The Enemy

Callum pressed Play on the beat-box and sat in his armchair. He smiled as the sound of Abba filled the shop. ‘Dancing Queen’. Abba had been his mum’s favourite band. She had taken him to see Mamma Mia live on stage and although he’d complained, secretly he’d enjoyed it. He couldn’t remember how many times they’d watched the DVD together. There were a lot of uncool things he liked but had to pretend to hate, like High School Musical and Harry Potter.

And Abba…

Well, now he could listen to what he wanted, he could read what he wanted, he could do what he wanted without any other kids laughing at him. He opened a can of peaches and took a gulp of the sweet juice. The taste exploded inside his mouth and he closed his eyes. He couldn’t remember when he had ever been happier.

*

Arran’s mouth was dry and he felt hungry. God, he was hungry. He was hungry and he was thirsty, but there was no pain. He felt nothing. He was drifting in a warm sea. He struggled to keep his eyes open. Sometimes the sky looked black, sometimes a brilliant, blinding white.

And sometimes it was red as blood.

He slept for a while, and dreamed of sitting at his Xbox.

When he woke his mother was there, cradling him in her arms, and he felt an overwhelming happiness. He wanted to tell everyone. The nightmare was over. His mother looked down into his face and smiled the most beautiful smile. He knew that everything was all right if she smiled at him like that. There were no more monsters. She brushed his hair off his forehead and rested a cool hand on his face. Like she always did when he was sick. To see if he was hot. And all the while her eyes were smiling at him.

‘I love you, baby,’ she said, and he smiled back. He opened his mouth to speak; he wanted to tell her something. It was hard to get the words out. They stuck in his dry throat.

They had bandaged the wound and wrapped Arran tightly around the chest. The white material was soon stained dark with blood, though. The wound was steadily leaking and nobody dared catch Maxie’s eye. They all knew the worst – Arran was dying – but Maxie wouldn’t admit it. They hated themselves for it, but they wanted to move on, leave Arran behind. It wasn’t safe here. The grown-ups had attacked once and they would attack again. The longer the kids stayed still, the more danger they were in.

But Maxie sat by the body and wouldn’t move. It was late. She’d been holding him for what seemed like hours. Talking quietly. Trying to give him water.

She could hear the others muttering. They were plotting. She knew they wanted to abandon Arran. She looked at his handsome face, so pale and tired looking. He hadn’t moved for ages.

And then his lips parted and Maxie’s heart leapt.

‘Come over here,’ she cried. ‘Quick. It’s all right, listen, he’s trying to speak.’

Ollie came back over with Maeve and Blue.

‘Listen,’ said Maxie. ‘I’m sure he’s trying to say something. He only needed a rest. He’s getting stronger at last. If he can speak he’s all right.’

Arran’s grey-blue eyes opened and they were clear and bright. He smiled at Maxie.

‘I love you, Mum,’ he said quietly and he died in Maxie’s arms.

23

They had ransacked the buildings and gardens nearby and collected everything they could find that would burn – fallen branches, tables, chairs, doors, pallets, scaffolding planks, tyres – and packed it around the BMW. It was no more use to them. Blue had driven it around, chasing off the last of the grownups after the battle, until the last of its petrol had run out.

Once they had a good-sized bonfire they wrapped Arran and the other dead kids in sheets. They wanted to make sure their faces were hidden. Then they placed the bodies on top of the heap.

Maxie had insisted. There was no way she was going to leave them here to be eaten. Arran and the others would be given a hero’s send-off.

The dead grown-ups they left where they had fallen.

Freak sprayed a message on to a nearby wall.

THIS IS WHERE ARRAN HARPER FELL. WE DON’T KNOW THE DAY OR THE DATE, BUT WE’LL NEVER FORGET IT. HE WAS THE BRAVEST OF US ALL. Whitney and Josh gave him the names of the other kids who had died and Freak added them to the mural, then finished it with a Freaky-Deaky tag.

When they were ready Maxie lit a match and approached the car.

Freak called her back.

‘Before you do that,’ he said, ‘can I say something?’

‘OK,’ said Blue, ‘but make it quick. We need to get going.’

‘I’ll be quick,’ said Freak. He took a breath and looked at the faces of the kids.

‘Arran talked to me this morning,’ he said. ‘Helped me to keep going. Now it’s my turn. We all lost someone we loved today. But the thing is, we won. We beat them. I was going to write something different over there. I was going to write “Arran Lives”. Cos it’s important we don’t forget what he wanted. To get to the palace and have a better life. And we mustn’t forget one other thing. Us kids are all in this together. We’re all on the same side. The grown-ups are the enemy. It was an accident, what happened to Arran. And I don’t want no one to blame Sophie. We work together, we survive together.’

‘Yeah, nice speech,’ said Achilleus with a touch of sarcasm. ‘Now light the fire.’

Maxie stepped forward and soon the great pile was sending flames several metres into the air. Maxie saw something lying on the ground and stooped to pick it up. It was Arran’s club. It felt heavy in her hands. It was all that was left of him.

From now on it was hers.

Once the kids were sure that the fire wasn’t going to go out they set off. They didn’t want to stay and watch the bodies burn to ash. They said their farewells and marched away in battle formation, the fire at their backs.

The plan was to keep going and try to get to the palace that night, even though it was late and the sky had grown dark. The problem was not only that there was nowhere in Camden for such a large party of kids to shelter safely, there was also the danger of a blaze that was spreading down from Kentish Town, consuming every building in its path and sending up thick smoke which further darkened the sky.

Sophie and the archers walked at the front with Blue and Jester. Then came the other fighters, Big Mick, Achilleus, Freak and the rest. Ollie and the skirmishers brought up the rear as ever. Lewis took up his position on the left flank. Maxie left Josh in charge of her group on the right flank, however, and joined the little kids in the centre of the column. She wanted to be with them, and take comfort from them. They were affectionate and caring and not afraid to show their emotions. They hugged Maxie and held her hand and told her it was all right and that they missed Arran, and they swapped stories about him, his great deeds. She nearly burst into tears again when little Joel gave her his puppy, Godzilla, to hold. The puppy felt warm and soft. He was very sleepy but he managed to lick her face before snuggling down in her arms. She walked on with Joel staring up at her.

Whitney came over and tickled the dog behind his ear.

‘Cute,’ she said, and Maxie smiled.

‘Listen,’ Whitney went on. ‘I’m sorry about Arran. We all are.’

‘It’s OK.’

‘I didn’t really know him,’ said Whitney, ‘but I could tell he was all right. You had a thing for him, didn’t you?’

‘I don’t know. We never spoke about it.’

‘Sometimes you don’t have to, girl.’

‘It just seems so unfair,’ said Maxie angrily. ‘You wake up one morning with your whole life ahead of you. So many things to see and do, and then – bang! You’re dead. There’s nothing. I can’t stop thinking about how his life has just stopped like that. He’ll never grow up. Never have kids of his own. Never grow old.’