Young Bond: The Dead - Young Bond: The Dead Part 20
Library

Young Bond: The Dead Part 20

'And how long is your food gonna last?' Jack asked.

'It'll get us through the winter if we're careful. With any luck, when it warms up, all the adults will have died off and we can go out and get more.'

'We only being reasonable,' said DogNut. 'We looking after number one. That's how it works now, blood.'

'Have you turned other people away?' Bam asked. He was bruised from his fight on the bus, and had a gash in one cheek, as well as a nasty wound in his left hand where Greg had bitten him.

'A few,' said Jordan Hordern.

'Well, you're not throwing us out.' Bam sat down in the middle of their game, crushing a battalion of German soldiers.

'Oh, don't do that,' DogNut moaned. 'I was winning for once.'

'We're not leaving,' said Bam. 'You can try and make us, but we're staying put.'

Jordan Hordern stared dispassionately at Bam for a few seconds then clapped his hands together. Five more of his boys came over. They were carrying swords and truncheons.

'Come off it,' Jack scoffed. 'It's one thing hiding in here and not opening the doors to a few stray kids, it's another thing to actually kill them. Is that what you think you're gonna do? Kill all twenty-five of us? Or maybe you were thinking you might just beat us up and throw our bleeding, semi-conscious bodies out of a window.'

'Wait up,' Brooke interrupted, jutting her jaw out at Jordan Hordern. 'You said there's ten of you, yeah?'

'Yes.'

'Are you all boys, then?'

'What of it?'

Brooke laughed. 'Then we got something you need,' she said, eyeing Jordan defiantly.

'What?'

Brooke made a display of herself, arms out to her sides, and said, 'Ta-daa!'

'Broo-ooke!' Aleisha rolled her eyes, scandalized.

'I don't mean like that,' said Brooke. 'You got a dirty mind, Aleisha. I just mean we got skills that might come in useful.'

'Yeah, I can think of a few,' DogNut sniggered.

'In your dreams,' Brooke sneered.

'You already are,' said DogNut.

'We don't need girls,' said Jordan Hordern.

'Whoa-whoa-whoa, wait a minute,' said DogNut, dancing on the spot and dropping his blanket. Underneath it he was wearing a brown leather American flying jacket, a screaming eagle painted on its back. 'Let's not be too hasty here. She does have a point, Jordan.'

'No, she doesn't. We're not taking in any more. Now get them out of here so we can finish our game.'

Jack exploded with rage. He barged his way over to Jordan and leant over him, jabbing a finger in his face.

'You're worse than the bloody grown-ups. You know that? At least they don't know what they're doing. You're just cold. We've got little kids with us eight, nine years old you gonna smash their brains out, are you? You gonna cut us all up? Well, you can bloody try. We've climbed a mountain of crap in the last two days and we're not gonna go down without a fight. We're not asking to come and live with you forever in your precious bloody museum. We just need shelter until we can get ourselves sorted.'

'Don't point at me,' said Jordan. 'I don't like people pointing at me.'

'Oh, don't you? So why don't you get one of your little soldier boys to hack my finger off? Cos I don't think you've got the balls to do it yourself, have you?'

At that, Jordan threw off his blankets and stood up. He was wearing a smart black officer's uniform, complete with gold braid and medals. He was taller than Jack and moved like an athlete. Before Jack could react Jordan had grabbed his wrist and was twisting it to the side.

Jack winced, evidently in a lot of pain. Jordan kept on turning his wrist, forcing Jack to the ground. Jack tried to pull away but Jordan held him with an iron grip. Once Jack was on his knees Jordan spoke, his voice low and quiet.

'I don't care what you say to me, I don't care what you think about me, but don't ever point at me again. All right?'

'All right, all right, you can stop now. I've got the general idea.'

Jordan squeezed harder. Jack yelped.

Now Ed spoke out. 'I think this has got a bit out of hand,' he said. 'We should all calm down and talk about it.'

Jordan looked round at Ed without letting go of Jack.

Ed went on. 'Jack's right. All we need is somewhere to stay until we've worked out what we're going to do. Maybe only for one night. Maybe not even that. OK? You don't need to give us any food if you don't want. We're not trying to take over or anything. We all just ran in here after a fight to get away. There's still sickos out there.'

Jack gasped. He was kneeling on the tiles, his lips pulled back in a grimace of pain.

'Can we at least just talk about this sensibly?' Ed pleaded.

Jordan let go of Jack, who rolled away and sat down against a tank, rubbing his arm.

'I'll think about it,' said Jordan. 'We'll finish our game, then we'll talk. You can have some water, but no food. Sort yourselves out and I'll listen to what you've got to say. I'm only going to talk to one of you, though. Who's in charge?'

'Nobody,' said Ed.

'Then I'm appointing you.' Jordan turned back to his game and started straightening the troops that had got knocked over.

30.

'Let's get this out in the open.' Ed banged his hands on a tabletop. 'And then I don't want to hear any more about it. Not from you, Bam, not from Jack, not from anyone.' Ed looked around, daring the other kids to catch his eye.

They were all in the museum cafe, off to the side of the atrium, spread out among the tables. The place had been ransacked and no one at the museum had bothered to tidy up; there was litter everywhere.

The Brains Trust was sitting shivering at one table Justin the nerd, Jibber-jabber, Wiki, Zohra and Froggie. Mad Matt was with Archie Bishop and the other kids from the chapel. There was an ugly black and red scab across Matt's forehead where Greg's ring had raked his skin. Brooke, Courtney and Aleisha sat in one corner, in a cloud of perfume and attitude. Chris Marker was by himself. He had inevitably gone back to reading his book, but the others viewed him differently after what he'd done to Greg on the bus. He wasn't totally useless. Jack, Ed and Frederique were at another table with Bam. Bam was the only one of the rugby players still alive, and he'd obviously been hit hard by Piers' death. This was the first time anyone had seen him down and lacking his cheery optimism. Kwanele sat by himself, straight-backed and defiant.

While they'd been waiting in here Bam had been on at Ed and Kwanele non-stop about leaving Piers behind, and Ed had had enough.

'Have any of you ever tried to carry someone who was unconscious?' he asked. 'People are heavy. Piers was heavy. Greg came after us and Piers' body got caught on something. If I'd stayed any longer, Greg would have got me, and then the other sickos outside would have made it on to the bus and that would have been that. And why? Because you lot had all scarpered and left me to it. Thanks.'

Kwanele obviously thought Ed was referring to him.

'Piers was badly wounded,' he protested. 'He probably would not have lived anyway, not without proper medicine, and doctors and things like that.'

'So that's it, is it?' said Bam. 'Like DogNut or whatever his name is out there said, look out for number one. If you're hurt, forget it.'

'It wasn't just Kwanele,' Ed shouted. 'You all left me behind.'

'We were fighting off sickos,' said Bam. 'I was trying to get everyone to safety.'

'Exactly,' said Ed. 'We've all got excuses.'

There was a long silence before Bam spoke.

'All right,' he said. 'Maybe we were all to blame. It happened too fast.'

'It's basic survival now,' said Ed. 'Getting from one day to another. This place is well defended, standing alone, with open ground all around, and it's stuffed full of weapons. It would be a perfect place to set up camp. But someone else got here first and we can't expect them to look after us.'

'I don't want to stay here anyway,' said Jack. 'I want to get home.'

'Then why the hell were you arguing so much with Jordan bloody Hordern?'

'He wound me up,' said Jack. 'I don't like anyone talking to me like that.'

'I don't want to stay here, either,' said Matt. 'I need to carry on to St Paul's. It's been ordained that '

'Give it a rest, Matt,' said Ed. 'We're fed up of hearing about your bloody made-up religion.'

'It's not made up.'

'Yes it is. Nothing has been ordained. It's all come out of your head.'

'And what about this, then?' said Matt, angrily tapping his forehead.

'What about what?'

'The mark of the Lamb.'

'It's a scab, Matt.'

'It's the mark of the Lamb.'

Ed laughed harshly, using his laughter like a weapon.

'It doesn't matter whether you believe us, anyway,' said Archie Bishop. 'We want to carry on to St Paul's. With or without you lot it doesn't make any difference.'

'Doesn't make any difference?' Ed scoffed. 'You'll be murdered out there by yourselves.'

'The Lamb will protect us.'

There were groans from the other tables and people started throwing things at Matt. Old discarded coffee cups, screwed-up paper, empty cigarette packets.

Matt tried not to react, as if he was above it all, but they could tell he was getting riled.

'What does anyone else want to do?' Ed asked when things had calmed down a little.

'We want to stay with you,' said Wiki. 'We'll go wherever you say you want to go. If we keep together, it'll be safer. Like when fish form into shoals. Even though they're a bigger target, individually they're safer, and harder for predators to focus on. The chances of being picked out from a big swirling mass are less than if they're swimming alone.'

'Thank you, David Attenborough,' said Jack, trying to cut him off.

'We could find another building to shelter in,' said Jibber-jabber. 'There's loads of places near the museum, I came here once with my dad, we had to park miles away and walk, there's all sorts of houses, I bet if we explored we could find something great, we don't need to stay here, I don't like Jordan Hordern or any of them, actually, although I liked the look of that game they were playing, I like toy soldiers, at home I've got hundreds, and now we've got our own gun and maybe they'll let us have some weapons from the museum, we could be like a commando squad, you're good fighters and '

'Not all of us,' said Bam darkly, looking at Kwanele.

'I never said I was a fighter,' Kwanele protested.

'I thought we weren't going to go on about that.' Ed sounded tired and fed up.

'Sorry.' Bam bowed his head.

Frederique suddenly let out a sob and collapsed face down on the tabletop, crying. Jack and Ed both put a hand on her, trying to comfort her. She was tugging at her hair, hysterical.

'What's the matter with her?' said Brooke snottily, and Aleisha jabbed her with an elbow.

'What?' said Brooke. 'I only asked what was the matter.'

'What do you think?' said Ed. 'If we weren't all trying so hard to act tough, we'd all be face down on the table crying like babies. Because that's all we are. Just babies. This is all too much for any of us to handle.'

'I ain't crying,' said Brooke. 'I ain't giving up.'

Jack clapped sarcastically. 'Well done, you.'

'It's stupid,' said Frederique. 'We are all going to die. What's the point of all this talking? Why must we argue?' She raised her head. Her face was blotchy and streaked with tears. 'Why do we need to find somewhere safe? Why do we need to do anything? We are all going to die. I thought there was some hope. Greg was not ill. I thought if just one adult was not ill there was hope for us. But he is ill, and there is no hope ...'

Frederique was crying so much she started to choke, and she crumpled down again, weeping, choking, coughing and spluttering.

'Cheery soul, ain't she?' said Brooke, and Aleisha elbowed her again.

The big glass door opened and DogNut came in.

'OK, listen up,' he said, clapping his hands together. 'Jordan Hordern's made a decision.' He pointed at Ed. 'You, wossyourname ...'

'Ed.'