with the ponytail who had been sitting next to him at the theatre. Perhaps they ate at their desks. Perhaps he wasn't here at all.
    They waited another hour, then Alicia sighed and started the engine. "This is a waste of time," she said.
    "Are you hungry?"
    Jamie nodded. He had no real appetite, but he hadn't eaten anything since the morning and he could feel his energy level falling. Alicia pulled out and they drove back toward where they were staying in West Hollywood. Alicia had mentioned she had a sister. It now turned out that she was an airline stewardess and lived in Los Angeles. She would be away for a week and had gladly lent them her house. Alicia had telephoned her from Fresno. She hadn't mentioned Jamie.
    They stopped at a restaurant on Melrose Avenue, a shabby, colorful street full of shops selling mainly antiques or clothes. They sat in the open air, shaded from the sun by a giant pink umbrella. A waitress came with the menu. Alicia chose a salad. Jamie hesitated. He looked awkward.
    "What is it?" Alicia asked.
    "I've never eaten in a fancy restaurant like this," Jamie said.
    Alicia smiled. "It's not all that fancy," she said. "It's just a café really."
    "I can't afford to pay for this."
    "I've already explained. You don't have to pay for anything."
    Alicia had bought Jamie a set of fresh clothes in Fresno. He was wearing a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt. It wasn't his style — but the more striking the shirt, the less likely people would be to look at his face. At least, that was what Alicia had said. She had also bought him sunglasses and a baseball cap, the uniform of teenagers all over America. Even if the police were looking for him in California, they would never spot him now.
    Jamie ordered a hamburger and the two of them sat in silence sipping freshly squeezed orange juice until their meal arrived. It was only when Jamie began to eat that he realized how hungry he was and wolfed the food down. Alicia ate more delicately. Jamie had already noticed that she did everything very carefully. Even making the coffee in the morning, she handled the cups as if they were made of expensive porcelain.
    "We need to work out what we're going to do," Alicia said.
    "Nightrise." Jamie muttered the single word with a sense of