The Set Up Read Online Free PDF Page B

said.
    Jack nodded. ‘Yes. A cancer caused by the virus that the Medusa gene was embedded in.’
    I froze. ‘But that means the gene . . .’ I could barely bring myself to think it, let alone say it. ‘That means my gene, my powers . . . that means I killed her.’ My voice was hoarse.
    ‘No.’ Jack shook his head again, more vigorously. ‘No way. It was an accident. Or, if anyone’s to blame it was William Fox. That’s why Fergus felt so responsible for you . . . because of what his brother had done. And that’s why he hates the gene inside you. But that’s like hating the wind for becoming a hurricane.’
    ‘But even so . . .’ My voice was strained. ‘Even so, if I didn’t have the gene she wouldn’t have died.’
    ‘No.’ Jack shook his head. ‘That’s not how your mum saw it, Nico. I met her twice – once before you were born, at that Christmas party; and once when you were a baby and William was dead. That second time, she knew that the Medusa gene . . . that it was going to kill her . . . and she saw the fact that she was going to die as a sacrifice she was making for you, so that you could be special. Your mum was proud of that sacrifice. And you should be proud too. You can’t let Fergus stop that sacrifice from counting. You should make the most of what you can do . . . of who you are . . . for your mum’s sake, if for nothing else.’
    Jack smiled reassuringly, then revved up the engine. As we sped off, I tried to think it through. It was hard not to feel it was my fault Mum had died. And yet, Jack was right. I hadn’t asked to be injected with a gene wrapped inside a virus. Just as William Fox hadn’t known that the virus would kill Mum.
    At least Jack had had the courage to tell me the truth, which was more than Fergus had done.
    And if Mum had given her life for the Medusa gene the least I could do was make the most of its power.
    Jack said nothing more as we zoomed round a series of streets, finally pulling up outside Arsenal’s Emirates stadium. We went inside and Jack led the way to brilliant seats – they must have cost a fortune – in one of the directors’ boxes.
    Arsenal were playing a charity friendly against a Championship side I’d never heard of – Sweeton United. I tried to put what Jack had just told me to the back of my mind. At first I kept going over what he’d said but eventually the football sucked me in and I settled down to enjoy the match.
    I forgot about my telekinesis – and Jack’s plan for me to use it to make money – until the game was nearly halfway through. The home team, clear favourites, had already scored two goals.
    Then Jack leaned over and whispered in my ear. ‘You know, I’ve got a bet on at six to one that Sweeton will win three-two.’
    I stared at him. Why would he have made such a specific – and unlikely – gamble?
    Jack raised his eyebrows. ‘Shame there’s no one here who could help them score.’
    My heart thudded as I realised what he was saying.
    Did I dare do what he was suggesting?
    I stared at the pitch. The ball was near Arsenal’s goal, being successfully defended by one of Arsenal’s best centre backs. Without really thinking about it, I directed the ball away from his feet, towards the Sweeton striker. It bounced off his shin and into the goal.
    The Sweeton fans erupted in cheers. Jack punched me on the shoulder. ‘Nice one!’
    I stared at the pitch, too shocked to respond. Had I really done that? The striker looked as shocked as I felt. The scoreboard at the far end registered the goal. I had done it. I grinned.
    ‘Two more like that, my son, and we’ll be quids in.’ Jack laughed, as the whistle blew for half-time.
    The second half started well for Sweeton. Clearly buoyed up by their earlier goal, they scored ten minutes into the half without any help from me. Then Arsenal got the ball and all of a sudden I was leaning forward, intent on the play, making sure the ball swerved and swung away from the goal