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CHERUB: Divine Madness

Page 28

by Robert Muchamore


  Lauren tutted as she snatched the handheld and turned it off.

  ‘Hey,’ Rat gasped.

  Lauren grabbed his arm and tugged him off the couch. Everyone smiled as Rat was dragged out into the sunlight.

  ‘Thank you, Lauren,’ John said, before resuming his speech. ‘I know that our memories of this mission will be tinged with sadness, because of the people who died in the Ark. But I don’t want that to detract from the outstanding work done by the people gathered here.’

  John paused to take a mouthful of wine. ‘I had a long conversation with our chairman, Dr McAfferty, this morning. You’ve all heard the news that Rathbone has been accepted as a CHERUB recruit.’

  A splutter of clapping broke out and Rat smiled.

  ‘Mac also offered thanks to Abigail for her assistance. I’m sure we all wish her success in her ongoing ASIS career.

  ‘I’m afraid that Mac’s next piece of news makes me rather sad. It seems that young Chloe will no longer be my assistant. Dr McAfferty has offered her a position as a full mission controller. She’ll even be getting her own assistant to boss around. Congratulations, Chloe!’

  Chloe looked happy as Amy gave her a rub on the back.

  ‘But this mission would never have got anywhere without the work of three brilliant youngsters. In fact, the first thing that Dr McAfferty said when I spoke to him this morning was that he was delighted finally to have an opportunity to promote Dana Smith to a navy shirt. We now know that over a hundred people would have died if Help Earth had successfully destroyed the Indonesian LNG facility. Each of them owes their life to Dana’s extraordinary bravery.’

  Everyone clapped as Dana broke into an uncharacteristic smile and turned bright red.

  ‘Long overdue,’ James shouted and everyone murmured in agreement.

  John smiled. ‘James, Mac also expressed his thanks for another solid performance from you.

  ‘However, the chairman singled out our youngest agent for the strongest praise of all. Despite being just eleven years of age, Lauren behaved almost immaculately over the space of two months under extremely difficult circumstances. Not only that, but when the mission reached its climax, she not only kept her cool, but instigated the rescue of five young children who would almost certainly have perished in the explosion.

  ‘Lauren Adams, I’m absolutely delighted to say that you have been awarded a black shirt. I’m told that this will make you the third youngest cherub ever to wear it.’

  James was stunned as Lauren put her hands over her eyes and squealed, ‘Are you kidding me?’

  Chloe stepped up behind Lauren and pulled her into a big hug. James was happy, but at the same time he resented it slightly. It had been Lauren’s idea to rescue the little kids, but he’d been through everything else with Lauren and hadn’t got anything.

  Amy jabbed a finger in his back. ‘Go and congratulate your sister then.’

  James stepped forward and got caught up in the happy mood as he hugged his sister, who had tears streaking down her face.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ she sniffed happily. ‘None of my mates are even navy shirts. The other black shirts are all fifteen and sixteen. I – I just …’

  John grinned at her. ‘It’s ability not age that counts at CHERUB.’

  As James headed over to the barbecue to replenish his plate, he caught a sly glance from Dana.

  ‘What are you grinning at?’ James asked.

  ‘Oh,’ Dana said, shrugging casually, ‘I just think it’s going to be a hoot watching Lauren boss you around on training exercises and stuff. I mean, now that your little sister outranks you …’

  EPILOGUE

  Help Earth

  The arrests of BRIAN EVANS, SUSIE REGAN, NINA RICHARDS and BARRY COX represented a huge step in the fight against the terrorist group Help Earth.

  Although the four are initially expected to stand trial in Australia, they are also wanted for questioning in Hong Kong, the United Kingdom, America and Venezuela. It is expected that they will spend the rest of their lives in prison.

  In the days after the Survivors’ Ark tragedy, several more arrests were made, including that of ARNOS LOMBORG, who is now believed to have been the financial mastermind behind Help Earth.

  MIKE EVANS has not been sighted since his beachfront encounter with Dana Smith and remains at large.

  Although these arrests struck a major blow against Help Earth, it is thought that the terrorist group has a decentralised structure made up of small cells located throughout the world. Many of these cells remain a threat, especially as much of the $400 million stolen from the Survivors by Susie Regan has not been traced.

  The Survivors

  Many commentators thought that the death of Joel Regan and the Ark tragedy would spell the end of the Survivor cult: this did not prove to be the case.

  While the Survivors were bankrupted by the financial implications of the failed terrorist attack, the movement itself restructured. Most Survivors now believe that God will select a new messenger to lead them and build another Ark.

  ELLIOT MOSS fully recovered from his stab wound. Together with WEEN he set up the New Survivor Foundation, known as the NSF. Using a mixture of bank loans and money raised by commune members, the NSF was able to purchase the Brisbane mall and the adjoining warehouse from creditors.

  Although four Survivor communes around the world closed after the fall of the first Ark – as NSF members call it – nineteen others used the earning power and ingenuity of their residents to stay in business.

  ERNIE CRAIG was arrested in the wake of the Ark tragedy and cautioned for various firearms offences. Other members of the NSF did not accept his repeated claims that he escaped the Ark with Rathbone Regan and that the boy will one day return to lead the Survivors. After a series of heated arguments he was forced to leave the Brisbane commune.

  GEORGIE GOLDMAN was found among the dead inside a collapsed tunnel within the Ark.

  The body of EVE STANNIS washed up on an Indonesian island. No trace was ever found of the dinghy or explosives. She was flown back to Brisbane and buried in a Survivor ceremony. Eve’s parents and two younger sisters are believed to have left the NSF shortly afterwards.

  The Others

  ABIGAIL SANDERS went back to her real family and her regular job with ASIS. She is currently working to identify the remaining Help Earth cells and trace the money stolen by Susie Regan.

  MIRIAM LONGFORD attained brief celebrity in the aftermath of the Ark tragedy. As the preeminent expert on the Survivors, she appeared on more than a dozen TV shows and was quoted in hundreds of newspapers around the world. Once the attention died down, she resumed her work counselling former cult members and is currently writing a biography, From Supermodel to Terrorist: The Sensational Life of Susie Regan.

  Following the Ark tragedy, EMILY WILDMAN changed her will again, this time leaving one quarter of her money to her son RONNIE and three quarters to the Australian Red Cross. She remains in reasonable health and recently celebrated her eighty-eighth birthday.

  The Cherubs

  RATHBONE REGAN changed his name to Greg Rathbone. He has started basic training alongside eleven other recruits and is said to be doing exceptionally well. Despite begging everyone on CHERUB campus to call him Greg, he is still known as Rat.

  Despite the injury to her toe, DANA SMITH has resumed light training and has set herself a target to compete in her first adult triathlon in August 2006.

  After ten days’ rest in Townsville, JAMES and LAUREN ADAMS returned to CHERUB campus. They will be eligible for another mission once they have caught up on their school work.

  READ ON FOR THE FIRST CHAPTER

  OF THE NEXT CHERUB BOOK,

  MAN VS BEAST.

  1. MORNING

  Andy Pierce’s bed felt fantastic. His duvet was wrapped around his chin, his muscles felt relaxed and his warm pillow fitted snugly under his head. But the gash of sunlight leaking between the curtains was tormenting him.

&nbs
p; The fourteen-year-old didn’t have the heart to crane his head up and look at the bedside clock, but he knew he had to get up. In less than an hour he’d have his elbows propped on a desk and a tie around his neck for the waking nightmare that was Monday morning: English, French and drama. Today would be even worse than usual because Andy was going to get nailed for not doing his Macbeth homework.

  He pictured the dirty look he’d get off Mr Walker as his bedroom door swung into the room.

  ‘I called you three times already,’ Andy’s mum shouted, as she bounded across the carpet towards the window.

  Christine Pierce looked like a sour-faced angel: dressed for work in a white polo shirt, white trousers and white canvas plimsolls.

  ‘There’s toast on the table downstairs. Stone cold now, I expect.’

  The room exploded with light as Christine swished the curtains apart, then whipped away the duvet covering her eldest son.

  ‘Mummmm,’ Andy moaned, as he shielded his eyes with one hand and put the other over his privates.

  ‘Oh, give over,’ Christine grinned, giving her son a friendly slap on the ankle. ‘You’ve got nothing down there I haven’t seen a thousand times before.’ Her expression turned to revulsion as she caught a whiff of the duvet hanging over her arm. ‘When exactly did you last change these sheets?’

  Andy shrugged as he rolled on to his bum and grabbed a pair of clean boxers he’d set out the night before.

  ‘I dunno … Last week I think.’

  ‘Pull the other one. Those pillowcases are yellow and I don’t even want to think about the smell.’

  ‘It’s not that bad.’

  Andy watched his mum’s lips thin out as he yanked a school shirt sleeve up his arm. Thin lips meant he had to be careful: she was on the verge of going thermonuclear.

  ‘When I get home from work this evening, I expect to see that disgusting bed linen washed and hanging on the rotary line out the back. And you can do your brother’s while you’re at it.’

  ‘What?’ Andy gasped. ‘Why have I got to do Stuart’s bed?’

  Andy recoiled as his mother jammed her pointing finger under his nose. ‘You claim you’re old enough to stroll in from the cinema with your mates at a quarter past eleven. In my book, that makes you old enough to start taking more responsibility around this house. This isn’t a hotel, and I’m your mother, not your cleaning lady.’

  ‘Yes, your majesty,’ Andy said sullenly.

  Christine glanced at her watch and sounded more friendly as she backed away. ‘I’ve got to run. You know, it would make my life easier if I got a little bit more cooperation out of you.’

  Andy had heard this guilt trip before and wasn’t buying it. ‘Where’s my lunch money?’ he asked, as he kicked both feet in the air and hitched black school trousers up his legs.

  ‘There’s bus fare on the kitchen worktop. Ham, tomato and mustard sandwich in the fridge.’

  ‘Can’t I get chip money?’

  ‘Don’t start on that one again. You know I haven’t got thirty quid a week for you and Stuart to spend on junk food.’

  Andy tutted. ‘Everyone goes round the chippy. Sandwiches are totally embarrassing.’

  ‘Go whine to your father. His wife’s driving round in a new Focus, while I’m maxed out on three credit cards.’

  This guilt trip worked better. Andy had grown to realise that his dad was a total scumbag. His mum had to put in a ton of overtime just to keep their heads above water.

  ‘I should be home by seven,’ Christine said, leaning forwards and kissing her son on the cheek. ‘And I’m not joking about changing those beds, you hear me?’

  Leaving a smudge of lipstick on her son’s face, she backed out of the room and set off downstairs. The teenager was half a minute behind, threading his belt into his trousers as he walked.

  Stuart was in the kitchen and irritated his big brother by being perky and neat as usual. The eleven-year-old had his hair combed, blazer and tie on and Bugs Bunny blaring out of the portable TV. As Andy grabbed a triangle of cold toast, the two boys exchanged grunts.

  ‘Mum’s stressed out,’ Stuart said sourly. ‘Why you gotta keep winding her up all the time?’

  Andy wasn’t proud of the way he got into rows with his mum, but he didn’t mean it. It just kept happening, part of being a teenager or something. Whatever his true feelings, Andy wasn’t going to give his little brother the satisfaction of a straight answer.

  ‘Why don’t you mind your own?’

  Stuart sucked air through his teeth. ‘You’re so selfish.’

  ‘Piss off.’

  ‘Don’t start, you two,’ Christine shouted from the hallway. She had a bag over her shoulder now and the car keys in her hand, all set to leave. ‘You’ve got ten minutes or you’ll both be late for school. Don’t forget to turn the deadlock in the front door as you leave.’

  Andy gave his mum a nod. ‘Later Mum, have a good day at work.’

  ‘Not much chance of that,’ she answered gloomily.

  Andy waited for the front door to close before scowling back at his brother. ‘You’re asking for a punch with that smart mouth.’

  Before Stuart could think up a comeback that was nasty enough to sting but not so nasty it earned him a dead arm, a scream erupted out on the driveway.

  It could only be their mum and it wasn’t an I’ve seen a spider scream or the way she’d screamed at their father when they were getting divorced. It came from deep inside, like she was in a lot of pain.

  The two lads bolted out of their seats at the dining table and raced down the hallway towards the front door.

  A Balaclava-clad man smashed Christine’s car windscreen with a mallet as Andy burst out on to the driveway. Christine writhed in the gravel, screaming and spitting. Her face and hands glistened with red paint that had been thrown in her face.

  The man popped two more windows along the side of the car, but Andy fixed on his accomplice, a stocky dude looming over his mother. He wore camouflage trousers, a black Balaclava and looked ominously like he was about to stick the boot in. Andy didn’t even have shoes on, but couldn’t stand there while someone laid into his mum.

  ‘You’re dead,’ Andy screamed as he charged forward.

  He was stocky, but the teenager wasn’t up to fighting a grown man. The masked dude wrapped an arm around Andy’s neck and planted a gloved fist hard into his face.

  ‘I’m not the killer here,’ the dude snarled, as Andy’s nose exploded in pain.

  Andy toppled backwards into a hedge, before a giant boot sank into his belly, pushing him deep into the tangled branches. As Andy wiped a bloody nose on his white sleeve, the Balaclava-clad men jogged off towards a battered Citroën parked across the end of the driveway.

  The little getaway car lurched as Andy experienced the most desperate feeling of his life. It wasn’t just the pain in his nose, or worrying about his mum, but a feeling of total inadequacy: he’d let the thugs who’d attacked her get away and hadn’t been able to stop them because he was only a kid. As Andy untangled himself from the branches and staggered on to his feet, he could hear her moaning.

  ‘I can’t see,’ Christine sobbed.

  Stuart stood on the doorstep, chalk white and rigid.

  ‘Don’t just stand there, moron,’ Andy yelled as he stumbled towards his mother. ‘Get inside, call a bloody ambulance.’

  As Stuart came to his senses and raced for the phone, Andy noticed that a hangman’s noose had been spray-painted on to the garage door and a message written alongside it:

  QUIT YOUR JOB AT THE ANIMAL LAB

  NEXT TIME YOU DIE

  BY ORDER – THE ANIMAL FREEDOM MILITIA

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