‘Mum?’
She stopped in the doorway.
‘Mum? Is that you?’
She turned. Macca was sitting up. His eyes were very shiny, haunted. She walked over to him and eased him back down on to the pillows.
‘It’s all right, Macca,’ she said. ‘It’s all right, go back to sleep.’
‘I don’t want to go to school tomorrow, Mum. I don’t feel well. Is it all right if I don’t?’
‘Yeah, of course it’s all right. You don’t need to go to school if you don’t feel up to it.’
‘OK. Is it all right if I go on my PlayStation, though? I know I’m supposed to be ill, but I’m well enough to go on the PlayStation, aren’t I?’
‘Yeah. Why not? You can do whatever you want, Macca.’
‘Yeah … of an. … And could I … and I … and is there … why is there? Where are you? Why am I here?’
Brooke looked at Macca. He was crying. She wiped the tears away with the flannel. His eyes seemed to focus. He stared intently at her.
‘I’m really scared, Brooke,’ he said, back in reality.
Brooke found this harder to deal with. She didn’t want to tell him the truth.
‘I’m hurt really bad,’ he said. ‘I can’t swallow and I’m scared that I’m going to die.’
‘Don’t think about it, Macca. Worrying won’t help. You just need to rest and get stronger.’
‘Do you believe in God?’
‘I don’t know. That’s a weird question.’
‘And that’s a terrible answer.’
‘It’s the truth. I never think about all that. I don’t know if there’s a God.’
‘Me either. But I’m scared there’s nothing there. Just nothing. Like blankness.’
‘Don’t think about it, Macca.’
‘Billy.’
‘What?’
‘Billy, it’s my name. William McIntyre.’
‘I never knew that.’
‘Nobody does. Everyone calls me Macca. Or Maccy. My mum used to call me Billy, no one else.’
‘Do you want me to call you Billy?’
‘Don’t matter. I’m not bothered … I just, I just wanted you to know … what my name was. My real name. It’s important. You see, if you bury me will you write my real name? On a stone, or something? I don’t know how it works, I never went to church. I don’t know how it is, with, like, God and all that. How you get into heaven. But they should know my real name at least, I think. William McIntyre.’
‘Don’t think about all that, Macca.’
‘It’s not fair, is it really? I’m only just fifteen. It’s not really long enough for a life. There was lots of things I wanted to do.’
‘Oh, Macca, will you stop it now? You’ll have me blubbing. And I never cry.’
‘You know when we was getting out of the car …?’ said Macca. ‘When that sicko … Was it recently or was it last year? When was it?’
‘Just a few days ago.’
‘Yeah? OK. It must of been a dream then?’
‘What?’
‘Us doing all them other things together. You and me. We went travelling all over. Fighting sickos. Must of dreamt that bit. Never mind. It was still cool. But you, when we were getting out of the car, there was something you were going to tell me. What was it, Brooke? I’ve been thinking about it.’
‘I don’t know, Billy. I can’t remember.’
‘For real?’
‘Yeah, for real. Go to sleep and stop worrying about stuff.’
‘But was it a good thing or a bad thing?’
‘A good thing obviously. Why would I say a bad thing to you?’
‘I’ve never been up to much. I’ve always been a bit small for my age. I never had a proper girlfriend. Girls never went for me, so I used to bad-mouth them. If I get well will you be my proper girlfriend?’
‘Of course I will,’ said Brooke without blinking.
He closed his eyes.
Brooke threw the flannel back into the bowl and it hit with a splosh, spilling water on to the floor.
Despite what Norman had said about him having no chance, she wasn’t going to let Macca die. She was going to keep him alive. She’d make him well. She’d do everything she could.
So that when he was fit enough, and knew what was going on, she’d tell him exactly what she thought of him.
Yeah.
She realized she was crying.
‘Now look what you’ve done,’ she said.
42
Lewis was chopping wood with Ed. He’d been enjoying it out there in the garden, practising his axe skills, feeling good when the blade bit into an upended log and it fell into two neat halves. Feeling frustrated when his aim was off and he only sliced a pathetic splinter of wood from the log or sent it spinning away into the long grass. He hadn’t realized how stressed he’d been before. Oh, he showed a front to the world that he was Mister Cool, half asleep, that nothing bugged him. But he was human.
It was different for boneheaded Kyle. Kyle was bored. Kyle was restless, wanted to be out there cracking skulls. Kyle was your basic psychopath. He was over there now, on the opposite side of the garden, doing some target practice with Ebenezer.
Lewis was happy to lose himself in work. Have a little holiday. Driving the car, pretending he was on top of it, on the edge of panic the whole way, had been hard. So it was nice to just chill for a bit. There was a lot of violence in his past, and there would be a lot in his future, he was sure of that, but for now it was Zen, brother. Peace and love and happiness. Chop that wood. Thock, thock, thock. Pretend that there was nothing outside these walls. That the world was OK. Chillax, get his strength up, refill the ice in his cool box.
He prayed that Macca would hold on, because as long as he was alive they were going to stay put. How long had it been now? A week maybe? Ed getting more miserable every day. Lewis knew it was selfish, that he mainly wanted Macca to stay alive so that he could stay here in the garden, but you had to be selfish, didn’t you? Had to look after yourself. There was no one else to do that for you. No Mum and Dad, no teachers or doctors or police. He definitely knew his own mum and dad weren’t ever going to look after him again, because he’d killed them both. Strangled them in their beds when they’d got ill.
That seemed a way long time ago.
Best not to dig up any of them old memories.
There was a shout from across the garden. It was Kyle, throwing a spear into his target – an old door that they’d painted a crude picture of a sicko on to. Ebenezer cheered and Kyle cackled. The spear had got the sicko in the crotch. Kyle had been making weapons out of old gardening tools and bits of wood and scrap metal they’d found around the place. Apparently, when Kyle had first met Ed, he’d been armed with a garden fork. He’d come up in the world since then, raided the armouries at the Tower of London. His axe was a mean killing machine.
Lewis looked over to where Amelia was sitting with Trinity round a garden table under a wooden structure that was covered with a climbing rose. Jug of water and bottle of lemonade sparkling in the sunlight. Like something out of an old advert. Happy families. The grandchildren visit their granny … except that Trinity looked well odd, the two bodies, boy and girl, joined together, like something out of one of the Percy Jackson books Lewis had been into when he was younger, before football took over.
Trinity wasn’t no monster, though. He mustn’t think that. They could read minds, couldn’t they?
‘That’ll do for now,’ Ed grunted and chucked a split log into a wheelbarrow.
Lewis still wasn’t sure about Ed. He was sorted enough to be a leader, but was he a fighter as well? ‘You see your man Macca?’ said Lewis.
‘Yeah?’ Ed was stooped over, picking up logs and lobbing them into the barrow.
‘Reminds me of this guy Arran, yeah? Was one of the kids led us out of Holloway. I never really knew him that good. Blue was my general. Anyways, he got bit in the neck, same as Macca.’
Ed started to w
heel the barrow away. ‘You’re going to tell me he died, aren’t you?’ he said.
‘Yeah,’ said Lewis, following. ‘But not from the wound. He got hit by an arrow. Right in the chest. Was an accident. This girl, Sophie, shot him by mistake. That’s what did it for him. Only thing is, maybe it was for the best. Quick, you know?’
‘You suggesting I go up and shoot Macca with a bow and arrow?’
Lewis yawned, scratched his Afro, untangling a knot, staying cool.
‘No way, man,’ he said. ‘I’m just saying …’
‘What are you saying?’
‘Dunno.’
‘Yeah.’
Lewis felt uncomfortable around Ed. Knew he wanted to be gone from here. So he left him to stack the logs on the log pile and walked over to the table. Pulled up a chair. Helped himself to a glass of lemonade.
Trinity was deep in conversation with Amelia.
‘So, if I understand you right,’ Trey was saying, ‘the disease is parasitical.’
‘That’s right,’ said Amelia.
‘What, you mean like a bug?’ Lewis butted in. ‘An insect thing?’
‘Along those lines, yes,’ said Amelia.
‘It moved from this tribe in the rainforest into the scientists who were studying them,’ Trio explained. ‘Scientists from Promithios, from Medicines Without Frontiers and loads of other organizations out there.’
‘From all around the world,’ said Amelia.
Lewis remembered the Twisted Kids talking about Promithios back at the museum. It’s where their parents had worked and where they’d been hiding out when Blue found them.
‘They were immunized and screened for all known diseases,’ said Amelia. ‘They were the experts in their field.’
‘So how come no one spotted this new sickness?’ said Lewis.
‘It was able to hide,’ Trey explained. ‘Amelia thinks it’s in some ways intelligent.’
‘What? Like an intelligent tiny bug thing from outer space?’ Lewis nodded his head, grinning. ‘Cool. I mean, bad, yeah, but cool.’
‘Well, maybe not intelligent like we’d understand it,’ said Amelia. ‘But it knows how to survive.’
‘When the parasite gets into you, it can control you,’ said Trey. ‘It was like the bugs hot-wired themselves into people, started becoming part of them, part of their brains, part of their bodies. They were able to mimic human cells, disguise themselves as, like, blood cells or whatever.’
‘Individually they’re nothing,’ said Trio. ‘But once they get inside enough bodies, once there’s millions of them out there, they create a sort of super brain. A neural network. Like how scientists sometimes link up loads of different computers to work together solving massive problems.’
‘And hackers,’ said Lewis. ‘Mate of mine was a hacker. Used to link up computers from all over.’
‘That’s exactly it,’ said Amelia, and Lewis felt proud he’d understood some of this.
‘Think of the parasites as hackers,’ Amelia went on. ‘Or as a computer virus, a Trojan Horse, getting inside every computer in the network and controlling it, able to stop any antivirus software from detecting it and destroying it. It was most important for the disease to hide, to keep itself secret until it was strong enough. That’s what was going on with Promithios. We used to have dealings with them and I always felt that there was a lot they weren’t telling us. I could never have known that what they weren’t telling us about was you.’
Amelia was looking at Trinity with a look of sympathy and wonder.
‘It was only our parents,’ said Trey. ‘Nobody else in the company even knew. Our mums and dads realized there was something wrong with us even before we were born, and they closed up tight, hid themselves away. Hid us away … The Twisted Kids.’
‘It was the disease working,’ said Amelia. ‘Controlling their minds. And it’s almost as if you were a sort of experiment, as if the disease was …’ Amelia suddenly stopped speaking, gave a little gasp and put her hand to her mouth. She half rose from her seat, staring at Trinity.
The Twisted Kids had collapsed, so that they were bent double, their faces resting on the table.
Amelia slumped back into her seat, too exhausted to get up.
Ed came over, looking concerned.
‘What’s happened?’
‘They suddenly went all wobbly and faint,’ said Amelia. ‘Their eyes rolled back in their heads and down they went. I think they’ve passed out. Are they all right? I hope they’re all right.’
And then she gasped again. There was something moving on Trinity’s back.
‘Oh. My. God,’ said Lewis.
Mister Three had woken up.
43
Mister Three had a shrunken, shrivelled-up appearance, with a squashed nose, a few strands of greasy hair and little grey teeth. His skin was so wrinkled that he looked older, like a little old man, or a goblin, but Lewis knew that must be an illusion. The guy was the same age as Trey and Trio. Had to be. He was part of them, had been born with them. He was twitching and blinking, coughing to clear his throat. He blinked again and peered around at everyone with bloodshot eyes.
‘What are you looking at?’ he said in the nasal, hard-edged voice of a teenager whose voice was breaking. ‘You never seen a talking growth before?’
Nobody knew what to say to this.
‘So? What am I, late for the party?’ he said. He had two skinny arms that flailed about and thrashed in the air as if he wasn’t used to using them.
‘What’s the matter?’ he said. ‘Didn’t expect me to show up? Law of three, peeps. If you want Trey and Trio you get me as well. We come as a set.’
‘What have you done to the others?’ Amelia asked.
‘Done, Granny? I haven’t done anything. We’re just readjusting, kind of recalibrating, yeah? I mean, when all’s said and done, we’re one. Don’t worry. I won’t be here long. They’ll come round in a minute. I’ve had a sudden rush of blood to the head, if you see what I mean, and they’ve had a sudden drastic oxygen shortage. Once in a blue moon I get a chance to sing – I’m coming out! That’s me. Jack-in-the-box. Mister Three. It’s demeaning, don’t you think? That name. Like I’m some kind of a freak. Circus performer. The Amazing Mister Three! You know what I always wanted to be called?’
‘What?’ said Lewis.
‘Colin,’ said the little creature. ‘Call me Colin.’
‘Why Colin?’ Lewis asked.
‘Why not? You got a problem with that name?’
‘Nope.’
Mister Three coughed again, retched and then spat out a sticky yellow gob of phlegm, laced with blood.
‘Are you all right, Colin?’ Amelia asked. ‘Can I get you a glass of water?’
‘Oh, stop it, stop it,’ Three cackled. ‘I can’t take it any more. Stop with the Colin stuff.’
‘But you said …’
‘Stupid old git!’ Three shook his head at Amelia, laughing horribly. ‘Course I don’t want to be called Colin. Who’d choose to be called Colin?’
‘Well, what then?’ said Lewis. ‘What you want us to call you?’
‘You can call me anything you bloody well like,’ said Mister Three. ‘It doesn’t make any difference really, does it? I’m not going to be around for long. These little spurts of consciousness never last. They’ll start to take control again, them two, the sleeping beauties, and I’ll be sent back to Coventry. I’m just trying to take it all in, sorting through all their new thoughts and memories, but it seems like you’ve been filling their heads with all kinds of crap. There’s too much for me, it’s overloading my circuits. And the damned fallen, they are loud today! Woke me up with their singing. Never known anything like it …’
‘What do you mean?’ Ed looked anxious, wanting to know more. ‘You mean sickos? Grown-ups? What’s happening?’
‘There’s a lot of them on their way. There’s a wave breaking.’
Trio was stirring. She started to rise, pushing with her hands on t
he table top, dragging up Trey, whose head lolled down on a floppy neck. Trio looked drowsy and confused. She fixed on Lewis and tried to focus.
‘It’s him, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘He’s woken up. Embarrassing. I’m like a drunk at a teenage party who’s been at Daddy’s vodka. Oh wow, that is some monster headache. Ciao, Mister Three, how have you been?’
‘You can call me Colin.’
‘Yeah? Last time it was Neil.’
‘Ha, ha, yeah. That was a good one.’
‘Nearly as good as Roger.’
‘Roger and out …’
‘You going so soon?’
Mister Three stretched out his arms and yawned.
‘I don’t want to nod out, Trio. Truth is I want to stay forever, but you two are too strong for me. I was just telling your friends here about the wave.’
‘What wave?’
‘The fallen, they’re coming, sister. We need to be careful …’
‘Please. You need to tell us what you mean exactly.’ Ed reached out towards him, as if he was going to shake him to keep him awake, but he held back at the last moment, unsure of touching him.
Now Trey was coming round. His eyelids fluttered. He groaned, put a hand to his head and squeezed his temples with thumb and fingers.
‘I feel sick,’ he said.
‘At least you’re awake,’ said Mister Three and he sounded sad and disappointed. ‘You can smell the coffee …’ He yawned again. ‘Be careful …’
He closed his eyes, curled up and folded himself into Trinity’s back.
Ed swore and looked at Amelia who pretended she hadn’t heard.
‘Well, that was special.’ Brooke was standing in the doorway from the house. Lewis had no idea how long she’d been there. All their attention had been on Mister Three.
‘Sorry,’ said Trio. ‘He doesn’t get out much. Not a lot of social skills.’
Brooke took a few paces from under the climbing rose and stood in the sun. Lewis realized he hadn’t seen her here in the garden before. She spent all her time with Macca …
He felt suddenly cold.
‘Is he asleep?’ he asked. Brooke shook her head, said nothing, looked like she’d crack into pieces if she tried to speak.
The Hunted Page 23
