Old Porters

Chapter Five

Five

Just before midday on Sunday Roger decided that it was time to get dressed, so found his comfortable but not exactly fashionable, blue jumper and chinos on his bedroom floor.

As he brushed his teeth the teenager looked at himself. Bags under his eyes, hair a mess, and un-even patches of stubble across his face. All those to the bumps and bruises on his arms, legs and torso and it was not a pretty picture. How did he ever expect anyone to fall for him?

The teenager finished brushing his teeth and left the bathroom. He retrieved his phone from it’s over night spot in his coat. He had one text from Steve, asking if the vigilante wanted to come over and play video games with the other guys later. He did, but before Roger could reply the mobile began to ring in his hand

He looked quizzically at the screen because did not recognise the number, a landline with OldPort’s area code. He answered, assuming that his parents had locked both their phones in the car whilst out at a car boot, again. “Hello?”

“You must not trust John Mcoy,” the voice on the other end of the phone said rather hushed.

“Excuse me?” Roger asked.

“He knows about the SS55 accident, and what it did to you.”

The teenager’s heart rate jumped up three gears because regardless of if Mcoy knew, this person knew. “What accident?” the vigilante asked in a pathetic attempt to hide his concern.

“Your accident at the lab,” the voice said, loosing its temper. “I’m putting my neck on the line to warn you so don’t mess me about.”

“Alright,” Roger said, already planning what he would do after the call had ended. “Who is this?”

“It doesn’t matter. All you need to know is you cannot trust him. I suggest you never make contact with Mcoy again.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” the teenager asked. He sat on his bed, the fabric of his chinos was tight against his thighs. These trousers were designed for someone with a little less muscle, but he could worry about that later.

“You shouldn’t, but you can’t trust him either. I have to go.”

With that, the line went dead.

The student asked if there was anyone there three times, even though he heard the end of call beep his phone always made. Snapping to action, he grabbed a sheet of paper from his printer and a pen from the cup on his desk, and then looked in his call log. He wrote his mystery caller’s number down, then scrolled through his phone’s address book, until he found the S section and the number for Stalker Finder.

When the vigilante had heard about the Stalker Finder service on an episode of Crime Patrol, he had been intrigued. A service which traced phone calls from their point of origin, originally designed to help people combat stalkers. Roger never thought he would be stalked, but the service could make an interesting party trick, if he were ever invited to parties. Of course, that was a few years ago, and now, there were a number of apps that did exactly the same thing. Still the teenager had this number, and he was finally going to use it.