The End (4 page)

The two guys set off fast, back towards the entrance, as the first of the grown-ups emerged, coughing and sneezing.
A mother with red weepy eyes stumbled towards Achilleus. She had a bad case of the shakes. Others quickly
filled in around her. Paddy saw a horrible gallery of swollen, bloated, diseased faces, covered in boils and lumps and growths, awful festering gashes, down to the bone. Bits missing – eyes and ears and noses. Some were naked, their bodies even worse than their faces, with patches
of mould, terrible purple bruising. And they stank. Stank so bad Paddy forgot his own smell. Soundlessly they fixed on Achilleus, Paddy and Zulficker and moved towards them.

‘Slowly now,’ said Achilleus backing away, but suddenly a smaller father, a teenager really, came darting forward, hands up, fingers clawed. Zulficker jabbed at him with the sharp end of his crowbar, getting
him in the chest. He croaked and dropped. The others kept on moving. And Achilleus’s group was forced to speed up.

‘Are they all coming?’ said Zulficker, peering into the smoke.

‘Enough of them,’ said Achilleus and he glanced back over his shoulder. Paddy did too. Ryan and the others were approaching the door they had come in by, Ryan calling to the guys outside that it was
them coming out, not some crazed grown-ups. They moved out into the light and Paddy turned back. The grown-ups were nearer, coming faster than grown-ups usually did. Achilleus stabbed at the weepy mother as she got too close and took her neatly in one eye. It was like she’d been switched off. She flopped over and crashed into the wall and slithered down it, thin yellow drool leaking
from her mouth. The other grown-ups trampled over her.

‘They sure are keen,’ said Achilleus. ‘And hungry.’

Paddy saw something moving along behind them. Something low and dark. The thing he’d seen in the storeroom. What was it? There was a tall father behind it, arm
outstretched, head tilted up. The dark shape had to be an animal of some sort. What else?

And then the smoke
thickened in the corridor and Paddy couldn’t see anything any more.

‘Come on, caddie, you’re gonna be left behind.’

Paddy realized that they’d reached the doorway and they spilt out into the fresh air. He saw that Ryan’s hunters were arranged on either side of the path, weapons ready, dogs trembling with excitement. He gulped in great lungfuls of air. So glad to be outside
again. So glad they weren’t alone.

A father came out first; he was bald and, even before the hunters fell on him, Paddy could see his skin erupting, lumps growing on his scalp, his face swelling. A hunter stepped forward and swung at his head with a machete. But there was no real need. The guy’s face was already splitting open, grey jelly-like stuff oozing through the rips in
his skin. He was bursting. Paddy had never seen a live burster before.

The father collapsed to the ground, his flesh boiling off his body, his insides spilling out. Paddy wondered if they’d all go the same way, but while the others clearly didn’t like being out in the light none of them burst like the father.

The hunters were merciless, chopping at the grown-ups from both
sides as one by one they came staggering out of the door. Achilleus was among them, darting in and stabbing with his spear. Paddy didn’t join them. He made the faces. He yelled at the grown-ups. He took up a position with his spear, copying the little plastic action figures he loved to play with. But he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t go in and cut them with the
Gáe Bolg
. It was a mixture
of fear and squeamishness. The memory of the sentinel. The press of Paddy’s blade against his skin. The
way it pushed back and then gave, went soft, opened up. The memory of the sentinel’s belly ripping open. His guts falling out. Spraying his filth over Paddy.

Paddy wasn’t ready for that again.

Was it nearly over? Paddy stared at the door. Waiting. The animal hadn’t come out.
The dark shape he’d seen crawling down the corridor. He was trembling. No idea what to expect.

A black nose peeped out of the doorway, sniffing, a face – brown fur and bright eyes.

A hunter moved in, spear raised.

‘No!’ Paddy shouted. ‘Don’t. It’s a dog. It’s just a dog.’

The hunter held back.

It was a brown Labrador, and as it came fully out Paddy saw that it had a
yellow hi-viz harness round its body. It was on a lead, bringing a father out into the light. Blind. Empty eye sockets. Flesh rotted away almost to nothing. Instead of a white stick, he was feeling his way with a long, thin child’s arm clutched in his free hand.

The hunters looked at each other, then to Ryan for leadership. To Achilleus. What should they do?

Achilleus stepped
up behind the father and struck him quickly and cleanly in the neck, cutting his spine. The father fell and the dog turned, whimpered once, sniffed at him, licked his face. Sat down next to him.

Paddy watched as the dog looked at Achilleus, then got up, its tail wagging, and went over to him. Sniffed his hand. Achilleus knelt down.

And Paddy saw him smile in a way he’d never
seen before.

4

‘He’s a champion, Akkie. He’s a prince.’

‘He’s a princess actually,’ said Achilleus and he laughed.

‘What do you mean?’

‘She’s a bitch.’

‘Does that mean she won’t fight?’

Achilleus laughed even louder. ‘Girls can fight just as well as boys, caddie. You’ve seen it for yourself.’

‘Sure. Yeah. Sure. She won’t be a princess, though. She’ll be a warrior queen!’

Achilleus wasn’t sure why he’d changed his mind. Paddy had pleaded and pleaded and pleaded with him and in the end he’d given in. There was something about the dog. Something special. For a start she was well trained, not at all aggressive. She might be good for Paddy. The little boy didn’t need another killer around; he needed a friend. She might settle him down and give him
a sense of security. It was like she’d been given to them. A gift from the gods. And she was Achilleus’s gift to Paddy.

Jesus, the boy was happy. He was marching along the road back to the museum, chattering away, praising the dog. The fear had lifted from him. Achilleus felt good that he’d done a good thing – something that hadn’t involved extreme violence.

Before they’d left,
Ryan and his hunters had cleared out the building and lugged the dead grown-ups out behind the gallery where they’d made a fire from broken chairs and wood. Set fire to the lot of them, filling the park with smoke and the smell of roasting meat.

‘This is how we live,’ said Ryan, joining them. ‘We keep these places clear of any bastards. We keep the park safe so that kids can
come get water. We collect useful stuff. We clean up. And to pay us the settlements give us food and drink and anything else we need.’

‘Don’t seem to be so many grown-ups around here,’ said Achilleus.

‘Not any more,’ said Ryan. ‘Not since the other day. There was, like, an army come through. God knows where they all went. Some days we still find some hiding out like today, but
otherwise I don’t know where they are, where they gone.’

‘I don’t like it,’ said Paddy. ‘It’s spooky. They can’t all just disappear.’

‘Sometimes,’ said Achilleus. ‘Have you felt it? Before a big storm? There’s a stillness. Like the day’s become heavy.’

‘The calm before the storm,’ said Ryan, ‘is what they call it.’

‘Yeah,’ said Paddy. ‘The calm before the storm.’

‘So you saying we about to be hit by a big storm?’ said Ryan.

‘A shit storm,’ said Achilleus.

‘A sick storm more like,’ said Paddy.

‘I sure would like to know where they all gone to, though,’ said Ryan.

‘
I
know,’ said a voice and Achilleus looked round to see
someone standing by the fence at the edge of the road. None of them had spotted him before. It was like
he’d appeared from nowhere. Must have been hiding in the bushes or behind a tree. He had on a grey cloak with a hood and was carrying a crossbow and a long staff that he was leaning on slightly as if he had a bad leg.

Ryan’s lot all stopped and took up a defensive position, ready for anything, wary of this new kid.

‘Do I know you?’ Ryan asked, his voice cold and hard.

‘Nope,’ said the boy. ‘But you’ve been enjoying my beer.’

‘Your beer?’

‘Yeah. Ed bartered it with me.’

‘So those crossbow bolts we got were for you?’

‘Yeah.’

Achilleus knew all about the arrangements Ed had made to get hold of the car. The series of exchanges that had meant Ed ended up driving off west in a big blue people carrier and Ryan and his hunters had got drunk
on the steps of the museum. Ryan had given Ed crossbow bolts, Ed had given them to this guy, who’d given him the beer, and Ed had given the beer to Ryan.

‘So, you got any more beer?’ Ryan asked.

‘Might do.’

‘I’ve heard of you,’ said Zulficker. ‘You’re the kid called Shadowman, innit?’

Achilleus sniggered. ‘Dumb name,’ he said.

‘Yeah,’ Paddy agreed. ‘Dumb.’

‘You really Shadowman?’ asked Ryan.

‘Yeah.’

‘Respect.’

‘You don’t run with no crew, do you?’ said Zulficker.

‘Not if I can help it.’

‘So you reckon you know where all the grown-ups have gone?’ Achilleus asked.

‘Yeah. I’ve seen them. To the north of here. An army of them. Moving slowly down from Kilburn. And any day now they’re going to get here and that is gonna
be one bad day, let me tell you.’

‘So what is it you want, Shadowman?’ Ryan asked.

‘I want to stop them.’

‘Yeah, fair enough, but what is it you want from us? Precisely?’

‘Why do you assume I want anything?’

‘You’re human.’

‘Guess so.’

‘You’ve broken cover,’ Ryan went on. ‘You’ve worked up a sweat to track us down and follow us and pop out the bushes on us
here in the park. And you ain’t out walking your dog, because you ain’t got a dog. What I know of you, you ain’t gonna do none of that without a reason.’

‘If you want more beer, I can trade with you.’

‘We ain’t got no more bolts, Shadow. You cleaned us out.’

‘I’ve got enough bolts.’

‘So what is it you need?’

‘You know a guy called Jester?’

‘At the palace? Yeah.’

‘He there now? As far as you know?’

‘Raggedy kid?’ said Achilleus. ‘Wears a patchwork coat? Some call him Jester, some call him Magic-Man, some call him Bell-end. Slippery? Don’t trust the little rat?’

‘That’s him,’ said Shadowman.

‘He’s there,’ said Achilleus. ‘I know, because we saved his raggedy arse and took him there.’

‘You from the Holloway crew?’ said
Shadowman.

‘Yeah.’

‘What do you want with Jester?’ Ryan asked Shadowman.

Shadowman smiled.

‘All I need is for you to take him a message.’

5

Maxie was kneeling by one of the vegetable beds in front of the museum. Scrabbling in the dirt. She’d gone into a sort of trance, forgotten what she was supposed to be doing. She stared down at her hands. They were streaked with mud. It looked like blood. She closed her eyes. Wanted to sleep. All her energy was gone. She could hear birds singing in the trees. So many of them.
She realized she was shaking.

Pull yourself together, girl.

She stood up. Took a deep breath. She knew that after an adrenalin rush, when the body had been fighting to keep you alive, there was always a massive comedown. Turned out that was harder than she’d imagined. When they were doing things – fighting, moving, hiding – there wasn’t time to think. Now there was
lots of time. Too much time. As the weight of danger was lifted, it allowed darkness and depression to seep in. Post-traumatic stress – that’s what they called it. She’d seen a documentary about it once. Soldiers coming back from the Middle East.

For them war had been easier than peace.

She didn’t want war again, though. She didn’t want to be back in the world of danger among
the blood and the warm stink of attacking grown-ups. She didn’t want to be
fighting for her life again soon, or any time, thank you, God.

She looked over to where a bunch of little kids were playing. They were all clustered round Paddy’s new dog, which sat there patiently, as the kids’ puppy, Godzilla, barked at it and jumped up to bite its ear. It sounded like they were trying
to think what to call the new dog, all shouting out names …