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by Robert Muchamore

  ‘I’m sorry. OK?’ ‘What use is sorry when you’re dead? We could have all been killed because of you.’ My nose dripped a trail of red dots onto the road. I bent over to pick up the rifle, but Sami kicked it

  away. ‘Don’t bother with it,’ Sami shouted. ‘Chuck it in the trees. You’ll never clean that mess up. Take yourself one of the M16s and any other stuff the soldiers have got, then drag the bodies into the bushes. I’ll move the spikes.’ ‘All right, I know I messed up, Sami. You don’t have to be a total bitch about it.’ ‘Don’t push your luck Killer,’ Sami shouted, backing away from me. ‘One more word out of that mouth and I’m gonna kick every tooth out of your stupid head.’

  . . .

  Sami was fitter and tougher than me. Usually she compensated, by taking some of my weight and going slower than she could; but I’d pissed her off and she was in no mood to coddle me. My nose was stuffed with congealed blood, my pack was heavier than usual because we were staying out overnight; plus there was the hangover and the fact it was unbelievably hot. Most days you thought it couldn’t get any hotter, but the man upstairs always seemed to find another notch on the thermostat.

  After an hour walking at Sami’s pace, I got a massive stitch down my side and I had to stop. She walked back to me. ‘Get up,’ she shouted. ‘I thought you loved me,’ I gasped. ‘Love isn’t an excuse to let you get away with being an idiot. If Captain finds out what state your gun

  was in, he’ll have you whipped.’ ‘Are you going to tell him?’ ‘I should, but I’m too much of a softie,’ Sami said. ‘Count yourself lucky that all I’m doing is making

  you work up a little sweat.’ ‘I’ve got a stitch,’ I said. ‘Please give us five minutes break.’ Sami threw down her pack and took a slug out of her water bottle. ‘Two minutes,’ She said. Sami wasn’t even out of breath.

  . . .

  The lake was about a kilometre across and three long. We knew the size from the map, but we hadn’t counted on the wall of tangled vegetation that made getting near the water almost impossible.

  We walked slowly, keeping our eyes peeled for a hut or pathway. It soon got monotonous. Sami gave up being annoyed with me and we walked close together. I was sweat drenched, insect bitten and my ankles howled for a rest.

  The whole scheme seemed hopeless. Half an hour before dark, we found a small clearing and gave up. We pitched a lightweight tent that had been taken off a dead mercenary, kicked off our boots and opened up some canned meat. It smelled slightly better than dog food, but the chunks were set in the same kind of clear jelly and the heat had turned it into warm, greasy, sludge. We could have foraged for something tastier, but we’d been on our feet for eight hours and didn’t have the strength. I could only swallow by closing my eyes and pretending it was something else. A couple of times I actually retched. ‘We’re never going to find him like this,’ Sami said. ‘It sucks,’ I said miserably. ‘We’ve got all day tomorrow, but it doesn’t look good.’ ‘We need a different strategy,’ Sami said. ‘We can’t just look. We’ve got to attract their attention.’ ‘How?’ ‘Build a big fire,’ Sami said. ‘They should see the smoke and flames, even in the dark. That’s gonna put them on alert. Then we’ll go around the lake, stopping every few hundred metres and shouting your brother’s name.’

  It sounded like a good plan. I looked at Sami and a shiver went up my back when I realised how brilliant she was and how I couldn’t imagine a day without her.

  ‘Course,’ Sami said. ‘That’s not the only attention we’ll get. We’re only a few kilometres from where we killed three soldiers and burned down Grandma’s house.’ ‘You reckon the army will come out here in the dark?’ ‘Depends,’ Sami said. ‘Not if it’s just conscripts. But after we ripped off the money, there’s probably all

  kinds of psychos around here looking for us.’ ‘You want to risk it?’ I asked. ‘I don’t think were gonna find Adam any other way.’ The sense of hope reenergized me. We gathered dry timber, racing to get as much as possible before it

  turned dark. We got a huge pile together and some fresh wood to throw on once the fire was established. We took a breather while the sun set, kissing for the first time since my gun jammed. ‘Sorry I punched you,’ Sami said, nibbling on my earlobe. ‘I did nearly get the three of us killed. Thanks for not telling Captain.’ ‘I couldn’t really,’ Sami laughed. ‘You’re too soft. I bet you’d cry after two licks.’ ‘I’m tougher than you think.’ ‘I kicked your arse easy enough this morning,’ Sami giggled. ‘That’s because I was being a gentleman and I didn’t want to hurt you back,’ I said, struggling to keep a

  straight face. ‘Whatever you say, macho man… Anyway, we better start looking for baby brother before you get over

  tired and start whining for your Mommy.’ Sami flicked her lighter under some kindling. We soon had a massive blaze going. I stood as near to the

  lake as I could and started screaming: ‘ADAM PASCAL. ADAM PASCAL. IT’S ME, JAKE.’ It echoed over the still water. ‘COME TO THE FIRE.’ Once we put the damp branches and leaves over the flames, a thick plume of smoke rose into the sky.

  We began circling the lake. The smoke was visible in the moonlight when we looked back. ‘ADAM PASCAL.’ After about ten minutes, my throat started getting raw and Sami took over shouting duties. ‘ADAM PASCAL.’ At first, I thought the noise was just Sami’s echo. Then something came back stronger. ‘WHOOOOOUUUU.’ ‘You hear that?’ I asked. Sami nodded at me, then shouted, ‘IS THAT ADAM?’ The second time we heard it, we worked it out: ‘WHO ARE YOU?’ ‘I’M SAMI,’ she shouted back. ‘I’M JAKE’S FRIEND.’ I shot my revolver into the air. A burst of automatic fire ripped back at us across the lake. ‘SEE YOU NEAR THE FIRE,’ the man’s voice shouted back. It was a total buzz. I gave Sami a quick kiss and we ran back towards the fire. ‘Better be careful,’ Sami said. ‘Just in case it’s a trap.’ We hid in bushes near to the fire and waited about ten minutes before the next shout came. ‘CAN YOU HEAR ME?’ I recognised Adam’s voice. ‘HEY MIDGET,’ I shouted back. ‘ARE YOU OK?’

  ‘GOOD… YOU?’ He can’t have been more that thirty meters away. I couldn’t stop myself from crying. ‘FINE. BILLY SAYS I SHOULD ASK YOU A QUESTION, IN CASE IT’S NOT REALLY YOU,’ Adam shouted. ‘GO ON.’ ‘WHAT TEAM DO YOU SUPPORT?’ ‘ARSENAL. I’LL ASK YOU ONE BACK… WHAT’S YOUR GIRLFRIEND’S NAME?’ ‘MARIAH ISN’T MY GIRLFRIEND,’ Adam shouted back furiously. ‘I ONLY WENT TO HER

  STUPID PARTY BECAUSE MUM MADE ME.’ I stepped out of the bushes with my hands in the air and walked towards the fire. Adam ran out of the dark. He was wearing trainers and a pair of shorts made out of leopard skin. I picked him up and hugged him. We both had massive grins and tears running everywhere. ‘Billy said the army must have killed you.’ ‘I thought the same about you,’ I sobbed. ‘Are you OK?’ It felt so amazing. His little fingers holding onto my back. The smell of his breath. The funny little double shake and sniffle he always did when he cried. You don’t realise how much you love your family until you get pulled apart.

  A handsome fellow emerged from the bush. He looked about thirty, with capped white teeth and a square jaw.

  ‘You must be Billy,’ I said, taking one arm off Adam and grasping his hand. ‘We’ve got Grandma back at our camp.’ ‘I thought she’d died in the fire.’ Billy smiled. ‘That’s good news. She’s such a sweet little thing.’ ‘Thanks for looking after my brother. He looks in great shape.’ I wasn’t flattering him. Adam usually existed on a diet of Skittles, Happy Meals and Gameboy

  Advance. Mum drove him everywhere. Fish, fruit and daily exercise had slimmed him down quite a bit. ‘He tells so many stories about your exploits,’ Billy said. ‘I feel like I know you already, Jake.’ I turned around and looked for Sami. She was tiptoeing with her hands behind her back, like a little

  girl who’d done something bad. ‘Hello Billy,’ Sami said. ‘I remember your show.’ Billy waggled his finger and showed us his lines of perfect teeth. ‘But the question is,’ Billy said d
ramatically. ‘How much do you think it’s worth?’ Sami stared at the ground, grinning. She looked like she was about to wet her knickers. ‘Oh my god,’ She squealed, jumping daintily into the air. ‘I can’t believe I’m standing in front of Billy Mango.’

  18. BILLY

  Sami claimed the Billy Mango story was a legend across central Africa. He was a poor eighteen year old, whose family lived in a shanty town on the edge of the capital. He’d wander the streets looking for odd jobs. When he couldn’t find work - which was most of the time - he’d put on his best clothes and hang out with hundreds of others at the back of the national television station, vying to be a contestant on the nation’s number one quiz show, Name The Price?’

  After months of baking in the sun outside the studio, young Billy was finally picked as a contestant. Before the live show went on air, the host collapsed with a bout of malaria and had to be taken to hospital. A replacement was urgently required, preferably someone good looking and neatly dressed, who’d already been through make up. Billy raised his arm. He invented himself a new surname and was a hit with the studio audience; particularly when he pointed to every contestant and said the words that would become his catchphrase: But the question is, how much do you think it’s worth?

  Billy hosted the next evening and every evening the following week. The story made the newspapers and the show’s ratings nearly doubled. When the original host returned from hospital, he was jeered by the studio audience. He only lasted two shows before Billy Mango was reinstated as his permanent replacement. Over the next few years, Billy Mango made and squandered a fortune from TV shows, endorsements, personal appearances and pop singles.

  When Sami shared a room with three of her sisters, they had a row of Billy Mango CDs and posters of him pinned on their wall. Sami told me that one time she threw a tantrum at a petrol station, bawling her head off until Captain bought her a Billy Mango key ring.

  When the war came, the television station was bombed by rebels and nobody was paying for advertisements or CDs. Billy had managed to spend more than he earned, so he had nothing to bribe his way out when the army conscripted him.

  The life of a conscript wasn’t great for anyone. Hard training, rubbish food and brutal discipline, but it was even worse for Billy. He might as well have had a target painted on his back. Every bully and thug enjoyed dishing it out to the former celebrity. When he couldn’t take it any more, Billy stuffed his few remaining possessions in his pack and disappeared into the jungle…

  . . . We put out the fire and headed towards Billy’s hut. ‘Me and my sisters all used to guess the prices,’ Sami said. ‘I was the littlest so I always got them wrong.

  Like, guessing a fridge cost twenty dollars or something… And remember the time you came on stage and dropped your microphone? Then you bent over and ripped those tight trousers.’ Adam laughed when he heard that. Billy smiled, ‘I can’t believe you remember all this. You must have only been five or six.’ ‘We were all massive fans. My sister, Katya, sent off and got your signed photograph.’ ‘My cousin made more money out of the signed photos than I did on the show. They were churning

  out two thousand a week.’ ‘Must have killed your wrist, writing all those signatures.’ Billy laughed, ‘I never signed them. The TV station gave me some lessons, but I can hardly write my

  name even now.’ ‘Oh,’ Sami said. ‘Katya would be so gutted if she found out.’ ‘Has she still got it?’ Billy asked. ‘She’s dead,’ Sami said. ‘All my brothers and sisters are. I haven’t seen a TV show for seven years.’ ‘I often wonder where I’d be now, if the war hadn’t come,’ Billy said. ‘I had a wife. She probably thinks

  I’m dead.’ Billy led us inside his hut. He’d been alone for five years until Adam came, venturing onto the roads only to scavenge through the wreckage after an ambush. His hut showed signs of being built by a man with a huge amount of free time. There was an air of perfection about the place; as if hours had been spent creating every snug fitting beam and neatly tied joint. The floor was covered in animal skins and there were bone carvings lined up on shelves: tiny models of animals, a steam locomotive attached to a line of carriages, and even a near perfect Mercedes, identical to one Billy had once owned.

  Billy was short of candles. He set a small fire beneath the chimney in the middle of the hut. It’s surprising how well your eyes work in dim lighting once they adjust. I sat on a soft pile of leopard skins, with one arm around Sami and the other around Adam. Adam was playing with my M16. Billy sat on the opposite side of the spacious hut, looking sad. Adam was his only company and he wasn’t looking forward to loosing it. ‘You could come back with us,’ I said. ‘Be a rebel fighter.’ Billy shook his head, ‘I was alone before, I’ll be alone again. I made a decision never to harm another

  person.’ I paused for thought when he said that. We’d killed four soldiers on our way here. I’d got so used to

  killing, it meant no more to me than if I’d stepped on a few bugs ‘I’ll miss playing tag with you, Billy,’ Adam said. Then turning to me, ‘We do it every morning, but he

  always cheats by tickling me.’ ‘How will you get home?’ Billy asked. ‘The rebels are pushing forward. If we can get out east, the three of us should be able to get a bus into

  Uganda.’ Adam looked at me, ‘Who’s three of us?’ ‘Me, you and Sami.’ ‘Why’s she coming?’ Adam grinned. ‘Is she your girlfriend?’ ‘We’re getting married.’ Adam gave me a weird look, ‘Eh?’ ‘I love Sami. She’s coming home with us.’ Adam started to crack up laughing, ‘Oh right. I can just see Mum’s face when you turn up with a wife.’ ‘It might be a bit tricky,’ I said. ‘But she’ll just have to live with it.’ ‘Jake, Mum won’t even let me have a dog.’ ‘Well, I’m a lot older than you.’ Adam was laughing so much he could hardly breathe. ‘A wife!’ he screamed, kicking his bare feet in the air. He was rolling around with spit dribbling all down his face. I’d forgotten how annoying he could be. ‘You’ll be dead,’ he snorted. ‘You’ll be so dead.’ The thing was, the little brat had a point.

  . . .

  The four of us slept comfortably. We weren’t meeting Desi until the evening, so Adam and Billy had the whole day to say goodbye. When we got up, Adam wanted all of us to play tag. It had rained in the night. As the sun heated everything up, the moisture rose off the plants in a fine mist. Billy had made Adam a feather headdress, which combined with the leopard skin shorts and trainers made him look like something out of a school play.

  Adam and Billy ran and chased each other. It wasn’t a proper game of tag, more of an excuse for the two of them to rumble and trade insults. Me and Sami were surplus to requirements. We propped ourselves against Billy’s hut and watched them play, with our arms round each other’s backs. ‘Grandma certainly made the right decision, giving Adam to Billy,’ Sami said, nuzzling my neck. ‘I almost feel bad taking him away,’ I said. ‘I never spend that amount of time playing with him.’ ‘What he said last night about your Mum not accepting me. Is that true?’ I tried to make light of it, ‘She certainly isn’t going to like it.’ Sami started at the ground between her legs. ‘It’s normal to get married at our age here,’ I said. ‘But not in England. My Mum will come around.’ ‘What if she doesn’t?’ Sami asked. ‘Sami, we’ve got about fifty massive hurdles to jump over and my Mother is the fiftieth one. You know

  I love you right?’ ‘Yes,’ Sami said. ‘And you love me?’

  ‘Yes.’ ‘Well that’s all that matters. The rest of the world is just problems we’ve got to solve.’ Sami leaned over and we started snogging. A piece of fruit whacked the back of my head. We broke off. Adam was standing a few metres away, his chest was covered in thousands of balls of sweat. He was out of breath from mucking around with Billy. ‘What was that for midget?’ I asked. ‘Wasn’t me,’ Adam giggled. ‘I think it fell out of the tree.’ Sami looked at Adam, ‘Don’t you like me kissing Jake?’ Adam went all shy and looked at his feet. ‘Would you prefer it if I kissed you?’ Sami asked.
‘Gross,’ Adam said. Sami laughed, ‘Bet you’d like it. In fact, I’m gonna give you big wet kisses all over.’ Adam smiled, ‘No you’re not.’ Sami got up and lunged towards him. ‘It’s smoochy time,’ Sami giggled. Adam span round and started running away. Sami crashed through the undergrowth, chasing after him.

  He ran behind Billy and started screaming. ‘Protect me. Protect me.’ Billy turned traitor and locked his arms around Adam’s waist, so he was trapped. Sami planted the

  soggiest kiss she could manage on Adam’s cheek. ‘AAAGGGHHH,’ Adam screamed. ‘You’ve probably given me some disgusting disease you caught off Jake.’

  . . .

  Adam got really sad as the day went on. He kept asking how long it was before we had to leave. When it got down to an hour, he cuddled up to Billy and started to cry. He wanted Billy to come with us, but Billy wouldn’t have it. Billy didn’t want to fight for anyone. Maybe it was cowardice, but I admired the strength of character it took to live peacefully where a life was worth less than a few bags of food. ‘I’ll never see you again,’ Adam sobbed. ‘We’ll always be friends in here,’ Billy said, tapping his head. ‘Besides, you’ll see me on TV after I make

  my big comeback.’ I found a piece of paper for Adam to write our address and telephone number on, vaguely amused at the prospect of Billy Mango ringing up our house in the middle of Eastenders. Billy tore a strip off the paper and gave Sami his real autograph. He printed jaggedy letters, with big gaps between, like a kid in year one.