The Fallen

by Charlie Higson

  ‘Science can’t give hard answers, only theories,’ said Einstein. ‘That’s how it works. We observe what we can and make judgements based on that. And, as I say, so far we haven’t observed anyone getting sick as they get older. Until we really understand the way the disease works we won’t know what caused it and what might happen in the future. Are we immune? Are we incubating the disease? Did whatever was causing the disease stop doing what it was doing at a certain date? Did something happen fifteen years ago?’

  ‘Or stop happening.’

  ‘You got it. Exactly. And that’s what I’m trying to find out. Are we immune? Or are we all carrying the disease, all slowly getting ill? We just don’t know. That’s the point of this expedition, to find what we need to carry on our research.’

  ‘So we’re fetching chemicals?’

  ‘Chemicals, drugs, medicine, anything like that. I’m hoping the Promithios warehouse will have all we need. Unless it got burned down or cleaned out.’

  ‘And that’s what the trolleys are for?’

  ‘Yeah. I know they’ll slow us down, but we need to pick up a lot of gear.’

  Ollie blew out his breath and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I never thought, when we were battling our way across London from Holloway, that it was to go on a shopping trip.’

  ‘Weren’t you all living in a supermarket?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Then maybe it’s your destiny.’

  22

  This is the official report of day one of the expedition to the Promithios warehouse and supply depot near Heathrow Airport. Written by the scribe Lettis Slingsbury. It is as true as I can make it. Maybe someone else would see it differently. But I was there, and this is what I saw.

  FIRST ENTRY: We are stopped right now and this is my first chance to write anything in the journal. I don’t know how much I can write before we have to start up again, but I will try my best.

  We set off in the morning when the sun was already high in the sky. There were twenty-four people. I have written the list of who they are at the end of the journal. We are bringing trolleys with us so that we can bring back all the supplies we are going to get. The trolleys are very slow. They have these very small wheels so they keep sticking in every hole and bump. The people pushing them don’t like it. The trolleys rattle noisily and judder and every time they hit something they jerk suddenly and painfully. There was a lot of complaining and swearing and grumbling as we went along our way.

  Einstein had calculated that we would be able to get to Heathrow in one day. Which is where the warehouse is. The distance is roughly about fourteen and a half miles. So it should take roughly about five hours’ walking time, and a bit more for lunch and for resting. But he hadn’t calculated how much the trolleys would slow us down. He also hadn’t calculated what would happen if we met any sickos. Which is really stupid if you think about it, because there are lots of sickos out there, and London is a big place and nobody really knew what we might find. Einstein was confident and cocky because we had the new kids with us, the ones from Holloway, who are good fighters. He is not as clever as he thinks, I don’t think.

  Apart from the trolleys and the complaining and the swearing, the first hour went all right I suppose. We travelled west along the Cromwell Road to Hammersmith, past big old houses and along a wide road. We also passed many offices and buildings of that nature, and went over the Hammersmith flyover. It wasn’t too hard to push the trolleys along this bit as the road was good, a four-lane highway, a bit like a motorway. It was good to be up high and look out over London.

  This was the furthest I had been from the museum since we arrived a year ago. London is so big. There is so much of it. It all looked very still and quiet. There were some parts that had been burned down in fires, and there was some smoke in the distance. There was a mess still from the riots and battles that had taken place when the disease first came and there was no one to clear it all up. But it was a nice sunny day and actually London mostly looked quite nice. There was a big building that looked like a big glass bubble and Jasmine said it was called the Ark. Then there was a shopping centre on a roundabout and after that an old church, down below us. Nobody had damaged it. I felt it was quite comforting, seeing the church. I used to go to church before all this happened. I didn’t always enjoy it, but we went every Sunday. This journal record is not about me, though, so I must write more about what I saw.

  On the opposite side of the flyover was a big theatre sort of thing. Emily Winter said she had been to see a concert there once. A boy band I had never even heard of, but she said were really popular. I’m not really into pop music, but this is not about me. Then a group of boys got excited, they said they had seen some sickos down below, and everyone crowded over to the side. We couldn’t see anything and thought they had made it up. We waited for a while, but nothing was moving and in the end Einstein said we should carry on.

  Then there was an argument about who should push the trolleys – they really were a nuisance. A boy from Holloway settled the argument. His name is Achilleus. He is quite ugly. I know I shouldn’t say that, but it is true. And I have to write the truth. He has lots of injuries and scars, and one side of his head is all bandaged up. The bandage is really quite dirty. Maybe if he wasn’t so beaten up he would look OK, but I don’t think so. I think he is quite scary. He has all swirly patterns carved into his hair and has another boy called Paddy to carry his weapons in a golf-bag. It looks very heavy and I could see that Paddy was tired, but the boy, the other boy, the big boy, Achilleus, didn’t seem to notice, or at least be bothered by Paddy getting tired. Anyway, what happened was that Achilleus shouted at some children and threatened them and ordered them to push the trolleys. Einstein complained and said that it was his job to be in charge and tell people what to do and Achilleus just laughed at him.

  Achilleus isn’t even in charge of the Holloway people. A black boy called Blue is their leader. Blue didn’t seem to mind that Achilleus was ordering people around. So we carried on. Nobody was very happy, but nobody would risk saying anything because, to be fair, it’s not just me; they are all scared of Achilleus, even Einstein I think. Although he tries to pretend he isn’t. The only one who isn’t scared of him is Paddy, and he is all red-faced and sweating, puffing and panting along.

  Achilleus has other tough boys around him from Holloway, including another ugly one called Big Mick. Who is not only ugly but also big. I suppose that’s how he got his name. It’s not a clever one like Little John. I will not be rude about Mick, because he is a very good fighter and also when I got a bit tired and said so he carried me for a bit, sort of like he was joking, but it was nice. Mick is not so scary as Achilleus. My favourite one is Ollie, though. He rescued me from a fearsome sicko on the night of the World Book Day attack. Ollie is not scary, he is quite friendly, but quite quiet. I think he is the cleverest of them. He was talking to Einstein for a long time. I thought that if there was trouble Ollie would be sure to look after me. I was not so sure about Achilleus.

  My friends from the museum started to grumble and mutter about the new children, but I thought it would be another matter if we ever did meet any sickos. Which we did. But I will come to that in a minute. We carried on like that for roughly about another hour, maybe more, and everyone was cheering up because we were going faster, and the road was good and wide and safe all the way. It used to be the main road west out of London, so it is wide. We went quite easily and were not too fearful of attack. It was mostly raised up or had railings on the sides so there was no danger of sickos coming after us.

  Our route was to go along the A4 to the motorway, the M4, and travel out to Heathrow on that. But when we got to the start of the motorway there was a big roundabout there that the road was supposed to cross over and we found that there had been a fire and maybe a bit of an explosion. There were burnt trees and buildings and the skeletons of cars and lorries and buses and other wreckage, and the upper bit of the flyover that crossed over the ro
undabout had fallen down. There was just a big pile of rubble and broken up concrete in our way. Einstein said we would have to go round it and find somewhere to get back up on to the motorway. That was easier said than done. It would have been quite easy if we didn’t have the trolleys. But we did have the trolleys, we couldn’t change that fact, and had to get them down over the rubble on to the roundabout.

  The trolleys are quite heavy at the bottom and they had to be carried, so I don’t need to tell you that now everyone was really grumbling and angry, and I suppose nobody was paying attention because the next thing we knew there were sickos there. I suppose they had come out from inside a nearby building. They were very diseased-looking and they threw everyone into a mad panic. There was all shouting and some people tried to run away back up on to the motorway. There were maybe about twenty-five of the grown-ups. It was Blue who took charge now, not Achilleus and certainly not Einstein. Blue was telling people what to do and the people from Holloway made themselves into a proper fighting squad.

  Big Mick and three fighters took one side, Achilleus took Jackson and the museum fighters on the other side, Ollie stayed in the middle with his team. They had slings and javelins and even stones and other throwing stuff. Blue was moving all over, shouting out orders and bossing everyone around. I was scared and kept behind the fighters. There were others like me so I don’t mind saying it.

  Ollie’s squad fired at the sickos, and they were very effective. The sickos fell back and one of them was knocked over. He looked dead. But the Holloway people didn’t want to let them get away. Achilleus led a charge and Jackson was in the charge with them. It is hard to describe, but Achilleus’ team came in from one side and Mick’s team sort of came in from the other and they chopped and hacked at the sickos with their spears and clubs and swords.

  To tell you the truth, I couldn’t watch. I know I am supposed to be a witness and write about everything, I am supposed to be a neutral journalist, recording what happens, but you see I was scared by the fight, and there wasn’t anything I could do about that, or pretend it wasn’t so. I didn’t like to see the blood and everything. Next time I will be more brave and try to look properly. I promise. I did interview one of the key players (Ollie) as they are called, afterwards, so that I was sure I could make an accurate record. But anyway what happened in the end was that seven of those sickos were killed in all and the rest of them got away. However, the bad thing was that as the fight was going on another group of sickos came at us from somewhere else. From the back actually. We weren’t ready for them. They got very close before one of the museum people who was standing with me, Caspar Leverson, spotted them and gave a great cry.

  ‘More sickos,’ he shouted. ‘There are more of them.’ Or something like that. Certainly warning us there were more sickos. Next Blue turned round and quickly ordered everyone out of the way so that Ollie’s team could fire at them. The new sickos. They were just in time. They were very accurate. I think Ollie is a brilliant fighter. Also Blue and Einstein, and some of the museum people who weren’t in the main fight, attacked the new sickos after Ollie’s team had shot at them. Einstein boasted afterwards that he had fought them off and won the battle, but actually it was Blue and his fighters who really finished the sickos off.

  Half of the new group were killed and the other half was driven off under a hail of missiles. Then everyone was loud and noisy and excited, all talking about the battle. Showing off. Luckily nobody had been hurt apart from Daryl Painter who fell over when the second lot of sickos attacked and cut himself on the pile of rubble and concrete. It was not serious, though. Blue said that we should all get moving quickly in case any more sickos came. He said they would be attracted by the noise and the smell.

  I suppose he meant the smell of blood and dead meat. It was very strong, but for me the smell of the sickos was stronger. They smell horrible. Worse when they are dead. I tried not to look at the bodies, but some of the children went over and started poking the corpses and saying things and making jokes. I suppose they did it to try and get rid of their fear. Caspar started to kick one of the bodies and it sort of burst. Everyone said ‘eurgh’, and he had all like sticky green gunge stuff on his trainer. One girl was sick. It was Jasmine.

  So then we still had to get the trolleys over the roundabout and up the other side where there was a ramp back up to the motorway. It took a long time and everyone was getting crosser and crosser. The high spirits after the battle were turning bad. People were stressed and moody. Blue got in a big argument with Einstein, and Ollie had to calm them down. Ollie is calm and sensible. Without him I think the Holloway people would be much more difficult and moody and there would be more fights.

  We did get the trolleys back up on to the motorway, but we found that the road here was badly damaged with all cracks and potholes. There were plants growing out of it and they made the surface even worse. One of the trolleys got damaged when it went into a pothole; the wheel got sort of bent and wouldn’t go straight and it made a horrid squealing, creaky sound and the trolley wouldn’t roll straight. We tried to carry on, but it was too difficult, so Einstein said we had to stop and repair it. As you can imagine, this led to more arguments, but Einstein insisted.

  That is where we are and why I can write this down while I have a moment. Jackson and Daryl worked on the wheel. Jackson had brought some tools with her. She is very organized like that, and very good with her hands. She has been working on the trolley for nearly an hour now and all the while everyone else has been getting grumpier and grumpier and more and more nervous. We haven’t gone that far from where the dead bodies are still lying out in the sun. It would be easy for sickos to come up the ramps to where we are. Blue posted guards and look-outs everywhere, but everyone is well jumpy. There have been lots of false alarms.

  I will stop writing now because I think Jackson has got the trolley sort of working. At least working well enough to push it along. I hope there are no more delays so I will write the next part when we get to the warehouse and stop. With the delay caused by mending the wheel, and the battle and the fact that we are going too slowly anyway because of the trolleys, we are more than two hours over schedule. I heard Blue saying to Einstein that he was worried that we might not get to Heathrow before it got dark and whether we should go back and try again another day when we would be better prepared, but Einstein said we should carry on or all that time and effort would have been wasted.

  I hope, really hope we are going to get there in time and be able to go home today, although I am already quite tired of walking and we haven’t even come that far. Not very far, but the museum feels like a long way away, a million miles. I hope my friends there are all well and maybe they are wondering where we are and what we are doing and when they read this journal they will know.

  23

  At last it was growing dark. Shadows were creeping out of the corners in the museum, pooling like spilt oil. It had been a long day. Gripped by fever, his guts churning, Paul had sat in his den and waited, barely moving. Hot and cold at the same time, shivering, sweating, dribbling, burping – thick, caustic belches bubbling up his gullet like poison gas.

  At least he hadn’t been troubled by Boney-M for a few hours. The little monster gave him a headache with his constant shouting. He’d rattled around for a while in the morning, limping and moaning, picking up crap in his beak, shaking it and dropping it, claiming that it was him that had made the new dangerous kids leave the museum, the little liar, and then he’d disappeared. It had been quiet up here since then. Just the sound of the wind gently probing, trying to get in. And every now and then distant thin voices would drift in through the cracks. Like insect voices. They’d tickle Paul’s mind then dissolve into silence. There had been a numb feel to the day, like nothing mattered. In the end even the wind had given up its nagging.

  And Paul had waited, through the long, dull hours, and planned his move. Waited for when he could sneak down there and pick one of them off. A small one – a youn
g one – too dangerous otherwise.

  Couldn’t risk a fight.

  Couldn’t go down there in the light either. Had to do it at night when he could think straight and there were more dark places to hide. If he left it too late, though, they’d all go into the minerals gallery and close the doors. He had maybe a half-hour window of opportunity. At dusk, when the light drained away and they all came strolling back from wherever they’d been working. They would gather in the main hall then move up to the gallery. He had to get one of them when they were on the move, defences down, looking forward to their beds.

  Or in the toilet.

  Yes. That was a possibility.

  During the day the kids used some toilets Justin had had built outside. They’d been nicknamed the Dumper. Justin was very proud of his Dumper. The nerdy jerk. All their waste was collected in big stinky bins and emptied on to a midden, a great dunghill they’d started in some nearby gardens. They’d all sort of got used to the smell from the Dumper. But at night the kids couldn’t risk going outside and used some toilets just off the main hall instead, flushing them with grey waste water from their cooking and washing.

  Maybe that was the best place to ambush one of them?

  Yes. Time to move. Time to show Boney-M that he wasn’t useless.

  Time to start his collection.

  24

  ‘I’m supposed to be the head of security,’ said Robbie. ‘I can’t be stuck here. I’m useless. I could have helped the other night. But my leg …’

  ‘It’s all right,’ said Maeve, ‘we’re gonna sort that out,’ and she stuck a thermometer in his mouth.

  ‘Can you really fix it?’ Robbie asked, his words slightly muffled by the thermometer.

  ‘I can try,’ said Maeve. ‘It’s still sore, yeah?’

  ‘You could say that.’