Switch by Grant McKenzie Read Free Book Online Page A

sticking around.
    The fact he was homeless, penniless and in the worst state of mind he had ever known hadn’t seemed to cross their minds.
    He walked aimlessly around the building, filling his lungs with oxygen and fighting off a deep, clawing desire to step into a hole and sink for ever into its depths. Looking up, he noticed engravings of famous quotes about justice etched on the building’s walls. He read them as he walked, seeking some message of comfort.
    He finally stopped at the south-west corner beneath the words of Martin Luther King, a man who surely understood the unbearable weight of loss.
    Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere
.
    Millions had found comfort or been rallied by those eight powerful words but, on this day, Sam didn’t care about justice. What did justice have to do with something as senseless as losing your family?
    ‘Hey, mister! Mr White! This is for you.’
    Sam turned towards the voice and blinked his eyes into focus. He was surprised to find he was still standing outside the Justice Center even though he couldn’t say where he thought he should be.
    A bike messenger in a clunky, oversized helmet and cherry-tinted wrap-around sunglasses was shoving a brown padded envelope at him.
    ‘There must be a mistake,’ Sam said. ‘I’m not the person you want.’
    ‘Your name Sam White?’
    ‘Yes, but—’
    ‘It’s for you, man.’
    Sam accepted the envelope.
    ‘But how . . . ?’
    The messenger pushed off without a backward glance and began to peddle hard. After he turned the corner, there was a blare of car horn and the sharp screech of tyre, but no fleshy crunch to delay traffic.
    Sam squeezed the envelope, feeling something small and hard nestled within. It was the size and shape of a bar of soap.
    He looked around, studying the faces of passing strangers and cars in the street. He saw a silver Mercedes roll through an amber light at the corner, its back windows heavily tinted.
    In Sam’s hand, the envelope started to ring.
    He hesitated only a moment before ripping open the envelope and removing a small flip phone from within. There was no note.
    On the fifth ring, Sam answered.
    ‘Hello?’
    ‘Just listen, Mr White,’ said a voice, its tone digitally scrambled to sound deeper and slower than normal speech. ‘Your family is alive.’
    ‘What?’ Sam’s voice rose in pitch.
    ‘The dead woman and child,’ continued the voice, its words slow and deliberate, ‘aren’t yours.’
    Sam staggered backwards as if reeling from a physical blow. He leaned against the concrete and granite wall of the Justice Center, its six-storey foundation feeling barely strong enough to keep him upright.
    ‘What are you talking about?’
    ‘The bodies recovered from the fire this morning do not belong to your wife and child. Hannah and MaryAnn are still alive.’
    Sam rubbed at his face. ‘Who are you?’ he whispered. ‘What kind of sick game is this?’
    ‘No game, Mr White,’ said the calm monotone. ‘If you don’t want to lose them again, you’ll need to do exactly what I say.’
    ‘You bastard!’
    ‘You are mine for three days. If you do all that I ask, you will see your loved ones again. If you disappoint me in any way, I will dispose of them.’
    ‘Why are you doing this?’ Sam’s voice cracked on the edge of hysteria.
    ‘Once the police discover the bodies aren’t who they think they are, they’ll be looking for answers. Since you have none, you’ll want to avoid them. The choice is yours. If you do decide to involve the authorities and you are not available when I call, your family will die.’
    ‘Can I talk to them? Please?’
    The caller ignored his plea.
    ‘You will be given a series of tasks, each one a further test of loyalty to your family. The final stage will be the delivery of one million dollars in cash.’
    ‘But that’s impossible. I don’t have anything near that amount of money.’
    ‘Your first task is a simple choice,’ continued the