back together. He flicked on the switch and closed the bedroom door. The posters began to glow.
âBingo,â King said. âA flashlight with an ultraviolet bulb.â
âYou can get them easy on the Internet,â Johnson said. âJust like I ordered the special bulbs for my bedroom.â
King open the door again so he could look at the flashlight in the daylight. Maybe it had some other clues.
âUm...â Johnson said.
âUm?â
âThe Room. Iâm kind of remembering something.â
King fought the impulse to sigh. Johnson could drive him nuts sometimes. But on the other hand, just yesterday Johnson had stood beside King in the classroom fight against Raimer, and for Johnson, that had taken a lot of courage. You take the good with the bad, King thought.
âThe Room,â Johnson repeated. âBoth words capitalized. Itâs a cool game app. In the game, thereâs a special light you use to shine on objects to see if there are invisible words hidden on them. Invisible words that give clues. Maybe on the iPhoneâ¦â
King shut the bedroom door again. He could hear Johnsonâs breath close beside him in the near-total dark. King pulled Blakeâs iPhone out of his own pocket. He flicked on the flashlight again. The front of the iPhone was glass. There would be little chance of anything on the glass.
King shone the ultraviolet light on the black metal backing of the iPhone.
Four numbers glowed at them: 2855.
CHAPTER 11
âWow,â Johnson said, squinting at the screen of the iPhone. âAll those folders. You said over 3500 games and apps. Can you count that high?â
They werenât near Johnsonâs house anymore. Holding Blake Wattâs iPhone felt like holding a used radioactive core. King had insisted they find some privacy before entering the password. Last thing he wanted was Johnsonâs mom catching them with it.
So despite the urgency he felt as the hours counted down until the threatened release of whatever secret Blake Watt had felt important enough to hide with a dead manâs switch, King and Johnson had strolledâyes, strolled so that anyone watching would think they were wandering around the way kids doâback to the shoreline that gave them a view across the sound. The same place where King had asked Johnson the day before about the chances of swimming off the island.
They found shade beneath some spruce near the water, and the quiet slap of small waves on the pebbled shore concealed their whispered conversation.
King had put in the password: 2855.
And the screen had given them access. The home page had a grid of 20 folders. Five vertical and four horizontal. Blake had filled each folder with 16 apps.
King had thumbed through the pages. Eleven home pages, each filled with 20 folders.
âDonât need to count,â King said. âThereâs this amazing invention called math. Eleven times 20 times 16.â
âHate math,â Johnson said. âMath is like from the Middle Ages. The more amazing invention is called a calculator.â
âWhich the iPhone has, right?â
King brought up a search bar. He typed âcalc,â which brought up Calculator. King tapped on the app, and when it opened, he plugged in the numbers. Eleven times 20 times 16. The total was 3520. Thatâs how many games or apps were on the black iPhone 5. King knew that Blake had jailbroken the iPhone, but he didnât know if that was the limit set by Apple or if Blake had tweaked it. Either way, that was a crazy amount of apps and games.
âHe was a serious geek,â Johnson said.
âI donât think he did anything by accident,â King answered. âThat should be obvious by now. So that means we need to ask ourselves if there is a reason for so many apps.â
âDistraction?â Johnson said. âI mean, isnât this about an email? Or emails?â
In answer, King tapped the