Текст книги "The Enemy"

Автор книги: Charlie Higson

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

Sam switched off the torch.

Blackness again.

He crawled on. His knees stinging. The sound of his followers too close behind.

The one in front worked his way nearer and nearer, his rancid breath coming in short rasping gasps. He got hold of Sam’s ankle. Sam kicked out and kept kicking. He felt something break like a twig and he hoped it was at least a finger. No matter how hard he kicked it, though, the grown-up wouldn’t let go. It was then that Sam remembered the butterfly pin. He had it stuck through a fold of cloth on the front of his sweatshirt. He pulled it loose, curled back round and struck – jab, jab, jab, jab, jab – right where he thought the grown-up’s face would be. It was like poking a watermelon. There was a shriek and the grown-up let go and thrashed about like a wounded animal.

That might hold the others up. Sam crawled on. He risked another burst of light. The bottom of the train seemed to stretch away forever ahead of him, but off to one side was a dark hole in the tunnel wall. Maybe a way out?

He stuffed the torch back into his pocket, lay flat and, making as little noise as he could, moved slowly sideways over the rail, past the wheels of the train where there was a gap between two carriages. He couldn’t risk the torch. It would show the grown-ups where he was. So he ran his hands over the wall until he found the opening and ducked into it. He heard the grown-ups move past him, still under the train. It wouldn’t take them long to realize he wasn’t ahead of them any more, but would they be able to find this hiding-place? Sam backed deeper into the hole; the ground sloped downwards into shallow water. He soon came to a solid wall. Once more he used his hands to get the shape of his surroundings and he discovered that he was at the bottom of a shaft of some sort. It was open above his head and, what’s more, there were metal rungs fixed to the wall. He hauled himself up and climbed into the darkness.

21

‘I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know… We couldn’t tell…’

Arran was lying where he had fallen, surrounded by dead grown-ups, and Maxie, Blue and a stunned circle of the rest of the Holloway kids. The girl was kneeling by him, her hand pressed to his chest where the steel shaft of the arrow stuck out. Her bow was lying next to his body.

Maxie didn’t know her name. She didn’t want to know. She was tall and thin and posh, with long dark hair and very white skin. She was wearing a battered black leather jacket and knee-length biker boots.

Standing in a small, wary knot behind her were her friends, five girls and seven boys. They were all lean and wiry and weather-beaten, as if they’d been living outdoors for some time. Their eyes moved like animals’ eyes. Watchful, alert, unsure.

The Holloway crew outnumbered them easily.

And they had shot Arran.

‘We’d been following the pack,’ said the girl. ‘The adults. We didn’t know what they were up to. We’d never seen them behave this way before. We know how to keep hidden. We were staying out of their way. And then they were charging down the street towards us. We thought they were coming for us. We started firing. We never saw the boy among them.’ She touched the vanes at the tip of the arrow. ‘This is mine,’ she said sadly. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Being sorry won’t bring him back,’ said Maxie. ‘Being sorry never changed anything.’

‘It was an accident,’ said Ollie, and Maxie shot him a dirty look.

Maeve pushed her way to the front and knelt by Arran. She put her ear to his chest and a finger to the artery in his neck.

‘He’s not dead,’ she said.

‘Oh, thank God,’ Maxie sobbed and dropped to the road beside Maeve. She put her face to Arran’s. It was wet with tears. She didn’t care who saw it.

‘Arran,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘Don’t die.’

Arran’s lips parted and he spoke one word, in the quietest whisper they had ever heard. So deep was the silence, however, that there was no mistaking what he said.

‘No.’

Maxie smiled through her tears.

‘He’s not going to die. He’s strong. He’s our leader. He’s going to get us to the palace…’

‘The palace?’ said the girl, and now Jester stepped forward.

‘I’m taking them to Buckingham Palace,’ he said. ‘It’s safe there.’

‘It’s not safe anywhere,’ said the girl. ‘We know. We’ve been all over.’

‘Have you been into the centre of town?’ asked Jester.

‘Well, no…’

‘Then you haven’t been all over, have you?’

‘She’s not coming with us, anyway,’ said Maxie, standing up. ‘Not after what she’s done to Arran.’

‘I didn’t mean to.’

‘Yeah,’ said Blue. ‘It was an accident. If they want to come with us then let them. We could use some more fighters. We lost seven kids in the battle.’

‘She’s not coming,’ Maxie shouted.

‘If I say she’s coming, she’s coming,’ said Blue.

‘Why?’ said Maxie. ‘Because she’s pretty?’

‘What’s that got to do with it?’ Blue laughed dismissively. ‘I told you, she’s a bare good fighter We all need to stick together.’

‘Who put you in charge all of a sudden?’ Maxie snorted.

‘You said just now Arran was the leader,’ said Blue calmly, ignoring Maxie’s outburst. ‘Well, that wasn’t strictly speaking true, was it? We was both leaders. And now he’s hurt bad, so, from here on, I’m in charge.’

Maxie glared at Blue, her eyes defiant. ‘I’m Arran’s second in command,’ she said. ‘I’ll take his place until he’s better.’

‘I’m in charge, girl,’ said Blue.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Ollie, stepping between them. ‘All that matters right now is we try to get Arran sorted. Then we can argue over who’s in charge. Maeve, is there anything you can do?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Maeve, shaking her head. ‘The arrow’s in pretty deep. If we take it out he might bleed worse.’

‘Is it in his heart?’

‘If it was in his heart he’d be dead already.’

‘His lung?’

‘Maybe.’

Maeve looked round at the girl who was still kneeling next to her. ‘What do you think? Do you know about arrows?’

‘I think you’re right. If you try to take it out you could make it worse.’

‘You can’t leave him like that,’ Maxie yelled. ‘You can’t.’

Ollie nodded at the girl. ‘You?’ he said. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Sophie,’ said the girl.

‘Tell me, Sophie,’ said Ollie, crouching down to inspect the wound. ‘Is it barbed? The arrow? Has it got a barbed head?’

‘No,’ said Sophie. ‘It’s a sports arrow, designed for shooting at targets. It’s probably gone right through him. It was very close range.’

Maxie wailed and threw herself on Arran, cupping his face in her hands.

‘He was already weak from the bite in his neck,’ she said. ‘What are we going to do?’

‘OK,’ said Jester. ‘As I see it, it’s like this. He can’t walk. So, whatever we do, we’ll have to carry him. Maybe make a stretcher, or find a trolley, or something.’

‘We can’t move him like that with an arrow sticking out of him,’ Blue objected.

‘I know that,’ said Jester. ‘So we’ll have to risk taking it out. We’ve no other choice. We’ll have to bandage him up and just hope we can stop the bleeding.’

‘You’ll only be able to stop the bleeding on the outside,’ said Maeve. ‘Not inside. He’ll die.’

‘Well, what do you suggest?’ said Jester. ‘We operate on him?’

‘It would be the only way to save him,’ said Sophie.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ Maxie snapped. ‘We can’t operate on him.’

‘I know,’ said Sophie sadly.

‘If we can just get him to the palace he might have a chance,’ said Jester. ‘But if we stay here he won’t, and it’ll be dangerous for the rest of us. We have to keep moving. I say we take the arrow out and see what happens.’

‘No,’ said Maxie.

‘We ain’t got time for this,’ said Achilleus and he marched over to Arran, grabbed the arrow and yanked it out. Maxie screamed. A gout of lumpy jellylike blood dribbled from the wound. Arran groaned and coughed. His body spasmed and he was still.

‘You’ve killed him,’ screamed Maxie.

‘No.’ It was Arran’s voice.

22

Sam waited, perched on the metal rungs. There was no way out of the shaft. The top was blocked. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on, even though he had wedged his body across the gap. His muscles were sore and shaking. His back hurt.

He tried to concentrate on hanging on instead of imagining what the grown-ups were doing. Every time he thought they’d gone he heard them again. Searching for him. Just be small, he told himself. Be small and still, and try to think of happier times. Of sunny days on the beach. Of playing with his Playmobil. Anything other than being stuck underground in this tiny space with the grown-ups sniffing around for him.

He heard one nearby. Snuffling like a pig. Its fingers raking the brickwork. He felt warm liquid trickling down his legs and he realized he must have wet himself again. He prayed that they wouldn’t be able to smell it. Then he heard the grown-up lapping at the water on the ground. A few seconds later it was sick. A fight broke out. The grown-ups snarling and whining at each other.

Why wouldn’t they just go away?

He had had enough.

He was only nine.

A terrible voice inside tempted him to give up, to let go and drop down and make an end to it.

No more fear. No more pain.

But there was a stronger force making his hands grip tighter, tensing his legs, readying them to kick if needed.

He was Sam the giant slayer. Sam of the silver pin. He thought about his favourite film – Time Bandits – how the little people in it won in the end against the forces of evil.

And he remembered the story of Pandora’s box that they’d read at school. After all the nasty things had come out of it there was one thing left. Hope. And Pandora had let it out of the box.

He had to have hope.

The grown-ups would go. He would climb down. He would find his sister and his friends and walk to safety.

Callum pressed Play on the beat-box and sat in his armchair. He smiled as the sound of Abba filled the shop. ‘Dancing Queen’. Abba had been his mum’s favourite band. She had taken him to see Mamma Mia live on stage and although he’d complained, secretly he’d enjoyed it. He couldn’t remember how many times they’d watched the DVD together. There were a lot of uncool things he liked but had to pretend to hate, like High School Musical and Harry Potter.

And Abba…

Well, now he could listen to what he wanted, he could read what he wanted, he could do what he wanted without any other kids laughing at him. He opened a can of peaches and took a gulp of the sweet juice. The taste exploded inside his mouth and he closed his eyes. He couldn’t remember when he had ever been happier.

*

Arran’s mouth was dry and he felt hungry. God, he was hungry. He was hungry and he was thirsty, but there was no pain. He felt nothing. He was drifting in a warm sea. He struggled to keep his eyes open. Sometimes the sky looked black, sometimes a brilliant, blinding white.

And sometimes it was red as blood.

He slept for a while, and dreamed of sitting at his Xbox.

When he woke his mother was there, cradling him in her arms, and he felt an overwhelming happiness. He wanted to tell everyone. The nightmare was over. His mother looked down into his face and smiled the most beautiful smile. He knew that everything was all right if she smiled at him like that. There were no more monsters. She brushed his hair off his forehead and rested a cool hand on his face. Like she always did when he was sick. To see if he was hot. And all the while her eyes were smiling at him.

‘I love you, baby,’ she said, and he smiled back. He opened his mouth to speak; he wanted to tell her something. It was hard to get the words out. They stuck in his dry throat.

They had bandaged the wound and wrapped Arran tightly around the chest. The white material was soon stained dark with blood, though. The wound was steadily leaking and nobody dared catch Maxie’s eye. They all knew the worst – Arran was dying – but Maxie wouldn’t admit it. They hated themselves for it, but they wanted to move on, leave Arran behind. It wasn’t safe here. The grown-ups had attacked once and they would attack again. The longer the kids stayed still, the more danger they were in.

But Maxie sat by the body and wouldn’t move. It was late. She’d been holding him for what seemed like hours. Talking quietly. Trying to give him water.

She could hear the others muttering. They were plotting. She knew they wanted to abandon Arran. She looked at his handsome face, so pale and tired looking. He hadn’t moved for ages.

And then his lips parted and Maxie’s heart leapt.

‘Come over here,’ she cried. ‘Quick. It’s all right, listen, he’s trying to speak.’

Ollie came back over with Maeve and Blue.

‘Listen,’ said Maxie. ‘I’m sure he’s trying to say something. He only needed a rest. He’s getting stronger at last. If he can speak he’s all right.’

Arran’s grey-blue eyes opened and they were clear and bright. He smiled at Maxie.

‘I love you, Mum,’ he said quietly and he died in Maxie’s arms.

23

They had ransacked the buildings and gardens nearby and collected everything they could find that would burn – fallen branches, tables, chairs, doors, pallets, scaffolding planks, tyres – and packed it around the BMW. It was no more use to them. Blue had driven it around, chasing off the last of the grownups after the battle, until the last of its petrol had run out.

Once they had a good-sized bonfire they wrapped Arran and the other dead kids in sheets. They wanted to make sure their faces were hidden. Then they placed the bodies on top of the heap.

Maxie had insisted. There was no way she was going to leave them here to be eaten. Arran and the others would be given a hero’s send-off.

The dead grown-ups they left where they had fallen.

Freak sprayed a message on to a nearby wall.

THIS IS WHERE ARRAN HARPER FELL. WE DON’T KNOW THE DAY OR THE DATE, BUT WE’LL NEVER FORGET IT. HE WAS THE BRAVEST OF US ALL. Whitney and Josh gave him the names of the other kids who had died and Freak added them to the mural, then finished it with a Freaky-Deaky tag.

When they were ready Maxie lit a match and approached the car.

Freak called her back.

‘Before you do that,’ he said, ‘can I say something?’

‘OK,’ said Blue, ‘but make it quick. We need to get going.’

‘I’ll be quick,’ said Freak. He took a breath and looked at the faces of the kids.

‘Arran talked to me this morning,’ he said. ‘Helped me to keep going. Now it’s my turn. We all lost someone we loved today. But the thing is, we won. We beat them. I was going to write something different over there. I was going to write “Arran Lives”. Cos it’s important we don’t forget what he wanted. To get to the palace and have a better life. And we mustn’t forget one other thing. Us kids are all in this together. We’re all on the same side. The grown-ups are the enemy. It was an accident, what happened to Arran. And I don’t want no one to blame Sophie. We work together, we survive together.’

‘Yeah, nice speech,’ said Achilleus with a touch of sarcasm. ‘Now light the fire.’

Maxie stepped forward and soon the great pile was sending flames several metres into the air. Maxie saw something lying on the ground and stooped to pick it up. It was Arran’s club. It felt heavy in her hands. It was all that was left of him.

From now on it was hers.

Once the kids were sure that the fire wasn’t going to go out they set off. They didn’t want to stay and watch the bodies burn to ash. They said their farewells and marched away in battle formation, the fire at their backs.

The plan was to keep going and try to get to the palace that night, even though it was late and the sky had grown dark. The problem was not only that there was nowhere in Camden for such a large party of kids to shelter safely, there was also the danger of a blaze that was spreading down from Kentish Town, consuming every building in its path and sending up thick smoke which further darkened the sky.

Sophie and the archers walked at the front with Blue and Jester. Then came the other fighters, Big Mick, Achilleus, Freak and the rest. Ollie and the skirmishers brought up the rear as ever. Lewis took up his position on the left flank. Maxie left Josh in charge of her group on the right flank, however, and joined the little kids in the centre of the column. She wanted to be with them, and take comfort from them. They were affectionate and caring and not afraid to show their emotions. They hugged Maxie and held her hand and told her it was all right and that they missed Arran, and they swapped stories about him, his great deeds. She nearly burst into tears again when little Joel gave her his puppy, Godzilla, to hold. The puppy felt warm and soft. He was very sleepy but he managed to lick her face before snuggling down in her arms. She walked on with Joel staring up at her.

Whitney came over and tickled the dog behind his ear.

‘Cute,’ she said, and Maxie smiled.

‘Listen,’ Whitney went on. ‘I’m sorry about Arran. We all are.’

‘It’s OK.’

‘I didn’t really know him,’ said Whitney, ‘but I could tell he was all right. You had a thing for him, didn’t you?’

‘I don’t know. We never spoke about it.’

‘Sometimes you don’t have to, girl.’

‘It just seems so unfair,’ said Maxie angrily. ‘You wake up one morning with your whole life ahead of you. So many things to see and do, and then – bang! You’re dead. There’s nothing. I can’t stop thinking about how his life has just stopped like that. He’ll never grow up. Never have kids of his own. Never grow old.’

‘Just think of him like that, yeah?’ said Whitney. ‘Forever young. Always the beautiful Arran you knew.’

‘Forever dead,’ said Maxie.

‘Hey, come on, think positive,’ said Whitney. ‘That’s an order.’

Maxie gave a bitter, slightly hysterical laugh. ‘Think positive? Look at us, Whitney. Look at what’s happened to us. What’s to be positive about?’

‘At least Big Brother ain’t on the TV no more.’

‘No.’ Maxie gave a snort of laughter that almost slid into tears.

‘See, you can still laugh.’

‘I feel dead inside,’ said Maxie.

‘It’ll pass. We’ve all lost people.’

‘I know. I’m sorry. It’s been a horrible day.’

‘There’s too many friends have been killed,’ said Whitney. ‘Too many.’

‘Yeah,’ said Maxie. ‘Arran’s not the first and he won’t be the last. Every time someone dies I don’t think I can take any more.’

‘But somehow you do, don’t you?’ said Whitney. ‘You carry on.’

‘Yeah,’ said Maxie, and she wiped away a tear.

‘I dunno,’ said Whitney. ‘Maybe, when this is all over, when we’re safe and we can rest, that’s the time to cry. Right now, like your man said, we gotta stick together and help each other.’

‘I know. Thanks, Whitney.’

‘And listen.’ Whitney held Maxie’s arm. ‘Blue. He’s all right, you know. He has to act tough, cos he’s our leader. But he ain’t stupid. You need to work with him.’

‘I’ll try.’

Whitney gripped Maxie’s head in an affectionate arm-lock.

‘You’re strong. I know it, girl. Together we can be stronger.’

It was a moonless night, and no stars shone in the clouded sky. Some kids had made flaming torches, but they were quickly burning out. Those that had them were using their friction torches. They had to keep in a huddled mass, though, or risk getting split up in the dark.

Freak was plodding along, lost in his thoughts. He felt someone nudge him in the side.

‘You planning on going to the Oscars? Make some more cheesy speeches?’

It was Achilleus. Freak sighed and looked away.

‘Why do you always have to pretend to be so tough, Akkie?’ he said.

‘Who’s pretending?’

‘Don’t you care about Arran?’

‘Yeah. I care. He was all right. But you don’t fool me. I know what that speech was really all about.’

‘Oh yeah, what?’

Achilleus put on a whiny voice, mocking Freak. ‘Don’t blame Sophie, it was an accident, us kids have to stick together… Bullshit. You’re just feeling guilty about what you did to Arran and don’t want no one to blame you.’

‘What do you mean, what I did to Arran? I didn’t do nothing to him.’

‘It was you got him killed, Freaky-Deaky.’

‘What are you talking about? I never shot that arrow.’

‘Didn’t need to. He was already dying. And Deke was already dead. All because you wanted to go looking for a stupid vending machine.’

Freak felt a lump in his throat. He fought hard not to sob.

‘Don’t say that.’

‘It’s the truth, Freaky-Deaky. You know it and I ain’t never going to forget it. You nearly got us all killed. You think if Arran hadn’t been bitten he would have gone crazy back there? No. And he wouldn’t have got shot. All your fault.’

Freak swore at Achilleus who spat in the road and walked over to Mick. He said something to the big Morrisons kid, who looked at Freak and laughed.

Up at the front Jester was talking to Blue, their torches raking the road in front of them.

‘We should try to go faster,’ said Jester. ‘We’ve lost a lot of time. We should have arrived in daylight.’

‘We’re safer at night,’ said Blue. ‘Less grown-ups around.’

‘I don’t feel safe. Not after what happened today.’

‘Wasn’t right,’ said Blue. ‘Grown-ups don’t usually act like that. Clubbing together. They was an army. I’ve not seen that before.’

‘You still think that the park is the best way to go?’ said Jester.

‘Yeah,’ said Blue. ‘It’s wide open – we can see anything that’s coming. Grown-ups don’t like wide-open spaces. I was thinking we could even set up camp for the night. Post sentries round the edges. Let the little ones rest.’

‘They’ve rested enough,’ said Jester. ‘We were hours in Camden waiting for Arran to die.’

‘That’s cold, man,’ said Blue. ‘What do you think we should have done? Finished him off ourselves?’

‘Of course not,’ said Jester. ‘But it was obvious he was going to die.’

‘We did what we did, man,’ said Blue. ‘Couldn’t have done it no other way.’

‘I know,’ said Jester. ‘And I think it was good the way you took control. I think you should take overall charge.’

‘What do you mean?’ Blue turned to Jester, but couldn’t clearly see his features in the dark.

‘We don’t need two leaders,’ said Jester. ‘Maxie can look after the little kids. She’s a girl. She fell apart when Arran died.’

‘We’ll see,’ said Blue. ‘The Waitrose crew ain’t necessarily gonna accept me as their boss. We need Maxie.’

‘Maybe.’

‘And what about when we get there?’ said Blue.

‘How do you mean?’

‘Presumably you got someone in charge at the palace.’

‘Yeah…’

‘So what happens? Eh? I just sit down and do what I’m told?’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Jester. ‘We’ll work something out.’

‘Yeah,’ said Blue. ‘We will.’