The Killing

by Robert Muchamore

‘James fancies her,’ Bethany giggled.

  Bethany severely got on James’ nerves at times and this was one of them. He shot her a furious look. ‘God Bethany, I really wish you’d grow up.’

  ‘Did you beat her?’ Jake asked.

  Lauren laughed, ‘James couldn’t beat Dana. He got nailed by Bethany and she’s ten.’

  Jake nodded. ‘Yeah, James. You’re strong, but you’re really slow.’

  ‘Bethany didn’t pin me, I slipped,’ James huffed. He was anxious to steer the conversation away from humiliating reminders of losing a fight to a ten-year-old girl. ‘Anyhow, we’ve got less than fifteen minutes to plan our strategy.’

  Bethany unrolled a map of the combat training area. Lauren and Jake held down the corners to stop it curling up. James swallowed his last couple of chips and rubbed his salty fingertips on his trousers as he tried to sound like leadership material.

  ‘OK, here’s what we’ll do …’ James said, walking his fingers across the map. ‘Um … there’s our drop point, so as soon as the mission starts we’ll head for this high ground here. We can station scouts here and here and pick off anyone who tries to come near us.’

  ‘Good plan,’ Lauren said. ‘Just one teensy problem.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That particular piece of high ground is in the middle of a lake.’

  ‘Is it?’ James gasped.

  Lauren nodded slowly. ‘As a rule, the blue bits on a map indicate water.’

  ‘Good point,’ James grinned weakly. ‘You passed my test.’

  Jake thumped his palm against his forehead. ‘Why do I always get put on the rubbish team?’

  *

  The cherubs all gathered on the stretch of road outside the main building to find that twenty sets of appropriately sized kit had been laid out behind an army truck: body armour, weapons and a backpack for each trainee. The sun was starting to drop, but it was still warm.

  ‘The truck leaves in eight minutes,’ Mr Large shouted. ‘Let’s move it, muffins.’

  James sat on the tarmac and pulled off his boots, before stepping into a chunky, Kevlar-lined overall. By the time he’d pulled on the heavy gloves, strapped on the helmet and pushed down the visor, he was boiling hot.

  Jake was struggling to load his gun with his gloved hands, so James walked over to help him out.

  ‘Five minutes,’ Large shouted. ‘Fifty punishment laps for any kid who holds up the truck.’

  James clipped the ammunition on to his gun, then looked at Jake. ‘Are you OK? You look like a ghost.’

  Jake grinned uneasily. ‘How bad do you think it hurts when those bullets hit you?’

  ‘Pretty bad, but don’t worry, there’s four of us looking out for you.’

  James held the loaded weapon out for Jake, but Jake backed away and scowled at the ground. ‘I don’t wanna go,’ he said anxiously, tugging at the chinstrap of his helmet to unbuckle it. ‘I changed my mind.’

  James groaned with frustration. Until Jake turned ten and committed himself to becoming a CHERUB agent, he didn’t have to go on any training exercises if he didn’t want to; but James knew he’d catch hell from Mr Large if a member of his team dropped out minutes before the exercise was due to start.

  James desperately tried to think up a way to talk Jake around. ‘You’re lucky you know, coming to CHERUB before you’re ten. I only got three weeks before they put me into basic training. I was unfit and I could barely even swim.’

  ‘I’m sorry, James,’ Jake sniffled. ‘I’m tired. I wanna go to bed.’

  ‘Don’t back out now. You’re a tough little guy.’

  ‘What’s the hold-up?’ Dana asked. ‘We need to get on that truck.’

  James shrugged hopelessly. ‘Jake doesn’t want to go.’

  ‘Doesn’t he?’ Dana grinned. She flipped up her visor and pressed her beefy hands down on Jake’s shoulders. ‘What’s your dysfunction, brat? Are you chicken?’

  ‘No,’ Jake said defiantly.

  ‘Do you know how bad your mates are gonna flame you when they find out that you bottled it?’

  Jake couldn’t think of an answer.

  ‘Do you really want to go back to the junior block?’ Dana asked. ‘They’ll laugh their socks off when you walk around that corner into the rec room.’

  ‘I just …’ Jake said meekly.

  ‘Don’t give me I just, brat,’ Dana said. ‘Take your gun from James and put your helmet back on. You’re gonna go out there and show everyone what you’re made of. I’ll cover your back, OK?’

  Jake was a little scared of Dana, but the idea of this imposing girl looking out for him was reassuring. He nodded obediently at her, before taking his gun from James.

  ‘OK, soldier,’ Dana grinned, giving Jake a friendly pat on the back. ‘Grab your pack and go climb into the truck.’

  James smiled at Dana as Jake headed towards the truck. ‘Thanks.’

  Dana returned a look of contempt as she pushed her visor back down over her face. ‘You should study the tricks the instructors use to motivate us,’ she said harshly. ‘What little boy wants to get teased by his mates?’

  James nodded. ‘Look, Dana. I know it’s awkward me being in charge when you’re older and more experienced than me.’

  ‘It’s not awkward, James, it’s idiotic. So spare me your stupid pep talk and let’s get this over with.’

  6. YOLK

  The urban warfare compound was a rectangle one kilometre by one and a half. It was designed for soldiers training in attacking or defending built-up areas. Teams A–C had already been dropped at their starting points. Mr Large pulled the canvas-covered truck up sharply and Mr Pike – who’d ridden in the back alongside the kids – slid a bolt, allowing the rear flap of the truck to slam down.

  ‘Team D,’ Pike shouted. ‘What are you waiting for?’

  Pike handed each kid a box containing six unbroken eggs before they jumped down. James was first out, followed by Jake, Lauren, Bethany and Dana.

  James glanced around as the truck pulled away and Bethany unfurled the map. The artificial town had a surreal air. Rusted cars lined the streets, with all their windows removed to avoid any danger from flying glass. The buildings were finished in bare concrete and were designed to simulate different kinds of environments: shops, homes, offices and warehouses. Some were as much as four storeys tall.

  The legacy of thousands of mock battles lay everywhere: black scorch marks on the walls, metal shell casings in the gutters and everything spattered in brightly coloured paint. With no moving vehicles and a population of twenty kids, the compound was eerily quiet. All James could hear were the footsteps of his team-mates and the passage of each nervous breath around the inside of his helmet.

  ‘Any bright ideas?’ James asked.

  Lauren pointed at a building a few hundred metres into the distance. ‘I like that one,’ she said. ‘It backs on to the corner of the compound, meaning we only have to defend it from two sides. It’s also nice and high, so we can station a lookout on the roof.’

  Dana tutted. ‘Yeah micro-brain, but it’s also blindingly obvious.’

  Lauren reared up. ‘Who are you calling micro-brain, Cheesy?’

  ‘You try calling me Cheesy again,’ Dana screamed, facing Lauren off, ‘and I’ll rip off your head and spit down your neck.’

  James placed himself between the two girls. ‘Calm down and stop yelling. We’re supposed to be killing everyone else, not each other.’

  ‘Suppose someone comes after us,’ Dana spat. ‘They know we were dropped in this area and that’s the first place they’ll come looking.’

  ‘Well that’s where I think we should go,’ Lauren said, sounding narked.

  ‘OK, OK,’ James said, feeling the pressure of being in charge. ‘What if we station a sniper on the roof of Lauren’s building, then we’ll barricade the door so that it looks like we’re all in there? But really, all except one of us are in the low building opposite.’

  ‘That might just wo
rk,’ Dana nodded. ‘If anyone comes by and tries to storm the building with the sniper inside, you lot can steam out from behind and ambush them.’

  James looked at Dana. ‘Do you want to go up the stairs and be the sniper? Are you a good shot?’

  ‘Better than any of you, I expect,’ Dana said. ‘Though it’ll be pitch dark soon and we haven’t got night scopes.’

  ‘If you hear anyone, start shooting so that they think we’re in there.’

  ‘What if it’s one of you guys?’ Dana asked.

  James looked blank.

  ‘We need a signal,’ Bethany said. ‘Meow like a cat or something, then you’ll know it’s one of us.’

  James nodded. ‘But if you hear a meow, return with a bark, like a dog. That way we know it’s not someone ripping off our noise. And remember, once it gets dark, sound is the best way of tracking us. Only call out if you absolutely must.’

  ‘OK,’ Dana said, as she set off towards the high building. ‘You’d better not make a mess of this. I’ll see you losers later.’

  Lauren waited until Dana was out of earshot before responding. ‘Not if I see you first, Cheesy … And thanks for taking her side, James.’

  James tutted. ‘It’s not a question of taking sides, Lauren. Face facts, Dana was right.’

  ‘This is all very well if your plan to lure the opposition towards the big building works,’ Lauren sniped. ‘But what if they see through it?’

  ‘Will you shut up and let me think?’ James said. ‘We need to get under cover. Kerry’s team was only dropped a few hundred metres from here. They could be on our backs any second.’

  James led Lauren, Bethany and Jake towards a single-level structure with a canopy, designed to resemble a fast-food stand. He opened the aluminium door and stepped inside, surprised by how cramped the space was.

  ‘Bethany and Lauren, keep the chatter down and watch out of the window. Me and Jake will cover the rear.’

  ‘There’s a duffle bag behind this table,’ Bethany said excitedly, as she crouched down near the back window.

  James turned towards her. ‘Large said we’d find extra equipment scattered around the training area.’

  The team gathered in a semi-circle. Bethany undid the buckle and opened the bag, revealing five pairs of night-vision goggles. The sets were specifically designed to clip on to their helmets.

  ‘Sweet,’ James grinned. ‘These will give us a massive advantage once it starts getting dark.’

  ‘Hang on though,’ Lauren said. ‘This is the first building we’ve been in and we’ve already found some valuable equipment. For all we know, there’s something useful in every building.’

  Bethany finished her sentence. ‘And if we hole up here while the other teams grab a load of fancy equipment, we could end up being totally outgunned.’

  James, Lauren and Bethany looked at each other. ‘Lauren,’ James said, ‘you stay here with Jake, be ready to start shooting if someone attacks Dana’s building. Me and Bethany can head out on to the street. We’re gonna check all the other buildings and see what we can find.’

  ‘What am I, an octopus?’ Lauren gasped. ‘I can’t do all that on my own.’

  ‘You’ll have to try your best,’ James said stiffly. ‘You’ve got Jake with you.’

  ‘Great, a red shirt,’ Lauren sneered. ‘What’s he gonna do?’

  ‘I don’t wanna stay with her,’ Jake said. ‘Can I go outside with you, James?’

  ‘James,’ Lauren said. ‘This isn’t a strategy, this is a disaster. One minute we’re all holing up here waiting for an ambush. Now you want us all to split up. If someone comes after us we’ll get picked off one at a time.’

  ‘Well, what do you want me to do, sis?’ James whispered angrily. ‘I’m the team leader. Being my sister doesn’t give you the right to start an argument over every single decision I make. Now, I know this isn’t ideal, but we can’t let the other teams get hold of all the equipment.’

  ‘How about I stay here with Bethany and you go out hunting with Jake?’

  ‘Fine, whatever,’ James said angrily. ‘I’ll go out with Jake. You stay here and play dolls’ houses with your little friend.’

  It was hard to read Lauren’s expression through the visor over her face, but James was fairly sure she was glowering at him. He spun on his heel and crashed out of the aluminium door. Before realising how stupid it was to make so much noise, James felt a loud crack against the side of his helmet. As he stumbled sideways, a second shot tore painfully into his ribs. The paint dribbling down his side was yellow, indicating that he’d been shot by a member of Kyle’s team.

  James had been hit hundreds of times by paintballs. It wasn’t nice, but the stinging went away ten minutes later. The simulated ammunition was in a different league. James could hardly draw breath as he collapsed against the side of the building. Luckily, the third shot skimmed past his shoulder and clanged into the metal door behind him.

  As James gasped, he spotted the eleven-year-old twin girls from Kyle’s team ducking down behind a car. James reached for his gun, but the pain in his chest made him clumsy.

  ‘Don’t think so,’ the girls chanted, as they came out of cover with their weapons aimed at James. ‘Drop your gun, and throw us the pack with your eggs in.’

  James didn’t want to surrender his eggs, but the girls were standing at the regulation three-metre minimum shooting distance, and he’d already found out how painful the simulated rounds could be from much farther out.

  As James unhooked his pack, a red shot smashed into the thigh of one girl, sweeping her right leg from under her. James realised it had to be Dana, firing from up high. A second later, Bethany booted open the door behind him and shot at the other one. The round missed, but the girl ducked and James used the instant while she was distracted to roll forwards and aim his gun. He took great satisfaction in blasting the girl who’d shot him moments earlier. She fell over backwards, and James pumped her twice in the back from minimum range.

  The twist of fortune had taken seconds. Now the twin girls were writhing on the ground with James, Dana and Bethany pointing guns at them.

  ‘Let’s have those guns over here,’ James said. ‘No sudden moves.’

  It took a while, because both girls were hurt. As soon as they’d pushed the guns out of reach, James ran in and grabbed them. He unclipped the magazines, before flipping back the operating handles and pocketing the driving springs. Without this small component, the rifles were useless.

  ‘Give us your backpacks,’ James ordered, menacing the girls with his rifle.

  The searing pain in his chest and the fear of getting shot again had left James running on his most basic survival instincts. He didn’t give a damn about the feelings of the two girls squirming at his feet.

  ‘You can’t shoot us from this close,’ one girl said desperately, as he closed back in to grab their backpacks.

  ‘Sue me,’ James snarled, jabbing the girl with his gun as he ripped the pack off her shoulder. ‘Why don’t you write a letter to the United Nations?’

  James threw one pack backwards towards Bethany and unzipped the other one himself. He threw down the polystyrene egg box and smashed it under the heel of his boot. Bethany did the same. It was a good feeling, destroying one third of team A’s eggs less than twenty minutes into the twelve-hour exercise.

  ‘What can we do with them?’ Bethany asked, as she contemptuously wiped her eggy boot on to her victim’s suit. ‘They know our position and we’re not allowed to take hostages; we’ll have to move out of here.’

  As Bethany spoke, James noticed a lump of plastic rolling from beneath one of the cars at the kerbside. He instantly knew it was a stun grenade, but didn’t get a chance to take cover before its powder-blue flash erupted. He stumbled backwards, half blind, as the bitter taste of smoke hit the back of his mouth.

  He recognised Kyle’s voice. ‘How’d you like that little toy, Adams?’

  Another stun grenade erupted. This one had b
een lobbed through the back window of the food stand. Lauren screamed as she stumbled blindly out of the aluminium door with Jake close behind her.

  Kyle howled in pain as Dana shot him from up high. She’d picked out a perfect shot through the smoke, hitting Kyle in the scantly protected area where the helmet met the padded overall. James only got a second to gloat before he felt an excruciating pain in his lower back. He caught sight of the blue paint spattered on his sleeves and looked over his shoulder to find all five members of Kerry’s team closing on his position in a V-formation.

  James had already taken three painful shots and he couldn’t face getting hit more as Kerry and Kyle’s teams closed from opposing directions. He lost all thoughts of leadership as he scrambled to his feet, cut down a side street and ran away as fast as he could.

  He ran a few hundred metres through the streets, almost to the opposite side of the training compound. He found a house and fired a couple of rounds inside. When nobody fired back, he jumped through the glassless window and dropped to the concrete floor.

  There were blue flashes from stun grenades and the constant rat-tat of simulated ammunition as the three-way battle raged on in the distance. The sky was turning amber, meaning it would be dark inside half an hour.

  James had taken three hits. The first shot had ricocheted harmlessly off his helmet, there was a dull ache in his stomach from the second, but the shot to his lower back was the killer. An agonising spasm fired down his leg as he slumped on to the floor. He felt relieved at getting away from the action as he caught his breath, but he quickly realised that as the senior agent, he had to go back and try to reunite his team before darkness fell.

  Before standing back up, he broke the rules by turning towards the wall, flipping up his visor and wiping away the sweat streaking down his face.

  When James looked up, he noticed a grey box in the corner. He scuttled across and was delighted to find a dozen ammo clips. Everyone had started with two twenty-eight-round clips for their rifle. James had nearly used a full clip already and he realised that as the night went on, ammo was going to become a valuable commodity.

  James locked a full clip on to his rifle and stacked the remainder into his pack, even though each clip weighed more than a kilogram.