The Hunted (20 page)

‘Don’t put that in there, Macca, you moron. Stick it on the roof. It won’t fit inside.’

Ed was in a foul mood. He was getting ready to set off in search of Ella and he still didn’t know who was coming with him from the museum. If anyone. He had his mates from the Tower, Kyle and Macca and Will. They’d come this far together and weren’t going to split up now. So it wasn’t going to be some mad solo expedition. And they weren’t going to be on foot this time.

They had a car. A people carrier. A lovely big fat blue Chrysler Voyager, large enough to seat seven comfortably, eight or nine if they were willing to squash up.

Getting a car had been the idea of one of the museum kids. Boy named Boggle. Apparently nobody could pronounce his name or spell it properly and they reckoned it looked like a jumbled-up bunch of random letters, like in the word game Boggle.

Ed used to play it with his family. A long time ago. But Boggle himself had never seen it, let alone played it. Ed had asked Boggle if it bothered him, but Boggle told him he’d been called a lot worse.

He also told Ed that Ella and her friends had left in a car.
Which was news to Ed. Boggle had made him swear not to tell anyone else.

‘We found it months ago,’ Boggle explained. ‘Me and my best mate, Robbie. A big Range Rover. We’d been looking after it. He named it Raymonda. No one else knew about it, you see. Still don’t. Robbie was worried that Justin would take it for himself if he found out.’

At first Ed had been deflated. That meant Robbie and Maeve and Ella and Monkey-Boy could be miles away by now. They could be halfway to Wales. But then Boggle explained that there hadn’t been that much petrol in it. Only enough to get out of town, about twenty-five miles. Their plan had been to take the car as far as it would go, straight west on the motorway, and then look for some other kids.

‘So if you get yourself a car,’ said Boggle, ‘with enough petrol, you can go twenty miles, maybe thirty. You can look on the dial to see how far that is, or, you know, like, get a map and draw a circle or whatever, and search around there.’

Of course Boggle didn’t have another car himself. That would have been too easy.

‘So where do I get myself another set of wheels?’ Ed asked.

‘Ryan’s hunters. They find things. They’ll maybe barter with you. If you got something to barter with.’

It all came back to Ed, getting rescued by Ryan Aherne and his gang near the Houses of Parliament the other day. Ed remembered thinking that he was glad that Ryan’s hunters were on his side. They were an ugly bunch, street-hard, heavily armed and with a pack of mean fighting dogs. Some of them wore masks – ski masks, leather gimp
masks – and Ryan wore one made from a human face he’d carved off a dead sicko.

The hunters worked the local streets and traded between the various camps. Ed had to wait a couple of days for them to come past and Ryan seemed pleased to see him again.

‘Thought you was gonna die in the badlands, dude.’

Ed explained what he needed – a reliable car with at least twenty miles of gas in the tank, preferably twice that, so he could get there and back.

‘If I
could
get you a motor,’ said Ryan, ‘what can you offer me for it?’

‘
Can
you get me one?’

‘I can get anything,’ said Ryan. ‘But there’s a price, soldier. I mean, what you got? Apart from that face that got stomped on?’

One step forward. Two steps back. Ed knew he couldn’t rely on Justin to give him anything. And then he had an idea.

‘How about alcohol?’ he said. ‘What if I got you as much booze as you can carry?’

‘Then, my friend, we have a deal.’

And so it was that this morning Ryan had arrived with the Chrysler. The weather was fine and the hunters were still there, lounging around on the steps that led up to the front of the museum, sampling some of the drink that Ed had got for them. They were all dressed in leathers and furs and looked like a heavy metal band posing for their latest album cover.

Ed was loading supplies into the boot when Ryan came over.

‘You heading out already?’ he said, raising a can of beer in a salute.

Ed was glad that Ryan had taken his mask off – it gave him the creeps – although Ryan’s real face wasn’t exactly a pretty sight. It was covered in acne and battered from a thousand fights.

‘I have to find someone,’ Ed explained.

‘No rest, eh, dude?’ said Ryan with a lopsided grin. ‘Not for us soldiers.
No Sleep ’til Hammersmith
.’

‘Hammersmith?’

‘Is an album. Motörhead. No, brother, you and me, we don’t get to sit down and sip cups of tea, do our knitting. We’re workers. We’re soldiers. We’re hunters. No rest for the wicked, yeah? We never sleep. Not till we’re in our graves.’

‘You die if you want, Ryan.’ Ed smiled at him, knowing his own face would be pulled into a Halloween mask. ‘I intend to live till I’m a hundred.’

‘Good luck with that, my man. You want a drink?’

‘Nope.’

‘Is good stuff. So tell me, where’d you get it all? Who’s your supply?’

‘That’s confidential.’

‘Thought it might be.’

‘Where you want these, boss?’ Kyle had come over, carrying a box of fifty crossbow bolts.

‘Sling them on the roof.’ The bolts were part of the deal. Ryan had got them for Ed and Ed was going to use them to pay for the drink. That’s how the world worked now. Barter.

The drink had come from a boy called Dylan, although no one but Ed knew his real name – to everyone else he was Shadowman. Ed had saved Shadowman at Piccadilly Circus a few nights ago, and Shadowman owed him. He
had a hideout in an abandoned drinking club not far away. And there was more alcohol stashed away in its cellars than he could ever drink.

So they’d done a deal. Ed had taken a load of beer and vodka and cider and promised to come back with crossbow bolts. They’d have to drop them off for Shadowman on the way.

It had only taken Ryan a few days to find a car. Ed had got more and more frustrated waiting around for him, but knew that when it did arrive the car would save them a lot of time and hassle. Now that it was here he just wanted to be off and get this whole thing over and done with. Everyone was telling him it was crazy, stupid, pointless, dangerous …

Everyone except Sam.

Ryan had parked the car outside the museum gates and Ed, Kyle, Macca and Will had spent the last hour or so getting it ready. Packing supplies into the back and strapping their weapons and any larger items to the roof rack. They’d put in as much food as Justin would allow them, plus spare clothes, water, sleeping bags and a decent first-aid kit. They were just about ready to leave now. Ed was delaying setting off, though. Hoping against hope that someone else would volunteer to come with them.

He looked up towards the main doors of the museum. A small crowd of curious museum kids had gathered there to watch. Ed couldn’t really blame them for not helping. This wasn’t anything to do with them, and anyway he’d heard that Justin had told them all not to go. He needed his fighters here.

But the Holloway kids: Ella was
one of them.
Sam
was one of them. Hell, none of Ed’s crew even knew what Ella looked like.

He was just about to turn away when he saw movement. A small delegation was coming down to speak to him.

Was it going to be good news or bad news?

A step forward or a step back?

Ed recognized the red-haired boy, Ollie, but the other three he hadn’t got to know yet. There was a round-faced black kid; a dozy-looking guy with an Afro, who was wearing what looked like bits of samurai armour and carrying a katana; and a younger, pale-faced girl, who had a haunted look about her. When they arrived, she stared at Ed with scared, black-rimmed eyes, her lips pressed tight together. He noticed she was carrying a big leather-bound book under her arm and was keeping close to Ollie, who put a protective arm across her shoulders.

‘What’s up?’ Ed asked, trying not to sound aggressive. ‘You come to wave me off or join up?’

‘I would come with you,’ said Ollie. ‘But I’ve promised to look after Lettis.’

He gave the pale-faced girl a squeeze. Ed realized who she was now. He’d heard about how she’d been left abandoned in a church and all her friends had been killed. Ollie had saved her and now it looked like she wouldn’t leave his side.

‘No way she’s ever going back out there,’ said Ollie. ‘Not after what she’s been through. But Ebenezer here, he’s good. He wants to come.’

‘I don’t like it here,’ said Ebenezer, the round-faced kid.
He had a strong African accent. ‘Too many dead things in glass boxes. And those Twisted Kids. I don’t like them being here. They are not right. They are not in God’s image. They are not right.’

Ed had to admit that the kids Blue had brought back with him from the last expedition out of London made him a little uncomfortable as well.

‘The disease did something to them in the womb,’ said Ollie. ‘It’s not their fault.’

‘They are mutations,’ said Ebenezer.

‘They’re kids,’ said Ollie.

‘You were on Blue’s expedition, Ebenezer?’ Ed wanted to change the subject.

‘Yes. I will go again. It does not scare me. I have seen what is on the road.’

‘Ebenezer’s good with a javelin,’ said Ollie. ‘And he knows Ella well from Holloway days.’

Ed looked to the last member of the group, who seemed to be half asleep.

‘What about you?’ he asked and the boy lazily opened his eyes just enough to give Ed a once-over.

‘Lewis,’ he said and scratched his bushy Afro. ‘I’m in, dude. I got to know that little girl on the way over here. She’s brave as they come. I liked her. I’ll do it for her and the boy. Small Sam. He done well an’ all. Staying alive. Is all cool. I’ll come.’

Ed smiled and they bumped fists. Lewis might be dozy-looking, but several people had told Ed what a good fighter he was.

‘So that’s six of us then.’ Ed counted on his fingers. ‘Including my lot. Not exactly an army, but the car only seats seven anyway. You ready to leave now?’

Ebenezer nodded and Lewis shrugged.

‘I’d really hoped we could persuade Achilleus. He seems like a pain in the arse, but he’d be really useful from all I hear.’

‘Akkie definitely won’t go with you,’ said Ollie.

‘You know that?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I thought nothing fazed him.’

‘Nothing does,’ said Ollie and he took Ed to one side.

‘Akkie, he’s like me and Lettis,’ he said when they were out of earshot of the others.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’ Ollie nodded. ‘You see that little Irish kid he always has with him?’

‘Yeah. Bit of hero worship there.’

‘Kid’s called Paddy. We picked him up on the road. He’d been living with some nutters in a crappy camp in Green Park. A right wild bunch. Paddy jumped ship and came with us. He’s a tough little bastard, but, like a lot of kids, he’s not as tough as he’d like everyone to think.’

‘What do you mean?’ Ed asked.

‘I think he was having a hard time of it before. Not coping well. He ran away, basically, from the kids he was living with. Achilleus is like a dad to him now. Looks after him. They went out and got caught up in the madness down Heathrow and since they got back Paddy’s been having real bad nightmares. No one says anything, but we’ve all seen it. All heard it. Paddy wakes up screaming and Akkie has to calm him down. Akkie tries to pretend he ain’t got no heart. But underneath … He’s just protecting Paddy. Making it look like it’s his decision not to go. He knows Paddy wouldn’t hold up out there, and he
wouldn’t leave him behind. Like me and Lettis here, and you and Sam, I guess.’

‘OK.’ Ed rubbed his scar. ‘Listen, Ollie,’ he said. ‘You seem switched on. Can you keep an eye on Sam while I’m gone? I don’t want him doing anything stupid. He ran off once before.’

‘No problem,’ said Ollie. ‘I’m on it. God knows how the little shrimp did it, though. Got across London like that.’

‘And the rest.’ Ed laughed. ‘That boy is something else, I tell you. You know, there’s even a group of kids living over in St Paul’s Cathedral who think he’s some kind of a god.’

Ollie laughed. ‘I wouldn’t go that far.’

‘I’ll tell you about it one day.’ Ed looked round as Kyle leant on the car horn and yelled out of the window.

‘Get a move on!’

As they walked down to the car, Lewis had a word with Ed.

‘He driving, is he?’

‘It’s between him and Macca. They both reckon they know how. Why? You drive?’

‘Some.’

Ed mentioned this to the others and the three of them, Lewis, Kyle and Macca, argued about who was going to be in the driver’s seat. In the end they all three had a go, driving up and down the stretch of the Cromwell Road that ran along the front of the museum. Kyle showed off, tried to go too fast and didn’t look like he was in control at all. Macca went the other way and looked too cautious, nervous even. Macca was quite small, with a screwed-up face and untidy hair. He was a great shot, and had perfect
eyesight, but he sometimes reckoned he knew more about the world than he actually did, and had a habit of biting off more than he could chew.

Driving was evidently not one of his skills.

Lewis was the best and Ed gave him the job. Kyle moaned until Ed told him to shut up and that was that. Lewis was the designated driver.

At last they were ready to go.