Текст книги "The Enemy"

Автор книги: Charlie Higson

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

33

Callum watched them from the crow’s-nest with his binoculars. They’d begun to arrive that morning in ones and twos, drifting in from the direction of Camden. They stood about aimlessly at first, now and then coming over to the shop and inspecting it. After a while they grew braver. They battered uselessly against the barricades or the windows, before wandering off and squabbling with each other.

Idiots.

He’d had a lovely morning. He had no idea what time it was when he got up. All he knew was that it was light outside. From now on he would get up when he wanted, and eat when he was hungry. He wasn’t going to turn into a slob, though. He had made his bed and the place was clean and tidy. When he went to the toilet he took the bucket to the end of the Waitrose car park, climbed a ladder and tipped it over the wall into a garden. It smelt a little but it would decompose. Stuff would probably grow there.

He was going to look after himself. Clear away each meal when he was finished, wash regularly, and change and clean his clothes. He wasn’t a savage. That was what his mum had used to say. ‘Callum, do the washing-up, we’re not savages.’

He thought of himself as being like someone stranded on a desert island. Marooned. Like Robinson Crusoe. Or Lost. If he kept on top of things he would survive. He had calculated that his supply of food would last him at least a year if he was careful. And he was careful. After breakfast he’d done his exercises. Push-ups, sit-ups, star jumps, stretches and a bit of work with an old set of weights that Achilleus had found one day and brought back to the shop. Then he’d run twenty laps round the circuit he’d made on the shop floor. He would be fitter than he’d ever been before.

He planned to spend most of his time up here on the roof where he felt most at home. Of course it would be different when it got cold and wet but for now it was glorious, sitting in the crow’s-nest looking out over Holloway. He’d be able to stay up here as long as he liked today. The sky was blue and mostly clear. There was still a faint smoke haze from a big fire over Camden way, but it looked like it had stopped spreading.

Bliss. He had everything he needed. The stupid, meandering grown-ups below even provided him with entertainment. He liked to watch them fight and he’d put imaginary bets on who would win.

He wondered where Arran and the others had got to. They must surely be at the palace by now.

He smiled. The last place he wanted to be was Buckingham Palace. Crammed in there with all those kids. No peace and quiet. Always someone telling you what to do. Waiting your turn for food. Queuing for the bathroom. Arguing all the time. No way. They could keep their palace. He was king of all he could see and he aimed to keep it that way.

He felt something tickling his cheek. A fly, probably. He put a hand up to brush it away and it came back wet.

It was a tear. He was crying.

Why was he crying? He had no reason to cry. Even as he thought about it, though, his body heaved in a great sob and the next moment there were tears flooding down his face and he was wailing like a baby.

He shouldn’t have thought about the others. He shouldn’t have thought about them. He was so lonely. So bloody lonely.

34

The kids had reassembled on the pavement. Maxie couldn’t help thinking they looked a little like the sad grown-ups they’d found inside, wearing clothes that didn’t really suit them, or fit properly. But she had to admit that they were at least cleaner than they had been before. They wouldn’t look so much like an army of tramps. Some, like her, had chosen to pack their clothes away for later and she was determined not to be embarrassed or self-conscious about how she smelt. Besides, it was their bodies underneath that really reeked. No amount of clean clothes could hide that fact. You kind of got used to it when you were surrounded by it all the time, but if you ever stopped and thought about it – yeck. Maybe, if what Jester had told them was true, they could all get baths and showers at the palace.

The palace? The very idea of it sounded ridiculous. She didn’t really quite believe it yet. She was taking every moment as it came, trying not to think too far ahead. Trying not to hope.

Blue was getting his crew together, checking with Whitney that they were all there. Maxie found Ollie, who was also counting heads. He reassured her that everyone was present.

‘OK,’ Maxie shouted at her kids, jumping up on to a street bench. ‘We’re ready now. We won’t stop again until we reach the palace. It’s not far, half an hour at the most. Are you ready?’

Everyone gave a big cheer and with a light feeling inside Maxie went over to Blue.

‘We’re all set,’ she said. ‘Shall we go?’

‘Yeah.’ Blue raised his arm, just as Arran had done the day before, then dropped it and they marched across Oxford Street and down towards Grosvenor Square in perfect formation.

A group of little kids had adopted Godzilla. Monkey-Boy, Ella and Blu-Tack Bill. It gave them something to think about other than themselves and stopped them from worrying too much. They took it in turns to carry him and they fussed over him like a little baby. They had some cans of dog food and they shared it with him. Feeding him from a spoon.

It was Blu-Tack Bill’s turn to hold Godzilla and, in his mind, he spoke to him, and he imagined the dog’s replies so vividly it was as if they were having a real conversation.

You’re like me, Godzilla. You can’t talk.

Doesn’t mean I’m stupid.

Me neither. Talking don’t make anything better. Maybe I should bark like a dog.

I don’t think you should, people will think you’re weird.

They already do. But I don’t care. I’m never going to talk again.

The grown-ups don’t talk any more.

No. But you know what, Godzilla, they are stupid.

Will you really never talk again?

I think so. I’m happy like this. I’m safe. If nobody can hear your thoughts they can’t hurt you. You’re the only one who knows me, Godzilla. And I’m the only one who knows you. We’ll always be friends, won’t we?

Yeah. Do you like any of the new kids?

I like Maxie, she’s nice. And Maeve is kind. But Achilleus scares me.

Are you looking forward to getting to the palace?

Yeah. I’ve never been to a palace before. In fact I’ve never left Holloway before. I wish I’d come here before everything went wrong.

‘Can I hold him?’

Bill looked up. Ella was talking to him. He held Godzilla tighter. It wasn’t her turn yet. He’d only had him a little while.

‘Let her hold him,’ said Monkey-Boy. ‘She’s getting upset thinking about her brother again.’

Bill held Godzilla even tighter. The dog squirmed in his arms and whimpered. Bill loosened his grip a little.

Don’t worry. You can still talk to me if she’s carrying me.

Bill shook his head.

Whitney came over. She was only thirteen but to the small kids she was as big and imposing as an adult.

‘What’s the matter?’ she said.

‘Ella wants to hold the puppy,’ said Monkey-Boy, ‘because she’s sad thinking about her brother, but it’s Bill’s turn.’

‘What about Bill? Does he mind? Do you mind, Bill?’

Bill shook his head. He wasn’t going to let go. Even if he was a little bit scared of Whitney.

‘Come on.’ Whitney picked Ella up and put her on her shoulders. ‘When Bill’s had his go you can carry the dog. It’ll be something to look forward to, yeah?’

Ella nodded, swallowing her tears. She would never argue with Whitney. She looked sadly down at Godzilla. Sam would have liked him. Sam loved dogs. He’d always wanted one of his own.

She wondered if there would be other dogs at the palace. Jester said they had it all set up nice. Like a farm. Maybe there would be chickens and lambs. She’d like to see some lambs.

Maybe Godzilla would try to chase them.

No. They’d keep him on a lead.

‘You all right?’ Whitney looked up and squeezed Ella’s knee.

‘I think so.’

Maxie left her team on the flank and moved among the kids, making sure they were OK. Joking about their clothes. She saw Ella on Whitney’s shoulders, the two of them chatting away. Whitney was wearing a new white tracksuit that was slightly tight on her. Her big body packed it out.

Ella looked like she’d been crying. Maxie asked if she was all right.

‘She’s OK,’ said Whitney. ‘She was just thinking about her brother, Sam. I told her he’s gone to heaven where he’ll be happy.’

‘Yeah.’ Maxie gave Ella’s knee a squeeze. ‘Don’t fret about him. He’s gone somewhere where he can’t be hurt any more.’

‘I miss him.’

‘We all miss him. But when we get to the palace we can make new friends, meet new people. They’ll never replace Sam, I know, but it’ll be a new start for us.’

‘Will there be princesses at the palace?’

Maxie laughed. ‘I don’t think so, darling. Just normal kids like us. So you stop your crying, OK? Just think happy thoughts.’

‘What about you?’ said Whitney, fixing Maxie with a stare. ‘You thinking happy thoughts?’

‘Trying to. Trying to keep busy.’

‘So you’re good?’

‘I’m good,’ said Maxie.

Whitney studied her. ‘If you’re lying I’ll know.’

‘As good as can be expected,’ said Maxie.

‘That’s right,’ said Whitney. ‘Reckon that’s the best any of us can say. Is that boy, Blue, behaving himself?’

Maxie nodded. ‘I guess so. We’re sorting it out between us.’

‘He’s cool, you know,’ said Whitney. ‘He helped all of us in Morrisons through some hard times, some bare hard times, you better believe it. That’s why he’s in charge.’

‘I was wondering about that,’ said Maxie. ‘In the meeting, back at Waitrose, you seemed to be the one that everyone listened to.’

‘Blue runs around and shouts and waves his spear, but it’s us sisters who really rule the roost. The kids, though, they felt safer with a man… well, a boy, in charge. A fighter. There was a lot of fighting in them days.’

‘You needed a wartime leader,’ said Maxie.

‘War is right. And talking of war, you should be out on the flank with your team. I can look after the little ones.’

‘Sure.’ Maxie smiled and rejoined her unit.

Lewis, on the other flank, was entertaining his team with a long story about a football match he’d played in where three kids had broken their legs. They were all laughing but keeping a watchful eye out at the same time.

‘By the end of the game,’ said Lewis, ‘everyone was, like, walking around wide-eyed and shivering, too scared to run. Nobody would tackle anyone, they was too scared to even, like, kick the ball, man. I was in goal, so I wasn’t too bothered, and in the end they had to call the match off. Can you imagine. Three people! It was carnage, man.’

This part of London couldn’t have been more different from Holloway, where they had started their journey. There were expensive flats and houses, antique shops, art galleries, a Porsche dealer still with some cars in the showroom.

‘Do you think there’ll be a better class of zombies round here?’ said Ollie.

Sophie was walking with him. Ollie was the Holloway kid who had shown her the most kindness. She noticed that he kept himself to himself. Didn’t cosy up with any one particular group of kids. He was quiet and thoughtful, something of an outsider. Perhaps that was what he saw in her. She was an outsider too.

‘They’re not technically zombies, are they?’ said Sophie.

‘No,’ said Ollie. ‘They’re not the living dead, as such. Thank God they can’t come back to life after you whack them.’

Ollie was almost walking backwards, so often was he turning round to check behind. Sophie was seeing more of the back of his red head than of his face.

‘You’re making me nervous,’ she said.

‘It’s good to be nervous,’ said Ollie. ‘We don’t want to end up as well-dressed corpses.’

‘You saw the grown-ups back at Selfridges,’ said Sophie. ‘I think you’re right. The ones round here are different.’

‘Yeah, well, I’ll bet you we have another fight on our hands before we get to the palace.’

‘You’re on,’ said Sophie. ‘How much d’you want to put on it?’

‘A million.’

‘A million? You haven’t got a million quid.’

‘What if I did?’ said Ollie. ‘What use would it be to me? There’s nothing to spend it on. Money doesn’t mean anything any more. What if we were to break into one of these posh banks round here? Get into the vault and take all the cash out. What would we ever use it for? Lighting fires?’

‘Actually, I don’t think bank notes burn that well,’ said Sophie. ‘But I take your point. So what do you want to bet with? How about my bow against your slingshot?’

‘Are you serious?’

‘No,’ said Sophie. ‘My bow is just about the most important thing in the world right now.’

‘Same goes for my slingshot.’

‘So the bet’s off?’

‘I’ve got a packet of biscuits,’ said Ollie. ‘You got any food?’

‘Tin of carrots.’

‘OK – I’ll bet my biscuits against your carrots.’

‘These biscuits?’ said Sophie. ‘Are they stale?’

‘What do you think?’

Sophie thought about it. ‘OK,’ she said at last. ‘You’re on.’

They shook on it.

35

Ollie won his bet sooner than he expected. As the main body of kids were crossing Berkeley Square Achilleus and Big Mick, who had been scouting ahead, came running back, out of breath.

‘There’s grown-ups. Up ahead,’ Achilleus panted.

‘Can we go round them?’ Maxie asked.

‘They’re attacking some kids,’ said Mick. ‘It don’t look good.’

‘How many of them?’ said Blue.

‘About fifteen or twenty.’

‘Can we take them?’

‘Yeah,’ said Achilleus. ‘We can take them.’

‘OK,’ said Maxie. ‘I’ll stay here with my squad. We’ll guard the little kids and the non-fighters. Blue, you take everyone else down. Once it’s safe send someone back for us.’

‘You got it.’

In less than a minute Maxie had the little kids safely in the centre of the square and Blue was hurrying off with Jester and the fighters. They turned a corner into a short straight street that ran down towards Green Park.

‘They’re just up ahead,’ Achilleus yelled, and Blue slowed down.

‘Lewis, take the left flank,’ he shouted. ‘Ollie and Sophie, keep your lot on the right. Fire as soon as you can. The rest of us, wait for the missiles then we go in hard and fast.’

The street opened out on to the top of Piccadilly. Ahead was a wide four-lane highway, with the trees of Green Park on the far side. To the left was Green Park tube station and the Ritz Hotel.

A bloody battle was taking place in the middle of the road between five kids and a much larger group of grownups. These were a mean-looking bunch, very different from the ones in Selfridges. They were half naked, lean and battle-hardened. Twelve fathers with no shirts and five mothers in vests. They all looked like they’d been regulars at the gym before the disaster, and they’d somehow kept fit since. Fit but not healthy. They were studded with boils and sores and festering, weeping wounds. They were massacring the kids – three of whom were already down, one torn almost in half. Four grown-ups were ripping into another who must surely be already dead. The two kids left standing were a boy and a girl. The girl’s face was covered in blood, but she was supporting the boy, who was on his last legs and clutching a sword. A ring of grown-ups was circling them, ready to finish them off.

So far they hadn’t noticed the Holloway kids’ arrival.

‘Leave the ones in the circle,’ said Ollie, fitting a shot to his sling. ‘We might hit the kids. Take the others out first.’

As he spoke, the grown-ups realized that they had company and they turned almost as one, fresh blood-lust lighting up their faces, and charged across the road.

If they thought they were going to have an easy time of it, they were sadly mistaken. The battle was over almost before it began.

Ollie’s team let loose a deadly volley. Six grown-ups went down straight away. Now Blue and Achilleus led the central group forward as Ollie’s team fell back. The surviving grown-ups carried on, too stupid to pull out of their assault. They were met by the fighters who punched into them, weapons held high. Most grown-ups fell to the tarmac, but three escaped and ran off to the sides. Lewis’s team took down two. Ollie and Sophie got the other one. An arrow thudded into his back at the exact same moment as a slingshot got him in the head.

Achilleus and Mick finished off the wounded.

In a few seconds every one of the grown-ups lay dead on the floor.

Jester whistled. ‘That was well done,’ he said. ‘Very well done.’

Ollie turned to Sophie.

‘You owe me some carrots,’ he said, but there was no joy in it. The sight of the dead kids was too upsetting.

Blue called Lewis’s team over. ‘Go back for Maeve,’ he said. ‘Looks like we’ll need her. Tell them it’s all clear, but hold the others back out of the way until we’ve got rid of the bodies. I don’t want the small ones to see this.’

While Achilleus and Mick organized the removal of the dead grown-ups, dragging them across the road and dumping them down the steps to the tube, Blue checked the kids.

The three lying down were well dead. Mutilated. Almost unrecognizable as human beings.

‘Better get these out of the way as well,’ said Blue. ‘No time for any fancy funerals.’

The girl was sitting on the ground now, cradling the boy in her lap. She was staring into the distance, her eyes empty. Blue spoke to her but she didn’t respond. Her face was slashed, a flap of skin hanging down from her forehead.

‘You’ll be all right,’ said Blue. ‘You’re safe now.’

Again she didn’t respond.

Jester’s shadow fell across Blue.

Blue squinted up at him.

‘I thought you said there were no grown-ups round here,’ he said.

Jester shrugged. ‘This isn’t usual,’ he said.

‘If you’ve been lying to us…’ said Blue.

‘This isn’t usual,’ Jester repeated and bent to pick up the sword that the boy had dropped.

Maeve arrived, her medical kit already out. She knelt down and checked the girl over.

‘I’ll need to disinfect that and put a bandage on,’ she said, unscrewing a glass bottle. ‘What about the boy?’

Blue looked at the boy. He was lying very still. He tried his pulse. Shook his head. Gently he prised the girl’s fingers apart where they were gripping her friend’s jacket and moved the body away.

Ollie and Sophie had broken into a nearby shop and quickly built a makeshift stretcher out of some clothes rails and a curtain. They came over and settled the wounded girl on to it. When the rest of the group finally emerged on to the main road there was little sign that any fight had ever taken place here. It was quiet and peaceful, apart from the flies that were already gathering by the tube station steps.

Maxie led the small kids across the road and into Green Park. The sunlight was dancing in the trees, birds were singing, but everyone was remembering the attack in Regent’s Park, and looking nervously around, so that it was a shock when they realized they’d come to the edge of the park and they glanced up to see Canada Gate and there, beyond it, the great ugly bulk of Buckingham Palace.

36

They approached the building slowly, hardly able to believe that they’d arrived, let alone that they might spend their lives here. It was one of the most famous buildings in the world and yet they were seeing it properly for the first time. Taking it in as a place to live rather than just as another of London’s many tourist attractions. In front of it was a massive expanse of pink-coloured roundabout, on an island in the centre of which sat the white marble block of the Victoria Memorial, with Queen Victoria herself sitting on her throne looking off down the Mall. The still-gleaming gold statue of winged Victory stood over her.

Separating the palace from the public were tall black iron railings topped with gold spikes and behind the railings was the parade ground where the famous Changing of the Guard used to take place. And then there was the building itself. This was no fairy-tale palace. It was a solid, grey lump. Even though it was a good five storeys high, its immense width made it look quite low and unimposing. The front was made up of three huge rectangular blocks linked by long sweeps of flat-fronted wall. Rows of neatly ordered windows ran from side to side with dull mathematical precision. The central block had an entrance at the base through an archway, above which sat the famous balcony where the Royal Family used to appear to cheering crowds on special occasions. Four pillars ran up from the balcony to the top of the building, supporting a wide triangle that could have come from a Greek temple.

Dead centre of the roof was a flagpole, from which a ragged union flag hung limply against the windless sky.

As the kids got nearer they saw that there were sentries in the sentry boxes. They hadn’t been expecting this. They had presumed there would be kids keeping watch, but not in the sentry boxes where the soldiers in their bearskin hats had once stood. These sentries were only kids, but they were still in uniform. Red school blazers with black trousers and black baseball caps. They had rifles and had even been standing stiffly to attention. As they saw the war party approaching, however, they came alive. A couple ran back through the archway, the rest walked towards the railings, guns at the ready. Somebody on the balcony shouted something and the next moment there were faces at the windows. Soon more kids began to trickle out through the arch on to the parade ground. They came over to the railings and peered out, just as tourists in the past had used to peer in from the other side.

They watched in silence. Hands up on the railings. Curious but watchful. There must have been about twenty of them, kids of all ages, clean and well dressed.

Jester waved and called out.

‘Hey. It’s me. The Magic-Man has returned. And look who I’ve brought with me!’

Some of the kids’ faces lit up and they smiled. They peeled away from the railings and followed the group as they walked along to one of the ornate gateways.

‘Open up!’ Jester called out, and a small boy ran from the archway carrying a big set of keys. He rattled them in the lock and eventually the gates were opened. The war party trooped in, flanked by two lines of silent palace kids.

Lewis looked around at the staring faces. It reminded him of visiting another school for a football match. Everyone was checking everyone else out. Suspicious. Who were these strange new kids? Who were the ones to look out for? Who could be safely ignored? Who might be a friend? Who was a potential enemy?

More importantly: were there any nice-looking girls around?

There was a shout from the balcony and everyone looked up. A boy who looked to be about fifteen was standing there, with six more of the kids in uniform on either side of him. He was tall and very pale-skinned, with a spray of freckles over his face and neat curly black hair. He was wearing a suit and tie, and he was beaming down at them, his arms spread wide.

‘Magic-Man,’ he yelled. ‘Well done, Jester. We didn’t think we were ever going to see you again.’

‘You didn’t doubt me, did you, David?’

‘Never! But where are the others?’

‘They didn’t make it,’ said Jester, and there were gasps and groans from the assembled palace kids. ‘But this lot,’ Jester went on, trying to lighten the mood. ‘You should see them in action. They’re skilled fighters, David. They’re going to really make a difference.’

David smiled.

‘Well, come on in!’

They passed through the archway into a large inner quadrangle. The kids looked around awed – they had never realized quite how big the palace was. It seemed to go on forever. Jester led them to a doorway on the far side of the quadrangle.

Inside they passed through a grand stateroom into a wide, glass-roofed corridor lined with old paintings. From there they entered another large room that overlooked the gardens. There were more kids outside, tending crops. It was just how it had looked in Jester’s photographs, except the scale of it was more obvious. This wasn’t a garden so much as a small park.

Maeve had a word with Jester and he rounded up two boys. They took the stretcher with the wounded girl on it away. Maeve followed.

In a few minutes David appeared with his escort. He beamed at the newcomers and went round shaking hands and being introduced. He had a confident, friendly but slightly aloof air about him and had obviously been to a good private school. When he’d said hello to everyone he took them all outside and showed them round the gardens. They were growing potatoes and carrots, cabbages, beans, onions, marrows. You name it, they had planted it. The crops were laid out in neat rows and were well tended. There were also two enclosures, one for pigs and one for chickens.

They came across a serious-looking girl with glasses who was on her knees weeding a patch of spinach.

‘This is Franny,’ said David. ‘Our head gardener. Any questions about all this, she’s the person to ask.’

Franny got up. She rubbed her hands clean on her apron and said hello. A little shy. A little awkward around David.

As Franny chatted with the others, Maxie wandered away from the group and laughed, turning full circle on the lawn, trying to take it all in. The little kids were already running around and playing, all their cares forgotten. Godzilla was gambolling on the grass while his little group of carers ran with him. Shouting happily.

Maxie closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. When she opened them again she saw David strolling back towards the house, talking to a group of kids.

‘The kitchens here were designed for feeding lots of people,’ he was explaining. ‘We’ve rigged up some of the stoves to work with wood. We can cook hot food. We even bake our own bread. We’ll prepare a welcoming feast. We’ve plenty of food stored up.’

Maxie marvelled at how organized everything was and how relaxed everybody appeared to be. It was such a different feeling from being cooped up in Waitrose surrounded by grown-ups. To think that all this time these kids had been living this easy life when she’d had to spend every other day fighting to stay in one piece.

Arran would have been impressed with this.

Arran…

Maxie was overcome with a bittersweet feeling. Like when a small cloud drifts over the sun on a summer’s day. She knew that elsewhere in London terrible scenes were being acted out. Kids were lost in a world of pain and misery. She wasn’t sure she deserved this level of peace and contentment. She sat down on the grass and let herself go. Tears pouring down her face. She looked around. She wasn’t alone. Other kids were sitting there, overwhelmed by it all. All the tension and fear of the last two days was coming out. Kids were hugging each other or sitting alone with their thoughts. Like her, many were crying.

She also spotted some of the palace kids in little teary huddles. They had lost friends too, from Jester’s scouting party.

Maeve came out of the building. She saw Maxie and sat down next to her, putting her arms around her.

‘Is this really happening?’ she whispered.

‘I hope so,’ said Maxie, and they laughed through their tears.

‘I’ve just been upstairs speaking to a girl called Rose,’ said Maeve. ‘They’ve got a proper sick-bay and a sort of clinic. She’s been telling me about the medicines they’ve got. She even wears a nurse’s uniform. You should have seen how well they dealt with that poor girl we rescued. Oh, Maxie. It’s amazing. I never thought I’d see anything like this ever again. For the first time since the disaster I really feel like we might have a future.’

‘I know,’ said Maxie. ‘And after what we’ve been through, I reckon we can cope with anything. We’re going to survive, Maeve.’

Ollie was walking alone by the lake. There were ducks on it, probably fish swimming down below. He felt neither happy nor sad. He was thoughtful. This all looked fantastic on the surface.

Franny had given him a small lettuce to try. It had tasted delicious, but when he had pulled off one of the leaves he’d found a small slug on it.

There was always a slug on the lettuce.

This was too good to be true.

He had never trusted Jester, and he didn’t trust David.

He wasn’t going to let his guard down just yet.

Being careful had kept him alive this far.

There was no reason to stop being careful now.