The Enemy (13 page)

Read The Enemy Online

Authors: Charlie Higson

Tags: #Europe, #Young Adult Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #London (England), #Juvenile Fiction, #Fiction, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Zombies, #Horror Stories, #People & Places, #General, #Horror Tales

It just wasn’t fair. He might make it to the palace only to drop dead.

Whatever happened, he was going to make sure that they al got there safely, though. His kids. Even if it was the last thing he did. He had to focus on that and not brood over anything else. He was responsible for this lot and he wasn’t going to let them down.

He needed to take his mind off his injury. He saw Freak, trudging along, head down, staring at the ground, his hood pul ed forward to cover as much of his face as possible.

“You al right, mate?” he asked.

Freak grunted. Could have been yes or no.

“D’you mind leaving the shop?”

Freak shrugged. Since he’d gone crazy in the battle last night he’d slipped back to being silent and moody.

“There wasn’t anything more you could have done,” said Arran kindly. “Even if we had got Deke away from there. He had glass in his side. His lung was punctured.”

“I know,” said Freak. “I just miss him, is al . He used to make me laugh. Nothing else did. He made me forget al this.”

“If I knew any jokes I’d tel you one,” said Arran.

“Don’t bother, mate. You’re terrible at tel ing jokes.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Arran. “Always have been. Luckily I was good at soccer, so it didn’t matter. That’s what I’d real y like to do, you know, play soccer again. First thing when we get there, I’m going to set up a game. You’l play, won’t you?”

“If we get there.”

“We’l get there,” said Arran.

“I wish I had your confidence,” said Freak bitterly.

Arran said nothing. He might have fooled Freak, but he wasn’t fooling himself. So far they’d seen no signs of any life at al , but he doubted it would stay that way. They’d definitely have to deal with grown-ups somewhere along the way. The image of the mother at the pool—his mother?—came unwanted into his head again.

“It’s not my mother,” he said without meaning to.

“You what?” Freak gave him a puzzled look.

“Nothing,” said Arran, and he pressed a palm against his hot temple.

“Listen, Freak,” he went on. “This might be tough, getting there and al , and we’re going to need al the help we can get. You walking along like that, looking like crap, it’s going to make the little kids scared. Be tough for them, yeah?”

Freak raised his head and stared at Arran.

“How did it end up like this?” he said. “We’re just kids ourselves.”

“It just happened,” said Arran. “Let’s not try to figure it out, eh, Freak?”

“I dunno.”

Arran unslung his backpack and opened it.

“Here,” he said. “I got something for you. I was waiting for the right moment. I guess this moment is as good as any.” He pul ed out a can of spray paint. Freak’s eyes went wide.

“Where’d you get that?” he said.

“I found it when I was clearing out Waitrose, getting ready to leave. It was packed away in the back of a cupboard. Dunno who put it there.”

“You got any more?”

“I got five, mate. Black, white, red, yel ow, and silver.” He passed one to Freak, who rattled it.

“Stil half ful .”

Arran handed over the other four cans, and Freak stashed them in his own backpack.

“Maybe if you can spray your tag somewhere—FreakyDeaky—it’l sort of keep Deke alive. Write in big letters ‘Deke lives,’ or something. Don’t let them win. The grown-ups.”

Freak pushed his hood back off his head and walked straighter and tal er. “Arran?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t worry.” Freak put a hand on Arran’s shoulder. “I’m with you al the way, man.”

“Thanks.”

Jester came over, his big mouth stretched into a tooth-fil ed grin.

“This is going to be so much easier than getting to Waitrose,” he said.

“I hope so,” said Arran.

“It wil be, you’l see. You guys know how to look after yourselves.”

Arran’s stomach clenched and he felt suddenly sick. He couldn’t speak for a moment, but Jester fil ed the silence.

“Something I want to know,” he said. “How come you al ended up living in Waitrose?”

“It just sort of happened,” said Arran. “I don’t know who got there first. But we al turned up looking for food.”

“And was there any?”

“Some. Amazingly. I think they’d stored up emergency supplies. There was stuff out of the way in freezers and upstairs in the storerooms. We had to break some locks, but we got to it al in the end. Same thing happened in Morrisons.

There was nothing fresh, of course, no fruit or vegetables or fresh meat, but there was canned stuff, and other useful things like candles and string and knives and batteries and I don’t know. . . .”

“No soap,” said Jester.

“Yeah, there was soap.”

“Shame you didn’t use any of it.”

Arran looked at Jester; his smile was even wider than before.

“What are you saying?”

“No offense and al ,” said Jester, “but you lot stink. You probably don’t notice it, living there al the time, but I’m tel ing you, it’s a relief to get out of that shop.” He held his nose theatrical y and screwed up his face.

“We wash when we can,” said Arran. “There were bathrooms there. Ben and Bernie rigged up a way to heat rainwater, but we weren’t going to waste too much of the stuff on washing. And, I mean, you’re right—after a while you don’t notice the smel .”

“What about your clothes?”

“We wash them now and then if we have to, but mostly we find new stuff in the shops. It’s easier.”

“You had it al worked out, didn’t you?” said Jester appreciatively. “That place looked like a fortress.”

“Yeah, we made it safe,” said Arran. “And once we were there, wel , where else could we go? We’ve been living on what we could find in the houses around here, but it was getting harder and harder. We’d have starved soon enough if you hadn’t shown up.”

“You’re going to make a real difference,” said Jester. “We can properly start getting ourselves sorted out at the palace.”

“It’s in Babylon,” said Arran.

“What is?” said Jester. “What do you mean?”

Arran laughed. “Sorry. I was thinking about something else. The words just came out.”

“You sure you’re feeling okay?” said Jester. “You look kind of hot and sweaty.”

“It’s nothing,” Arran lied. “I’m just reacting to this bite. It’s not serious.”

“We got medical books at the palace,” said Jester, “and lots of drugs. A girl cal ed Rose looks after us. She knows her stuff. We’l fix you up. We’ve even got antibiotics.”

“I think that’s what I need.”

“Yeah.”

Arran took some more water, felt it trickling down his throat. He pictured it like a stream of mercury. It hit his stomach, and another wave of sickness came over him. The sun seemed very bright al of a sudden, sparking off the cars and breaking up into fierce colored shards. He closed his eyes and instantly snapped them back open.

That face. Every time. His mother’s face. He couldn’t get rid of it.

“Don’t go to sleep,” said Jester.

“What? No . . .”

“Not while you’re walking. Do you want to stop for a rest?”

“No way,” Arran protested. “We’ve got to keep moving.”

Achil eus ran up with Big Mick, Blue’s best fighter. They’d been scouting ahead.

“It’s al clear as far as the tube station,” said Achil eus.

“Far as we can see, there’s no one around.”

“Did you look inside the cupboards?” said Arran.

“Inside what cupboards?”

“Ignore him,” said Jester, comical y twirling a finger around his temple. “He’s rambling.”

Arran tried to laugh it off again. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m just tired. Didn’t sleep last night. You know what it’s like when you think you’re only thinking something and you say it out loud.”

“Yeah,” said Achil eus, but he didn’t look convinced. He let Arran walk on a bit and went over to find Maxie on the left flank.

She was walking along, grim-faced and alert. She nodded when she saw Achil eus.

“I’m worried about Arran, man,” he said.

Maxie looked concerned. “What’s the matter with him?”

“He don’t look wel . He’s saying odd things.”

Maxie sighed. “Can you take over here? I’l go and talk to him.”

“Sure.”

Maxie jogged to the front of the group and found Arran. He looked pale and red-eyed. Her heart started beating faster. He had to be wel . He had to be. They couldn’t do this without him.

She slipped her arm through his, and he turned slowly. For a second he looked vague and tense, as if he didn’t recognize her, and then his face relaxed.

“Maxie.”

“Achil eus says you’re not feeling very wel .”

“I’m feeling fine. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“You look awful.”

“I’m just hot.” Arran put a hand to his forehead and swayed. Maxie had to catch him to stop him from fal ing.

“Blue! Wait!” she shouted, and Blue held up his hand for the group to halt. Maxie took Arran to the side of the road and sat him down on the curb. He slumped forward, his head hanging down between his knees, and was sick on the street, throwing up a thin, watery stream.

“You’re not good,” said Maxie.

“I feel better for that,” said Arran. “I’l be okay now.”

“We’l rest for a while.”

“No. We’ve hardly gone any distance at al , Maxie. We’ve a long way to go today.”

“You can’t go on in this state.”

“I just needed to be sick,” said Arran. “I’m fine now.” He stood up and immediately staggered sideways into a car.

He muttered something unintel igible.

“What was that?” said Maxie.

“I need to put my Playmobil away.”

Maxie exchanged a worried look with Blue and Jester, who were standing watching.

“This is serious,” she said.

W
hen I’m gone,” said Sam, “you’l have to properly close the doors.”

“I wil , yeah, I wil ,” said Cal um. “I should have done it before, but I wasn’t sure exactly how. I should have paid more attention to the emos.”

They had found a pump and two more bikes in the back by the loading bay. Sam vaguely remembered some of the older kids using the bikes in the early days, before it got too dangerous out on the streets. These bikes were too big for him, though, so he was going to stick with his lucky bike.

After finding the pump, the two of them had gone out on to the balcony and watched the grown-ups below. They halfheartedly pawed at the doors for a while, and threw things at them—one of them tried to force the doors open with a long stick. At one point a fight broke out and a mother was knocked down, unconscious or dead. Eventual y they al gave up and wandered off. Sam’s bike lay untouched in the street.

Cal um guarded the door while Sam got the bike back inside. Then he pumped up the tires, mended a couple of punctures, and straightened out a bent wheel. Now that he knew Sam wasn’t going to be staying, Cal um seemed to be behaving more normal y, although maybe he was being just a little bit too helpful. As if he were anxious to get rid of Sam.

For his part, Sam was dead on his feet, but he knew he had to keep going until he caught up with the others, or he might never be able to find them again. There was no way he would be able to get to the palace al by himself.

He had a quick snack of stale biscuits and water before taking the bike back outside.

Cal um was hovering in the open doorway now, looking nervously up and down the street. It was obvious he didn’t want to leave the building at al .

Sam climbed into the saddle, checked once more that the road was clear, and pushed off.

This was more like it. The bike went fast and straight. He whizzed along to the junction and turned onto Camden Road. Soon he was climbing the hil past the prison. It was heavy going, and halfway up he had to get off and push. Al the while keeping a lookout for any grown-ups. Once he got to the top, it was downhil al the way to Camden.

He got on the bike and took one last look back.

Good-bye.

A few seconds later he was sailing down the hil , the wind in his hair, dodging in and out of the cars in the road. The kids had given up checking cars long ago. Most were out of gas, and nobody knew how to start them, or unlock the steering, without the keys. Besides, a lot of the roads were blocked by abandoned and burned-out vehicles.

Sam almost didn’t spot the group of people up ahead before it was too late. They were moving down the hil between the cars in the same direction as him. Sam had had too many disappointments today to let his guard down and hope that this could be his friends. He was right not to be too optimistic.

They were grown-ups, walking slowly but purposeful y.

He would have to go around them. He cut off down a street to the right. He didn’t real y know the area around here. His mom and dad had never let him ride his bike on the roads. They said it was too dangerous. He’d only ever ridden in the park before, or on special trips to Epping Forest.

He told himself that he’d find his way. If he just kept heading downhil he was sure he’d hit Camden Town.

There was a dark thought scraping at the back of his mind, though.

What was it? What was wrong?

Something to do with the grown-ups.

No. He wasn’t going to worry about them. They hadn’t seen him. He could get around them al right.

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