The Recruit

by Robert Muchamore

  Kerry tore the bags up, covered her feet in the boot-cleaning rags and then wrapped them with plastic. She tore holes in bin bags to make a plastic smock and skirt for herself and James. They looked like muddy scarecrows, but the important thing was it kept out the cold. James finished turning the bridge into a shelter and they clambered under, rubbing their hands together.

  ‘Here,’ Kerry said.

  She handed James two small boxes. It was too dark to see what they were. James felt the familiar shape of a straw on the side of a carton.

  ‘Breakfast,’ James said. ‘This was in the rubbish?’

  ‘God must be on our side,’ Kerry said. ‘Six cartons of orange juice, six mini packets of cereal, all unopened. Large must have thrown them out this morning when he didn’t give us breakfast.’

  James punched the straw into the orange juice carton and sucked the contents in two long gulps. Then he ripped open the cereal and scoffed dry flakes.

  ‘We’ve got clothes, food and shelter,’ James said. ‘We should last until morning.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Kerry said. ‘I’d be happier if I could get the fire going.’

  ‘There’s tons of stuff there that will burn,’ James said.

  ‘But the only way I know to start a fire is with two dry pieces of timber. We’ve got zero.’

  They sat there for a few minutes, huddled close, jiggling arms and legs to keep warm.

  ‘I think I know a way to start a fire,’ James said. ‘You know the security cameras all over the assault course?’

  ‘What about them?’ Kerry asked.

  ‘They must be powered by electricity.’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘So if we find one and pull the power cord out the back then we can use it to make a spark.’

  ‘It’s pitch dark,’ Kerry said.

  ‘I know roughly where a few of the cameras are.’

  ‘James, you’re talking about messing with electricity. You could end up getting killed.’

  James stood up.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Have faith, Kerry. I’m going to start a fire.’

  ‘You’re a total idiot, James. You’ll get zapped.’

  James clambered out of the shelter. The foot coverings Kerry made kept his feet warm but slid everywhere. He found the bin Kerry had filled with flammable stuff. He tucked bits of tissue and cardboard inside his plastic suit, then grabbed a dustbin lid and started his search. James found a camera only a few metres from the shelter. The tiny red lamp below the lens made it easier to spot the cameras in the dark than in daylight.

  James felt behind the camera and tugged the wires out of the back. One looked like the picture output, so he threw it away. The other wire had a two-pronged rubber plug on the end. James figured this was the power supply. He twisted the plug until it snapped off, leaving two bare wires at the end of the lead.

  It had seemed a good idea in theory. But now he was on the spot, with his little store of fuel standing on the dustbin lid, water all around and a live electric cable in his hand, James’ confidence plummeted.

  He crouched over the bin lid. He split the cable, pulling the two bare ends of wire further apart, then lined them up over a piece of tissue. He slowly moved the two ends closer together. A blue spark lit up James’ face. The corner of the tissue ignited. A couple of embers flew off and the fire snuffed out. James’ heart stopped. He doubted he’d get another chance because the spark had probably fused the circuit. Then a second burst of flame rose from the centre of the tissue. James dipped a scrap of cardboard in the flame. The fire caught hold.

  He had to move back to the bridge before the fuel burned out. His feet slid everywhere and the wind was doing its best to kill the flames.

  ‘Kerry,’ James shouted. ‘Get some of the fuel.’

  Kerry dashed out and put more bits of card on the fire. The metal lid was getting hot in James’ hands and the last part of the journey was trickiest, down the muddy river bank and into the shelter. Kerry helped keep the lid steady. James pushed the lid into the shelter, careful not to set light to the branches lining the sides. Kerry got the rest of the fuel and they cuddled up to each other as the shelter filled with flickering orange light. The smoke made their eyes sting, but all they cared about was being warm. Kerry rested her head on James’ arm.

  ‘I still can’t believe you stomped my hand,’ Kerry said, looking at her bandage. ‘I thought we were a good team.’

  ‘I know sorry doesn’t make it all better, but I really am. If there’s anything I can do to make it up, I will. Just name it.’

  ‘You know what,’ Kerry said. ‘I’ll forgive you now. But after training finishes I’ll fight you in the dojo. I’ll beat you until you scream for mercy. Then I’ll beat you some more.’

  ‘Deal,’ James said, hoping she was joking. ‘It’s what I deserve for getting us into this mess.’

  *

  Mr Speaks stuck his head inside the shelter. It was starting to get light. The fire was burned out. James and Kerry were asleep with their arms around each other.

  ‘Wake up,’ Speaks said.

  James and Kerry rustled to life in their plastic suits. Kerry had said it was best not to go to sleep; better to stay alert and not get frostbite. But the shelter was warm and they’d both drifted off.

  ‘I love you two with all my heart,’ Speaks said.

  Speaks reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a couple of bars of Fruit and Nut. James couldn’t understand why Speaks was being nice to them.

  ‘I am so impressed with the way you two got through this. Mr Large was convinced you would quit. He couldn’t find you. All the video cameras have stopped working for some reason.’

  ‘What time is it?’ Kerry asked, cheeks stuffed with chocolate.

  ‘Six-thirty. You two better run back to the main building and get dressed. Mr Large is going to be furious when he sees you.’

  ‘Doesn’t he like us?’ James asked. ‘I mean, I know he hates everyone, but why is he so keen to get rid of us?’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ Speaks said. ‘We had a bet. Fifty pounds that Mr Large could make a trainee quit on Christmas Day. He thought making Connor watch his brother eat Christmas dinner would work, but Callum told him to stick it out. Then you two started fighting, which gave him the excuse to punish you. He was sure he’d broken you. I can’t wait to see the look on his face.’

  ‘After this he’s gonna make our lives even more miserable,’ Kerry sighed.

  21. AIR

  The six trainees and three instructors were heading to Malaysia for the final days of basic training. James’ only previous flight was an eight-hour holiday trip to Orlando, crammed with hundreds of wriggling kids and bawling parents. This time it was business class.

  James’ toes couldn’t reach the seat in front. The puffy leather chairs had pull-up screens for Nintendo and movies and a button that tipped the seat back so it was like a bed. Before take-off the stewardess came round serving sandwiches and fruit juice. It would have been good any time. After thirteen hard weeks, he was in heaven.

  The jumbo finished its climb out of Heathrow and the seatbelt sign beeped out. James slouched with his headphones on, flipping through the different music channels until he came across Elton John’s song ‘Rocket Man’. His mum had loved Elton. James felt guilty that he’d hardly thought about her since he got to CHERUB.

  Kerry’s sock flew over the screen between the seats and landed in James’ lap. He sat up as Kerry lowered the screen and yanked off his headphones.

  ‘What was that for?’ James asked.

  ‘You wanted to know how long the flight was. Turn your TV to channel fifty.’

  James flicked his remote. The screen changed to a blue map with London on the left and Kuala Lumpur on the right. Every few seconds the screen switched to a bank of figures, which included distance travelled, air speed, external temperature and time to destination.

  ‘Thirteen hours eight minutes,’ James sai
d. ‘Cool. I think I could sleep about that long.’

  Kerry looked disappointed.

  ‘Don’t you want to play Mario Kart?’ she asked.

  ‘A couple of games, I guess. I’ll sleep after they serve dinner.’

  *

  The sign over the automatic door of the airport terminal said, Enjoy Your Stay In Malaysia. The doors split apart. James slung his backpack over his shoulder and took his first outdoor breath. The screen on the plane said it was 40°C when they landed. James knew that was hot, but the baking air was beyond anything he’d imagined.

  ‘Imagine running in this heat,’ Kerry said.

  Connor and Gabrielle walked behind.

  ‘I bet we won’t need to imagine for long,’ Gabrielle said.

  Large, wearing shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, wound the group through lanes of jammed traffic to a shuttle van. Speaks peeled notes out of a bundle of currency and handed them to the driver while everyone else climbed in with their luggage.

  They pulled into the flow and drove for half an hour along wide empty roads, heading against the evening rush hour. The trainees watched out of the windows. It could have been a modern city anywhere. Only the wide storm drains and the odd palm tree amongst the concrete told them they were in the tropics.

  *

  The other trainees had been James’ only human contact for three months. They hadn’t spoken much. If you got a spare half hour you didn’t waste it talking, you used it to sleep. The few conversations they’d had were mostly bitching about training over the dinner table.

  The instructors punished everyone for an individual mistake, so the trainees developed a sixth sense for covering each other’s weaknesses. James knew before a long swim that Kerry and Shakeel would stick close and grab him if he lost his nerve. Everyone took Kerry’s stuff when her knee was painful. Mo was weedy and needed help climbing and lifting. They all needed each other for something.

  James wasn’t worried about the four-day tropical survival course. He knew it would be tough, but everything had been tough since day one. Training had succeeded: exhaustion and danger didn’t scare James any more. He’d been pushed to the limit so often it felt routine. It was something you didn’t enjoy but always got through, like a trip to the dentist or a science lesson.

  *

  The hotel was plush. James and Kerry shared a room with two queen beds and a balcony that overlooked the pool. It was nine at night, but they’d all slept on the plane and felt lively. The instructors were going to the hotel bar and didn’t want to be bothered. The trainees were given the run of the hotel and told to order whatever they wanted from room service, but not to stay up late because there was an early start in the morning.

  The six kids met by the outdoor pool, the first chance they’d had to relax as a group. It was dark now. There was a breeze but the temperature was still in the thirties. Millions of insects chirped and smacked into the mosquito nets that wrapped the pool area. An attendant in a bow tie handed out robes and cotton slippers.

  It was the first time in weeks that James had felt well-fed and relaxed. He also felt awkward. All the others were dive-bombing the pool and swimming confidently. James was ashamed that all he could manage was a clumsy front crawl and sat with his ankles in the water sucking Coke through a straw.

  ‘Come on, James,’ Kerry shouted. ‘Chill out.’

  ‘I think I’ll go back to the room,’ James said.

  ‘Misery,’ Kerry said.

  James walked up to his room. He took a leak, then caught himself in a mirror for the first time since training started. It was weird seeing his own body but not quite recognising it. The belly that rolled over the elastic of his shorts was gone. His chest muscles and biceps were bigger and he thought the razor cut hair and all the scabs and bruises made him look hard. James couldn’t help smiling. He was totally in love with himself.

  He lay on his bed and watched TV. Only a few channels were in English. He found BBC World and realised half the planet could have been rubbed out in a war for all he knew. He hadn’t seen a newspaper or TV for the three months he’d been isolated in the training compound. It didn’t look like much had changed. People still killed each other for no good reason, politicians wore dull suits and gave five-minute answers that had nothing to do with the question. At least they showed Arsenal winning in the sports round-up. After the sports, James flipped through channels and wished he’d stayed downstairs with the others.

  Suddenly, the door of the hotel room opened and the light went out.

  ‘Shut your eyes,’ Kerry shouted.

  ‘Why?’ James asked.

  ‘We’ve got a surprise.’

  James could hear the other trainees outside in the corridor.

  ‘No way, what are you gonna do?’

  ‘If you don’t shut your eyes you’ll never know.’

  It was unlikely to be anything good if they were asking him to shut his eyes, but James didn’t want to seem boring.

  ‘OK, they’re shut.’

  James heard them all file in. Kerry emptied an ice bucket over his chest. The cubes slid inside his robe and down his back. Connor, Mo, Gabrielle and Shakeel followed with more ice buckets. James jumped off his bed and trod on an ice cube.

  ‘Scumbags,’ James yelped, shaking the cubes out of his robe and laughing.

  The others were cracking up. Kerry put the light back on.

  ‘Thought we’d all order room service in here,’ Kerry said. ‘If you’re not still sulking.’

  ‘Whatever, cool,’ James said.

  They sat on the balcony talking about training and picking bits of each other’s food. Afterwards the four boys decided to impress the girls by standing in line and pissing on to the plants two floors down. Kerry and Gabrielle slipped inside and locked the French windows.

  ‘Let us in,’ Connor shouted.

  ‘Tell us how beautiful we are,’ Kerry said.

  ‘Ugly pigs,’ Shakeel shouted. ‘Let us in.’

  ‘Sounds like you’re staying out there for a long time,’ Kerry said.

  James looked down. They were too high to jump. He walked to the glass and spoke.

  ‘I think you’re both beautiful.’

  ‘Arse kisser,’ Connor said.

  James looked at Connor. ‘You want to stay out here all night?’

  ‘Very beautiful,’ Connor agreed.

  ‘Supermodels,’ Mo added.

  The girls looked at Shakeel.

  ‘Well?’

  Shakeel shrugged, ‘You’re two radiant beams of golden sunshine. Come on, let us in.’

  ‘Shall we?’ Kerry asked Gabrielle, enjoying her sense of power.

  Gabrielle put a finger on her mouth and acted puzzled.

  ‘If they kiss the glass to show how much they love us,’ she decided.

  Kerry laughed. ‘You heard her, boys. Nice big smooch on the glass.’

  The four boys looked at each other.

  ‘Oh, for god’s sake,’ Connor muttered.

  Connor kissed the glass first. The other three did the same.

  Someone knocked at the door. Kerry answered. It was Large and Smoke. Gabrielle unlocked the French doors. The boys rushed inside, hoping they hadn’t been spotted peeing on the plants.

  Large sounded drunk. ‘It’s gone eleven. I want you all in bed in five minutes.’

  The others filed out. James and Kerry got into bed.

  22. BEACH

  A military helicopter picked them up from the hotel roof before dawn. The trainees sat on their packs in the dusty cargo area behind the pilots. Their tropical uniform had lightweight trousers, long-sleeved blue tops without numbers or CHERUB logos, and hats with pull-down flaps to protect their necks and ears from the sun.

  Large crawled around fitting each trainee with an electronic wristband. The plastic strap locked on so it could only be cut off with a knife.

  ‘Don’t remove the bracelet under any circumstances,’ Large shouted over the noise of the rotor. ‘In an emergency,
unscrew the button on the side and press it down firmly. The helicopter is on standby and will reach you within fifteen minutes. If you get bitten by a snake press it right away.

  ‘We’ll be at the first drop point soon. Everything you could possibly need is in the backpacks. It’s now 1000 hours. Each team has four checkpoints to reach within the next seventy-two hours. If you don’t reach all the checkpoints before the target time, you have failed training and you’ll have to start again at day one. Remember, this is not a training area. Mistakes down there will not get you punished, but they might get you killed. There are about a thousand things in the jungle that will kill you or make you so sick you’ll wish you were dead.’

  The helicopter stopped moving about ten metres off the ground. The side door slid open, filling the cargo area with sunlight.

  ‘One and two, get out there,’ Large shouted.

  Mo and Shakeel dangled their feet over the side of the helicopter. Large threw out their backpacks. James saw the boys disappear, but couldn’t see if they’d landed OK because of the dust blown up by the rotor. Large gave the pilot a thumbs-up and the helicopter moved on to the next drop. Kerry looked unhappy. Jumps put a strain on her weak knee. Gabrielle and Connor dropped, then they moved to the final position.

  James looked down. There was wet sand covered with a few centimetres of seawater beneath him. He watched his pack splash down, summoned his courage and slid off the platform. They’d been trained how to jump safely. The trick was to collapse on to your side so the impact was absorbed by the whole body. If you landed too straight you risked smashing your hips or ankles. Too flat and your whole body smacked down hard, often breaking an arm or shoulder. James got the landing spot on. He scrambled up, splattered in wet sand but unhurt.

  Kerry screamed as she hit the ground. James rushed over.