The Enemy (2 page)

They waited. They could hear the dogs long before they saw them. A cacophony of howling, yelping, and barking. Al jumbled together, it sounded like a single mad beast.

Achil eus leveled his spear, pointing it toward the noise. It was made from a metal spike he’d found on a building site. It had a heavy lump at one end, and he’d sharpened the other into a vicious point. It was perfect for keeping grown-ups at bay. He could stab with the front and use the back end to batter them. It was definitely not for throwing. Too precious for that.

Arran took up a defensive position behind him, next to Freak and Deke. Freak and Deke were a team, best mates. Before the disaster they’d taken to the streets armed only with spray cans. Their tag was “Freaky-Deaky,” and it could be seen al over Tufnel Park and Camden Town, sprayed on wal s and shutters, stenciled on to the sidewalks, scratched on the glass in bus shelters. They knew al the back ways, al the al eys and shortcuts. Freak, whose real name was David, had close-cropped hair and a thin, pinched face. He was always sniffing. Deke was the bigger of the two. He was good looking and would have been popular with the girls if he hadn’t spent al his time with Freak. The two were inseparable, always finishing each other’s sentences and laughing at each other’s jokes. Freak carried an ax and Deke a sledgehammer. They were mainly for knocking down doors and opening windows, although, if needed, they could be used as weapons.

The last in the group was Ol ie. Smal and red haired, the cleverest of them al . He had sharp eyes and could think quickly. He kept himself to himself, and most of the time he kept quiet. But when he did speak, people listened. Arran would often ask Ol ie for advice, and it was never seen as a weakness.

Ol ie always knew the best thing to do.

As the barking of the dogs grew louder, Ol ie stepped back and to one side, keeping a clear line of sight. His weapon was a slingshot that he had taken from a sports shop. It was a powerful hunter’s model, with a pistol grip and a metal brace that fitted over his forearm. He drew the rubber band back and tucked a heavy steel bal into the worn leather pouch.

Whenever the kids were outside of camp, they traveled in groups of at least four. One to look ahead and lead the way, two to check the sides, and one to watch their backs. But, as Freak and Deke always worked together, there were five of them today. They had learned early on to move down the middle of the roads, rather than to stay out of sight among the buildings along the sides. Grown-ups could hide in the shadows and grab you from the darkness. They weren’t such a threat in the open, because on the whole they didn’t move fast enough. The biggest danger was if you got surrounded.

In a mass the grown-ups were a real threat, bigger and heavier than the kids, and diseased. Grown-ups were rarely organized enough to plan any real strategy, though, and for the most part they came lumbering out in a pack from the side. Then the best thing to do was run.

Anything to avoid a fight.

Dogs were different, however. Unpredictable. Dangerous.

“Are they coming our way?” said Freak, scratching his stubbly head.

“Think so,” said Ol ie, his slingshot creaking.

“Let them,” said Achil eus. “I’m ready.”

“It gets more dangerous every time we come out,” said Arran.

“Tel me about it,” said Deke, nervously twisting his sledgehammer in his hand.

Then the first of the dogs appeared, a skinny mongrel with one eye. It bowled out into the street, fel over, wriggled on the ground, then lay on its back in surrender. A second dog was hard on its tail, a dirty pit bul . It had evidently been chasing the mongrel, because it came at him with teeth bared and hackles raised.

There was an almost comical moment when the two dogs realized that they had an audience. They both did a double take and looked at the boys in surprise. The rest of the pack came into view at almost the same time, howling and barking.

They skidded to a halt and a couple of them knocked into the pit bul , who turned and snapped at them.

The little mongrel saw its moment and scurried off. The pit bul stood there, sniffing the air. The other dogs were a mismatched mob, with missing fur and diseased eyes caked with pus. Some were limping, some wounded. One sat down in the road and vigorously scratched its ear, until another dog bit it and it scampered away.

The pit bul strutted forward, growling, then it started to bark at the boys, and the rest of the pack joined in. Instantly the street was fil ed with their racket.

“Wil they attack, do you think?” asked Freak.

“Depends how hungry they are,” said Arran.

“They look pretty hungry to me,” said Deke, and he gripped his sledgehammer tighter.

“Try and scare them off,” said Arran, and the boys now made a racket of their own, yel ing and screaming and waving their arms. Some of the dogs backed off, but the bolder ones were soon inching closer.

The big pit bul shook his head and nosed ahead, his claws scratching on the asphalt.

“Take him out,” said Arran. “He’s the boss. Maybe the others wil get the message.”

Ol ie loosed his shot. The steel bal hit the dog squarely in the forehead, his legs crumpled, and he went down without a sound. The other dogs sniffed him, and one or two set up howling. Then a big German shepherd ran from the back of the pack, leading three other hounds with him. Achil eus went down on one knee, and as the dog pounced, he stuck him through the chest with his spear. The fol owers veered off to the side, and Ol ie hit one more with a steel bal , breaking its leg. It yelped and turned tail, dragging its leg behind.

With a great war cry, the boys charged, and the rest of the dogs scattered.

Ol ie quickly searched the area for his ammunition. He found his second bal lying in the gutter. The first one was stuck in the pit bul ’s head in a neat crease of broken bone.

The five of them knelt by the dead body.

“Can we risk eating it?” said Freak. “What’s that parasite Maeve’s always going on about? That worm thing you can catch from eating dog? Tricky something.”

“Trichinosis,” said Arran. “He’l be al right if he’s wel cooked.”

“Yeah,” said Deke. “We’l deep-fry him in batter, with some fries and a nice glass of wine. Delicious.”

Freak giggled. “I know a gourmet recipe for fried dog.”

“We can’t waste any food,” said Arran. “Some of the kids are getting real y thin. Leave the German shepherd, though. He’s too big to carry and his carcass might keep the pack busy.”

Achil eus took out his knife and gutted the dead animal, leaving the purple-gray entrails in the road to further distract the other dogs.

He then tied the dog’s legs together with some nylon cord and slung it over Arran’s shoulder.

“Should we go back?” said Freak.

“We need to find as much food as we can,” said Arran. “It’s always a risk leaving camp, and it gets riskier every time. The dog’s not enough for twenty of us.”

Every day a scavenging party left the camp to look for supplies. They searched among the empty houses and apartments for any abandoned cans, packages, and bottles. Each time they had to start their search farther from Waitrose. Al the buildings close by had long since been picked clean. Most days they found nothing, but a lucky discovery could last them a long time.

They knew it couldn’t last, though. They had already been through every accessible building within a mile of Waitrose, except around Crouch End, which had been destroyed in a fire, and up around the Arsenal soccer stadium, where there was a large nest of grown-ups.

Sooner or later they would have to move camp.

But where would they go?

Arran pushed his hair out of his eyes. His guts hurt. He didn’t real y feel hungry anymore, just sick and tired. He’d grown to hate these streets. The smel of them, the filth everywhere, the grass and weeds pushing out of every crack, the constant fear chewing away at him. He had been happy at first when they’d made him leader, but then it slowly dawned on him that he was responsible for everyone else. If anything went wrong he had to take the blame. That was why someone like Achil eus, who could easily beat him in a fight, was happy not to be in charge. He could show off and suck up the praise, but when a tough decision had to be made, he would sit back, hold up his hands, and let Arran sweat it out.

It was a warm and sunny spring day. There was a real sense that summer wasn’t far off. Normal y Arran would have enjoyed the sunshine and warmth.

In the past he had always loved seeing the first green leaves come out on the trees, as if the world were waking up. Now it just meant that the grown-ups were getting bolder. In the winter they’d been too cold and feeble to be much danger, but the change in the weather seemed to give them new courage and strength. Their attacks were becoming more frequent.

They were hungrier than ever.

The kids trudged up Hol oway Road. It was ful of memories for Arran—eating at McDonald’s, shopping with his mom, going to the movies. . . .

He tried to shut the memories out. They only made him feel worse.

When they came to Archway they moved more cautiously.

There was a tube station here, a perfect hiding place for grown-ups.

“Which way?” said Deke.

“Highgate Road,” said Arran. “We’l work our way toward the Whittington.”

“Ain’t going in no hospital,” said Achil eus.

“What’s the problem?”

“There won’t be nothing in there,” said Achil eus.

“Maybe drugs?” said Ol ie. “Paracetamol and antibiotics and that.”

“Doubt it,” said Deke. “When everything kicked off, it would have been the first place to be looted.”

“We’l take a look anyway,” said Arran. “Just in case. But let’s try the houses around here first.”

“Ain’t going in no hospital,” Achil eus repeated.

“What about the swimming pool, then?” said Freak.

“What about it?” said Achil eus.

“Worth a look, eh?”

“Why?” said Achil eus. “You feel like taking a swim?”

“Nah,” said Freak, “but there was always a vending machine in there.”

“Never worked,” said Achil eus. “Always stole your money.”

“Worth a look,” said Freak. “Think about it . . . Mars Bars, chips, chewing gum . . .”

“Won’t be nothing in there,” said Achil eus. “Not after al this time.”

“Listen,” Freak insisted. “Far as we know, us and the Morrisons crew are the only kids around. And they never come up here. Al I’m saying is we should look. Okay? If we’re looking in the Whittington we should look in the pool as wel . We search everywhere, in’t that right, Arran?”

“Suppose so,” said Arran.

“Waste of time,” said Ol ie. “When have we ever found a vending machine with anything in it?”

“You agree with me, don’t you, Deke?” said Freak.

“He agrees with everything you say,” Achil eus scoffed.

“Try me,” said Deke.

“The world is flat,” said Freak.

“Yes it is,” said Deke.

“Penguins can fly,” said Freak.

“Yes they can,” said Deke.

“I am the greatest kid that ever walked the earth,” said Freak.

“Yes you are,” said Deke.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” said Achil eus.

“Akkie is a jerk,” said Freak.

“Yes he is,” said Deke.

“I think you’ve made your point,” said Arran, trying not to smile. “We’l take a look.”

Ol ie sighed. This was a waste of time. What they needed was proper food, not junk. But Arran had spoken, and he was their leader.

Ol ie shoved a hand into his jacket and rol ed the heavy steel shot between his fingers. The cold hardness comforted him.

He didn’t like the idea of exploring the swimming pool. He was always scared on these hunts, and going into the unknown like this just made his heart race faster.

“Come on,” said Arran. “Let’s go.”

“Searching the swimming pool is a genius idea,” said Freak.

“Yes it is,” said Deke.

T
he 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 fel 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 al 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 stil 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 Achil eus see inside.