Текст книги "The Enemy"

Автор книги: Charlie Higson

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

3

The glass doors of the swimming pool were cracked and so covered with dust on the inside that it was impossible to see anything through them. Deke hefted his sledgehammer and took a swing, aiming for a spot next to the handles. The glass exploded with a bang and fell out of the frame in sparkling nuggets.

‘Cool,’ said Freak.

‘Yes it is,’ said Deke, who loved destroying things. In the early days, just after the disaster had happened, and before he understood the dangers, Deke had wandered the streets in delight – breaking, burning, smashing – hardly able to believe that there was nobody around to stop him and that he could do whatever he wanted.

That crazy, joyous freedom had been cut short when he’d discovered that not all the adults had died. And those who had survived would treat you far worse than any parent, teacher or policeman if they ever caught you. A parent might have grounded you, a teacher might have kept you in after school and the police might have arrested you, but none of them would have tried to eat you, like the grown-ups who wandered the streets these days.

He still got a kick out of destroying things, though, when he got the chance, which was why he often volunteered to join a scavenging party.

He stood back from the shattered door to let Achilleus see inside.

Achilleus leant in and looked around.

‘We’ll need the torches.’

They all carried hand-powered LED dynamo torches that didn’t need batteries. They quickly fired them up by pumping the triggers that spun the flywheels inside. After thirty seconds the torches were charged enough to give a good three minutes of light.

They stepped into the entrance lobby and shone their beams across the dirty floor and walls. Ahead of them was the reception desk. To the right, past a turnstile and low barrier was a small seating area that opened out on to the pool. A wide passage led the other way to the changing rooms.

The reception desk was covered with cobwebs and the faded, peeling posters on the walls were from a different world. They showed smiling, happy children and talked of health and fitness and community activities. There were a few animal trails in the dust and debris on the floor, but no sign of any recent human activity.

‘Vending machines used to be through there,’ said Freak, nodding towards the fixed tables and chairs in the seating area.

‘We’ll take a quick look,’ said Arran, and, without having to be told, Achilleus led the way. He climbed over the turnstile and dropped into a crouch on the other side, spear at the ready.

‘All clear.’

One by one the others followed, Ollie bringing up the rear, torch in one hand, slingshot in the other.

They walked cautiously forward. As they moved closer to the pool they noticed a smell. The choking, rotten stink of stagnant water.

‘Aw, who’s farted?’ said Deke, holding his nose. Freak sniggered, but nobody else laughed. The pair of them liked to joke around to keep the fear away, but the others had their own ways of dealing with their nerves.

Achilleus was tensed and alert, ready for action, almost willing a grown-up to jump out at him. Arran tried to stand tall and appear unafraid, imagining he was casting a protective shield around his little group. Ollie kept glancing back over his shoulder. He was so used to watching their rear that he almost found it easier walking backwards.

‘That is an evil smell,’ said Freak.

‘Keep it down,’ said Achilleus.

‘Come off it, Akkie,’ said Deke. ‘If there was anyone here I think they just might have heard that bloody big bang as I took out the door.’

‘Shut up so’s we can listen, Deke.’

‘OK, OK.’

They shone their torches around the seating area where the vending machines had once stood.

Nothing. Empty.

‘They’re gone,’ said Arran.

‘What a surprise,’ said Achilleus.

‘Told you this was a waste of time,’ said Ollie. ‘Now can we go?’

Arran carried on towards the pool. A dim light was glowing green through the windows around the high ceiling. The air felt hot and moist. He used to come here nearly every week in the summer. There was a water-slide that snaked out of the building and back again. It had always been noisy here, busy with kids. There had been a wave machine and all sorts of fountains, waterfalls and jets. Now it was absolutely quiet and still and stank like a sewer. Stringy weeds hung from the water-slide that stood on rusting supports.

Arran was aware of his heart thumping against his ribs. He didn’t like being here.

‘We should take a proper look round,’ said Freak, joining him by the poolside and shining his torch around the cavernous space.

There was still water in the pool, but it was a soupy greenish-brown colour. Clumps of algae and weed floated on the surface and odd pieces of furniture had been dumped in it. Arran could see chairs and tables, a filing cabinet and what looked like a running machine, probably from the gym upstairs.

More algae and mould made its way up the walls, covering the windows – this was what was turning the light that weird ghostly green.

The others came through.

‘We should go,’ said Ollie, nervously glancing back towards the entrance.

‘Scared, are you?’ said Deke.

‘Course I’m scared,’ said Ollie simply. ‘I’m always scared when we go somewhere we’ve not been before. It’s good to be scared. Keeps you alive.’

‘Check this out,’ Freak hissed, interrupting them. He was shining his torch across the pool.

A vending machine stood there, half submerged in the water, but they could see that it was still stocked with chocolate bars and sweets and crisps.

‘We’ve struck the jackpot,’ Deke whispered.

They moved closer to the water’s edge, marvelling at the treasure trove in the stagnant pool. The side of the pool sloped gradually into the water, giving the effect of a beach. The smell was appalling, and the floor was slippery beneath their feet.

‘What’s it doing in the water?’ said Achilleus.

‘Who cares?’ Freak and Deke said in unison.

Arran shone his torch on to a sign; it was still just about readable beneath the fungal growth on its surface.

NO RUNNING. NO DIVING.

‘See that?’ he said. ‘No diving.’

The others sniggered. The thought of diving into the dark, stinking water was disgusting, but nevertheless somebody was going to have to wade in if they wanted to get to the vending machine.

‘I don’t like it,’ said Ollie. ‘It’s not right.’

Once again he glanced back towards the entrance, making sure that their way out was clear.

‘There’s nothing here, man,’ said Deke. ‘No one. The place is deserted. Look at all that crap in the water. The vending machine must have been dumped there ages ago, and forgotten about.’

‘Come on,’ said Ollie. ‘I’m going.’

He jumped as Freak suddenly shouted, his voice startlingly loud.

‘HELLO? ANYBODY HOME?’

The sound echoed off the hard walls.

‘See? Nothing.’

‘You’re an idiot,’ said Achilleus.

‘Yeah? And who are you then – Brainiac, the world’s brainiest kid?’

‘Don’t start arguing,’ said Arran wearily.

‘Look,’ said Deke. ‘We’ve been here long enough, if anything was going to happen it would’ve happened by now. This place is dead, like the rest of London, like the rest of the world for all we know. Dead.’

‘We’re not dead,’ said Arran, ‘and I want to keep it that way.’

‘Then let’s get the gear from the machine,’ said Deke. ‘Food, yeah? To eat? You remember food, don’t you?’

‘I’m not sure about this.’

‘Oh for God’s sake, this is a waste of time.’ Freak walked to the water’s edge, holding his nose. Deke groaned as he watched his friend wade in. Soon the slime was up to Freak’s knees, then his thighs. He carried on until he had reached the machine. Turned to wave, then peered inside.

‘Sick!’ he said, grinning. ‘You should see this.’

‘Freak! No!’ Deke screamed.

The whole surface of the water around Freak had come alive as if some huge beast was rising from the depths.

Deke splashed into the pool, yelling.

‘Idiot,’ said Achilleus.

There were shapes emerging everywhere now, seemingly made from the same green slime as the water itself. They pushed up out of the bubbling pool.

People. Men and women. Blanket weed hanging off them and tangled between their outstretched fingers like webs.

‘GROWN-UPS!’ Arran shouted.

Ollie grabbed a steel ball, slipped it into the pouch of his slingshot and pulled back the elastic…

There were too many of them. In his panic he wasn’t sure where to aim.

Freak was swinging his axe around wildly at the weed-covered grown-ups nearest to him. He got one in the forearm, shattering it, and on his return swing took another in the side of the head, but their numbers quickly overwhelmed him, and, as the grown-ups closed in on him, there was no longer room to use his weapon effectively. On his next strike the axe head sunk deep into a big father’s ribs and stuck there. The father twisted and writhed, churning the water, and tearing the axe from Freak’s grasp. Freak was defenceless. Wet, slimy hands closed around his neck. He struggled to throw them off, swearing at the grown-ups.

Ollie couldn’t risk a shot now – he might hit Freak, so instead he aimed at one of the grown-ups on the edge of the attacking group. A mother. He loosed a shot and struck her in the temple. She toppled over and was swallowed by the water. Then a noise made Ollie turn – more grown-ups had moved into the seating area to block their exit.

‘We’re surrounded,’ he shouted, swinging his slingshot round towards them.

Arran could do nothing to help. Grown-ups were swarming to the edge of the pool and slithering on to the tiles. He gripped his pickaxe handle and lashed out at them two-handed. A fat little father with useless legs hobbled out in a crouch, like some horrible, ungainly frog. Arran caught him under his chin with an upper-cut and he somersaulted backwards into the water.

Deke had been trying to get to his friend, but the water was thick with wallowing grown-ups. He was forcing his way onwards, using the tip of the sledgehammer’s handle as a butt. Driving it into anybody that got too close.

Achilleus was waiting on the edge. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight effectively in the water. He darted backwards and forwards, picking off stray grown-ups and watching Deke’s progress.

‘Go on!’ he urged him.

It looked like Deke was going to make it to Freak, but just before he got there three big grown-ups pulled Freak over and he sank beneath the surface.

‘Hold on, Freak!’

Deke powered the last few metres and dived in after his friend.

‘Idiot,’ Achilleus said again. There was nothing for it. He was going to have to go and help. He gave a war-cry and surged in, high-stepping, spear flashing in quick hard thrusts, teeth bared.

The grown-ups seemed to sense that he was dangerous and fell back. There was no sign of Freak and Deke, though.

Over by the seating area Ollie was ducked down on to one knee to steady his aim and was launching a barrage of shots towards the grown-ups blocking their way out. He couldn’t take his eyes off them for even a split second, so he had no idea what was going on behind him. He prayed that the others would join him soon, because he couldn’t keep the grown-ups at bay forever.

‘Help me, someone!’

Arran looked over and saw what was happening.

‘Achilleus,’ he shouted. ‘You get Freak and Deke. I need to help Ollie.’

He had no idea if Achilleus had heard him, and he couldn’t wait to make sure. A group of grown-ups were rushing Ollie, who couldn’t reload fast enough to hold them back. Arran raced over and ploughed in, his club flying. The wood cracked against a father’s skull. He howled and toppled sideways. Arran was finding it difficult to fight with the dog slung across his shoulders, but he swung again, this time aiming for a grown-up’s knee. There was a snap of breaking bone and the grown-up was out of action.

‘Got to push them back,’ he yelled and surged forward, driving the grown-ups over the seats and tables.

Achilleus reached the vending machine. Oblivious to the stink and the slime. He plunged a hand under the water roughly where he had last seen Deke. He grabbed hold of sodden material and tugged hard. It was a grown-up. He stuck his spear into it, twisted and pulled it out. The next moment the water boiled and erupted as Deke broke the surface, bringing Freak up with him. Freak looked confused and limp.

‘Got him,’ Deke spluttered. His face was glowing white in the gloom so that it looked almost luminous.

‘Come on,’ said Achilleus, ‘let’s go.’

But the attack wasn’t over. An enraged father bundled into them, knocking Deke hard into the vending machine and smashing the glass. Deke grunted, winded.

Achilleus dealt swiftly with the father, striking him in the mouth, and with that the remaining grown-ups gave up. They fell back as Achilleus and the other two waded towards the edge. Achilleus started taunting them, cursing and swearing and calling them all the names he could think of, daring them to attack.

‘Come on, you lazy sods! Attack me, you cowards, come on!’

But the grown-ups were melting away, slipping back under the murky surface of the pool. Achilleus felt a surge of relief; his bravado had been all show. He was exhausted, Freak and Deke had both lost their weapons, and if the grown-ups did mount a full-scale attack the boys would stand little chance. He looked back. The other two were still stumbling through the water. Deke looked like he was on his last legs. Achilleus went to him, grabbed hold of Freak round the waist and pulled the two of them along until, spluttering and slipping and stumbling, they staggered to the poolside.

‘What kept you?’ said Arran as they joined him and Ollie. The two of them had secured the seating area.

‘I had to rescue the Chuckle Brothers,’ said Achilleus.

‘We couldn’t leave without having a swim,’ said Deke, his voice hoarse and cracked. He coughed and doubled up in pain.

‘Is he all right?’ Arran asked Achilleus.

‘Think so. Come on, what’s the hold-up? Let’s get out of here.’

‘Easier said than done.’ Ollie loosed a shot at a black silhouette in the reception. ‘They’re blocking the exit.’

Achilleus swore. ‘I’ve never seen anything like this before. These are some clever bastards. They set a trap for us.’

‘These guys are getting scary,’ said Ollie.

‘We’ll get our breath back and take them,’ said Achilleus. ‘They don’t scare me.’

Deke was coughing again and shivering. He moaned. He looked whiter than ever. Freak seemed to be coming out of his daze, though. He shook his head and rubbed his temple with the heel of one hand.

‘My axe?’ he said.

‘It’s gone, Superman,’ said Achilleus. ‘Forget it. We’ll find you another one. For now we’ve just to get clear of this dump. You reckon you can walk now?’

‘I’m fine,’ said Freak.

‘Deke don’t look so hot.’

Freak turned to his friend.

‘Thanks for getting me out of that, bro,’ he said.

Deke nodded.

‘No probs.’ But his breathing was fast and shallow and there was a bubble of blood on his lips.

‘You hurt?’

Deke forced a feeble grin. ‘I think I’m poisoned.’

‘You was under the water for a long time, man, a long time,’ said Achilleus.

‘I feel sick.’ Deke swayed to one side and Freak caught him.

‘You’re bleeding,’ said Freak, putting a hand to Deke’s side. His clothes were stained black by blood. Achilleus lifted his arm; a large shard of jagged glass was sticking out of his side.

‘Oh no,’ said Freak.

‘I’m all right,’ said Deke. ‘It’s nothing.’ But then he coughed again and there was blood in his spit.

‘It’s in your lung, man,’ said Achilleus. ‘The glass.’

Deke’s eyes were rolling up in his head.

‘Hold on, bro,’ said Freak.

‘I think I’m going to…’

‘Don’t faint, bro,’ Freak shouted and shook his friend as he fell into unconsciousness. ‘Arran! We got to get him out of here.’

Almost as Freak spoke the grown-ups attacked again. At least ten of them blundered up from the pool.

Arran was filled with a blind rage. He couldn’t stand it that another kid was wounded. They didn’t have the drugs to deal with it, and the water in the pool must have been swarming with filth and germs. With a great roar he lashed out to right and left, smashing his club into the grown-ups, shattering bones, breaking noses, loosening teeth, closing eyes. He was hardly aware of what was going on around him, only that Achilleus was at his back, cold-bloodedly dealing with the grown-ups in his own way.

When a mother came at Arran, long hair flying, he gripped her by the throat and squeezed. Her head thrashed from side to side, her scabby hands flapped at him. Her hair whipped out of her face so that for a moment he saw her clearly.

Her nose was half rotted away by disease. There were boils and sores covering every inch of skin. Her lips were pulled back from broken teeth showing black shrunken gums.

Everything about her was disgusting, inhuman, degraded – apart from her eyes. Her eyes were beautiful.

Arran looked into them and for a moment he saw a flash of intelligence.

He froze. Time seemed to stop. He had the sudden vivid notion that this was all a stupid dream. He had imagined the whole thing: the collapse of society, the fear and confusion, the months spent hiding out in Waitrose. It wasn’t possible, after all. It wasn’t possible that the world had changed so much. So quickly. It wasn’t possible that he had become a savage. A killer.

The mother tried to speak, her lips formed in a ghastly pucker and a single syllable came out.

‘Mwuhh…’

Tears came into Arran’s eyes. He couldn’t do it any more.

He loosened his grip.

The mother wriggled free and sunk her teeth into his neck. Then Achilleus must have stabbed her, because a bright spray of blood hosed out from a wound in her chest. The next moment she was gone and Ollie was pulling him towards the turnstiles.

‘Move it, Arran!’ he shouted and Arran slithered over the turnstiles in a daze.

‘Where’s Freak?’

Freak had been fending off the grown-ups with his bare fists, punching, kicking, butting, trying to protect Deke. But he was losing the fight. The grown-ups had sensed that Deke was wounded. They had given up trying to block the exit and were concentrating their efforts on getting at him. Two of them had taken hold of his legs and Freak was engaged in a ghastly tug of war.

‘Leave him!’ Ollie screamed.

‘I can’t!’

A grown-up lurched into Freak from the side, knocking Deke out of his hands.

‘Deke!’

The name stuck in Freak’s throat as he watched Deke being dragged quickly away, face down on the hard tiles, leaving a long, bloody smear. He chased after them, sobbing and screaming insults, but it was no good. There was nothing he could do.

The grown-ups pulled Deke under the water and he was gone. The last Freak ever saw of his friend – the boy he had grown up with, shared six years of school with, played football with, watched telly with, laughed with, argued with – the last he ever saw, was his bright yellow hair sliding into the sludge.

‘Get out of there, now!’ shouted Achilleus. ‘I’m not coming back for you this time.’

No…

Freak was going to go after his friend. He knew it would be suicide but he hated to leave poor Deke at the mercy of the grown-ups.

There was a reason these boys were still alive, though. Something made them stronger than the other kids, the ones who had died in the early days, who had simply lain down and given up, unable to cope with the terrible things that were happening in the world. These boys were survivors. The will to live was stronger than any other feelings.

Freak turned on his heels and sprinted out of there.

4

Callum was in the crow’s-nest. He loved it up on the roof; it was his favourite place. He couldn’t wait for it to be warm enough to sleep out here. You could see the whole of Holloway spread out beneath you. Like Google Earth. The kids had built the crow’s-nest around the dome that stuck up from one corner of Waitrose. They had used scaffolding poles and planks and ropes and any useful bits and pieces they could find. A ladder at the back led to the sloping roof of the supermarket. From there you could climb down across the tiles to a small tower they had constructed at the edge of the courtyard. The courtyard was a rooftop terrace in the centre of the building, enclosed on four sides but open to the sky.

The look-outs could communicate with other kids in the courtyard through a speaking tube. More speaking tubes linked the courtyard with other parts of the supermarket. The system was based on what they used to use on ships to communicate between the bridge and the engine room. It wasn’t much more than a series of long metal pipes that had been slotted and bent through the ventilation and cabling ducts of the building, but it was surprisingly effective.

Callum felt safe up here. He and Josh were the main look-outs and could normally tell if there were any grown-ups around. The only blind spot was the car park at the rear of the building from where Small Sam had been snatched. Those kids should never have been out there without a guard. Callum was hacked off that he had missed the grownups sneaking through the gardens, and since the attack he had spotted loads more of them about. He kept a pile of ammo on a specially built ledge – rocks and stones to use as missiles, mainly – and he was itching to have a go at any grown-ups stupid enough to get too close.

He was keeping a look-out for Arran’s scav party. They needed Arran back. Everyone was on edge since Small Sam had been taken. Arran would calm everyone down, sort things out. Stop the little ones from being scared.

Callum never went scavenging. He had convinced the others that he was more use to them on the roof. In fact he hadn’t been out of Waitrose, except to come up here, for nearly a year. There was an invisible rope attaching him to it. In his mind he wandered the streets below, like a character moving around a game, but in real life he never wanted to go out there again. Waitrose was safe. He had everything he needed here. He was happy. Almost happier than he had been before the disaster.

The one thing he longed for, though, was peace and quiet. To be alone, really alone. That would be bliss. To just sit there, in all the space of the shop, without it being full of other kids. Sitting here in the crow’s-nest was as good as it got.

He put his binoculars to his eyes and scanned the Holloway Road.

‘Come on, Arran, we need you…’