The Enemy (29 page)

“The girl’s right,” said Whitney. “We don’t kil no other kids.”

“I can’t believe you’re even discussing it,” said Maeve.

“Okay, okay, everyone just calm down,” said Ol ie. “Let’s not get carried away here. Nobody’s suggesting we go into the squatter camp and kil them al . David just wants a show of strength.”

“We’re just going to shake them up a little,” said Mick.

“But why?” said Maxie. “What are they to us?”

“You know what?” said Lewis, which surprised Bernie, because she thought he’d dozed off. He’d been sitting back against a wal , eyes closed, his Afro bigger than ever since he’d washed it. “I think, in a way, maybe David’s right. If we ever want to go back to any sort of normal life, we have to make everywhere safe. Not just this little part.”

“Right, so we make London safe by attacking people, is that it?” Freak said sarcastical y. “Don’t sound safe to me, sounds like war.”

“It’s only war if they want to make it war,” said Lewis.

“Oh, so it’s their fault . . .”

“I agree with Lewis,” said Ol ie. “If these squatters listen to us—if they can work with us—then we’ve got al ies. We expand, we take over this area properly, then we move farther out—”

“What do you mean, ‘we’?” Maxie interrupted. “You mean David. He’s the one wants to take over London.”

“Why can’t you accept, Maxie,” said Ol ie, “that David’s got a good thing going on here? And we can help him build on it. If al the little scattered groups of kids in London can link up, before you know it we’l have civilization again.”

“So we make peace by making war?” said Freak.

“I guess so,” said Ol ie. “If that’s what it takes. Look at the ancient Greeks, the ancient Romans . . .”

“I don’t know nothing about al that,” said Freak. “I only know that the real enemy is the grown-ups.”

“And we have to unite if we want to defeat them,” said Ol ie. “If we can’t unite, then they win. It’s as simple as that. I’m sure these squatter kids wil see reason. I’m sure we won’t have to fight them.”

“Do you real y believe that?” said Maxie. “You don’t know them.”

“I’ve made up my mind,” said Blue. “I’ve listened to enough yak-yak-yak for one night. I’m going down there tomorrow to take a look. Check these squatter dudes out. I’l take anyone who wants to come with me. Anyone wants to stay here, that’s cool. I’m not forcing no one. But let’s see what these guys have got to say for themselves.”

“And how do you think they’re going to react when you go marching down there armed to the teeth?” said Whitney.

“We’l leave the heavy stuff behind,” said Blue. “We won’t take no spears or swords and knives. Only wooden tool handles—you know, ax handles, stuff like that. Just in case. If it does kick off we want to scare them, not kil them.”

“That sounds like a good enough plan,” said Ol ie. “I’m with you.”

“That sounds like a good enough plan,” said Ol ie. “I’m with you.”

“I stil don’t like it,” said Maxie. “But okay. Let’s at least check them out.”

C
alum was running around his track. A circuit of the supermarket floor, in and out of the aisles. He’d done sixteen laps and was going for twenty. He hadn’t slept wel , and even now it was barely light outside. He’d had a good day yesterday. He’d found a stash of old magazines he’d forgotten about, and leafing through them had helped take his mind off his loneliness. Before going to bed, he’d gone up to the crow’s nest to watch the sunset and to see if the grown-ups were stil hanging around.

They were.

Dumb jerks.

And then he’d seen a new grown-up arrive, and everything had changed.

He was a father. Fat and lumpy with boils. He wore shorts and an England vest with a cross of Saint George on it, and had little patches of hair sticking out from his huge bald head. So big it looked swol en. He had a pair of wire-framed glasses with no lenses in them and seemed more intel igent than the others, even having some sort of control over them. Cal um had never known grown-ups to have a leader before; they usual y just hunted in loose packs. This father seemed to be ral ying them, organizing them. He had even turned up with a weapon. Just a club, but it was something else Cal um hadn’t seen before.

The boss grown-up was surrounded by a little gang, some of whom also carried weapons. They were a mismatched bunch, but they stuck together.

One had a metal-shafted arrow through his shoulder, another had a Man. U. shirt, another had no shirt at al , only one arm, and his whole body was covered in blisters. The last one wore a filthy, pinstriped suit and appeared to have a Bluetooth earpiece embedded in his ear.

The worst thing was when the bald fat one looked up and met Cal um’s eye. He had seemed to smile.

Cal um had worried about them al night. They looked dangerous. And as soon as there had been enough light he had crept out onto the balcony to see if they were stil out there.

They were.

He stil had two bombs and various missiles ready. If these new grown-ups made a concerted effort to smash their way in, he’d just have to use al his firepower. For the time being al he could do was watch and wait.

He told himself he was just tired. That’s what his mother always used to say whenever he was cross or worried about something—“You’re just tired” or

“Have you had a glass of water?” or “Have some fruit, your blood sugar’s probably low. . . .”

The fat ass in the Saint George vest would get bored sooner or later and wander off. They always did. There was no point in getting worked up about it. He’d run a bit longer. That would help. Maybe thirty laps. Maybe forty. Maybe he’d just keep running forever.

B
lue yawned and looked up at the sky. It was a gray morning with thickening clouds. It wasn’t yet seven o’clock and it looked like one of those days that was going to turn nasty. There was a distant rumble of thunder, and he shivered. He’d rather have been in his bed right now, but there was work to be done.

They’d decided that the best time to go over to St. James’s Park and check out the squatters was first thing, when they’d al stil be asleep. Most of the fighters were going. Though Freak and Sophie’s team and a few others had opted out, Pod and Jester had joined them, with a squad of fighters from the palace.

“So what’s the deal with David?” Blue asked. “How come he ain’t with us?”

“He’s not real y a fighter,” said Pod. “He’s more of a leader, yeah?”

Achil eus wandered over, swinging a sledgehammer handle.

“And what about al those nerds in uniform?” he said.

“With the cool guns? How come they ain’t with us, neither?”

“If David wanted a show of strength, why didn’t he send them down?”

“With six guns and only about twenty bul ets between them?” said Pod. “They’re real y just for show. And besides, they need to stay behind and, you know, guard the palace,” said Pod. “If anyone, like, attacked while we were al out, it’d be a total disaster.”

“Tel us about the nerds,” said Achil eus. “What’s their story?”

“Al the boys you see in uniform were from the same boarding school,” said Jester. “Down in Surrey somewhere. When everything started to go wrong, David led them al up into town. We’d already set up here in the palace, but it was chaos. David sorted us al out. He was head boy before.”

“We used to play them at cricket,” said Pod. “Not me—I was a rugby player—but our school.”

“I suppose as he’d been to boarding school he knew how to organize kids,” said Jester. “Some of the boys he brought with him work in the gardens or the kitchens, but most stayed as the palace guard. I think they did army training and everything at school.”

“I stil don’t think they’re as good street fighters as you guys,” said Pod. “I’m real y looking forward to seeing you in action. I might pick up a few tips, yeah?”

“I’m hoping we won’t be going into action,” said Blue.

“No, of course not, not today at least,” said Pod.

“We were kind of hoping the fighting was over.”

“Come off of it,” said Jester. “You’d be bored stiff. You love fighting.”

Blue grunted. Could have been a yes or a no.

“Are we going, then?” asked Achil eus, anxious to be off.

“Guess so,” said Jester.

“Let’s move!” Blue shouted, and they tramped out through the gates.

As they passed the Victoria Memorial someone cal ed out. “Look at that.”

The memorial had been vandalized. The Queen’s face had been sprayed yel ow with two black eyes and a big smiley-face grin. And there, beautiful y stenciled to the plinth below her, was a message. Two big words, multicolored and vivid. They simply said: ARRAN LIVES

And under them the tag: FREAKY-DEAKY.

Maxie laughed when she saw it.

“How can Arran be alive, man?” said Achil eus. “I watched him burn.”

“It’s a message from Freak,” said Maxie. “Not to forget what Arran believed in.”

And there was Freak, standing at the top of the steps that led down from the statue, watching the kids troop past.

“Freak’s an idiot,” said Achil eus.

“Don’t you believe in anything, Akkie?”

“Looking out for number one.”

Maxie shook her head and broke away from the group. She ran up the steps to where Freak was waiting.

“Nice artwork.”

Freak shrugged.

“You don’t have to go, you know,” he said.

“I know. But someone needs to make sure the fighters don’t get carried away. It could easily become stupid.”

“Wel , good luck, and take care.” Freak hugged her.

“You too,” she said.

“I wish Arran was here,” Freak said quietly into her ear.

“Yeah,” said Maxie. “Now, I’d better go, or I’l be left behind.”

Freak watched her jog over to the others and catch up with the last of them as they went down into St. James’s Park.

He prayed they’d al come back.

Jester slapped Blue on the back. “You see?” he said. “This is where you belong, mate, at the head of an army. Not back in the palace doing al the boring crap. Watching vegetables grow. You’re a born general.”

“Maybe.”

There was a lake running the length of the park. The water level had dropped, but it stil contained a decent amount.

“Perfect for irrigating crops,” Jester explained. “Did you know? During the Second World War most of the parkland in London was turned over to al otments. There’s loads of space to grow stuff, easily enough to support the kids that are left. But you have to be secure or it won’t happen. Without security you’re reduced to scavenging, like you used to do, and like these squatters here have been doing.”

“Who are they exactly?” asked Achil eus.

“They turned up a couple of months ago,” said Jester. “Far as we know, they’d been wandering around London, taking stuff as they went. First thing they did when they got here was dig up al the crops we’d planted and eat them. If we try to go near and replant, they attack us. They don’t want anything to do with us. I mean, they’ve tried to grow new crops, but they don’t know what they’re doing.”

“They got someone in charge?” Blue asked.

“He’s cal ed John.”

“John what?”

“Just John.”

“Just John?”

“Yes. Just John.”

“Wel , this guy, Just John, what’s he like?”

“He’s hard to reason with,” said Jester. “Harder even than you, Blue, if you can imagine.”

“He’l reason with this,” said Achil eus, slapping his sledgehammer handle into the palm of his hand.

“No fighting if we can avoid it,” said Blue.

“Yeah, right.”

The first drops of rain started to fal .

“God’s policeman,” said Jester.

“Say what?”

“The police always used to pray for rain before any big demonstration, because people wouldn’t turn up. Nobody wants to riot in the streets if it’s pouring. Who’s going to want to fight in this?”

“Let’s hope,” said Blue.

Out on the right flank, Maxie put her hoodie up. It would keep some of the rain off, and her new leather jacket was reasonably waterproof. She glanced over at the main body of kids. Ol ie had left his position at the back and was making his way to the front. She wondered if everything was al right.

She watched as Ol ie approached Achil eus and said something. The two of them then broke away to the side to talk to each other in private.