Godzilla was overexcited, crouching down, jumping up, bounding around in circles, barking like mad at the chickens and the children.
‘They’re all outside at the moment,’ Wiki explained, ‘because it’s feeding time. They know when I come they’ll get fed.’
‘How many are there in there?’ Ella asked, and before Wiki could reply Bill held up some stringy bits of Blu-tack he’d formed into numbers.
47.
Wiki looked at him. Confused.
‘How did you know that?’
Bill said nothing, stared at his shoes and balled the Blu-tack up.
‘He’s a fast counter,’ said Monkey-Boy.
‘I can never count them,’ said Wiki. ‘They move around too much. Maybe you could be our official chicken counter, Bill!’
Bill carried on staring at his shoes. He didn’t like the chickens. They were dirty and scruffy and disorganized. Feathers everywhere. And it hurt his brain the way they wouldn’t keep still. Plastic dinosaurs you could put in a line and they wouldn’t move. He’d had a box of them in his room at home. They were clean and smooth and every one of them was a different colour.
‘Did you know that chickens are dinosaurs?’ said Wiki.
Bill frowned. That couldn’t be right.
‘You’re joking,’ said Ella.
‘No,’ said Wiki. ‘It’s true. They reckon the dinosaurs didn’t exactly die out, they evolved into birds. So, in a way, a chicken is a dinosaur.’
Bill frantically shaped his Blu-tack into a nice neat circle. He didn’t want to think that those great prehistoric monsters had ended up as chickens. That wasn’t fair.
Another kid came over to join them. He’d been talking to some older boys who were clustered round the lorry.
‘What you doing?’ he asked.
‘Just showing them the chickens,’ said Wiki, and he introduced everyone.
‘This is Arthur,’ he explained to them, ‘but everyone just calls him Jibber-jabber. He’s kind of like the opposite to you, Bill. You haven’t said a word, but Jibber never stops gibbering.’
‘That’s not true actually,’ said Jibber-jabber. ‘I stop to eat.’
‘Not always.’
‘And anyway what’s wrong with talking?’ Jibber-jabber went on. ‘It’s what separates man from the animals, we’re not like these chickens, they just cluck, yeah? Which is why we can take their eggs, you see that movie, Chicken Run, where the chickens gang up together and escape from the farm? I don’t know, I think they were going to be made into this, like, super pie, or something, and they get together and make an escape plan like prisoners of war, and they all fly out of there, well, you see, that would never happen in real life, because chickens can’t talk to each other, they just cluck, like I said, and without being able to talk you can’t get organized, see this place, this museum? It would never have been built by chickens, the only way it could ever get done was by people talking to each other, I don’t know exactly, but, you know, like, the architect and the builders and the labourers, the people who made the bricks and the scaffolders, that’s why we’ll beat the adults in the end, because they’ve lost the power to communicate with each other.’
‘Will we?’ said Ella. ‘Beat them, I mean. Will we really?’
‘Of course we will,’ said Jibber-jabber. ‘They’re just dumb animals, like big stupid chickens.’ And he strutted around, impersonating a chicken, which made Ella laugh.
‘So they’re dinosaurs?’ said Monkey-Boy. ‘That’s pretty scary, like in Jurassic Park.’
‘They’re not chickens and they’re not dinosaurs,’ said Jibber-jabber. ‘They’re just sick, sickos, crazies, zomboids …’
‘See what I mean?’ Wiki interrupted before Jibber-jabber went off on another one. ‘He never stops.’
‘Well, you like to talk as well, Wiki,’ Jibber-jabber protested.
‘I talk sense,’ said Wiki.
‘Why do they call you Wiki?’ asked Monkey-Boy.
‘Cos he’s like Wikipedia,’ said Jibber-jabber. ‘Ask him anything and he knows the answer, or thinks he does, it’s quite annoying sometimes.’
‘The difference between you and me,’ said Wiki, ‘is that I only speak when I’m sure I know something. You do all your thinking out loud.’
‘Yeah, whatever.’
‘So anyway,’ said Wiki, turning to Ella, ‘what are you lot good at? I know about him, old Blu-Tack Bill, he’s good at counting.’
‘Counting?’ said Jibber-jabber. ‘Oh yeah, I can see how that’s going to be a really useful skill! I hope the rest of you can offer a little more.’ He looked at Ella. ‘What about you? What are you good at?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Ella. ‘Nothing really.’
‘That can’t be true,’ said Jibber-jabber. ‘You’ve lived more than a year since it all went opera-shaped, so you must have some skills, otherwise you’d be like most other kids, pushing up the daisies, knocking on heaven’s door, sicko food …’
‘No. I’m not really good at anything,’ said Ella and she started to cry. She walked away from the group and stood at the end of the chicken run with her back to them.
‘What’s the matter with her?’ asked Wiki.
‘Her little brother got killed the other day,’ said Monkey-Boy. ‘Some grown-ups took him away in a sack.’
‘Harsh,’ said Jibber-jabber. ‘Didn’t mean to upset her.’
‘I was going to say staying alive,’ said Monkey-Boy.
‘What do you mean?’ Wiki asked.
‘I was going to say that we were good at staying alive,’ Monkey-Boy explained. ‘But in the last few days quite a lot of us have got killed.’
‘Some of our lot died last night as well,’ said Wiki. ‘Me and Jibber nearly did too; we were stuck in the library and some sickos got in. Best not to think about it really, so thanks, Jibber-jabber, for going on about being killed and eaten.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Jibber-jabber, sounding more angry than sorry. ‘I didn’t know.’
‘You see?’ said Wiki. ‘You talk and talk, but you don’t think.’
Bill was concentrating on his Blu-tack. His mind was spinning, full of mixed-up dinosaurs and chickens and grown-ups. He hated it when people were sad, or angry, like Ella and Jibber-jabber. That’s why he liked fossils. They were only ever one thing, one way. Stone.
He had moulded himself a chicken. A bald chicken. Smooth. It helped a little, made the chickens in the pen less frightening. He squashed it before any of the others saw it, though. He didn’t want them saying how good it was and could they have a go at making something.
It wasn’t a toy.
Sometimes he wanted to be completely alone, so he walked away from the others and got into one of the parked cars. Sat there, comforted by the dashboard, the gear lever, the steering wheel … Wished his own body was like a car and he could sit at the controls in his head.
He closed his eyes.
Everything was all right.
Wasn’t it?
10
Justin and Jackson were looking in the back of the supermarket lorry with Boggle.
‘No sicko could have unlocked it,’ said Boggle, examining the padlock, which hadn’t been forced. It was quite obvious that someone had used a key. ‘It’s definitely sabotage. No doubt about it, man. Someone’s gone round letting all the sickos out, and letting them all in, if you take my meaning.’
‘You know what I think?’ said Justin.
‘What?’
‘I think David’s behind it.’
‘David?’ Boggle looked amazed. ‘How? He’s all the way over at Buckingham Palace.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Justin. ‘But it’s the sort of thing he’d do. Ever since that kid DogNut turned up the other day things have been weird.’
‘You know he got killed?’ said Jackson.
‘What?’ Now it was Justin’s turn to look amazed.
‘Brooke told me,’ Jackson went on. ‘After we were ambushed at Green
Park I got back safely with Robbie and Ethan, but I had to leave DogNut, Courtney and Brooke behind. Brooke was the only one made it. She’s been at Buckingham Palace apparently. She was quite badly hurt. It’s where she met the others. These Holloway kids.’
‘At the palace?’
‘Yeah.’
Justin gave Boggle a ‘told you so’ look and fell silent.
‘So what do we do about it then?’ said Boggle once it was clear that Justin wasn’t going to say anything else. ‘If we do have a saboteur?’
‘What can we do?’ said Justin. ‘Keep an eye on everyone. Listen to what they’re saying, see if anyone’s acting any different.’
‘Why would anyone do it, though?’ said Jackson, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘Why would anyone want to hurt the rest of us? It’s crazy, you calmly talking about a saboteur. It doesn’t make any sense.’
‘Crazy is right,’ said Boggle.
‘Who’s missing exactly?’ said Justin.
‘You mean missing or dead?’ said Jackson.
‘I mean both,’ said Justin.
‘Five,’ said Jackson. ‘Two missing, three dead. Would have probably been a lot more if Brooke hadn’t shown up with the new kids. I can’t believe that somebody here just, basically, killed five of us.’
‘Who’s dead?’ said Justin, trying to ignore Jackson.
‘That we know of for sure?’ said Jackson, her voice shaking with emotion. ‘So far we’ve found the bodies of Jason Hickley, Emma Hudson and James Stornay.’
‘We’re going to take them up to Hyde Park and burn them,’ said Boggle. ‘If we bury ’em they’ll just be dug up.’
‘So who’s missing then?’
‘Paul Channing and Stacey Norman.’
‘Five in one night,’ said Justin, clenching and unclenching his fists over and over again. ‘That’s really not good.’
‘None of this is good,’ said Jackson. ‘But it’s not your fault, Justin.’
‘It could have been a whole lot worse,’ said Boggle.
‘I know.’ Justin was still clenching his fists. ‘But it was bad timing, with Robbie out of action.’
‘Bad timing or good timing?’ said Jackson. ‘Those new kids turning up made all the difference.’
‘Don’t you think perhaps it was a bit too lucky?’ said Justin.
‘What was?’
‘Those kids arriving last night, just after the sickos got through. Saving us. Being heroes. They’ve come straight here from the palace and we’ve welcomed them in …’
‘Come off it, Justin,’ said Boggle. ‘Now you’re being paranoid. Just because they were at the palace …’
‘Am I?’ Justin interrupted. ‘We can’t trust them. We have to be very careful. First DogNut, and now this new lot, who we know nothing about …’
‘Well, if DogNut was some kind of spy for David,’ said Jackson, fighting the rising passion in her voice, ‘you don’t have to worry about him any more, do you? Unless you think his dying was some sort of clever plan.’
‘I’m sorry, Jackson …’
‘He saved my life,’ said Jackson. ‘Me and Robbie and Ethan. He held the sickos back so that we could get away. I’ve never run from a fight in my life, but I had to save Robbie. So don’t you ever say anything about DogNut ever again. OK?’
‘OK. OK. As I say, I’m sorry.’
‘You better be.’
11
Achilleus was only just waking up. He’d slept long and deep, untroubled by dreams, but as soon as he woke his body told him it wasn’t happy. He felt like he’d been run over by a steamroller. He ached everywhere, his stiff muscles solid and creaky. The fight at the palace had taken more out of him than he’d realized at the time. His ear was the worst. Just John had cut it half off with his evil three-bladed spear, and that girl at the palace, Rose, the nurse, had clumsily stitched it back on. Now it burned and throbbed so intensely it made him feel sick.
He needed some heavy-duty painkillers, and he needed them fast. The bed was warm and soft, though. He could lie here forever. Wait for the pain to flow away. Maybe if he could go back to sleep …
‘Hi there, how’s it going?’ Achilleus couldn’t turn his head. His neck had seized up. He didn’t recognize the voice. A girl’s voice.
‘Been better.’
‘They thought it was best to let you kip.’
‘They thought right.’
‘Hurts, huh?’ The girl leant over him, far enough for him to see who it was. A bandage covered half her head. What he could see of her face was bruised and swollen.
‘You’re the girl we rescued from the park, right?’
‘Yeah. My name’s Brooke.’
‘Yo, Brooke. I’m Achilleus.’
‘I know. Everyone knows. You made enough noise about it last night.’
‘True that.’ Achilleus sniggered.
‘You like bigging yourself up?’
‘Wasn’t no bigging up. Just telling it like it is, yeah.’
‘Well, Mister Big, you and me have got something in common.’
‘Yeah? And what’s that?’
‘We both got pretty slapped about. Man, we are flattened. In my case it was sickos, but I hear you was swinging with another kid.’
‘Yeah, the wiry tosser cut me up with his spear and put a few, like, dents in my skull with his shield.’
‘I bet it hurts.’
‘Like a bastard.’
‘Me too.’ Brooke sat on the edge of Achilleus’ bed.
‘Got bitten?’ Achilleus asked.
‘Nope. This one grimy mother had a knife.’
‘She was carrying?’
‘Yeah.’
Achilleus sucked his teeth noisily.
‘Ain’t heard of that before. If them zombies get tooled up, life is gonna get a whole lot harder.’
He looked at Brooke. Her eyes were black and blue. The rest of her face had a yellowish tint. There were spots of dark blood on the bandage and her lips were cracked and dry and flaking.
‘Do I look as krutters as you?’ he asked.
‘You don’t look too piff, to be honest, soldier, but then I don’t know what you looked like before.’
‘Never was no R-Patz.’
‘That’s a relief,’ said Brooke. ‘Not my type. You shoulda seen me before, though,’ she added. ‘I’d a broken your little heart.’
‘Doubt it,’ said Achilleus, sitting up and groaning with the effort. ‘Take a lot to break this heart.’
‘I can imagine.’
Achilleus closed his eyes and let out his breath in a long sigh.
‘There’s people here can help,’ said Brooke. ‘We got drugs, antiseptic, yeah, that kind of thing. Some antibiotics, but we got to be careful with them. I was going to go over and see about it. You want to roll with me?’
‘Sure. If I can ever get out of this bed.’
‘You want me to help you?’
‘Yeah. Why not?’
Brooke took hold of one hand and hauled Achilleus hard. He swore and for a moment felt like he might faint again. He fought it, grunted and stood up. As he waited for his head to clear and the pain to subside, he spotted Paddy fast asleep on an inflatable mattress on the floor at the foot of his bed. Paddy’s mouth was open and he was snoring loudly.
‘Lazy little tyke,’ Achilleus said and went over to give him a kick. ‘Rise and shine, caddie. We’ve got some golf to play.’
‘Wha …?’ Paddy looked very confused. So Achilleus picked up the side of the mattress and rolled him on to the floor. Paddy swore at Achilleus, who laughed at him.
‘If you want to be my slave you got to stick by me at all times, Paddywhack. Ready for anything. You’re no use to me asleep.’
‘Yeah, sorry, Achilleus, yeah, I’m on it.’ The area around Paddy’s mattress was scattered with Halo action figures; he must have been playing with them before he went to sleep. Now he hurriedly packed them away into his backpack and pulled on his trousers.
‘You
want your weapons?’ he asked, looking around for the golf-bag.
Achilleus looked at Brooke. Brooke shook her head.
‘Nah,’ said Achilleus and he booted Paddy up the backside. ‘But get your scrawny Irish arse in gear. My head hurts and I’ve got a doctor’s appointment.’
As they went out on to the balcony outside the minerals gallery, Achilleus took in the view of the central hall. Light streamed in through two rows of windows on either side of the great arched roof and he could appreciate just how huge and ornate the place was, like a cathedral.
There were kids busy below, hauling bodies across the tiled floor towards the main doors.
‘You find any more live ones?’ Achilleus asked Brooke.
‘I don’t know. Don’t think so. I ain’t been involved in that.’
‘I shoulda been,’ said Achilleus.
‘Maxie said to let you sleep. She said you’d be more use to us fit and well and rested up.’
‘Yeah. But I sure do love to whack a grown-up in the morning.’
Halfway down the main stairs they met Maeve coming up. She was a serious-looking girl whose parents had both been doctors. She’d acted as a doctor herself for Achilleus and the other kids when they were living in Waitrose.
‘I was just coming to find you,’ she said when she saw Brooke. ‘I wanted to have a look at the labs you’ve got here and somebody said you were heading off that way. I’m Maeve, by the way.’ She smiled at Brooke, who smiled back.
‘Yeah, we’re off to see the docs,’ said Brooke. ‘Join the party.’
The two girls fell into conversation as they carried on. Achilleus and Paddy dropped back and sauntered along behind them.
‘Can we do some training today?’ Paddy asked.
‘Nope.’
‘Oh, come on, Achilleus. The deal was I’d carry your gear if you taught me how to fight.’
‘You heard the girl, didn’t you?’ said Achilleus. ‘She said I need to rest up. Right now I feel like someone’s poured burning acid in my ear. I feel, like, dizzy and that. There was a guy, name of Arran, used to be our, like, leader sort of thing. Got a bite. Got infected. Went nuts. You don’t want that to happen to me now, do you, caddie?’
The Fallen Page 5
