The Dead (23 page)

‘I don’t want to stay here anyway,’ said Jack. ‘I want to get home.’

‘Then why the hell were you arguing so much with Jordan bloody Hordern?’

‘He wound me up,’ said Jack. ‘I don’t like anyone talking to me like that.’

‘I don’t want to stay here, either,’ said Matt. ‘I need to carry on to St Paul’s. It’s been ordained that –’

‘Give it a rest, Matt,’ said Ed. ‘We’re fed up of hearing about your bloody made-up religion.’

‘It’s not made up.’

‘Yes it is. Nothing has
been ordained
. It’s all come out of your head.’

‘And what about this, then?’ said Matt, angrily tapping his forehead.

‘What about what?’

‘The mark of the Lamb.’

‘It’s a scab, Matt.’

‘It’s the mark of the Lamb.’

Ed laughed harshly, using his laughter like a weapon.

‘It doesn’t matter whether you believe us, anyway,’ said Archie Bishop. ‘We want to carry on to St Paul’s. With or without you lot – it doesn’t make any difference.’

‘Doesn’t make any difference?’ Ed scoffed. ‘You’ll be murdered out there by yourselves.’

‘The Lamb will protect us.’

There were groans from the other tables and people started throwing things at Matt. Old discarded coffee cups, screwed-up paper, empty cigarette packets.

Matt tried not to react, as if he was above it all, but they could tell he was getting riled.

‘What does anyone else want to do?’ Ed asked when things had calmed down a little.

‘We want to stay with you,’ said Wiki. ‘We’ll go wherever you say you want to go. If we keep together, it’ll be safer. Like when fish form into shoals. Even though they’re a bigger target, individually they’re safer, and harder for predators to focus on. The chances of being picked out from a big swirling mass are less than if they’re swimming alone.’

‘Thank you, David Attenborough,’ said Jack, trying to cut him off.

‘We could find another building to shelter in,’ said Jibber-jabber. ‘There’s loads of places near the museum, I came here once with my dad, we had to park miles away and walk, there’s all sorts of houses, I bet if we explored we could find something great, we don’t need to stay here, I don’t like Jordan Hordern or any of them, actually, although I liked the look of that game they were playing, I like toy soldiers, at home I’ve got hundreds, and now we’ve got our own gun and maybe they’ll let us have some weapons from the museum, we could be like a commando squad, you’re good fighters and –’

‘Not all of us,’ said Bam darkly, looking at Kwanele.

‘I never said I was a fighter,’ Kwanele protested.

‘I thought we weren’t going to go on about that.’ Ed sounded tired and fed up.

‘Sorry.’ Bam bowed his head.

Frédérique suddenly let out a sob and collapsed face down on the tabletop, crying. Jack and Ed both put a hand on her, trying to comfort her. She was tugging at her hair, hysterical.

‘What’s the matter with
her
?’ said Brooke snottily, and Aleisha jabbed her with an elbow.

‘What?’ said Brooke. ‘I only asked what was the matter.’

‘What do you think?’ said Ed. ‘If we weren’t all trying so hard to act tough, we’d all be face down on the table crying like babies. Because that’s all we are. Just babies. This is all too much for any of us to handle.’

‘I ain’t crying,’ said Brooke. ‘I ain’t giving up.’

Jack clapped sarcastically. ‘Well done, you.’

‘It’s stupid,’ said Frédérique. ‘We are all going to die. What’s the point of all this talking? Why must we argue?’ She raised her head. Her face was blotchy and streaked with tears. ‘Why do we need to find somewhere safe? Why do we need to do anything? We are all going to die. I thought there was some hope. Greg was not ill. I thought if just one adult was not ill there was hope for us. But he is ill, and there is no hope …’

Frédérique was crying so much she started to choke, and she crumpled down again, weeping, choking, coughing and spluttering.

‘Cheery soul, ain’t she?’ said Brooke, and Aleisha elbowed her again.

The big glass door opened and DogNut came in.

‘OK, listen up,’ he said, clapping his hands together. ‘Jordan Hordern’s made a decision.’ He pointed at Ed. ‘You, wossyourname …’

‘Ed.’

‘OK, Ed my man, you go and talk to the general. He’s waiting for you. Chop-chop. The rest of you, chillax.’

Ed and Jordan Hordern were sitting side by side in the front seats of a Second World War Jeep, looking out across the atrium. It was cold and the thin winter light that made its way through the massive arched glass ceiling did little to lift the gloom. Jordan had given Ed a furry blanket that he’d wrapped tightly about his body.

‘You mustn’t take any of this personally,’ Jordan was saying, staring straight ahead without looking at Ed.

‘I don’t,’ Ed replied. ‘I know where you’re coming from.’

‘Good. I don’t hate any of you. But I have to look after my people.’

‘It’s cool. So you’re booting us out?’

‘Not necessarily. Like I said, we don’t have enough food here to support any more people. But there’s a simple answer. I’ll let you take any weapons you want. There’s way too many for us to use. And I’ll let you stay here …’

‘Thanks.’

‘I ain’t finished.’

‘Oh. Right.’

‘As I was saying. You can sleep here tonight. No conditions. I’ll put you in the 1940s house.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Special exhibit, complete wartime house with all the stuff in it. Beds and everything. I figure the little kids you got with you will feel more at home in there. Less freaked out.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Then, after that, you can stay here as long as you want, so long as you can feed yourselves.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What I say. Don’t worry about water, there’s plenty in the tanks here, but if you want to eat you gonna have to go out and find it.’

‘That sounds fair, I guess,’ said Ed. ‘I’ll see what the others think about it. Can you let us have any food to keep us going?’

‘Nope. I’ve given you my offer. I won’t change it. They’re pretty good guys, the guys here. You stick with us, we’ll be strong. But you got to swing your weight.’

Ed was thinking through how this arrangement might work. ‘Do you think there’s food out there?’ he asked.

‘Don’t see why not,’ said Jordan. ‘Take it from me, though, you won’t find nothing fresh: no bread, no eggs, no milk, no fresh vegetables and fruit, nothing like that.’

‘Have you got any of that stuff?’

‘Nope. We got cans and packets of dry stuff. It ain’t exactly healthy but it keeps us alive.’

‘Where’d you get it all from?’

‘We wasn’t the only ones who had the idea to hole up in here. Some guys was here first. Men. Real nasty. They was tooled up, and must have brought a load of kit in with them, boxes and cans and whatever. I think maybe they’d robbed a supermarket or something. They killed off the guards looking after the place and was settled in for a siege, but like everybody else they found out real quick that the enemy was inside, not outside. The sickness. Already eating away at them.’ Jordan paused, ran his fingers round the rim of the steering wheel.

‘What happened to them?’ Ed asked.

‘Tore each other to pieces. The ones who was slower to get sick whacking the ones who got sick first. When we turned up, there was only five of them left. We got rid of them, but they took out a bunch of us. It was pretty heavy duty. Which is why we figure we earned the right to what’s here.’

‘So there were more of you to start with?’

‘Twenty-two. Five died in the attack. One died after of an infected wound. Two more got sick later on – turned out they was older than we knew – broke out in spots; we ejected them quick. Then four more left to try their luck elsewhere.’

‘What were you, all at the same school?’

‘We’re a mix. Family, friends, school, we all just sort of come together out on the streets, moving from place to place until we washed up here about five weeks ago.’

‘OK.’ Ed sighed and got out of the Jeep. His muscles felt stiff and sore from being tensed for so long. ‘I can see why you want to look after what you’ve got,’ he said. ‘I’ll go talk to the others. You sure you can’t give us any food, though? They’re all pretty hungry.’

‘You want to eat, you got to go shopping.’

Ed was overcome with tiredness. Everything seemed such a struggle. He rubbed his face with his hands. ‘I just don’t know where to start,’ he said.

‘Can I make a suggestion?’

‘Sure.’

‘What was you eating before you got here?’

‘There was stuff on the bus.’

‘What I thought.’

Ed looked at Jordan Hordern. His glasses were glinting in the half-light.

‘So what’s your suggestion?’ he asked.

‘Go back to the bus,’ said Jordan. ‘See if there’s any of it left.’

Ed nodded. ‘Sounds like a good plan.’

‘But first,’ said Jordan, ‘you need to get yourselves some serious weapons.’

The main exhibition gallery of the museum was on the next floor down, underground. Ed remembered coming here with the school. It was a big, dimly lit, windowless area filled with display cases and divided into various sections. There were exhibits covering the two world wars, and another covering conflicts since 1945. There were also a couple of special sections like the Blitz Experience. The rows of glass cases were filled with dummies in uniform and hundreds of guns, grenades, knives, small artillery pieces, maps, banners, personal items and equipment.

Six boys were coming down the stairs, their torch beams showing the way. Jack, Ed, Bam and Jordan were at the front followed by Matt and Archie Bishop. Ed’s torch wasn’t working properly; the beam kept cutting out. He rattled it, then banged it against his palm and swore.

‘Not scared of the dark, are you?’ Jordan asked.

‘Not the dark,’ said Ed. ‘Only what hides in it.’

As he said it, Ed’s torch came back on. It landed on a face and he jumped. The others laughed.

‘Only a dummy,’ said Bam.

Ed didn’t like it down here. Everywhere he turned there was another dummy. He was surrounded by perfect, clean-faced young men, frozen to attention, or holding their guns ready for action. They looked very different from the men who now roamed London’s streets with their bloated faces and ruined flesh, but they still gave him the creeps.

His heart was thumping. He felt like a silly little kid. Frightened of ghosts. But he couldn’t shrug the feeling off. He’d been strung out for so long, scared for so long, not sleeping, not eating properly, it was no wonder he was on edge.

And what if there were sickos down here? What if one had got in and was hiding in the dark? Waiting to jump him? What if …?

He told himself not to be an idiot, but stayed close to the others all the same.

‘Most of this stuff’s no use to you,’ said Jordan. ‘Mostly guns without ammo, and you’d need a manual to work out how to use them. There’s some gear through this way you might like, though.’

He led them into the First World War section and shone his torch into a trench warfare cabinet whose glass had been kicked in.

‘I’d suggest you take a rifle or two,’ he said. ‘No bullets for these, but they got straps to carry over your shoulder, and if you stick them bayonets on the end you can use them like spears. I recommend the British Lee-Enfield. It’s a good solid gun.’

Ed reached in and took a rifle from the display, then found a bayonet that fitted it.

‘There’s a load more weapons in the armoury downstairs,’ Jordan explained. ‘And ammo too, but I’m keeping the best stuff for my boys, you understand.’

‘We understand,’ said Jack wearily. ‘You’re keeping the best stuff.’

Jack hadn’t quite forgiven Jordan, but he had to admit that these weapons would be very handy.

‘These are useful too,’ said Jordan, swinging his torch beam over to the case opposite that held a selection of weapons for close-up, hand-to-hand fighting in the trenches. Clubs, knives, knuckledusters, knuckleduster knives …

Ed and Bam tried some of them. Bam picked out a sturdy wooden club that was studded with bits of metal and nails. It looked completely evil and Bam grinned, taking a few practice swings. Finally he turned to one of the dummies and caved its face in with one blow.