The Dead (26 page)

‘Depends,’ said Ed. ‘It’s best to run rather than fight.’

‘We have to assume we
will
meet some of them,’ said Jack. ‘And we
will
have to fight. If anyone’s got a problem with that, they should stay behind.’

Nobody said anything.

‘Let’s go then.’

‘I must be crazy coming along with you,’ Courtney said quietly to Brooke as they went across to the steps that led down into the stretch of park at the side of the museum.

‘Sisters are doing it for themselves,’ said Brooke, and she gave Courtney a high five. Aleisha joined in and then the three of them forced Frédérique to do one too. They giggled at her half-hearted effort.

‘Get down, girl,’ said Brooke. ‘Don’t be so snooty and, like, grown-up all the time. We’re all kids in this together, yeah?’

‘Yeah.’ Frédérique tried again, this time really slapping Brooke hard.

‘That’s more like it, sister!’

Halfway to the edge of the park they heard a shout from behind and turned round to see Justin the nerd running towards them, awkwardly carrying a rifle and bayonet.

‘Now what?’ said Jack. ‘Is he coming too?’

‘Surely not,’ said Ed.

Justin was out of breath when he caught up with them, red-faced from running.

‘I’m going to help,’ he said.

‘You sure about this?’ Ed asked.

‘Yes, I’m sure.’

‘We’re not going on a picnic, Justin,’ said Jack, sounding a little harsher than he had meant.

Justin looked nervous and angry at the same time. He took a deep breath and the words tumbled out of him. ‘You said something to me yesterday, Jack. You said I wasn’t a proper nerd.’

‘I was mucking about, Just’.’

Justin was blushing now. ‘I know what everyone thinks,’ he said. ‘That just because I’m clever, because I study hard and don’t do sports, just because I like computers, and know how they work, because I like
Star Trek
and
Robot Wars
and have every
Doctor Who
DVD ever made, going right back to William Hartnell and including the rubbish one with Paul McGann, just because I’ve never had a girlfriend and don’t know what type of jeans I’m supposed to wear, you all dismiss me. You all think I’m a useless nerd.’

‘We don’t think that, Justin,’ said Ed.

‘Yes you do. I know you do. You call me Justin the nerd. Nerdy Justin. El Nerdo. That’s all I am. Nothing more than a nerd, hardly human. But I
am
human, and, yes, I suppose I
am
a nerd, but I want to prove to you that I’m not a complete waste of space. I’ll help you to find some more food. I’ll fight if I have to. I’ve been picked on and bullied all my life so I’ve had to learn how to defend myself. I’m actually quite strong, if you want to know.’ Justin stopped and glared at DogNut who had sniggered. DogNut looked embarrassed. He stopped sniggering and walked on.

‘Are there any more of you coming out?’ Jack asked, amused, staring back at the museum.

‘Don’t think so.’

‘What about Chris Marker?’

‘That geek! No way is he coming!’

At that moment Chris Marker was exploring the museum, carrying an old oil lamp. He had discovered a series of interconnected rooms hidden away down one side of the building that contained stack after stack of books, pamphlets, papers, letters and documents of all kinds relating to the history of warfare in the last century. It would take several lifetimes to read all the words they contained.

He wasn’t frightened being alone here in the dark. Instead he felt a deep peace. He was reminded of TV ads for plug-in air fresheners where some woman would stick the little plastic thing in a socket and animated fumes would waft out and everyone would lift their faces, close their eyes, breathe in deeply and go ‘Aaaaaah’. Like they were taking some kind of drug rather than inhaling chemicals. Well, the smell of all these old books and papers did that for Chris. He felt very calm.

This place was like a church for Chris, a cathedral. In the unlit gloom the great shelves of books could easily have been solid walls. Walls of information. A castle of words.

He was safe here. In the quiet, inside his wall of words, he could think clearly.

It was strange to be at peace in a library where most of the books were to do with war, but he would need to learn about war now. He picked a cardboard box at random from a shelf and opened it. Inside was a pile of old army manuals, with instructions on how to fire different rifles. Whole little booklets for each gun. He had had no idea that guns were so complicated. He supposed that’s why they trained soldiers. All those guns downstairs in the exhibits and the armoury were useless without these manuals, little better than clubs or spears. It was only by using the power of these books that they could come alive.

He’d need time. Time to pick out what was useful. He’d start to make piles of books and pamphlets. Maybe he’d move a bed in here, and live with the books. He’d only ever need to go out to eat, and use the toilet.

He was smiling at the thought. It was the first time he’d been alone since this whole nightmare had started. Properly alone. It was a delicious feeling.

No, not really alone, when he came to think about it, because he had the books for company, and to him they were like living, breathing things. The writers were there among the book stacks with him, like friendly spirits. Whenever he opened a book and read the words hidden inside it he was waking a ghost and the ghost would talk directly to him. The long-dead writer would come alive.

One of Jordan’s boys had told him that this part of the museum was supposed to be haunted by a real ghost, the Grey Lady. He wasn’t scared by the idea. He could imagine her, watching over him, watching over the precious books, the guardian of all the other ghosts they contained.

He was aware of a presence. Someone was there. He’d caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked along one of the book stacks. There was a woman there, dressed in grey. Crouched over, watching him. For some reason he still didn’t feel scared.

‘Hello,’ he said, but the woman didn’t respond.

He held up his lamp to get a better look. The woman’s skin was as grey as her old-fashioned clothes, but she didn’t look diseased, instead she looked beautiful, as if lit by an inner light. There was a half smile on her lips.

He walked towards her, and as the light from his lamp fell on her she disappeared. One moment she was there and then she seemed to dissolve into the books.

Chris had always seen ghosts. His mother had taken him to see a doctor who’d tried to explain that they weren’t real.

What did doctors know?

Chris sat down on the floor.

He realized he was crying.

DogNut wouldn’t shut up. Jack reckoned it was because he was nervous. Leaving the park had felt like stepping out of safety into danger. The road they were on, Kennington Road, was pretty wide and gave them a good view in both directions if they kept to the middle and so far it had been weirdly quiet. They hadn’t seen anyone else but they all had a nervy prickly feeling as if they were being watched by unseen eyes. The others had tensed and gone silent, but not DogNut – he kept up a running commentary.

‘Why’s there never any zomboids around?’ he was saying. ‘Where do they all go in the daylight? Where’s all the dead bodies?’

‘Maybe they’ve all been eaten,’ said Jack. His helmet already felt heavy on his head and the sword banged against his leg as he walked. ‘They’ve got to eat something.’

‘True that,’ said DogNut. ‘Except they prefer fresh meat. The living.
Us
. But, I mean, think about it, there was bare people in London before. Where’d they all go? It’s too spooky.’

‘You want to go back?’ Jack asked.

‘No way, soldier. I can’t bust no moves stuck in that museum all day. Nice bundle will be a good way to get some exercise.’ He waved his arms about and took a few practice swipes with the samurai sword he carried.

‘Watch what you’re doing with that thing,’ said Jack.

‘It’s safe, man. Jordan makes us all do weapons practice. Drilling. But I’m telling you, blood, there’s only so many war games you can play in a day. Don’t try telling Jordan Hordern that, though. He’s nuts about anything to do with war and the military. I reckon he thinks he’s a real general.’

‘He seems pretty cold,’ said Jack.

‘That’s not the half of it, brother. He’s bonkers, I reckon. He never talks about his old life. Never talks about nothing normal. Just stares at you and yacks on about war and fighting. I reckon he’s some kind of an ick.’

‘A what?’

‘You know, like he’s autistic, or dyslexic, schizophrenic, alcoholic, something like that. Before all this he was just some sort of war-obsessed loony, now it’s his cold freaky brain that’s kept us all alive, which is why we do whatever he tells us to do. All hail the general!’

Bam was walking with Ed. He kept glancing up at the sky. Overhead it was still a clear pale blue, but ahead of them, to the south, it looked unnaturally dark.

He pointed it out to Ed.

‘Do you reckon it’s storm clouds?’

‘Dunno.’ Ed studied the blackening patch. ‘Can you see a kind of red glow along the bottom?’ he asked after a while. ‘Or am I imagining it?’

Bam squinted. ‘My eyesight’s not brilliant, to tell you the truth, mate. I should have had an eye test ages ago, but I was too scared.’

‘Scared?’ Ed shook his head, smiling. ‘You’re Bam the man. You’re not scared of anything.’

‘No word of a lie,’ said Bam. ‘I was a nervous wreck. I thought if I needed glasses I might not be able to play rugger any more. Wouldn’t be able to see the ball.’ He did a mime of someone fumbling to catch a ball, cross-eyed, hands going in all directions.

Ed laughed. ‘They make special sports contact lenses, don’t they?’ he said. Then checked himself. ‘Or at least they used to.’

‘I know, I know, but it’s not the same. Rugger’s a pretty brutal sport. I’d have been worrying all the time.’

‘Well, it’s too late to get your eyes tested now.’ Ed chuckled. ‘Let’s hope you don’t go blind.’

‘Can you imagine?’ said Bam. ‘Being blind and trying to cope with all this.’

‘Dunno,’ said Ed. ‘Some ways it might make it easier. You know, you wouldn’t have to look at their ugly pizza faces for a start.’

‘No,’ said Bam. ‘I don’t even want to think about it. That would be just too frightening. Urgh!’

Ed laughed, but his eyes were firmly fixed on the black sky ahead. ‘I can definitely see what looks like a glow along the bottom,’ he said. ‘Can you not see it at all?’

Bam turned and bellowed at the girls. ‘Oi! What do you reckon that cloud is, ladies? Can you see a red glow in it at all?’

Aleisha nodded.

‘Red or, like, orange,’ she said. ‘Flickering.’

Bam sighed. ‘It’s probably a fire then.’

‘You think?’

‘Yup.’

‘That’s a shed-load of smoke if it is,’ DogNut called from the front.

‘Well, there’s no one to put it out, is there?’ said Bam. ‘Look at all these houses, packed right next to each other. There’s so much stuff in them that’ll burn really easily once a fire takes hold. This whole place could go up.’

‘Looks a long way off,’ said Ed. ‘I don’t think we need to start panicking just yet.’

‘Well, you let us know, won’t you, Ed,’ said Jack, with a slight mocking tone. ‘When we
do
need to start panicking.’

‘Guys?’ Brooke sounded nervous. ‘I think that maybe
now’s
the time to start panicking.’

She was pointing down the road. There was a group of sickos ahead, crouching over something that was lying on the ground.

‘What do you reckon?’ said DogNut. ‘Fight them or go round?’

‘Come off it,’ said Ed. ‘We go round them, obviously. There’s no point fighting if we don’t have to. I mean, it’s not like we can’t go another way, is it?’

‘I say we fight them,’ said DogNut. ‘They don’t look much.’

‘What’s the point?’

‘Show them who’s boss. Show them we own these streets, blood.’