Текст книги "The Enemy"

Автор книги: Charlie Higson

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

5

They were limping along. Ollie and Achilleus walking ahead of Arran and Freak, who were both silent, lost in private thoughts. Ollie knew well enough not to push it. If the other two didn’t want to talk about what had gone down then he wasn’t going to try to make them. Freak had lost his best friend and Arran had been badly bitten. Ollie hadn’t expected him to take it so badly, though. Arran was tough. Hated showing any weakness in front of anyone else. Something had happened to him back at the pool. He had the look of someone who had stared at something nasty. Stared for too long.

Arran’s skin had been punctured. There would be a big danger of infection. The grown-ups were filthy and riddled with germs and disease. Luckily Arran hadn’t been in the water, but the mother who had attacked him had looked pretty skanky.

Why had Arran frozen like that? All the fight just went out of him. One minute he was cracking skulls with his club and the next he was just standing there, in a dream. Had he lost his nerve?

Arran had to know that nobody would blame him for what had happened to Deke. It had been Freak’s stupid idea to go into the pool. How could they have prepared for the ambush? It wasn’t like grown-ups – usually they were stupid and slow and confused. Little different from the pack of dogs the gang had dealt with earlier. This bunch had acted together. Sorted. A team.

How many of the adults had they killed? he wondered. He knew for sure he had hit seven of them, but it didn’t mean that each shot was a killing shot. When they’d bundled out through the reception area he’d seen two of his targets lying still on the floor. He must have loosed off thirty pellets, though, maybe more. It had been too dangerous to try to collect them afterwards. He had a stack back at the camp, but it was a lot to lose in one day. At this rate it would be sooner rather than later that he ran out altogether. He’d have to find some more, or start collecting pebbles.

Damn. He loved those heavy steel ball-bearings.

His ankle was sore; he had landed badly leaping over the turnstiles. They made a right sorry bunch. Freak had been pretty badly mauled. He was covered with filth and there was blood on him, but as far as it was possible to tell, it didn’t look like his own blood. At least Achilleus looked unharmed. He swore that boy had iron underpants.

Achilleus wasn’t particularly a friend of Ollie’s. He was always having a go at him for being too posh, too clever, too quiet. But Ollie didn’t let it get to him. The two of them had a sort of grudging respect for each other. When it came down to it, Ollie valued Achilleus’ fighting skills, and Achilleus valued Ollie’s brains. They usually kept out of each other’s way and Ollie wasn’t used to being up front. It felt weird.

He remembered driving in the family car. Him and his mum and dad and three brothers. Ollie had always sat in the back, staring out of the side window, trying to keep out of their arguments and fights. He remembered the few occasions when it had been just him and his dad and he’d got to ride up front in the passenger seat. How different it had felt, like they were equals. And how nice it had been to get his dad all to himself. His dad had been like Ollie. Quiet, distant, always thinking about something.

They were all dead now. All five of them.

His dad had been the first to go. One of the very first to die when the illness struck. He had even been on the news; the headline had said something like ‘Another Death From Mystery Illness Sweeping Europe’. Then there had been more and more deaths, and not just in Europe – all round the world. They’d stopped mentioning individuals; it had been whole streets, then whole towns. It had all happened so fast people had been stunned, and hadn’t really had time to panic. The whole world had sort of gone into shock. His mother had been frantic after Dad died. She packed the house up, ready to try to escape to the countryside and stay with Auntie Susan. But she fell ill before they could get away. Then it was just Ollie and his brothers. They tried to leave London by themselves. His oldest brother, Dan, got sick next. He’d been seventeen. Then Will, fifteen.

His younger brother, Luke, hadn’t been old enough to get sick. He’d been killed in a riot up near Finsbury Park. That must have been over a year ago. It felt more like a century. By then Ollie had had no more tears left to cry, the catastrophe had been so immense, so overwhelming, that he had just pushed it out of his mind and concentrated on trying to stay alive. He owed it to his family, as the last one left, not to die.

‘We should have never gone into there in the first place,’ said Achilleus. ‘Freak’s an idiot.’

‘Leave it,’ said Ollie. ‘We couldn’t have known.’

‘All for a bloody vending machine,’ said Achilleus. ‘Sweets and chocolates! We’re not babies.’

‘Would have been nice, though,’ said Ollie. ‘I could really do with a Mars bar right now, and a can of Coke.’

‘Yeah.’ Achilleus smiled. ‘You know what I used to really like? Jaffa Cakes. I could eat a whole pack in one go. But all we’ve got to look forward to when we get back is roast dog.’

‘Better than nothing,’ said Ollie. ‘We haven’t had meat in ages.’

‘Hold up…’

Achilleus raised a hand and they all stopped. They had come to the part of Holloway Road where they had had the fight with the dogs. A group of people was up ahead, clustered round the carcass of the dead Alsatian.

‘Can you make out who it is?’ said Achilleus.

Ollie had the keenest eyesight of all of them. He shaded his eyes and squinted.

‘They’re kids,’ he said.

‘Ours?’

‘Nah. Morrisons.’

When everything had fallen apart, one group of local kids had ended up taking shelter in Waitrose, and another group had taken up Morrisons, the cheaper supermarket in the nearby Nag’s Head shopping centre. Kids had mostly ended up in the place where their mums and dads had gone shopping. Not all, though. Ollie guessed Achilleus was more of a Morrisons kid.

In the struggle to survive, where every scrap of food was fought over, the two groups of kids led totally separate lives. There was even the occasional skirmish in the street.

Achilleus turned to Arran.

‘What do we do? There’s more of them than us. Should we go round the back way?’

Arran looked at the other gang, then at his feet, then up at the sky.

‘I don’t know,’ he said eventually.

‘I’m knackered,’ said Achilleus. ‘I can’t face another fight and I can’t face going the long way round, looking out for grown-ups every step of the way.’

Arran sighed, pushed past him and carried on walking.

‘If they want to have a go at us, let them,’ he said. ‘I don’t care any more.’

Achilleus watched him go, then shared a look with Ollie.

‘Come on.’

They made sure that Freak was still with them and hurried to catch up with Arran.

The Morrisons crew soon spotted them, and they took up a defensive stance in the middle of the road.

Arran carried on walking towards them. He wasn’t going to stop. Achilleus ran past him.

‘We don’t want no trouble,’ he called out to the other gang. ‘We’ve had enough for one day. We just want to get back. We ain’t got nothing you want.’

The Morrisons crew stood their ground, sullenly watching them as they approached. They were armed with an assortment of knives, sticks and spears. Ollie spotted their leader, Blue, a muscly black kid with close-cropped hair. Ollie smiled at him, being as open as he could, showing that they meant no harm. A couple of the Morrisons crew nodded at them as they arrived, showing no expression. Blue noticed the dog, still strung across Arran’s back.

He looked from the dead Staff down to the Alsatian.

‘You do this?’

‘Earlier.’

Arran snapped out of his weird mood. He knew he had to put on a brave face. It was important not to show any weakness. They had nothing in their camp the Morrisons crew could want, but there was always a danger that they might lose some good fighters if they thought they’d have a better life in the rival supermarket.

‘You look pretty messed up, man,’ said Blue, staring at Arran and then at Freak. ‘Was it the dogs?’

‘No,’ said Arran. ‘Grown-ups. At the pool. Don’t go up that way.’

‘Never do,’ said a big, slightly stooped kid who looked almost like a grown-up. He was Mick, the Morrisons equivalent of Achilleus. Their top fighter.

‘There’s been a lot of attacks lately,’ said Blue.

‘Too right,’ said Arran. ‘They’re getting desperate.’

Blue looked at him.

‘There’s been some trouble up at Waitrose,’ he said.

Ollie’s heart caught in his chest. His stomach flooded with acid. Now what?

‘What sort of trouble?’ said Arran.

‘Some sort of an attack. There’s been grown-ups hanging around all day.’

‘Oh crap,’ said Arran and he ran off down the road, the rest of his group struggling to keep up.

The Morrisons crew had been unusually friendly and helpful, Ollie thought. Which probably meant that they were getting scared. When it came down to it, the kids had to stick together.

The grown-ups were the real enemy.

6

‘They’re back!’ Josh ran up to Maxie.

Maxie’s heart thumped against her ribs. She had been desperate for Arran to get back, but she was also terrified of what he would think. He had left her in charge and she had mucked up.

She didn’t want to show how she was feeling in front of everybody. She couldn’t lose it twice in one day.

‘Get the gates open,’ she said, pleased that her voice sounded strong and clear. ‘Who’s on look-out now?’

‘Callum,’ said Josh.

‘I didn’t really need to ask, did I?’

‘He practically lives up there.’

‘Get someone to ring the bell,’ said Maxie.

‘I’ll do it.’ Josh hurried off. In a moment Maxie heard the clang of the bell that told everyone to get ready to open the doors.

Maxie went over to the speaking tube. She banged on it to alert Callum then called up it.

‘Callum?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Can you still see Arran and the scavs?’

‘They’re nearly here.’

‘Is it safe to open the gates?’

‘Yeah.’

There was a pause and then a shrill whistle.

All clear.

Soon afterwards there came the sound of the steel shutter being cranked up. The shutter was the old security gate that blocked off the main entrance to the store. It was operated by turning a big wheel set into the wall.

Maxie stood there, listening but not daring to look. Trying to slow her breathing and take control of herself. Once the shutter was up the gate crew could move out into the mall and open the barricade.

The barricade was a huge fortified gate that opened on to the street. It had been built by Bernie and Ben in the early days. Bernie and Ben were two emos who looked identical, even though Bernie was a girl. They had straight black hair and wore black combat trousers, black T-shirts and black sweatshirts. Both of them were into engineering and used to watch programmes like Scrap Heap Challenge on the TV. They had built loads of modifications around the shop, including the speaking tubes. They were also in charge of opening and closing the barricade.

In a moment there was a flood of light and then the hubbub of voices from the street. Maxie tensed. The last two hours had been hell. An eternity of fear and apprehension. She had a horrible sick feeling in her gut.

At last there he was.

She gasped, despite herself. He looked awful. There had been trouble. It wasn’t just the wound in his neck and the blood on his clothes – he was horribly pale and there was a look in his eyes. A look of despair she had never seen before.

It was a moment before she realized there were only three others with him.

Oh no.

She wanted to run to Arran and throw her arms around him. To comfort him, to comfort herself, to hold on to something.

He would hate it, though. He had no idea how she felt about him. She mustn’t let him find out. She wasn’t one of the pretty ones. She had a plain, square face and mousy curly hair that tangled into knots so that she had to hack away at it with scissors. To Arran she was just his second in command. That was all. She was tough. There was nothing girly or pink about her. If he knew that she’d always fancied him, he’d run a mile.

Fancy?

What a stupid word that was. It was more than fancy. She loved him. Another stupid word. Love. What did it really mean? She knew how it felt. Good and bad at the same time. There was no one else. No mum and dad. No brothers or sisters. There was just Arran.

But he was hurt.

They both spoke at the same time. The same words – ‘What’s happened?’

So he knew it, too. He could read it in her face. She had screwed up.

Who was going to explain first?

Arran sniffed and cleared his throat.

‘We lost Deke,’ he said flatly.

‘Oh no…’

Arran shrugged. ‘There were too many of them.’

Maxie didn’t know what to say. She was glad that Arran had told his news first. It didn’t make hers sound so bad. But it was bad.

Arran looked at her. ‘We saw Blue and the Morrisons crew,’ he said. ‘Told us there’d been trouble.’

‘Some grown-ups got over the wall at the back,’ said Maxie.

‘How many?’

‘Not sure. Four or five…’

‘They get anyone?’

Maxie nodded.

Arran looked around, trying to see who was missing.

‘It was Sam,’ said Maxie. ‘Small Sam.’

‘Poor little bugger,’ said Arran. ‘This hasn’t been a good day.’

‘No. There’s been grown-ups hanging around since you left. I keep expecting them to attack again.’

‘They won’t attack Waitrose,’ said Arran, taking his club over to the rack where they kept their weapons. ‘They never have done.’

‘They might,’ said Achilleus, who was already at the rack, with Freak and Ollie. ‘They’re changing. It’s getting tough, man.’

‘It’s all over for us,’ said Freak, looking utterly miserable and defeated.

Achilleus grabbed him and slammed him into the rack, spilling weapons on to the floor.

‘That was your bright idea, Freak,’ he snarled. ‘None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for you. Don’t never forget that. Deke’s blood is on your hands, man.’

Arran pulled him off.

‘Don’t be an arsehole, Akkie,’ he said. Achilleus briefly flared up then turned away and let his breath out in a dismissive huff, before sinking into sullen blankness.

‘We’re not going to start blaming each other,’ said Arran. ‘It won’t get us anywhere. We’re all in this together. If we start fighting among ourselves it really is all over. OK?’

‘Yeah, whatever.’ Achilleus wandered off.

Arran put a hand on Freak’s shoulder.

‘You all right?’

Freak looked at his hands. Stained red. He wiped them on his shirt and shrugged.

Ollie took the dead dog off Arran, who seemed to have forgotten he was still carrying it.

‘Come on, Freak,’ he said. ‘Let’s see what we can do with this.’

In a moment Maxie was alone with Arran. She was desperate to explain herself.

‘They came in the car park,’ she said. ‘We’d told the little kids not to go out there.’

‘Not your fault,’ said Arran.

‘I thought you were going to be so mad at me,’ said Maxie quietly.

‘Not your fault,’ Arran repeated.

‘I know, but…’

‘In case you hadn’t noticed, Maxie, I didn’t do so good either.’

Maxie almost burst into tears.

‘We can’t go on like this, Arran.’

‘Yeah?’ Arran stared at her. That bleak look in his eyes still. ‘So what are we supposed to do then?’

‘I don’t know, do I?’ said Maxie, trying to control her voice.

Arran sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s been a tough day. I’m the leader. I’m supposed to know what to do, aren’t I?’

‘You can’t know everything. You can’t always be expected to know the best way to…’ Maxie stopped herself. It wasn’t helping. ‘We should call a meeting. Talk about it.’

‘Later,’ said Arran. ‘I’m tired.’ He closed his eyes for a moment. Maxie took the opportunity to study his wound. It looked nasty, a row of weeping black holes surrounded by yellow and purple bruising. She touched him gently with her fingertips.

‘Does that hurt?’

Arran winced, then nodded.

‘You need to have it looked at,’ said Maxie. ‘Come on.’

They went upstairs. The floor above the shop was mostly a storage area, but there were offices here, the canteen and access to the roof terrace. One of the offices had been turned into a sick-bay and they kept a basic medical kit there. TCP and Savlon, painkillers, Paracetamol and bandages. They found Maeve sitting at a desk staring out of the window. Maeve acted as nurse and doctor. Her parents had both been doctors and she’d picked up bits and pieces from them. She knew more than any of the other kids, so in their world she was an expert.

Arran showed her the damage and she went to work. She cleaned the cuts, put on some disinfectant and taped a bandage over it, then gave him something for the pain. She said nothing. They all three knew that it was serious. There would be an anxious wait to see whether the wound got infected. Three kids had died from infections since they’d been holed up here. To lose Arran in the same way would be a catastrophe.

Maxie didn’t know what she’d do without him.

7

That evening the kids held a meeting in the courtyard on the roof. They had made the area as civilized as they could manage, adding to what was already here with stuff they’d scrounged from nearby buildings. There were plants in raised beds and pots, garden furniture to sit on, some tables and two big barbecues where they did most of their cooking.

They had a few solar-powered lamps and candles in jars, and had lit a fire in the barrel from inside a washing-machine that Ben and Bernie had turned into a brazier.

Small Sam’s sister, Ella, was sobbing quietly in a corner. Maeve had an arm round her, but most of the others just ignored her. They had all lost someone. They didn’t want to be reminded.

Maxie tried hard. Tried not to glance over at the little girl. Tried not to think how awful she must be feeling. And it wasn’t only Ella. Freak was lurking in the shadows in another corner. He hadn’t said a word since they’d got back.

‘As you all know, we lost two kids today,’ said Arran. ‘It’s getting bad. I don’t know how much longer we can hold on here.’

Instantly there was a chorus of distressed voices.

‘But where would we go…?’

‘We’re safe here…’

‘We can’t go out there…’

‘We’ll be all right. You’ll find food.’

‘You’ll kill all the grown-ups.’

‘I won’t,’ Arran shouted, his voice breaking. This shocked everyone into silence. They weren’t used to seeing Arran lose his temper.

‘I can’t,’ he went on. ‘There’s too many of them. I can’t kill them all. We can’t go on like this. We’re getting weaker every day.’

There was a long silence. The little kids looked terrified. They couldn’t handle this. None of them wanted to face up to the reality of their situation.

A fair-haired kid with a wide mouth they’d nicknamed Monkey-Boy, because he loved to climb things, broke the silence.

‘We’re doing all right, Arran. We’re not starving or nothing. You brought us back the dog today.’

‘Yeah, right,’ Arran said bitterly. ‘And how long can we go on like this? Eating dogs? Being taken by the grownups? One by one. Huh? How long? We bumped into Blue and the Morrisons crew before. They agree. They reckon the grown-ups are getting worse. They’re wearing us down.’

Callum stood up and stepped into the flickering light of the fire.

‘Listen, Arran,’ he said. ‘You’re scaring the little ones. We know it was tough today. We know you got hurt and you lost Deke and all that. We know why you’re angry, but… Well, go easy, yeah?’

‘Yeah, sorry,’ said Arran and he wiped sweat from his forehead.

Callum stayed standing.

‘Can I say something else?’

Arran nodded.

‘We mustn’t ever leave here.’

‘Didn’t you listen to anything I said?’ asked Arran.

‘This is our home now,’ Callum went on. ‘It was bad luck today. That’s all. We’ll just have to be more careful, yeah? We’ve made this place safe. We’re learning all the time. We’ve survived this far. Why shouldn’t we carry on? I been on the roof nearly all day, and I can tell you, I seen it out there. It’s not safe, yeah? Not safe at all…’

Almost as if to illustrate Callum’s point there was a crash and a yell from the street below, followed by a hideous scream.

Josh scuttled over the roof from the crow’s-nest and shouted down to them.

‘There’s something out there!’