Read The Dead Online

Authors: Charlie Higson

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #General

The Dead (14 page)

Greg twisted round in his seat to study Jack and Ed.

‘You probably think that’s stupid, don’t you?’

‘No,’ said Jack. ‘Seems as good a reason as any to go to London.’

‘Yeah, well, I ain’t stupid, pal.’

‘Didn’t say you were.’

‘You gotta have something to believe in,’ Greg went on. ‘Keeps you going. Stops you from chewing on your own dark thoughts.’

‘Can I ask you something?’ Jack asked.

‘Fire away.’

‘You won’t get angry?’

‘Can’t guarantee it. It depends if it’s a stupid question.’

‘Why haven’t you got sick like everyone else?’

‘Don’t know, don’t care.’

‘But it’s important,’ said Jack. ‘We thought everyone older was –’

‘Listen,’ said Greg, interrupting Jack. ‘You must have seen it yourselves. Some of them, didn’t make no difference what age, what sex, what race, just so long as they was over fourteen, they’ve pretty much got ill straight away and within a few hours they’ve dropped down dead. Others took longer to die, a few days. Others didn’t die at all. They’re still wandering around out there dribbling and squeezing their spots. The disease takes everyone different. Me, I must have a special gene or some antibodies or whatever that’s protecting me. Yeah? Or maybe I’m just stronger. I can fight it off. I mean, let’s face it, nobody knows why you lot, you kids, ain’t got sick. Look at you, all bright eyes and rosy cheeks. It’s not bloody fair. Kids these days, spoilt, want everything on a plate. Well, now you got it, you’ve got the world to yourselves. How d’you like it, eh? Your dreams came true; you got your three wishes. No more pesky adults to mess up your spoilt little lives. Except for them out there. The nutters. The walking bags of pus. What was it the Scared Kid called them? The mothers and fathers. Ha ha! Welcome to paradise. Have a nice stay. Turn out the lights before you leave. Now, I’m starving. I can’t keep this up on an empty stomach. I gotta eat something.’

He slammed on the brakes and reared up at Jack and Ed, a leery smile exposing two rows of neat little teeth.

‘How’s about I start with you two, eh?’ he snarled, then burst out laughing as Jack and Ed shrank away from him.

‘Your faces!’ he said. ‘What a picture.’ He chuckled and looked to Liam, who was smiling sheepishly. ‘Did you see them soft sods, Liam? What a picture. What a bloody picture.’

He applied the handbrake and switched off the engine.

‘Don’t worry, lads,’ he said, standing up and stretching. ‘I never eat boys for lunch … I prefer a nice salad.’

20

They’d stopped on a long straight stretch of open road with good views in all directions. If anyone approached them, they would be clearly visible.

Greg rationed out food from the cardboard boxes stacked at the back of the bus, moaning all the while that with all the newcomers there was less to go round. Jack wondered why he’d picked them up in the first place if he didn’t want them on board, but he reckoned Greg just wanted to make sure everyone knew who was in charge.

It wasn’t as if their lunch was exactly five stars, either. It was bags of crisps and Cheestrings mostly, with some stale Nutri-Grain, although Jack noticed that Greg had his own separate food supply that he kept in a cool box stashed behind his seat. He and Liam sat up front eating alone.

Jack was sitting halfway back with Chris Marker, who was eating a bag of crisps while reading his book. Jack was happy with the arrangement. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to think either, so he was reading the information on the back of his own crisp packet. He was surprised by how much there was to read.

He was just working out the energy values when he became aware of someone standing next to him.

He heard a meow and looked up. Frédérique was holding her cat-carrying box at Jack’s eye level and he could see the tabby cowering suspiciously at the far end, its eyes wide and staring.

‘You all right?’

Frédérique nodded, the curtain of hair round her face opening for a moment. Jack got a glimpse of eyes as wide and frightened as the cat’s.

‘Have you got some food for her?’ he asked. ‘Him? Is it a male or a female?’

A voice came from behind the hair, so quietly that for a second or two Jack thought he’d imagined it.

‘Female.’

‘Have you got some food for her?’

Frédérique nodded again.

‘What’s her name?’

‘Dior.’ A whisper.

‘Like the perfume?’

Frédérique shrugged.

Jack knew she wanted something, but couldn’t work out what. At least she was speaking, though, coming out of her shell a little. It was a start. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. She’d tell him in her own time what it was she wanted.

At last she spoke again.

‘Dior must come out of her cage for a minute.’

‘Really?’

‘She needs to go to the bathroom.’

Jack’s smile grew wider before he could stop himself.

‘She needs a crap?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well. OK. Let’s go outside. But won’t she run off?’

‘I don’t think so. She is scared, though.’

Jack got up. We’re all scared, he thought, but said nothing. He led Frédérique up the aisle towards the front.

As he got nearer to Greg he saw that he and Liam had better food than the others. Proper cheese, crackers, a tin of cold beans, even some apples and slices of smoked meat. He watched as Greg offered some meat to Liam. Liam shook his head, concentrating on the handful of crackers he was munching his way through.

Jack paused and put a hand on Frédérique’s arm. He didn’t want to interrupt and wind Greg up any more. He waited for his moment, listening to their conversation.

‘You gotta get some protein inside you,’ Greg was complaining to Liam.

‘Cheese is protein.’

‘Meat is better.’

‘I’m all right. I don’t want it. I don’t like it.’

‘Go on – it’s good for you. Look at me. I eat well and I’m healthy. You want to be like me, don’tcha?’

‘I
am
healthy, Dad.’

‘You won’t stay healthy if you don’t eat proper balanced food.’

Greg noticed Jack and stopped talking. Jack stepped forward.

‘We want to get off the bus.’

Greg went back to his food.

‘You’re walking from here?’ he asked.

‘No. We just need to go outside for a minute.’

‘Way too risky, pal. Don’t even think about it.’

‘Oh, come on – we can see fine from here. If anyone comes, we’ll get straight back on.’

‘What d’you want to get off for anyway? Fresh air?’

‘The cat needs a dump.’

Greg laughed, like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

‘I’ll tell you what we can do with that cat,’ he said when he’d calmed down and taken control of himself. ‘We’ll skin him, gut him, butcher him and make him into some nice kebabs.’ He finally turned back round to look at the two of them. ‘How does that sound?’

Frédérique gasped and held the box more tightly to her chest. This made Greg laugh even harder.

‘Only joking, love. Did you see her face, Liam? What a picture. But, seriously, that moggy’s gonna be more trouble than it’s worth. You can’t get sentimental over pets, love, not since what’s happened.’

‘The cat’s all she’s got,’ said Jack. ‘Bit like you and Arsenal.’

Greg peered at Jack, trying to work out if he was making fun of him. In the end he gave him the benefit of the doubt.

‘Point taken,’ he said, and opened the door.

‘You want to go out there in the rain, that’s fine with me. But the first sign of any trouble I’m pulling up the drawbridge. The door closes and stays closed. Savvy?’

21

Jack and Frédérique stood by the coach in the drizzle. The rain had died down a little. There was just a general dampness in the air rather than actual drops falling. It had got colder and Jack shivered. He watched as Frédérique squatted down and put her cat box on the ground. She carefully opened the front then reached in to take hold of the cat. She eased her out and held her under her chin, stroking her and whispering soothing words into her twitching ear. Then she sneezed. Just her luck if she was allergic to cats.

Jack looked along the stretch of empty road ahead. They’d gone on a very roundabout route since leaving Rowhurst and he wasn’t sure whether they were any nearer to London than when they’d started.

Ed came down off the bus, zipping up his jacket.

‘What are you doing?’

Jack nodded towards Frédérique. ‘Cat needs a crap.’

Ed smiled. ‘Feels good to be out of there,’ he said, and glanced back to make sure Greg couldn’t hear them.

‘It’s a bit claustrophobic, if you know what I mean. Greg’s kind of … Well, he fills the space.’

‘I hate guys like that,’ said Jack. ‘Always trying to throw their weight around. He’s a bully.’

‘Yeah, but remember we’d all be dead without him. Those teenagers were –’

Jack shot Ed a look and nodded towards Frédérique, who was gently putting the cat down into the long grass by the side of the road. The girl was terrified; there was no point in making it worse by reminding her of how close she’d come to being killed.

Ed mouthed ‘sorry’ and Jack went over to Frédérique. The cat was looking around nervously, then she stretched her back and darted quickly under a bush where she sat looking back at Frédérique.

‘You’re sure she won’t run off?’

‘I have food. She will come back for food.’ Frédérique fished a small can of cat food out of her coat pocket and popped the lid.

‘I did not want to open it on the bus. I was worried that if anyone sees it they will take it. It is food,
n’est-ce pas
?’

‘I’ll make sure they leave you alone,’ said Jack. ‘That’s your food – you can do what you like with it.’

‘Thank you. I will put it in her cage when she is finished.’ She said something to the cat in French. The cat checked out her surroundings once more then walked daintily on stiff legs out from under the bush, tiptoeing a little deeper into the sodden greenery of the verge.

Greg was watching the three of them through the window.

‘Look at those idiots,’ he said to Liam and chuckled. ‘They ain’t even got the sense to be scared.’

‘Is it all right to be scared, Dad?’ Liam asked quietly.

‘A little, son, just a little. Keeps you on your toes.’

‘D’you get scared?’

‘Course I do. Wouldn’t be human otherwise, would I? But you don’t have to be scared, Liam, ’cause I’m always gonna be here to look after you.’

‘I try, Dad. I try not to be. But I ain’t like you, really. You’re a man.’

Greg put an arm round Liam and gave him a bear hug.

‘Listen, Liam, everything I’m doing, I’m doing for you. I sound like that soppy song, don’t I? But it’s true. I don’t really care about me, whether I live or die, quite frankly, and before you go getting all down in the mouth I don’t aim to be kicking the bucket any time in the near future, OK? Not while I’ve got you to look out for. My job now is the same as it’s always been, since the day you was born. To protect you. To stop you from being scared. To put my arms round you. It’s a bad world out there, son, and without me you’d be dead in five minutes.’

‘I know, Dad.’

‘So you have to listen to me, do as I say. If anything was to happen to you, I’d go mad. Maybe that’s what’s keeping me healthy, eh? My love for you.’

‘Could be, Dad.’

Greg rubbed the top of Liam’s head with his fist.

‘You’re a good boy. I’m so proud of you, son. So proud. You’re all I live for.’

Ed stood on the lowest step of the bus to get a better vantage point. He was nervous being out here, but he’d wanted to keep close to Jack, even though it was obvious that Jack didn’t really want him around. He was trying to talk to Frédérique and Ed felt like a spare part. Maybe if he kept watch he might appear to be useful.

Jack was watching the cat as she rooted around among the plants.

‘Listen, Frédérique,’ he said. ‘I know you’ve been through some bad stuff, we all have. But … if you want to talk about any of it, you know, it might help.’

‘I am scared,’ she said bluntly.

‘We’re all scared,’ said Jack.

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