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The Enemy
  • Текст добавлен: 31 октября 2016, 06:00

Текст книги "The Enemy"


Автор книги: Charlie Higson



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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 22 страниц)




29

Sam couldn’t tell how long the man had been carrying him through the tunnels. He’d worked out it was a man after a couple of minutes. Though he wasn’t like any of the other grown-ups he’d seen since the disaster. He had shaved and had long hair knotted into untidy dreadlocks, although he wasn’t black. He wore jeans and a baggy knitted jumper under his heavy overcoat.

And he didn’t smell.

He carried a torch. Not a hand-powered one like the kids had. A big, battery-powered thing that cast a strong, wide beam.

When they had set off he had asked Sam who he was and whether he was alone, and after that he had said very little.

Sam wondered how it was the man could talk. None of the other grown-ups could say a word. Their brains had been destroyed by the illness. This man could talk and use tools and weapons. How had he avoided catching the illness? What was he doing down here? And where was he taking Sam?

Sam had so many questions to ask, but the man wasn’t answering any. He hurried on through the tunnels, sure-footed, knowing exactly where he was going.

They had passed two stations – Angel and Old Street – and the man showed no signs of slowing down. He held Sam firmly under his arm, and it was getting more and more uncomfortable.

‘It’s all right,’ Sam said at last, fearing that his brains were going to be shaken loose. ‘I can walk, you know. You don’t have to carry me.’

‘Quicker this way,’ said the man. ‘Soon be there.’

‘Be where?’

‘You’ll see.’

The man’s feet sloshed rhythmically through the groundwater. Which grew deeper and deeper after they left Angel. He had to wade up to his waist through one section. It shallowed a little after that, but when they finally got to the next station there was still about thirty centimetres of water along the tracks beneath the platform. They had come to Moorgate. Sam had no idea where that was.

The man stopped for a rest. Sat Sam on the platform edge.

‘There used to be pumps,’ he said.

‘What?’ said Sam, surprised that the man was talking to him.

‘Pumps,’ the man repeated. He didn’t have a London accent. It was a soft country accent, sort of fruity, like a farmer. ‘All the tubes and tunnels underground used to have pumps in them, to keep the water out. With no one working them the water’s coming up. City’s drowning, I reckon.’

‘Where are you taking me?’ said Sam.

The man smiled. ‘You’ll see.’

He picked Sam up again and trotted off.

It wasn’t far to the next station but Sam still felt like he’d had enough. When they got there the man put Sam on to the platform and climbed up after him. He took hold of Sam’s hand.

‘Stick with me, kiddo,’ he said, leading Sam along the platform. ‘We don’t want you getting lost.’

Sam looked at the station name. Bank. The tiles either side of the sign made a shape of dragons. There were openings through to the platform on the other side, but they were barred by locked barriers. When they came to the last one, the man unlocked it and took Sam through, before locking it carefully behind him. This platform was identical to the other one, except there was a train standing at it. Small candles in glass jars on the ground gave a warm glow. There was the sound of a generator, and the smell of petrol fumes. The exit and way up to the station was at the end on the left, the opening crudely blocked with an old iron bed frame.

‘Home sweet home,’ said the man and he went over to the train and banged on the side of one of the carriages.

Presently the doors slid open and a woman appeared in the doorway. She was round and jolly looking, with a big woolly jumper like the man’s, and a long, wide skirt. She had a bush of greying reddish hair and a kindly face. She beamed at Sam when she saw him.

‘And who have we got here then?’ she said.

‘His name’s Sam,’ said the man. ‘Found him up at King’s Cross, and I reckon he’s probably one hungry lad.’

‘Come on in, come in.’ The woman bustled back inside and Sam followed.

The carriage had been fitted out as a living area, and looked very cosy. There were flickering candles, curtains at the windows, rugs and cushions on the floor and drapes over the seats. A makeshift double bed filled one part and in the open area by two of the doors the couple had even rigged up a stove. Sam noticed that there was a chimney above it that went up into the ventilation ducts in the station ceiling, exactly like Ben and Bernie had built at Waitrose.

‘Now you sit yourself down, young man,’ said the woman. ‘And I’ll get you some soup. How about that, eh? I’ll just move Orion.’

Sam looked. There was a big ginger cat lying on one of the seats. The woman scooped him up and tickled him behind his ear. He purred happily.

‘You have a cat?’ Sam said, sitting down. He couldn’t quite believe any of this was really happening.

‘That’s right. Plenty of food for him down in these tunnels,’ said the woman. ‘I’m Rachel, by the way. Old grumpy face there is Nick. He don’t say much, so I’m guessing he’s not introduced himself. Am I right?’

‘He hasn’t,’ said Sam.

‘Less of the “grumpy face”, woman,’ said Nick.

‘Oh, I know you’re not really grumpy inside; it’s just your manner. But the poor lad’s probably terrified. You need to show him a bit of kindness.’

‘I’m all right,’ said Sam. ‘I’m glad Nick rescued me.’

‘So am I, my love,’ said Rachel. ‘So am I.’

She tinkered about at the stove, stirring the contents of a pan with a big wooden spoon. The smell was overpowering. Sam’s mouth was filling with saliva, his stomach shouting for food.

‘Be ready in a jiffy.’

Sam felt warm and safe and sleepy. He was on the verge of crying. He looked across at Nick, who was sitting on the bed. Nick winked and his face creased into a smile. Sam smiled back.

‘So what were you doing, all alone down there?’ Nick asked, taking out a tobacco pouch and rolling a cigarette.

‘I’d gone into the station to get away from some grownups,’ said Sam, yawning. ‘Then I got stuck down there. Every time I tried to get out there were more of them.’

‘They’re like big old rats,’ said Nick, making a sour face. ‘The sick ones. We’re pretty safe round these parts, though. They’ve learnt to leave us alone. They don’t bother us none.’

‘Why didn’t you two get sick?’ asked Sam. ‘We thought everyone over fourteen had got ill.’

Nick shrugged. ‘Dunno,’ he said. ‘There’s probably others like us, somewhere. When we’re ready I guess we’ll go looking for answers. For now we’re just glad to be alive and healthy.’ He tapped his head. ‘Touch wood.’

‘So you were by yourself, young Sam, were you?’ Rachel asked.

‘We got split up,’ said Sam. ‘I was trying to find my friends. They were on their way into London to Buckingham Palace.’

‘What on earth for?’

‘It’s safe there.’

‘Yeah?’ said Nick. ‘First I heard about it. Mind you, I ain’t been over that way since this all started.’

‘So, these friends of yours?’ said Rachel. ‘Are there many of them?’

‘About fifty, I think.’

‘Fifty?’ said Nick. ‘You’re joking, aren’t you? We never found that many kids together nowhere.’

‘You’ve found other kids then?’ said Sam. ‘Alive?’

‘Yes, we have,’ said Rachel, bringing a bowl of soup over to Sam. ‘We look after ’em. We fix ’em up and we feed them and we make sure they’re safe.’

‘So where are they all now?’

‘Safe,’ said Rachel. ‘Now eat.’

‘Why do you stay down here?’

‘We just do. We hid out here to start with and just sort of got stuck. That’s enough questions now, you need some food inside you.’

Sam scooped up a spoonful of soup and blew on it. It was thin and brown but smelt good.

‘Just vegetables, I’m afraid,’ said Rachel, ruffling his hair. ‘Whatever we can find in tins.’

Sam tasted the soup, which was watery but delicious. His whole body shuddered with the delight of it and he instantly felt a warm glow in his stomach.

‘You don’t look too bad,’ said Nick, watching him eat. ‘You’ve been managing to survive all right?’

As he ate, Sam told them everything that had happened since he’d been captured.

‘Shame you got split up,’ said Rachel, sitting down next to Nick and taking his hand.

‘Is the palace a long way from here?’ Sam asked, spooning up the last of the soup.

‘Quite a journey,’ said Rachel. ‘Right the way across London.’

‘When I’ve had a rest,’ said Sam, ‘will you show me the way?’

Rachel laughed. ‘What are you talking about? A little lad like you can’t go traipsing off across London all on his own.’

‘Would you come with me then?’ said Sam. ‘To the palace?’

‘I don’t know about that,’ said Nick. ‘We’re settled here.’

‘But they’re growing food and everything,’ said Sam. ‘Adults like you would be really useful.’

‘It’s a dangerous journey. I think it’s best you stay here.’

‘Oh,’ said Sam, ‘but I can’t stay. I mean, thanks and everything for the food. It’s very nice, but I can’t stay here. My sister –’

‘We’ll see.’ Rachel cut him off. ‘Don’t you worry about that for now. You just eat your soup, and then you look like you could do with a nice little snooze. Am I right?’

‘Yes,’ said Sam. ‘But I really must find my sister.’

‘All in good time,’ said Nick and he got up to collect the empty soup bowl that Sam had licked clean.

Sam sat there, his stomach gurgling happily. His eyelids dropped down then flickered back up again.

‘I’m very sleepy,’ he said.

‘Why don’t you lie on the bed?’

‘Yes, I’d like that.’

Rachel took him to the bed and settled him down, sitting next to him, stroking his hair. Nick stood behind her, smiling. The cat, Orion, sat nearby, also watching him, with black shining eyes.

‘When you wake up,’ Nick said, ‘we’ll have a good old chinwag, eh? See what’s to be done with you.’

‘Mmm…’

‘My brave little soldier,’ said Rachel.

Sam was asleep.





30

The bloody mannequins freaked Maxie out. She was on edge enough as it was, trying to keep the kids under control inside the store. They needed to stick together. The scouting party had given them the all-clear, but she was still frightened. The last couple of days had reminded her that you were never safe, you could never know what was waiting for you round the corner. And if you let your guard down…

They’d been through the menswear on the floor below and picked it clean. And now as they searched through the women’s casual wear section there were squeals of delight. Blue had been right. It had certainly lifted everyone’s spirits, but if they were attacked while they were vulnerable it would soon wipe the smiles off their faces. And she’d get the blame for letting them come in here.

Although most of the stuff was too big for the smaller kids, they still grabbed anything they could. As they came across each fresh batch the excitement rose as they snatched at the clothes and argued over them, running from one pile to another. Maxie tried to stay on top of things, but kept on getting distracted herself as she saw something she liked. At least now the boys had calmed down and were more alert – they had no interest in the women’s clothing. The main problem was that they kept ducking behind cabinets and shelving to change in the shadows and dump their old things. As many as stood guard were out of action.

Maxie found an Agnes B top and some trousers that looked like they’d fit her. She slipped them into her backpack. She would change later, when she was sure it was safe. She was too anxious now. The thought of being ambushed when she was half naked didn’t excite her. She pictured herself being chased around Selfridges with her trousers round her knees.

She spotted a black leather jacket and was irresistibly drawn to it. She looked at the label – Belstaff. It was sturdy and well made, had several useful pockets and would offer some protection. At least, that’s what she told herself. In truth, she just liked the look of it. She put it on and tried to look at herself in a broken mirror. She couldn’t see very well in the half-light. A little big, but it fitted OK.

‘That’s nice. It’s like mine.’

Maxie turned to see Sophie watching her, her bow at the ready in her hands.

‘You think I’m taking it so I can look like you?’

‘That’s not what I meant. I only meant I liked it.’

‘Why should I care whether you like it or not?’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.’

‘Didn’t you? I know what you’re doing. Trying to ingratiate yourself. Trying to make friends. Well don’t bother. We’ll never be your friends, Sophie. OK? Not after what you did.’

‘All right. I know how you feel, Maxie.’

‘No you don’t.’

‘Just leave it. I’m sorry.’

‘You think you’re so great, don’t you?’ said Maxie. ‘In your leather jacket with your bow and arrow. Well, you’re nothing. The only person you’ve killed with that thing is Arran. Great. Well done.’

‘Listen, Maxie,’ said Sophie, and Maxie could sense the emotion in her voice, as if she was on the verge of tears. ‘I know we can’t be friends. But we do have to find a way to get along.’

‘Why? I never wanted you with us in the first place.’

‘Fine. Be like that. I thought you were cleverer, though.’

‘What? What did you say?’ Maxie advanced on Sophie. ‘Don’t insult me.’

‘Why not?’ said Sophie angrily. ‘You insulted me. I understand about Arran. He was your boyfriend, and –’

‘He was not my boyfriend. Maybe if he’d lived he might have been. But we’ll never know, will we?’

Sophie struggled to say something, then gave up. She turned her back on Maxie and walked away.

Maxie felt a brief moment of triumph, and then it was swamped by black despair. Why was she such a cow?

She knew why.

She was tired and scared and miserable and still aching over Arran.

It wasn’t Sophie’s fault. She knew it wasn’t, but when she saw her pretty face she just wanted to lash out at her.

She swore quietly and left the main group, returning to the central well. She needed to be alone for a minute. It was quieter here. There was no one around – and no one keeping watch. She looked over the low wall. Shone her torch down, searching the floors below.

She caught her breath.

There was something moving.

She called out.

‘Hello? Anyone down there? Hey. We need to keep together.’

Nothing. No sound. No movement. Maybe she’d imagined it? She was so jumpy she was seeing dangers everywhere. She raked the beam over the area. It was still now.

She sighed and turned to walk along the balcony.

Sophie was there, about four metres away, her bow up to her face. The string was drawn back, an arrow glinting, ready to be fired. Sophie’s face was set into a hard mask. Her eyes wide in the gloom.

Maxie swallowed. The blood throbbed in her head. She really didn’t know this girl at all. Know what she was capable of.

‘Don’t move,’ said Sophie coldly, but Maxie couldn’t have moved even if she’d wanted to. She was welded to the spot. Her legs felt like they were made of lead.

Why had she been so stupid? Pushing Sophie like that. They were living in a different world now with different rules.

What would the girl do?

Maxie let out her breath.

‘Sophie,’ she said, ‘I…’

Sophie released the bowstring. The arrow sizzled through the air and swished barely a centimetre past Maxie’s right arm.

She had missed.

Maxie heard a thud behind her and she spun round.

A grown-up was standing there, a father, the arrow in its chest. He staggered sideways, flapping at the arrow and whining, then he hit the wall and toppled over the balcony. Maxie twisted round to watch him fall. He dropped all the way down to the bottom, turning slowly in the air, and landed with an almighty crash, splintering a table.

The sound was followed by complete silence. All the kids froze where they were, listening hard. What was going on?

Achilleus ran up to Maxie. She hardly recognized him. He was wearing a shiny new silvery-grey suit over a dark blue T-shirt.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Grown-ups,’ Maxie croaked, the words sticking in her dry throat.





31

Small Sam slept deeply. His chest rising and falling. Rachel was still sitting by his side, stroking his forehead and cooing to him.

‘Don’t he look peaceful?’ she said.

Nick grunted, went over to a chest and pulled out a drawer. He took a pair of handcuffs from it and walked back to the bed. He gently lifted Sam’s left hand and snapped the cuffs tight around it.

‘Almost seems a shame,’ said Rachel. ‘He’s a nice kid.’

‘Don’t get attached, Rachel, love. Remember how it was with the pigs? You should never have named them. Once you name them they become pets.’

‘It’s all right,’ said Rachel, pushing a lock of hair off Sam’s face. ‘I won’t get attached.’





32

The kids had been called together and a fighting party had quickly assembled around Achilleus, but they could see no sign of any more grown-ups.

‘Maybe there was only one of them,’ said Lewis, who was wearing a light blue v-necked cashmere sweater.

‘No,’ said Freak, pointing. ‘Look.’

‘Oh, my days!’

Shambling down the frozen escalator from the floor above in complete silence were about fifteen grown-ups. They were all wearing new clothes, festooned with hats and jewellery and belts and scarves and carrying expensive new luggage. But it was a mess, like some awful fancy-dress parade. They looked like children who had raided their parents’ wardrobes. The clothes didn’t match, or were the wrong size, or were simply being worn in the wrong way. One man was wearing two jackets but no trousers, another wore a dress, some of the women had things on back to front, and they had smeared their faces with make-up. One wore her underwear on the outside, like some freakish superhero, and had what looked like a lampshade on her head. An impossibly skinny old woman wore a flashy Nike tracksuit, a fur coat, a long blonde wig and several strings of pearls. She carried a camera on a strap over one shoulder and had only one shoe. High-heeled. Making her limp.

It was an eerie sight as they came down in a huddle, like a bunch of weird tourists.

‘Kill them,’ said Achilleus, and he raised his spear.

‘No, wait,’ said Maxie. ‘I don’t think they’re going to attack.’

‘Who cares?’ said Achilleus. ‘They’re grown-ups. Kill them.’

‘Look at them. They’re harmless.’

‘We’ll see about that.’ Achilleus walked over to the group, who had stopped at the bottom of the escalator. They cowered away from him. One father, who had several ties knotted around his shirtless neck, raised his hand defensively. Achilleus struck his spear into his chest and he fell back. The other grown-ups shrank further away. Achilleus advanced on them, herding them across the floor. They stuck together like frightened ducklings. Utterly bewildered. Achilleus started to laugh.

‘Look at the silly sods,’ he said. ‘They’re pathetic.’ He grabbed the old woman and shook her till her wig came off.

‘What do you look like? Eh?’ he said, throwing her into the others. ‘The lot of you. You’re freaks. Morons.’ He snatched a hat off one of the fathers and stuffed it on top of his own head.

‘Come on, you sheep,’ said Achilleus, steering the little group between a row of pillars. ‘Show us your stuff.’

The other kids were starting to laugh now and four of the older ones joined Achilleus, tormenting the grown-ups, chasing them around, tripping them up, until they were all crowded into a corner, shivering and gibbering.

The big kids prodded them with their weapons, and pushed a couple over. Then Achilleus and Big Mick grabbed one of the fathers and dragged him across the floor.

Achilleus sniggered. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s see if you like heights.’

Laughing, they took him to the balcony and before Maxie could stop them they’d taken hold of him by the ankles and hoisted him over the side. He dangled there, his arms clawing at the air.

‘Look at him,’ said Achilleus. ‘He’s trying to fly.’

‘Stop it!’ Maxie shouted.

‘Stop it? Why? These bastards have been making our lives hell. Killing us, eating us… well, now it’s our turn.’

‘Not this lot,’ said Maxie. ‘They’ve never done anything to you. They’re harmless. Look at them.’

‘They’re all the same,’ said Achilleus. ‘All guilty. If it wasn’t for grown-ups we wouldn’t be in this mess. They mucked up our planet. They caused the disaster. Every one of them is to blame. We should wipe them off of the face of the Earth.’

‘We don’t know what caused the disaster,’ said Maxie.

‘Oh yeah, I forgot, it was God, wasn’t it?’

‘Or spacemen,’ said Big Mick, and he sniggered.

‘We don’t know,’ said Maxie. ‘But we can’t become animals. We’ll be like them.’

‘No, we won’t. We’ll be top dogs, and we’ll hunt them down and slaughter them.’

‘Achilleus, this is not right.’

Maxie looked round for support. Half of the kids were laughing, some looked worried, some were crying. She saw Blue, staring at Achilleus, fascinated.

‘Blue,’ said Maxie. ‘Tell him.’

‘Let him go,’ said Blue.

‘All right.’

Achilleus and Mick let go and the father gave a little gasp as he plummeted to the basement floor.

‘He couldn’t fly after all,’ said Achilleus.

‘You idiot,’ said Maxie with as much scorn as she could muster. Achilleus tried to look dismissive – but she saw in his eyes that he thought he’d maybe gone too far.

‘Who’s next?’ he said and strode over to the other grownups, but Blue put himself between him and them.

‘C’mon, man,’ he said quietly, and nodded to the smaller kids. ‘I think there’s been enough death lately. I don’t think the little ones want to see any more. OK?’

‘So we just let them go?’

‘They’re not our business,’ said Blue. ‘They’re certainly not dangerous. They just come in here like us. To get some new clothes. I guess old habits die hard. Now let’s get out of here. They’re waiting for us at the palace.’

A couple of kids slapped Achilleus and Mick on their backs, but most avoided them and Maxie felt disgusted. She caught Sophie’s eye and Sophie looked away.

Now wasn’t the time to thank her.

Someone put a hand on her shoulder. It was Blue.

‘You done well, girl,’ he said. ‘You look after yourself now, yeah? We need people like you.’

‘Thanks. And thanks for sticking up for me.’


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