The Dead (22 page)

Inside he crossed a small entrance area, up some more steps and came out into the main atrium. There were planes dangling from the ceiling. Jack recognized a Spitfire among them. The white-tiled floor was littered with tanks, vehicles and artillery pieces of all shapes and sizes.

The rest of the kids from the coach were gazing around in open-mouthed awe. A small group of boys were staring sullenly at them from one side. Like the two boys who had let them in, they were dressed in military uniforms that they’d obviously ‘borrowed’ from an exhibit, and they were heavily armed.

‘Who is it?’ came a voice from behind one of the tanks.

‘Dunno, some kids,’ said one of the boys in uniform.

Brooke walked round the tank, followed by the rest of the coach party.

Three boys of about thirteen were sitting cross-legged on the floor, wrapped in blankets and duvets. They looked like village elders around a campfire. All three of them were equipped with rulers, dice and notebooks, and spread out around them on the gleaming tiles were hundreds of miniature metal soldiers and an odd assortment of bits and pieces that were being used to represent landscape – trees and buildings and roads. They were evidently in the middle of an elaborate war game.

One was a chubby kid wearing a First World War German helmet, with a spike in the top. Next to him sat a black kid wearing plastic-framed glasses held together at the nose with Elastoplast. He stared, unblinking, at the intruders. The glasses made his eyes look massive, as if they could look right through you. He had a serious expression, verging on blank, and there was a stillness about him. The third boy couldn’t have been more different. He was pale, wiry, fidgety, animated, like a pot on the boil. He scratched his armpit, picked his nose and grinned like a monkey at the new arrivals.

‘Fresh meat,’ he said. ‘Yum yum! Groovalicious.’

‘Ha, ha,’ said Brooke with all her usual sarcasm. ‘Very funny.’

‘I like to think so,’ said the skinny boy. ‘I like to think I ain’t lost it.’

‘I doubt you ever had it,’ said Brooke.

The skinny boy jumped up and offered his palm to Brooke. She refused to slap it.

‘I’m DogNut,’ he said. ‘But you can call me “babe”.’

Brooke shook her head and moved away from him.

‘Watch where you’re walking,’ said the black kid in the glasses.

‘Ooh, we don’t want to mess up your toys, do we?’ said Brooke.

‘No,’ said the boy matter-of-factly, but combined with his cold hard stare it came across as strangely menacing. Brooke faltered, unsure whether to push it any further. There was something about the boy that told her to be careful, an air of authority and quiet power.

‘Listen to what the bad man says,’ said DogNut. ‘Believe me, you don’t never want to get on the bad side of Jordan Hordern.’

‘That your name?’ said Brooke. ‘Jordan Hordern.’

‘Yes,’ said the black kid. ‘What of it?’

‘Nothing. Is a good name. Rhymes.’

‘Yes,’ said Jordan Hordern. ‘I know.’

‘Will you be staying for tea?’ asked DogNut in a mock posh voice.

‘They’re not staying,’ said Jordan Hordern, turning away from them and concentrating on his game.

‘Who says?’ Brooke asked.

‘If the man says you ain’t staying,’ said DogNut, ‘you ain’t staying. Like, soz and all, but no one argues with Jordan Hordern, get me?’

‘Hang on a minute,’ said Jack, pushing past Ed. ‘You don’t own this place. You can’t just kick us out.’

‘Can’t I?’

‘No way,’ said Brooke. ‘We just excaped from bare sickos out there, man. First we was trapped on a bus with a father who went psycho on us and tried to batter us all, and then there was these, like, freaks in the street and –’

‘What were you doing with a father on a bus?’ Jordan Hordern interrupted.

‘Well, durr, he was, like,
driving
, wasn’t he?’

‘Don’t you know they’re all mental?’

‘We know that now, but he looked OK, he saved me and my girlfriends and he swore down he wasn’t gonna go sick on us.’

‘And you trusted him? You’re more stupid than you look.’

‘Yeah? And you’re a prick,’ said Brooke.

Jordan Hordern looked at her curiously and then shrugged. ‘You still ain’t staying.’

‘Why’d you let us in in the first place, then?’ Ed asked.

‘Good question.’ Jordan Hordern turned his gaze on to the two guards who had opened the doors. ‘Why
did
you let them in?’ he asked. ‘You know the rules.’

The boys looked at their feet, not sure what to say.

‘They let us in because they wanted to help us!’ said Jack angrily. ‘Because we’re kids like you. Human beings. Assuming you
are
human and not some kind of macho robot arsehole.’

Jordan Hordern’s expression didn’t change.

‘Come on,’ said Brooke. ‘You can’t kick us out. We wouldn’t last five minutes out there. We’ll be merked.’

‘Not our problem.’

‘Well, what
is
your problem?’ said Jack.

‘It’s very simple. And it’s nothing personal,’ said Jordan Hordern. ‘We got enough food and water here for ten people to live an OK life. We got security and heat, and we’re well defended. Any more than ten of us, though, becomes a problem. That clear enough for you?’

‘And how long is your food gonna last?’ Jack asked.

‘It’ll get us through the winter if we’re careful. With any luck, when it warms up, all the adults will have died off and we can go out and get more.’

‘We only being reasonable,’ said DogNut. ‘We looking after number one. That’s how it works now, blood.’

‘Have you turned other people away?’ Bam asked. He was bruised from his fight on the bus, and had a gash in one cheek, as well as a nasty wound in his left hand where Greg had bitten him.

‘A few,’ said Jordan Hordern.

‘Well, you’re not throwing us out.’ Bam sat down in the middle of their game, crushing a battalion of German soldiers.

‘Oh, don’t do that,’ DogNut moaned. ‘I was winning for once.’

‘We’re not leaving,’ said Bam. ‘You can try and make us, but we’re staying put.’

Jordan Hordern stared dispassionately at Bam for a few seconds then clapped his hands together. Five more of his boys came over. They were carrying swords and truncheons.

‘Come off it,’ Jack scoffed. ‘It’s one thing hiding in here and not opening the doors to a few stray kids, it’s another thing to actually kill them. Is that what you think you’re gonna do? Kill all twenty-five of us? Or maybe you were thinking you might just beat us up and throw our bleeding, semi-conscious bodies out of a window.’

‘Wait up,’ Brooke interrupted, jutting her jaw out at Jordan Hordern. ‘You said there’s ten of you, yeah?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you all boys, then?’

‘What of it?’

Brooke laughed. ‘Then we got something you need,’ she said, eyeing Jordan defiantly.

‘What?’

Brooke made a display of herself, arms out to her sides, and said, ‘Ta-daa!’

‘Broo-ooke!’ Aleisha rolled her eyes, scandalized.

‘I don’t mean like that,’ said Brooke. ‘You got a dirty mind, Aleisha. I just mean we got skills that might come in useful.’

‘Yeah, I can think of a few,’ DogNut sniggered.

‘In your dreams,’ Brooke sneered.

‘You already are,’ said DogNut.

‘We don’t need girls,’ said Jordan Hordern.

‘Whoa-whoa-whoa, wait a minute,’ said DogNut, dancing on the spot and dropping his blanket. Underneath it he was wearing a brown leather American flying jacket, a screaming eagle painted on its back. ‘Let’s not be too hasty here. She does have a point, Jordan.’

‘No, she doesn’t. We’re not taking in any more. Now get them out of here so we can finish our game.’

Jack exploded with rage. He barged his way over to Jordan and leant over him, jabbing a finger in his face.

‘You’re worse than the bloody grown-ups. You know that? At least they don’t know what they’re doing. You’re just cold. We’ve got little kids with us – eight, nine years old – you gonna smash their brains out, are you? You gonna cut us all up? Well, you can bloody try. We’ve climbed a mountain of crap in the last two days and we’re not gonna go down without a fight. We’re not asking to come and live with you forever in your precious bloody museum. We just need shelter until we can get ourselves sorted.’

‘Don’t point at me,’ said Jordan. ‘I don’t like people pointing at me.’

‘Oh, don’t you? So why don’t you get one of your little soldier boys to hack my finger off? Cos I don’t think you’ve got the balls to do it yourself, have you?’

At that, Jordan threw off his blankets and stood up. He was wearing a smart black officer’s uniform, complete with gold braid and medals. He was taller than Jack and moved like an athlete. Before Jack could react Jordan had grabbed his wrist and was twisting it to the side.

Jack winced, evidently in a lot of pain. Jordan kept on turning his wrist, forcing Jack to the ground. Jack tried to pull away but Jordan held him with an iron grip. Once Jack was on his knees Jordan spoke, his voice low and quiet.

‘I don’t care what you say to me, I don’t care what you think about me, but don’t ever point at me again. All right?’

‘All right, all right, you can stop now. I’ve got the general idea.’

Jordan squeezed harder. Jack yelped.

Now Ed spoke out. ‘I think this has got a bit out of hand,’ he said. ‘We should all calm down and talk about it.’

Jordan looked round at Ed without letting go of Jack.

Ed went on. ‘Jack’s right. All we need is somewhere to stay until we’ve worked out what we’re going to do. Maybe only for one night. Maybe not even that. OK? You don’t need to give us any food if you don’t want. We’re not trying to take over or anything. We all just ran in here after a fight to get away. There’s still sickos out there.’

Jack gasped. He was kneeling on the tiles, his lips pulled back in a grimace of pain.

‘Can we at least just talk about this sensibly?’ Ed pleaded.

Jordan let go of Jack, who rolled away and sat down against a tank, rubbing his arm.

‘I’ll think about it,’ said Jordan. ‘We’ll finish our game, then we’ll talk. You can have some water, but no food. Sort yourselves out and I’ll listen to what you’ve got to say. I’m only going to talk to one of you, though. Who’s in charge?’

‘Nobody,’ said Ed.

‘Then I’m appointing you.’ Jordan turned back to his game and started straightening the troops that had got knocked over.

‘Let’s get this out in the open.’ Ed banged his hands on a tabletop. ‘And then I don’t want to hear any more about it. Not from you, Bam, not from Jack, not from anyone.’ Ed looked around, daring the other kids to catch his eye.

They were all in the museum café, off to the side of the atrium, spread out among the tables. The place had been ransacked and no one at the museum had bothered to tidy up; there was litter everywhere.

The Brains Trust was sitting shivering at one table – Justin the nerd, Jibber-jabber, Wiki, Zohra and Froggie. Mad Matt was with Archie Bishop and the other kids from the chapel. There was an ugly black and red scab across Matt’s forehead where Greg’s ring had raked his skin. Brooke, Courtney and Aleisha sat in one corner, in a cloud of perfume and attitude. Chris Marker was by himself. He had inevitably gone back to reading his book, but the others viewed him differently after what he’d done to Greg on the bus. He wasn’t totally useless. Jack, Ed and Frédérique were at another table with Bam. Bam was the only one of the rugby players still alive, and he’d obviously been hit hard by Piers’ death. This was the first time anyone had seen him down and lacking his cheery optimism. Kwanele sat by himself, straight-backed and defiant.

While they’d been waiting in here Bam had been on at Ed and Kwanele non-stop about leaving Piers behind, and Ed had had enough.

‘Have any of you ever tried to carry someone who was unconscious?’ he asked. ‘People are heavy. Piers was heavy. Greg came after us and Piers’ body got caught on something. If I’d stayed any longer, Greg would have got me, and then the other sickos outside would have made it on to the bus and that would have been that. And why? Because you lot had all scarpered and left me to it. Thanks.’

Kwanele obviously thought Ed was referring to him.

‘Piers was badly wounded,’ he protested. ‘He probably would not have lived anyway, not without proper medicine, and doctors and things like that.’

‘So that’s it, is it?’ said Bam. ‘Like DogNut or whatever his name is out there said, look out for number one. If you’re hurt, forget it.’

‘It wasn’t just Kwanele,’ Ed shouted. ‘You all left me behind.’

‘We were fighting off sickos,’ said Bam. ‘I was trying to get everyone to safety.’

‘Exactly,’ said Ed. ‘We’ve all got excuses.’

There was a long silence before Bam spoke.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘Maybe we were all to blame. It happened too fast.’

‘It’s basic survival now,’ said Ed. ‘Getting from one day to another. This place is well defended, standing alone, with open ground all around, and it’s stuffed full of weapons. It would be a perfect place to set up camp. But someone else got here first and we can’t expect them to look after us.’