Текст книги "The Enemy"

Автор книги: Charlie Higson

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

44

Freak was sitting on the steps of the Victoria Memorial, his chin resting on his knees, getting soaked.

He had a bad feeling in his guts.

What if any of them got hurt? What if Maxie got hurt, and he wasn’t there to help?

They’d all been through so much together. He should be with his friends. Maxie needed support. With nutters like Achilleus and Big Mick with them anything could happen.

And Jester, too. What did he have up his patchwork sleeve?

Freak got to his feet.

The sky flashed white with lightning. There was a long rippling crack and a deep boom. It sounded like World War bloody Three.

He started to walk.

He started to run.

Fight – fight – fight – fight – fight – fight – fight – fight…

It was on.

Achilleus ran at Carl, easily dodging a half-hearted swing from his machete. He ducked in and butted Carl in the guts with the end of his club. As Carl doubled over Achilleus brought his knee up and connected with his face. Now Carl was down. Achilleus carried on and soon two more of Carl’s friends were also laid out.

This gave Pod confidence and he and his gang charged forward with a shout. They grabbed a flimsy support holding up the roof of one of the shacks and pulled at it. It only took two or three heaves and the whole shack twisted and toppled sideways, spilling rainwater everywhere.

Pod’s team cheered.

‘Stop it!’ Maxie screamed but her voice was lost in the chaos.

The camp had come fully alive, and kids poured out of the shacks like angry wasps. All the palace squad were forced into the fight now and a messy brawl developed in the square. Fists and sticks were flying. The kids were kicking, gouging, wrestling. Not many of the squatters were armed and Achilleus and his fighters concentrated on those that were, trying to get their weapons off them without being hurt.

Freak was pounding along the walkway by the lake. He could hear the distant sounds of fighting.

‘Bollocks!’

He kept his eyes open for something he could use as a weapon. He had nothing with him.

‘Stupid!’

Some kid he didn’t recognize stepped out of the café as he passed.

‘Oi, what are you –’

Freak barged into him and sent him flying.

He raced on.

Blue was standing there, watching, not sure what to do.

‘We’ve got to stop this,’ said Maxie, shaking him.

‘How?’ said Blue.

‘Take charge,’ said Maxie. ‘Do something.’

Before they could say anything else, a group of squatters ran at them and Blue was forced to hack away at them with his pickaxe handle. A hail of shot and small rocks from Ollie’s squad rattled into the squatters’ legs and they fell back, hobbling and swearing.

Pod and his boys were moving from shack to shack, pushing them over. A fat girl ran out of one, shrieking.

‘What are you doing? What are you doing?’ she shouted. ‘There’s kids in there!’

Pod wavered, and the wail of a distressed baby came clearly from inside the building, which was rocking dangerously, ready to collapse. Pod’s team tried to steady it.

‘Idiots!’ Blue ran forward and ducked inside. He emerged a second later with a baby in his arms and almost chucked it at the girl. He was instantly back inside, and re-emerged with a second baby. He turned and went back in as the girl yelled that that was all of them.

He didn’t hear and the next moment the shack went down with a creaking, splintering sound. Pod and his team began to frantically pull aside sheets of plywood and corrugated iron, planks and boards and bits of plastic.

While everyone was distracted Maxie went to find Just John. He was stirring, trying to sit up, his lethal spear held limply in his hand. If she could take him out she might be able to stop this.

She had Arran’s club in her backpack. She’d been hoping not to use it, but she needed it now. She reached back for it and felt a terrific blow in her side. It took all her breath away and she felt like her ribs had been caved in. She staggered sideways, her vision blurred with the pain. Out of the corner of her eye she sensed a movement and turned to fend off another attack. The second blow caught her in the upper arm and she lost all feeling in it.

It was a squatter with a baseball bat. He wasn’t big but he had two others with him. One of them swung at her and she ducked, but it hurt like hell to move and she thought she might pass out. There was no way she was going to avoid the next swing.

Suddenly the three squatters went down like skittles.

It was Freak. He had barrelled into them full pelt. As they struggled to get up he grabbed a fallen bat and laid into them like a maniac.

Maxie was doubled over, fighting the pain and trying to draw some oxygen into her lungs.

Freak was making short work of his fight; one of the squatters ran off, another went down and didn’t look like he was getting up again. Freak was just about to finish off the last one when he yelled and sat down on the gravel. He looked confused. A bubble of saliva formed on his lips. There was an ugly patch of blood spreading across his back.

Just John. He’d stabbed up at Freak from the ground with his horrible three-bladed spear.

‘No.’ Maxie’s cry sounded like the snarl of a wild beast. All her pain was forgotten, she moved quickly, with an inhuman strength fuelled by rage and despair. Arran’s club swung through the air in a blur of silver-grey. It slammed into the shaft of John’s spear and knocked it out of his hands.

He looked up at her, surprised. She raised the club above her head.

‘Tell them to stop!’ she shouted. ‘Now!’

‘Make me, bitch.’

Maxie swiped the club across John’s face. It smashed into his nose and flattened it sideways. He howled. Maxie kicked him flat and picked up his spear.

‘Now tell them!’ she shouted, pressing the blades into the soft skin at his throat. ‘And don’t ever call me a bitch again, you ugly piece of shit.’

Just John mumbled something, blood streaming from his ruined nose into the gravel.

Maxie looked over and saw Carl, with a bunch of tough-looking squatters, grappling with Achilleus and his best fighters.

‘Everybody stop now!’ she screamed, finally making herself heard. Kids paused in what they were doing. Carl looked furious. All he could see was the blood pouring out of Just John and Maxie standing there holding his spear.

What had she done to him?

‘I’ll kill him!’ Maxie yelled. ‘I swear it! Now stop! Throw down your weapons.’

‘You better do as she says,’ said Achilleus.

‘Do it,’ Carl ordered, and the squatters gave up the fight.

45

Pod had finally got to Blue and was dragging him out of the ruins of the shack. His body was limp and lifeless. He’d been knocked cold by a falling beam. He was still alive, though. Pod ordered his team to make a stretcher out of bits of scrap.

Lewis watched them, his Afro flattened in the rain, his head looking two sizes smaller. ‘We’re going to need another one of those,’ he said.

Pod gave him a quizzical look.

‘Freak’s hurt.’

There was a sullen mood in the camp as the squatters surveyed the damage. Many of their shacks were completely trashed. Half of their tents trampled. They were getting thoroughly soaked. Younger kids were crying.

Achilleus and the fighters were standing in a ring round Just John, who still hadn’t got his senses fully back. He was lying on the gravel, bewildered and bedraggled.

Another group was clustered around Freak, who was sitting where he had dropped. Ollie was pressing a piece of torn cloth over the wound in his back. Maxie was holding him in her arms.

‘I don’t want to die,’ Freak whispered.

‘Then don’t,’ said Maxie, trying not to sob. She looked at Ollie, who had a look of utter hopelessness on his face.

‘I don’t feel good,’ said Freak. ‘I wish my mum was here. How she was. Before she got sick. I wish everything was how it was before. I never asked for any of this. It was just me and Deke. Spraying our tag on the walls.’

‘Freaky-Deaky,’ said Maxie.

‘Yeah… Is Deke there? Where’s Deke?’

‘He’s not here.’

‘Neither am I,’ said Freak and he closed his eyes.

‘The bleeding’s stopped,’ said Ollie.

‘He’s dead,’ said Maxie.

46

They wrapped Freak in a blanket and carried him gently on to one of Pod’s stretchers. They lifted Just John to his feet and tied his hands behind his back.

Maxie looked at the sky, and then walked over to where the squatters were standing watching. She looked for Carl, the pirate, who seemed to be John’s second in command.

‘Here’s the deal,’ she said, her voice cold and hard and clear. ‘We’re going back to the palace and we’re taking John with us. You’ve till this evening to decide what you want to do. But before it gets dark you send someone to the palace to talk to us and we’ll sort out what happens next.’

‘What do you mean what happens –’

‘Shut up, Carl. I’m speaking. Two things can happen. One. You turn up and make peace, and we figure out how we can all get along, and you take John home with you. Happy ending. Or two. No one shows up and we come back here with a bigger force, with all our weapons, and we don’t hold back. We wipe you out. Kill you if we have to. You understand? It’s your choice.’

47

‘On a Friday or Saturday night we’d get pizzas and watch DVDs.’

‘Me too… Only we used to get Indian takeaways.’

Sam and Rhiannon were sitting in the darkness of the carriage. The nightlights that Nick and Rachel kept burning twenty-four hours a day on the platform outside cast no light in here. All Sam could see was a vague yellow glow in the window, and Rhiannon’s head silhouetted against it. They were sitting opposite each other, keeping the fear away by talking of old familiar things.

‘I used to love chicken tikka,’ said Rhiannon.

‘Me too,’ said Sam. ‘But we didn’t get Indian food much. It was too spicy for my little sister, Ella.’

‘Don’t she like chicken tikka? Everyone likes chicken tikka.’

‘She likes it a bit. But she’s not very good with food. She’s fussy. All she really likes is margherita pizza.’

‘Boring,’ said Rhiannon.

‘I bet you wouldn’t say no to one now, though,’ said Sam.

‘Maybe we could ring for a delivery,’ said Rhiannon and she giggled.

‘Domino’s,’ said Sam. ‘What will you have?’

‘Four seasons.’

‘I don’t think I ever had one of them.’

‘We’ll get a DVD from the shop and have pizza,’ said Rhiannon. ‘What shall we watch?’

‘We used to watch TV series mostly,’ said Sam. ‘Sometimes three episodes in one night.’

‘Yeah,’ said Rhiannon. ‘I love box sets.’

‘Doctor Who,’ said Sam. ‘And Heroes. But it was a bit gory.’

‘We were halfway through Lost,’ said Rhiannon.

‘That was too scary for Ella,’ said Sam. ‘She liked Ugly Betty. She didn’t really understand it, though.’

‘Did you have a Wii? We had a Wii.’

‘No,’ said Sam. ‘I used to play games on my computer. World of Warcraft.’

‘My favourite was The Sims.’

‘Yes, I quite liked that. But I preferred World of Warcraft. I had a Tauran shaman called Dorkcrawler, I wanted to call him Darkcrawler but that name was already taken. I also had a Night Elf Warrior called Deathblooood, with four Os, and a gnome called Shortybottom. He was level sixty-two.’

‘Were you on Facebook or MySpace?’

‘No. My mum wouldn’t let me,’ said Sam. ‘I used to use MSN sometimes, but mostly I played World of Warcraft. Though I was getting a bit bored of it. My friend had GTA. I really wanted to get that, but Mum said no way.’

There was a muffled thud from somewhere down the train. Sam and Rhiannon fell silent. They were both asking themselves the same question.

What was that?

It was a sound they hadn’t heard before. It could mean that Nick and Rachel were up to something in another carriage. Cutting meat. Hurting something. Killing something. It could be other grown-ups attacking. It could be a brick falling from the roof.

Or it could be something to do with the nasty face at the window, and that posed as many questions as it answered.

Of all the things that had happened to him, the face freaked Sam out the most. The fact that it had no mouth.

Was it the mouthless creature that had made that sound? The truth was, it could be anything. But as the children lived a mind-rotting existence of boredom mixed with fear, their imaginations were working hard and fast.

There were no more clues. The thud was followed by a long period of quiet.

Sam and Rhiannon sat there in the darkness. Unmoving. For a brief moment they had been back at home, with their families, snuggled up on the sofa on a Saturday night.

Now they were back in this cold comfortless carriage.

They could hear the twins sleeping, their breathing shallow and feeble. Sam felt something touch his knee. He realized it was Rhiannon’s fingers. She was reaching out for him. He took hold of her hand and squeezed. She was trembling. After a long while, which seemed like hours, there was another thud, nearer this time. Once again it was followed by nothing but deep silence.

Sam could stand it no longer. He went over to the window. Looked out at the platform. There was nothing moving out there. The sound hadn’t come from the direction of Nick and Rachel’s sleeping carriage, and he hadn’t heard or seen anything of them, but it was possible that they could have gone down to one of the other carriages without being noticed.

At last there came another bang, closer still but muffled again. Then a light appeared at the window in the door leading to the next carriage. A small flickering flame. Sam screwed up his eyes, straining to see what it was. He couldn’t go any closer as his chain prevented him from moving far.

Now a sheet of cardboard appeared at the window. It had been ripped from a computer box and there was writing on it. Seven words scrawled in marker pen. Whoever was there adjusted the cardboard so that the flame lit it from the side.

Sam read:

kip qwite I am her to help

It took him a few seconds to realize that it was meant to say ‘Keep quiet I am here to help’. And no sooner had he worked it out than the cardboard disappeared and was replaced by a face.

Sam jumped.

It was the same face he had seen at the window.

Only it was different.

He smiled.

What an idiot he was.

When he had seen the face before it had been upside down. Hanging from the roof of the carriage.

The bald crown had been its chin. Sam had been looking for a mouth where the forehead was.

Now that it was the right way up he could see that it was a boy’s face. Black with dirt, eyes wide, small sharp teeth very white. There was a shock of dark, tangled hair sprouting from the top. The hair that Sam had thought was a beard when he had first seen it upside down outside the carriage.

The face grinned and then its owner raised a fist and gave a thumbs up. The flame snapped off. A few seconds later there was a familiar dull thud and the sound of falling glass, tinkling on to the metal floor.

‘If you hear the butchers, yell.’ It was the quietest whisper in the world.

Then silence.

Sam counted the seconds in his head. It was all he could think of to fill the time and ease the tension that was growing inside him like a balloon inflating.

He got up to sixty-five before the flame flickered back on. Startlingly close. Sam jerked back in fright. The boy had climbed through the window and come down the carriage without them hearing or seeing anything. The flame was lit just long enough for them to get a proper look at him. He was about Sam’s size, skinny and wiry looking, wearing shorts, trainers and a woman’s leather jacket with the sleeves cut off halfway. He had a leather satchel slung over one shoulder and he was carrying a cigarette lighter and a blanket.

He flicked the lighter and the flame died.

‘Not safe,’ he whispered. ‘If the butchers see the light they’ll come running, mark my words.’

‘Who are you?’ said Sam.

‘Stay quiet,’ the boy hissed. ‘You’re getting out of here pronto.’

Sam felt the boy’s hands groping along his arms to the handcuffs.

‘Handy-cuffs,’ he breathed in Sam’s ear. ‘Soon have these bracelets off. No more than a jiffy.’

There was rattling and scraping as the boy poked around in the lock with some kind of tool. Then, finally, a snap and rattle and the cuffs came loose.

Sam now felt the boy slip the lighter into his hands.

‘Light me, skipper,’ he said. ‘The Kid needs to see his surroundings.’

Sam rolled the flint on the lighter and the flame jumped and sparked. The boy was already at the end of the carriage, holding the blanket across the whole width.

‘There’s sticky-tape on my utility bat-belt,’ he said, nodding downwards.

Sam saw a roll of strong black tape hanging from a piece of string at the boy’s waist. He gave the lighter to Rhiannon and in a minute had managed to roughly tape the blanket up. Now if Nick and Rachel happened to look along the length of the train from inside their carriage, the blanket would block some of the light.

The boy grinned at Sam.

‘Nice work,’ he said and pushed Sam against the blanket. ‘Press your ear against blankie. Tell me if you hear anything moving, anything speaking, squeaking or meandering, even a mouse’s fart, so to speak. Get it? Got it? Good.’

The kid scuttled over to Rhiannon and inspected her wrists. Instead of handcuffs she was secured with plastic bindings.

‘Naughty,’ he said. ‘I’m going to need to cut.’ His hand darted into his pocket and came out with a little folding knife with a wide blade. He pulled it open with his teeth and smiled at Sam.

‘This should do the trick, eh what, Jeeves?’ he said. ‘It’s a wicked little snickersnee. Not half.’

He took the lighter from Rhiannon, gave it back to Sam and set to work. The blade was razor sharp and it sliced through the plastic in no time flat. As soon as Rhiannon’s hands came apart he blew out the flame.

‘Lights out, boys and girls.’

He drew Rhiannon and Sam into a huddle.

‘We have to go careful and quiet as spies. Can’t risk too much light. It’s like this. If I’d tried to get on the train from the platter-form those beastly butchers would have spotted me, no sweat. So I’ve gone right to the end and I’ve bonked and bashed my way all the way down the carriages, cos Mr and Mrs Lovely have fixed all the doors and windows shut. So we go back and out that same way. Once we get to the end, we drop down on to the tracks and slither back along under-the-neath of the train to where we can get up on to the platter-form and thence to the stairway to heaven. It’s the best way. Safe as milk. You follow?’

‘I’m not sure I can walk,’ said Rhiannon.

‘You can walk. When they have to your legs will do as you say. Just speak to them firm.’

‘I can’t.’

‘No such word as can’t. No such word as babagoozle neither!’

Rhiannon laughed, trying to stifle the sound.

‘You talk funny,’ she said.

‘That’s just the way it is,’ said the boy. ‘Now let’s get these two snoozing muckers out of here. Match me, Sidney!’

Sam worked out what he meant and quickly lit the flame again.

The boy hopped over to the two sleeping twins, unlocked them and shook them awake. They were groggy and feeble, with no idea what was going on.

‘This is going to be tricky, captain,’ the boy whispered. ‘These ones are weak as kitties.’ He glanced up at Sam. ‘You strong enough to help carry ’em, squirt?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Sam. ‘I’ll try. I don’t feel too good myself.’

‘You don’t look it, skipper.’

Jason looked up at the boy, fear pulling at his face.

‘Who are you?’

‘I’m the Miracle Kid,’ said the boy. ‘The lizard boy, something of a worm and something of a cat. King of the tunnels. I’ll have you out of here in a thrice, I do declare.’

Jason opened his mouth wide to say something and The Kid put a finger to his lips and shushed him. He winked.

‘I’m your ticket outta here, buster-balloon. Hoick your bones up and let’s get shifted.’

‘I’m not leaving,’ said Jason.

‘Are you having a laugh?’

‘I can’t leave here,’ said Jason anxiously. ‘Where will I go? Nick and Rachel are looking after me until I’m well.’

The Kid looked round at Sam and Rhiannon. ‘He really believe that?’

Sam shrugged. ‘We’re all confused,’ he said.

‘I’ve seen the rest of this train, my old china,’ said The Kid. ‘I’ve seen what they’re up to. Had my peepers on them for some long time. I found my way down here looking for food, skulking like a blind mouse, running up their clocks, so to speak. You get me?’

‘No, not really,’ said Sam.

‘Half of what I say is rubbish,’ said The Kid. ‘But listen to this bit. I could smell food. You get me? Mm-hmm – finger-licking good. But I don’t want to eat what those two ghouls are serving up. Wish upon a star, squire, that you are gone from here soonish, before they get their teeth into you. Trust me, young man, you do not want to stay for dinner.’

‘I’m not leaving,’ said Jason. ‘I don’t know you. Nick and Rachel are looking after me. I can’t walk. I’m sick.’

The Kid hefted Jason on to his shoulder and tried to walk; he went about five paces before he stumbled and Sam just caught them as they fell. The commotion woke up Claire, the other twin. She was even more feeble than her brother, and spent most of her time sleeping.

‘What’s going on?’ she said.

‘It’s all right,’ said Rhiannon. ‘We’re getting out of here.’

‘I don’t want to go,’ Claire whimpered. ‘I’m tired.’

‘She can’t stand up,’ said Jason. ‘Leave us alone.’

The Kid looked at Sam. ‘It’s beyond me,’ he said. ‘I’m quick and slick and well nifty, but I ain’t strong enough to lug no dead weights.’

‘We’ll never do it,’ said Sam. ‘We won’t get them through the windows.’

‘We’ll have to leave them,’ said Rhiannon, struggling to her feet. ‘We don’t have a choice.’

The Kid sat down cross-legged on the floor and looked glum.

‘Had me heart set on it,’ he said. ‘Was gonna get you all out of here. Was gonna be a hero for the first time.’

‘You are a hero,’ said Sam. ‘But you’re not Hercules. You can’t do the impossible.’

‘You want to leave them, too?’

‘If they don’t want to come, we can’t force them.’

The Kid jumped up and grabbed Sam. ‘Persuade them, small fry, the gift of the gab, the wagging tongue. Only we can’t waste too long here. The more noise, the more light, the more chance that the butchers will stir from their slumber and come sniffling after us.’

Sam knelt by the twins, who were sitting huddled together with wide, scared faces.

‘We’re used to it here,’ said Jason. ‘It’s safe from strangers. We get food. We don’t have to worry about anything.’

‘But they’re going to kill you,’ said Sam.

‘You don’t know that.’

‘What happened to Mark?’ said Rhiannon. ‘And that other girl?’

‘They got well,’ said Claire. ‘Nick helped them to go up into the light. When we’re well, when we’re strong, they’ll help us, too.’

‘You’re idiots,’ hissed Rhiannon, and Claire began to cry.

‘Just keep it quiet,’ Rhiannon whispered, and then moaned in pain as she tried to walk, biting her lip to stop from crying out.

‘My legs are so stiff,’ she said. ‘Unstiff them,’ said The Kid. ‘We’ve a bare deal of climbing to get done before we’re home free.’

‘OK. I’ll try.’

‘So,’ said The Kid. ‘Do we leave them or take them with?’

‘Let’s go,’ said Sam.

‘We’re gone.’