The Dead

by Charlie Higson

  ‘They attack.’

  ‘Right. Two – why didn’t Greg get ill as quickly as most other adults?’

  ‘I don’t know. Why? I’ve no idea.’

  ‘Come on – what was he eating? That smoked meat.’

  ‘Oh, yeah. And you reckon that was human meat?’

  ‘Not just any human meat. Child meat.’

  ‘OK. I get you, I think.’ Ed smiled. ‘Yeah. You’re saying that if they eat us it helps to keep the sickness away? Is that it?’

  ‘Maybe.’ Justin stood up and started to walk up and down. ‘Look at the most successful sickos. They’re not so diseased, are they? So they can catch us kids easier. But maybe it’s a chicken and egg thing? Maybe the two things are connected? The more kids they eat, the less sick they get, and the less sick they get the more kids they eat.’

  ‘You’re saying we’re like a sort of medicine for them?’

  ‘In a way, yes.’

  ‘Bloody hell.’ Ed rubbed his temples and slowly shook his head, trying to take this in.

  ‘We think there’s something in us that adults need to eat in order to stay alive,’ said Wiki. ‘That means that the reason we didn’t get the sickness is that we’re different to them. Biologically different somehow. Everybody born less than fifteen years ago has something inside them that prevents them from getting the disease.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘We’ve got no idea,’ said Justin. ‘But the sickos can sense it. Not consciously. I don’t know, they can smell it, maybe. Remember what happened to Frédérique when she was attacked at the lorry? The sickos weren’t interested in her. They left her alone and went after the other kids. And that explains why they don’t eat each other, well, not unless they’re absolutely desperate. Their primary impulse is to attack and kill and eat children, because we are the only thing keeping them alive. Why do some die of the disease and some live? They live because they eat children. And the more they eat the longer they live.’

  ‘That’s not a very nice thought.’

  ‘Yes, but like I said, all knowledge is power,’ said Justin. ‘The more we can understand them the more we can defend against them.’

  ‘And what about sunlight, then?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Why does sunlight make them worse?’

  ‘Does it?’ Justin was frowning. This was new information for him.

  ‘Oh, come on, Justin,’ said Ed, pathetically pleased that he knew something that Justin didn’t. ‘You must have seen it. When you put a dead sicko into the sun –’

  ‘They turn into popcorn,’ Jibber-jabber interrupted. ‘Like exploding caterpillars.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Justin. ‘Go on.’

  ‘They prefer to stay in the dark,’ said Ed. ‘Not come out in the daylight. And Frédérique, she was all right in the dark, but went berserk in the daylight. When I spoke to her, she kept saying the sunlight hurt her.’

  ‘Maybe there’s something in the electromagnetic radiation from the sun,’ said Wiki. ‘Maybe the ultraviolet, or something. The sun’s rays could accelerate the disease. There are people who are allergic to sunlight. They have to stay in the dark or their skin blisters. It’s called polymorphous light eruption.’

  ‘There’s obviously a lot we still have to learn about the disease,’ said Justin, sitting back down.

  ‘Maybe you should catch some sickos and do experiments on them,’ said Ed.

  ‘Yes,’ said Justin. ‘It’d be dangerous, but if we really want to understand what’s going on then we should.’

  ‘Justin, I was joking!’ said Ed. ‘You can’t start doing human experiments.’

  ‘They’re no longer human, Ed. We’re the only humans left.’

  ‘If you say so.’ Ed sighed and started drumming his fingers on the table. ‘But you haven’t really answered my original question. Am I still going to be human after my birthday?’

  ‘You say Frédérique tried to attack you.’

  ‘She looked at me like I was lunch,’ said Ed. ‘Came at me with her mouth wide open.’

  ‘Then you must have inside you whatever prevents the disease.’

  ‘Yeah, but will it still be there when I get older?’

  ‘Logically I would say yes.’ Justin smiled at Ed. ‘You’re probably all right.’

  ‘Probably?’

  ‘It’s very hard to say anything definite in science,’ said Justin. ‘Probably’s the best we can offer.’

  ‘It’s better than nothing.’ Ed smiled back at Justin. ‘Thank God for the nerds of this world.’

  ‘But at the first sign of a cough or a cold,’ Justin added, ‘or a fever, or a rash, or spots of any kind, you get well away from me, OK? And stay away!’

  Before Ed could reply there was a flash and a thud. The whole building shook and several windows cracked.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ said Jibber-jabber, jumping up.

  ‘An explosion of some sort, I reckon,’ said Justin. He pointed towards the broken windows. ‘Coming from that direction.’

  ‘The gasholders,’ said Ed. ‘I’ll bet it was the gasholders. That decides it. We’re getting out of here now.’

  68

  ‘Looks like we ain’t going nowhere. I guess we gonna stay loyal to the general.’ DogNut made a gun of his fingers and fired two imaginary shots into the air. ‘Brap-brap!’

  ‘You’re staying?’

  ‘Yup.’

  Ed shook his head. ‘You’re crazy.’

  ‘You know it, bruv!’

  There was still a steady flow of bedraggled-looking kids tramping past the park, staring sullenly over at the museum. Ed and DogNut were standing at the back of the lorry. Justin had parked it on the grass to the side of the museum, ready to get away. The fire was obviously getting nearer. The sky was now filled with sparks and billowing smoke that burned their throats. The wind was so hot it was like opening an oven door.

  Ed threw up his hands in despair. ‘This whole place is gonna go up,’ he said, raising his voice to be heard over the noise of the fire.

  DogNut shrugged. ‘I dunno, bruv. Is all we got. We leave here, where we gonna go? What we gonna do? Maybe we need to make a stand. Get me?’

  ‘You can’t make a stand against fire.’

  ‘Jordan Hordern can. He’s one tough brother. Big boy on road.’

  ‘All right. Suit yourself. But we’re pulling out.’ Ed slapped him on the shoulder and walked towards the driver’s cab. ‘Good luck!’

  ‘Wait a minute!’ DogNut called him back. ‘The general gave me some gear for you. Thought you might find it useful.’ DogNut waved to a boy inside the museum and he came out of the side entrance wheeling a trolley piled high with weapons. Ed saw rifles, swords, axes, clubs, bayonets … A proper arsenal.

  He felt like weeping.

  ‘Jordan Hordern’s gone soft,’ he said, picking out a rifle with a fixed bayonet. ‘He’s not as tough as he makes out, is he?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said DogNut with a twisted grin. ‘He ain’t jazz. He kept all the best stuff for his-self.’

  ‘What about David?’

  DogNut sucked his teeth. ‘He got his guns.’

  Even as DogNut said it David and his boys emerged from the building and marched outside, proudly carrying their rifles on their shoulders. David shouted an order and they stopped to line up next to the lorry, trying to look all serious and military but breaking into childish grins as they checked each other out with their new toys.

  David came over to Ed.

  ‘We’re willing to act as an escort,’ he said. ‘I think if we keep together we stand a better chance of making it across the river.’

  ‘That’s very good of you, David,’ said Ed. ‘What do you want in return?’

  ‘Some of your food, obviously.’

  Ed exchanged a look with DogNut. ‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘But will you be able to keep up with us?’

  ‘Look at it,’ said David. ‘The roads are jammed. It was hard
enough travelling on them before, but now it’ll be nearly impossible. We can clear a way for you. You really don’t want to get stuck, after all.’

  ‘OK.’ Ed looked along the line of red-blazered boys. ‘You got bullets for those things, by the way?’

  ‘A few.’

  Ed walked back to the building with DogNut. ‘Last chance, DogNut.’ Ed put an arm over the skinny kid’s shoulders. ‘You sure you’re not coming? We could use someone like you.’

  ‘The DogNut is staying, blood. It’s not like Jordan’s forcing us, or nothing. Is our choice. We a team. We stay here. And we fight for what we got. Took a whole lot to win this place.’

  ‘Say goodbye to him for me,’ said Ed. ‘And thanks.’

  ‘Good luck, bro,’ said DogNut. ‘Come back and see us when the fire’s gone out.’

  Ed laughed, exchanged an awkward high five with DogNut and went back over to the lorry where the coach-party kids were waiting for him.

  ‘Right,’ he shouted. ‘Justin up front. I’ll ride with you. And Brooke?’

  ‘Yeah? What?’

  ‘You as well, in with me and Justin. The rest of you in the back.’

  As Justin climbed up into the cab, Brooke took Ed aside.

  ‘What you want me in the front with you for, then?’

  Ed sighed. ‘I know you all want me to be the leader and make all the difficult decisions,’ he said, ‘but I’m not sure I always know the best thing to do.’

  ‘Yeah? So?’

  ‘So you’re the only other one round here who gets any respect from the others. From now on, you and me, Brooke, we’re going to work together, OK?’

  Brooke shrugged, flattered, but a little scared at the same time.

  ‘OK.’

  Ed had been turned away southwards, trying to work out how far away the fire was. Now he turned to look at Brooke.

  ‘You ready, then?’

  Brooke winced and shrank away from him. Not wanting to look at the gash down the side of his face, but ghoulishly fascinated at the same time.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I keep forgetting. I still ain’t used to your, like, cut. It looks awful, Ed. You ain’t even cleaned it properly or nothing. Couldn’t you have got one of Jordan’s crew to help you?’

  Ed sighed and fingered the scab. His face hurt like hell and his eye was still swollen shut. He hoped it wasn’t damaged.

  ‘I haven’t had time,’ he said.

  ‘Ed, you got to – you don’t want it to go bad. You’ll look like crap.’

  Ed had been too busy before to think about his wound, and that was how he wanted it to stay, there was enough other stuff to worry about.

  ‘What do you reckon they could do about it anyway?’ he snapped. ‘Stick a plaster on it and give me a paracetamol? Kiss it better?’

  ‘You don’t get that seen to, there ain’t no one never gonna want to kiss you again, man,’ Brooke muttered grumpily, annoyed by Ed’s manner.

  ‘I’ll sort it out later,’ said Ed. ‘We’ve got to get going. It’ll be dark soon, or at least it would be if it wasn’t for the fire.’

  ‘At least let me clean it,’ said Brooke. ‘You got, like, bog paper and stuff stuck to it. It looks well nasty.’ Brooke reached out a hand towards Ed’s face then snatched it away with a grimace.

  ‘You look like one of them,’ she said. ‘You ain’t turning into Frédérique, are you?’

  ‘Just get on the lorry, Brooke, and let’s get out of here.’

  69

  The lorry ploughed through the railings at the side of the park, flattening them, and the kids in the back cheered. As soon as they hit the road, however, they had to slow down. It was choked with fleeing children. The lorry rumbled forward at a snail’s pace, David and his boys clearing a path, shoving aside kids to stop them from being run down, shifting piles of debris that were blocking the street, shunting away broken-down cars. It seemed that every few metres there was another obstacle in the road. Once they even had to move a collapsed advertising hoarding.

  As they cleared a railway bridge, they finally came to a complete stop. There was yet another abandoned car in their way. David’s boys fussed about as the lorry sat there shaking and hissing and Ed grew more and more frustrated. He hated being stuck in the claustrophobic cab not able to do anything except watch. Justin was sweating and swearing, teetering on the verge of panic. Brooke was moody and twitchy being separated from her friends. She kept sneaking disgusted glances at Ed’s face. In the end Ed could stand it no longer. He kicked the door open and jumped down to help David’s lot with the car.

  Once the road was clear he decided to stay and walk with them for a while.

  From down here the lorry looked huge as it moved slowly through the crowds. He was reminded of those old dinosaur films, where the dying dinosaurs have to escape some terrible natural disaster. There would be lots of small fast-moving dinosaurs, maybe even the odd early mammal or two, and there, in the middle of it all, a lumbering, hulking apatosaurus or the like.

  It was taking too long. Behind them the fire was growing ever closer, travelling faster than they were, steadily eating away at London. Ed could hear the roar and crackle of it and see unbelievably big flames clawing at the sky over the rooftops of the houses. There were distant screams, but it was impossible to tell, in all the confusion, which direction they were coming from.

  At last, though, they reached the river, where the road opened out. Ahead of them was a large roundabout, and on the far side of it was Lambeth Bridge, flanked by two tall stone obelisks that were topped with what looked like pineapples. To the left was a modern glass and steel apartment block with curved walls, to the right, in sharp contrast, was what looked like a medieval church and beyond that the square redbrick Tudor buildings of Lambeth Palace. The church sat in its own gardens, which were filled with children waiting to cross the bridge.

  A major road ran along the river here, and it, too, was packed. The sheer number of kids was causing a dangerous bottleneck and nobody seemed to be moving. Traffic was stuck on the bridge, and children were having to climb over cars or squeeze past them to get anywhere. It was chaos. There were dogs barking, horns blaring, boys and girls of all ages sitting in the road clutching their pathetic bundles of belongings. As more and more kids arrived they milled around, pushing and shoving each other.

  ‘We’ll never get over,’ said one of David’s boys, staring at the solid mass of people on the bridge.

  ‘We have to,’ said Ed. ‘None of the other bridges will be any better. And we’d never get to them in time anyway.’

  Somewhere off to the left there was an explosion. A fountain of vividly coloured sparks shot up into the air and a second later everyone felt the force of it as a shockwave passed through the crowd, starting a panic. There was a stampede, but with nowhere to go the mass of kids surged in all directions, knocking each other over and trampling smaller kids underfoot.

  Ed tugged at his hair and bit the skin around his fingernails. Was this really happening? The black mood of despair settled over him again. He didn’t have the energy to cope. He’d used up everything he had. He slipped his rifle off his shoulder, closed his eyes, slid slowly down one of the huge rear tyres of the lorry and sat on the tarmac. He put his hands over his ears to block out the sound of screaming.

  They were all going to die here, on this stupid bloody road. And it was his fault. He should never have led the kids away from the safety of the museum.

  70

  The fire had reached the museum. Fanned by the strong winds it had torn through the houses at the rear and leapt up into a line of big trees at the edge of the park. Now, finally, one of the trees toppled over and crashed into the corner of the museum, ripping it open.

  Smoke started to spread through the galleries.

  Jordan was up in his office making plans with a small group of boys. DogNut was outside by the naval guns, watching the chaos and confusion. Smoke wafted in clumps across the park that was garishly lit up by
the nearby fires.

  DogNut was beginning to wish he’d gone with Ed and the others. The sheer power of the fire was terrifying. He’d never known anything like it. It was an unstoppable elemental force. Could they really hold out here?

  He went back inside. Boys were sitting with their heads bowed, exhausted by the fear and stress. DogNut blinked. His friends looked vague and hazy, as if there was a veil hanging in the air between them. He looked up at the Spitfire dangling from the ceiling. It was lost in a grey fog.

  DogNut swallowed. His throat hurt.

  ‘Look at that.’ One of the boys was pointing to the back of the atrium.

  A long tendril of smoke was crawling across the floor. It looped around one of the tanks.

  Then DogNut became aware of a hissing, shuffling sound. Like waves raking over small pebbles on a beach.

  Was it fire making the sound, or something else?

  Footsteps. Heavy breathing.

  A father came shambling up the stairs, drool hanging from his lower lip. Behind him, other dark shapes were emerging from the smoke.

  DogNut drew his katana from its sheath.

  ‘They’re in!’

  71

  ‘Get up!’

  Ed tilted his head back and squinted at David. He was standing over him, clutching his rifle, a black shape against a fiery sky.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Get up, Ed.’

  ‘What’s the point?’

  David took hold of Ed’s jacket and hauled him to his feet.

  ‘You might want to sit here and get barbecued,’ he said, ‘but I don’t. Everyone needs to do his bit. I’ve sent Pod and three others forward to try and find out what’s happening on the bridge. The rest of my squad are guarding the lorry. We can’t let anything happen to the cargo.’

  Ed took a deep breath. ‘Maybe we should just abandon it,’ he said. ‘If everyone got out and walked it’d be a lot easier to get across.’

  ‘Is that really what you want to do?’