The Dead Page 30

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why London, though?’ Jordan asked. ‘Wouldn’t you have been better off in the countryside?’

  ‘For the next few years we are going to be a scavenger society,’ said David. ‘Living off what the adults have left behind. This place, for instance, is full of weapons that we couldn’t hope to make ourselves. Not until we learn the skills.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘So London is the obvious place to come. The countryside will be fine when it’s safer, when the Strangers have all died off, when we can learn how to grow our own food. But at the moment it’s pretty terrible out there. Funnily enough it’s quieter here in town.’

  ‘You’ll find somewhere else to hole up,’ said Jordan.

  ‘I doubt we’ll find somewhere else with as good a supply of weapons, though.’

  ‘OK,’ said Jordan. ‘That’s what this is all about, then? Weapons?’

  ‘You’ve surely got more than you can use.’

  ‘Not necessarily. Who knows how things are going to go? Who knows what we might need in the future?’

  ‘Twenty rifles,’ said David. ‘That’s all I’m asking for. Give me twenty rifles. You must have hundreds here.’

  ‘What about bullets?’ said Jordan.

  ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

  ‘Most of these guns are useless. There’s no ammo for them. We did find some others in the armoury, and some bullets, but I ain’t Father Christmas.’

  ‘Well, then, if some of the guns aren’t any use to you,’ said David, ‘why not give them to us and let us worry about ammunition?’

  ‘If I give you guns, will you move on?’ Jordan asked, but David wasn’t listening. He had his head cocked to one side.

  ‘Can you hear that?’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Sounds like shouting.’

  64

  A huge argument was raging in the atrium. David’s boys against Jordan’s. It seemed that with their leaders not around both crews had lost all their discipline. There was a lot of childish name-calling going on. David’s boys were from a privileged public school; Jordan’s boys were mostly from the local estates. No one was quite sure what had started it, but there was now a fierce slanging match going on with both sides insulting the other in the crudest possible way.

  David and Jordan came down the stairs shouting and trying to restore some sense of order. But the argument had been allowed to get out of hand and there was no easy way of stopping it. The two sides were acting like rival football teams who had got into a fight on the pitch and were using Jordan and David like referees. And the coach-party kids were acting as spectators, nudging each other and pointing, enjoying the spectacle.

  It looked like there were going to be a few red cards today. The big rugby player, Pod, was particularly angry.

  ‘You have to get them to apologize, David,’ he kept saying, and David kept ignoring him.

  In the end David lost his cool and snapped at him.

  ‘Just shut up, Pod!’ he shouted. ‘All of you shut up.’

  The noise died down a little.

  ‘What have you two decided, anyway?’ Pod asked. ‘Although to tell you the truth I don’t really want to stay here with this bunch of morons.’

  ‘Loser,’ someone shouted.

  ‘We hadn’t finished talking if you must know,’ said David, sounding calmer.

  ‘Can’t they give us some guns and we’ll get going?’ said Pod.

  ‘Yeah, get lost!’ came a voice from the crowd.

  ‘There’s a lot to sort out,’ said David. ‘And you lot aren’t making it very easy for me. You’re behaving like a bunch of kids.’

  ‘David,’ said Andy, the guy with the big nose, ‘we are kids.’

  ‘I won’t have you fighting like this. I can sort things out, but I have to be able to leave you alone for five minutes without you fighting.’

  ‘They started it,’ said Pod.

  ‘We did not!’

  ‘It might not matter, anyways,’ said DogNut, coming in from the front entranceway. ‘You’d better come take a look at this.’

  65

  Ed, Jordan, David and DogNut were on the roof of the museum. The sky was almost completely covered by roiling black smoke, which was visibly spreading from the south-east, like ink staining a bowl of water. There was a roaring, crackling sound like a distant waterfall and they could see great flames leaping into the sky in the distance. The hot wind carried ash and cinders. Birds were flying past, and skinny moth-eaten dogs were appearing, trotting along the roads with their tails between their legs.

  ‘The fire’s driving them this way,’ said David.

  ‘Is getting serious,’ said DogNut.

  ‘We’re in open ground here, aren’t we?’ Ed asked. ‘I mean, the park goes all the way round, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Not at the back,’ said Jordan. ‘We’re close to some other buildings there. If the fire gets really out of control, it could spread to the museum. I guess we could maybe try and fight it off somehow.’

  ‘The thing is, though,’ said David, ‘if everything around you burned down, you wouldn’t want to stay here, would you? It would be a wasteland.’

  ‘At least there’d be no sickos left,’ said Ed.

  ‘There’d be nothing,’ said David. ‘You’d be stranded here.’

  ‘We’re not leaving,’ said Jordan. ‘We fought hard for this place.’

  ‘But you said yourself it could catch fire,’ said Ed.

  ‘We’ll take that risk.’

  ‘For real?’ DogNut was alarmed. ‘I do not like fire, captain. I’m telling you, if them flames get too close, I am out of here.’

  ‘DogNut’s right,’ said Ed. ‘I saw what happened at the Oval. When a fire gets hot enough, it just burns everything.’

  ‘Maybe the wind will drop?’ said Jordan. ‘Change direction.’

  This was the first time Ed had seen Jordan show any doubt, any hesitation.

  ‘I saw a programme about bush fires once,’ said David, staring at the sky. ‘In California and Australia. Whole towns just turned to ash and rubble. Cities rely on fire brigades. Without them fires can spread unchecked, and there’s nothing you can do to stop them. I’m taking my boys and I’m going. But first you’re going to give us some guns, Jordan. There’s no point in leaving them here to get burned.’

  ‘I’m with David,’ said Ed. ‘I’m going to at least get ready to pull out. You should too, Jordan. Pack everything up, put it on the lorry if you want.’

  ‘I can’t leave the museum.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Jordan. Look at that! The whole horizon’s covered with fire. You can always come back afterwards. See if the museum’s still standing. I’m not risking it, though. I’m going to start loading our food back on to the lorry. If it looks too hairy, we’ll head north, across the river. At least the Thames will stop the fire spreading any further. Honestly, Jordan, just let it burn itself out and come back when it’s all over.’

  ‘I’m not leaving.’

  66

  After the dogs came the children. A steady trickle of them, heading for the bridges. Boys and girls, bedraggled, exhausted, terrified. In small groups mostly, some riding bikes, some pushing shopping trolleys full of belongings, quite a few with suitcases on wheels, a handful packed into cars, driving slowly down the choked streets.

  Jordan posted guards at all the entrances to the museum to stop anyone from trying to break in, but nobody wanted to stop. They’d seen the fire, they knew what it was capable of and just wanted to get well away.

  Ed organized the coach party into a team and they grabbed all the food they’d carefully unloaded the day before and packed it back on to the lorry along with their sleeping bags and blankets. DogNut helped, and stayed outside with Ed making sure no passing kids nicked anything. Twice a small group of tough nuts made a detour and came over for a look, but when they saw the boys’ weapons they carried on by, jeering and throwing things.

  One
group, though, three boys and a girl, stopped and asked for water. Ed gave them a bottle and asked them for details about the fire.

  ‘We was hiding out in a tower block down Brixton,’ said one of the boys. ‘There was loads of us there. Last night the fire lit up the whole sky. This morning you could see it. We was up high and you could watch it jumping from building to building. There ain’t nothing gonna stop it. You getting out?’

  ‘Probably,’ said Ed.

  ‘Don’t wait too long, man. It moves fast. It’s a firestorm. If it gets close, you can’t outrun it. We’re getting over the river, take our chances on the north side, though I’ve always hated north London. It’s just that now, well there ain’t hardly no south London left.’

  ‘Honestly,’ said the girl. ‘Don’t leave it too late. There’s crazies back there. Thousands of them, being driven up this way by the fire. Every last one in south London most likely.’

  Wiki and Jibber-jabber were arranging the food in the back of the lorry with Zohra and Froggie.

  ‘Could we be burned?’ said Froggie, his big bulging eyes wider than ever.

  ‘Yes,’ said Wiki.

  ‘Will the whole of London be burned?’

  ‘Probably not. The wind will drop, or it might rain, then there’s the river that acts as a natural firebreak. But in the Great Fire of London in 1666 thirteen thousand houses went up in smoke. There were eighty thousand people living here then. About seventy thousand of them lost their homes. In 1906 in San Francisco twenty-five thousand buildings were destroyed by fire – admittedly there had been an earthquake as well, but even so.’

  Ed came round to see how they were getting on. He had the rest of the coach party with him. There was Kwanele, wheeling his suitcase, immaculate in an admiral’s uniform he’d found. Chris Marker followed, for once not reading a book. Justin the nerd was carrying a Sten gun for protection. It had no bullets in it but looked menacing enough and gave him a feeling of security. Then came Mad Matt and Archie and the acolytes, carrying their ridiculous banner. The scab on Matt’s forehead was really gungy now but he displayed it proudly as a badge of honour. Bringing up the rear were Brooke, Courtney and Aleisha, quieter than normal, subdued and fearful.

  Brooke nodded towards the kids that were streaming along the roads.

  ‘See, Aleisha,’ she said. ‘We ain’t alone. I told you.’

  They all crowded nervously round, watching the skies. Ed shouted to get their attention.

  ‘There’s only twenty-three of us left.’ Word had got round about Jack and Bam although it was clear Ed didn’t want to talk about it. ‘And we’re not going to lose any more. OK? So this is how it is. The fire’s spreading this way and spreading fast.’

  ‘We’re moving north,’ said Matt, sounding very sure of himself. ‘We were never meant to stay here. The Lamb has sent the fire.’

  ‘Please, Matt …’

  ‘We have to cross the river and go to the temple in the city, to St Paul’s. Isn’t it obvious?’

  ‘No, it’s not bloody obvious.’ Ed was trying not to lose his temper. ‘Why would we want to go to St Paul’s? We’ll decide where we’re going when we get across the river.’

  ‘We should hurry,’ said Froggie. ‘I don’t want to get burned up.’

  ‘There’s a few things I need to do before we leave,’ said Ed.

  ‘We’re going to St Paul’s,’ Matt insisted.

  ‘Shut up. Let me finish!’ Ed glared at Matt until he was sure he wouldn’t interrupt again, then went on. ‘Kwanele, I want you to go and find Jordan, tell him if he wants to load anything on to here he’d better hurry, OK? Justin, I need to talk to you and Wiki about something inside. The rest of you stay with the lorry.’

  ‘We need to rescue the books,’ said Chris.

  ‘What books?’

  ‘There’s a whole library of books up there. I’ll need everyone to help me save the most useful.’

  ‘We don’t need books now, Chris.’

  ‘Yes we do,’ said Chris bluntly. ‘If we want to survive we need knowledge. And books contain knowledge. Trust me. Books will save our lives just as much as weapons.’

  ‘All right, all right. Brooke, you’re in charge of helping Chris. The three of you, go with him, bring down what he wants and load them on to one of these empty cages. Just one, OK? Then get it on to the lorry. Don’t argue with him. Don’t take the piss. Just do it.’

  ‘Sure thing, boss.’

  ‘And be quick, it’s getting late.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Who does that leave to guard the lorry?’

  ‘We’ll do it,’ said Matt.

  ‘You?’

  ‘We’re well armed.’

  Indeed, Ed saw that Matt and his followers had got themselves some guns and were loaded down with knives and swords.

  ‘All right,’ said Ed, ‘but don’t get any stupid ideas about leaving without me.’ He turned to Justin. ‘Come with me. We need to talk.’

  67

  ‘Frédérique’s gone. I guess you all know what happened to her?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Jibber-jabber.

  Ed was in the museum shop with Justin and Wiki. Jibber-jabber had insisted on coming along as well. He and Wiki couldn’t be separated, and now he was off on one of his breathless monologues.

  ‘She got the sickness, she went nuts and tried to eat Froggie. You see, like, a wild cat? That’s what she looked like, it was really scary, not as scary as when Greg went psycho on the bus, but it wasn’t nice at all, she must have lied to us about her age.’

  ‘We never asked her,’ said Ed. ‘We just assumed.’

  ‘It explains a lot,’ said Justin.

  ‘Exactly. She’s nearly sixteen.’

  ‘What’s going to happen to her?’ asked Wiki.

  ‘God knows,’ said Ed. ‘She’s on her own now. She went for me while I was trying to talk to her. She seemed almost sort of normal at first. Why is it that when they get sick all they want to do is attack us?’

  ‘Is that what you wanted to talk to us about?’ said Justin.

  ‘Well, the main thing is …’ Ed paused, not sure if he should carry on.

  ‘What?’

  ‘OK. But you’ve got to promise not to tell anyone else.’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Next week’s my birthday,’ said Ed. ‘I’m going to be fifteen. What I’m asking is – am I going to get sick like Frédérique?’

  The other three just sat there staring at him. Ed pressed on.

  ‘I mean – what happens to us as we get older? Are we all going to become sickos?’

  Still the others just sat there in silence.

  ‘Come on,’ said Ed. ‘Say something.’

  ‘We don’t know, Ed,’ said Justin. ‘How can we know?’

  ‘You must have some ideas.’

  ‘Well …’ Justin bit his lip. ‘OK. If I had to say either way, I’d say it doesn’t look too bad for you.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You have to look at the evidence,’ said Wiki.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, what evidence?’

  ‘We’ve been talking about this in the Brains Trust,’ said Justin. ‘Sometimes when you talk about something it makes it less frightening. So we’ve been talking about why the sickos want to eat children.’

  ‘Yeah, I can see how that might make Froggie a little less frightened,’ said Ed sarcastically.

  ‘It does, actually,’ said Justin. ‘If you can understand something, you can control it. Now, there’s obviously something different between us and the sickos.’

  ‘Yeah, just a bit,’ said Jibber-jabber. ‘They’re nuts!’

  ‘And we’ve thought about it in a Darwinian way,’ Justin went on, ignoring Jibber-jabber.

  ‘Get to the point,’ said Ed. ‘We haven’t got long. What’s a Darwinian way?’

  ‘Survival of the fittest. Genetics, mating rituals, alpha males, queen bees, ant colonies, all the sort of stuff you get in a David Attenborough series.’

/>   ‘What’s that got to do with me being fifteen?’

  ‘We’re animals just the same as any other,’ said Justin. ‘And everything we do is to survive. Sickos as well.’

  ‘Put it like this,’ said Wiki. ‘Whatever the sickos do – it’s not random. So we have to assume that the sickos eat us in order to survive.’

  ‘Oh, bloody hell, we know that!’ Ed tried not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the conversation. Wiki and Justin being so serious and wannabe scientific. ‘They need to eat something, so they try to eat us.’

  ‘But why us?’ said Justin. ‘Why, out of all the available food sources, do the sickos choose us first? I mean, from what we can gather, if there’s no children around they’ll eat other things to survive – rats and cats and dead pigeons – any food they can find. Crisps even, I suppose, if they could get the packs open. But given the choice they’d rather eat children. Even though we fight back. Even though we kill them. Offer them a nice steak and chips and they’re not interested, they’ll try to bite your hand off and eat that instead.’

  ‘Yeah, OK. I get that.’

  ‘Well,’ said Justin, twining his fingers together like some crusty old school teacher. He was really enjoying this. ‘In the wild, animals know what to eat and what not to eat. There’s no food labelling, no sell-by dates, no nutritional advice or cookery programmes for them. They even eat some things as a sort of medicine.’

  ‘You see my dog?’ said Jibber-jabber. ‘He used to eat grass to make himself sick, he’d chew away at it then cough it up, he used to look quite funny, but it was still disgusting.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Justin. ‘A lot of animals do things like that. They don’t know why they do it, but they do. They have an impulse. Their bodies seem to know what they need even if their brains don’t.’

  ‘Are you saying that the sickos need to eat us, somehow?’ Ed asked, getting interested now. ‘To survive?’

  ‘That would seem to be the most obvious answer,’ said Justin. ‘Let’s look at the facts.’ He counted on his fingers. ‘One – as soon as anyone gets the disease, what’s the first thing they do?’