Rivets: Lifters

Extract

“Go! Go!” Adaq threw himself into the passenger seat. His sister, Maya, hadn’t even stopped the car completely, just slowed down enough for him to jump in. She veered back out into the traffic while Adaq was still hauling the door shut.

“You get it?” she asked.

Adaq didn’t respond. Of course he’d got it.

“Anyone see you?”
Adaq forced out a laugh. He managed to sound calm while he wiped his hand across his face to hide the shaking.

“How much?” Maya asked. She was always so focused on the money. “How much?” She had one hand on the wheel, the other held out to Adaq.

“Wait,” said Adaq. “Give me a chance and I’ll—”

As he opened the wallet his mouth stopped working: he’d never seen so much cash. Maya glanced across and for a second she went as quiet as her brother. The growl of the traffic around them sounded like the city cheering their triumph.

“Oh-my-god,” Maya gasped. She jerked the wheel, cutting across two lanes, and slammed on the brakes to pull up under a railway bridge. Cars screamed past them, horns blaring.

Adaq flicked his fingers through the coloured notes. Most were twenties, but there were fifties in there too. Lots of them. The numbers in his head soon couldn’t keep up. His breath was short and his mind suddenly fogged up. Next to him, his sister whooped and
slapped the steering wheel.

“This is a good day!” she laughed.

Adaq wanted to laugh too, but nothing came out. Where was his flood of happiness? There must have been a thousand pounds in his hands. Even after he split it with Maya he’d still be the richest 13-year-old he knew. But he couldn’t smile. A dead weight was pulling his stomach downwards.

“We can’t keep this,” he said, finally, forcing the words out between breaths.

“What?” Maya wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. “Someone did see you? I knew it!” she said sharply.

“No. Nobody saw me. But...”

Adaq’s head throbbed and he wanted to be sick. I can’t do this any more, he thought. He shoved the money back into the soft leather wallet.

“What are you doing?” Maya said, grabbing at his hands.

“I’m serious. We should have stopped doing this ages ago.” For so long Adaq had wanted to be like Maya – she was the coolest big sister anybody could wish for. But he felt the weight of the wallet in his lap and all he could think was, what sort of person does this?

“I can’t believe you!” said Maya. “How ungrateful can you be?”

“It’s just wrong! You know it is!”

“All of a sudden? You didn’t think it was wrong yesterday, did you? Or when you could buy those trainers?”

Adaq clenched his teeth. His sister had a point. But he’d always told himself there were limits. Like never using the credit cards. And never stealing from anyone who didn’t look like they could afford to lose a bit of cash. But for the first time Adaq realised that maybe you only know what your limit is once you’ve screeched way past it.

“You done talking?” Maya asked calmly. “I want to head back... get one more for the day.” She glanced at her watch.

“One more?” Adaq couldn’t believe it. “Why do we need one more? Isn’t this enough? I’m done! I’m finished.”

“Finished? That’s not up to you, you...” Maya took a deep breath and tried to laugh again, as if this was just a normal family squabble. “You owe me, OK? I’ve taught you, I’ve looked after you. And I’ve given you half. Everything’s 50–50, even though I pay
for it all, including this car. I’m the one taking more of a risk and—”

“You?” spat Adaq, bunching up his fists. “I’m the one who lifts the wallets.”

“But I’m way more visible! You think this bit’s easy?” She took a stick of chalk from her pocket and waggled it in the air like an exclamation mark.

Lifters have a lot of different techniques, but they work best in pairs. Maya selected the target and worked out which pocket their wallet was in – usually she’d just knock into them and watch which pocket they checked a second later. Once she knew, a simple chalk mark on the target’s back gave Adaq all the information he needed to lift the wallet, while Maya drove the car round to the pick-up point.

“But if I got caught I’d…”

“You’d what? You’re not old enough to go to prison.” Maya was deliberately staying very calm now. It was so frustrating for Adaq he had to fight to stop himself lashing out. “They’d never catch you anyway,” she went on. “You’re too quick. And who’s going to follow you? I don’t think the police do a training course in free running, do they?”

“That’s not the point!” Adaq yelled at the top of his voice. He snatched up the wallet and shoved open the car door, bursting out onto the pavement. He stormed a few paces into the shadows of the bridge, but after a few strides his fury cleared. He had nowhere to go.

“Sorry,” Maya called out through the open car door.

Adaq lowered his shoulders. What would he do without his sister? What sort of a life would he have? At least she’d taught him something while school had beaten his mind and spirit every single day. And she’d looked out for him while everything was going on
at home. That would never change. Gradually, he felt the muscles throughout his body relax. When he lifted his head, he was shocked to see someone in the darkness watching him: a homeless man sitting under the arch of the railway bridge, swamped in a coat and sleeping bag. His eyes just had enough space to peek out below the rim of his cap and above the wild clumps of beard.

Without even thinking, Adaq pulled out a fat handful of cash from the wallet and thrust it at the homeless
man.

“Merry Christmas,” Adaq muttered, then ran back to the car.

“It’s July!” called out the man, but Adaq had already slammed the car
door.

“OK. Let’s go. One more.”

“I knew it,” said Maya softly, leaning over to kiss him. “You’ll never give up on me.” She checked her watch again.
Out of the corner of his eye, Adaq saw a strange smile flash across her face. What was she thinking?

He let the moment of doubt die.

Maya moved off into the flow of traffic and muttered, “We’re on a roll.”