Day Zero

anybody, but–”
“That’s not what I meant,” Liz said. “Alex didn’t have an Optik.”
Olly shook his head. “Everybody has an Optik.”
“He didn’t even have a phone.” She tapped the side of her head. “He had a thing about invisible waves and cellular frequencies and that sort of shit.”
“You mean he was crazy.”
She glared at him. “No.” She hesitated. “Well, maybe. A little bit. Either way, he didn’t have an Optik.” She stared at the digital map. “Unless… oh, Alex you absolute twat.”
“What?” Olly asked.
Liz gave a rueful laugh. “He swiped it.”
“He stole an Optik? What’s the point of that? They give the damn things away free.”
“I don’t know why, but I know that’s what he did. Alex is – was – a thief. Little stuff, mostly. A wallet here, a bit of identity fraud there. He must have stolen an Optik… and then… shit.” She sat back, her face gone pale.
Olly caught up with her a second later. “Oh bugger. The shot wasn’t meant for him.”
“No. So who the fuck was it meant for?”

6: Hayes Family Dinner
The sky was the colour of ripe plums when Danny finally got to the Locksley Estate. He was still thinking about Jenks and Faulkner and whatever it was Faulkner had been trying to pinch when he reached his mum’s flat. But all that was washed away by the smell of the chicken cooking on the other side of the door.
For a moment he was fifteen again, and hurrying home from practice. He’d wanted to be a footballer then, like every other kid his age. He wasn’t sure when that had changed. He paused and turned, momentarily at a loss.
The estate was much as he remembered it. He could still see the Pinnacle on St Mary Axe from where he stood outside his mother’s door. The glassy corporate tower was lit up like a Christmas tree, with some looping bank logo glowing along its flanks. The estate, in contrast, was mostly dark, save for a few sputtering lights on the walkways or bleeding through cracked curtains.
He could hear the murmur of televisions and radios. Voices on the levels below. Mum lived on the top floor. He craned his neck, curious. Idle youth in the courtyard. Probably dealing. He stopped himself even as the thought occurred to him and turned away.
Whatever they were doing, it was none of his business. He wasn’t in uniform. No sense bringing trouble to mum’s door. Ro did enough of that, if what he’d heard was correct. It was hard to tell with Ro. You never knew how much of it was just trash talk, and how much was truth.
That thought was foremost on his mind when he finally knocked. He’d never gotten along with his younger sister. They’d fought from the first, competing for attention. He loved her, he supposed, but he’d never much liked her. He expected that she felt the same. If she was here tonight…
The door opened. Ro glared at him and sucked her teeth. His sister was shorter than him, but muscular. She was still in her workout gear; he’d rarely seen her in anything but sweats and trainers. She’d shaved the sides of her head, and added purple highlights to what was left. “About time,” she said. “You been standing out there for an hour.”
“What happened to your hair?”
She frowned. “Stylish, yeah?”
“Do it yourself?”
“Maybe.”
“Looks like it.” He stretched out a questing finger. “I thought mohawks were supposed to stand up, like.”
“Don’t touch.” Ro balled her fist, and Danny tensed. Ro had a mean left hook – infamous, even. She’d had aspirations of mixed martial arts stardom, but as with many of Ro’s big ideas, it hadn’t worked out. From the look of her, she hadn’t let her training regimen slip, at least.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He paused. “Can I come in?”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“Think quick, or I’m going through you.”
Ro frowned and made a show of looking around. “Oh? Got some backup, then? Brought some of your Albion pals? I’ll kick their arses too.”
Danny shook his head. “Big talk, from such a tiny person.”
Ro bared her teeth. “That just means I’m close enough to punch you in the nuts.”
Danny took a step back. It wasn’t an idle threat. “Don’t think I won’t thump you.”
Ro made to retort, but was interrupted by the rattle of pots and pans inside. “Who that at the door, girl?” a woman’s voice called out. Ro stepped aside with a sigh.
“Just Danny, Mum. Nobody important.”
“Ta,” Danny said, as he squeezed past her into the flat.
“Fuck off and die.”
“Rosemary, language.” Cece Hayes was short and round and never seemed to get any older, no matter the length of time between visits. Unlike her children, she spoke with a strong Trinidadian accent. She bustled into the hall, wiping her hands on her apron. “Oh my days, Daniel. The prodigal son, he comes home!”
“Hello Mum, give us a kiss?” Danny bent, and his mother clasped him in a bone-crushing hug. “How are you?”
“I’m gone tru, love,” she said. “Been running around all day, awa?” She stepped back. “You look thin. You not eating?”
“Not as good as I used to.”
“We’ll change that soon enough. Inside, inside.” She pulled him along. “Rosemary, close the door, you letting gnats in.”
“Yeah Rosemary, close the door,” Danny said.
Ro flipped him the finger and slammed the door. Danny grinned. The kitchen was smaller than he’d remembered. It was barely there at all, most of the space occupied by the oven and the small, chipped Formica table that nestled flush to the wall. A window looked out over the courtyard on the opposite side of the building, and under it a battered radiator sagged beneath the weight of drying clothes – Ro’s, by the look of them.
“You brought your laundry,” he said, as his mother guided him to a seat.
“Mum offered,” Ro said, claiming another chair for herself. There were only three around the small table. Just enough, no more, no less.
Cece turned from the stove,