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Me neither. Talking don’t make anything better. Maybe I should bark like a dog.
I don’t think you should, people will think you’re weird.
They already do. But I don’t care. I’m never going to talk again.
The grown-ups don’t talk any more.
No. But you know what, Godzilla, they are stupid.
Will you really never talk again?
I think so. I’m happy like this. I’m safe. If nobody can hear your thoughts they can’t hurt you. You’re the only one who knows me, Godzilla. And I’m the only one who knows you. We’ll always be friends, won’t we?
Yeah. Do you like any of the new kids?
I like Maxie, she’s nice. And Maeve is kind. But Achilleus scares me.
Are you looking forward to getting to the palace?
Yeah. I’ve never been to a palace before. In fact I’ve never left Holloway before. I wish I’d come here before everything went wrong.
‘Can I hold him?’
Bill looked up. Ella was talking to him. He held Godzilla tighter. It wasn’t her turn yet. He’d only had him a little while.
‘Let her hold him,’ said Monkey-Boy. ‘She’s getting upset thinking about her brother again.’
Bill held Godzilla even tighter. The dog squirmed in his arms and whimpered. Bill loosened his grip a little.
Don’t worry. You can still talk to me if she’s carrying me.
Bill shook his head.
Whitney came over. She was only thirteen but to the small kids she was as big and imposing as an adult.
‘What’s the matter?’ she said.
‘Ella wants to hold the puppy,’ said Monkey-Boy, ‘because she’s sad thinking about her brother, but it’s Bill’s turn.’
‘What about Bill? Does he mind? Do you mind, Bill?’
Bill shook his head. He wasn’t going to let go. Even if he was a little bit scared of Whitney.
‘Come on.’ Whitney picked Ella up and put her on her shoulders. ‘When Bill’s had his go you can carry the dog. It’ll be something to look forward to, yeah?’
Ella nodded, swallowing her tears. She would never argue with Whitney. She looked sadly down at Godzilla. Sam would have liked him. Sam loved dogs. He’d always wanted one of his own.
She wondered if there would be other dogs at the palace. Jester said they had it all set up nice. Like a farm. Maybe there would be chickens and lambs. She’d like to see some lambs.
Maybe Godzilla would try to chase them.
No. They’d keep him on a lead.
‘You all right?’ Whitney looked up and squeezed Ella’s knee.
‘I think so.’
Maxie left her team on the flank and moved among the kids, making sure they were OK. Joking about their clothes. She saw Ella on Whitney’s shoulders, the two of them chatting away. Whitney was wearing a new white tracksuit that was slightly tight on her. Her big body packed it out.
Ella looked like she’d been crying. Maxie asked if she was all right.
‘She’s OK,’ said Whitney. ‘She was just thinking about her brother, Sam. I told her he’s gone to heaven where he’ll be happy.’
‘Yeah.’ Maxie gave Ella’s knee a squeeze. ‘Don’t fret about him. He’s gone somewhere where he can’t be hurt any more.’
‘I miss him.’
‘We all miss him. But when we get to the palace we can make new friends, meet new people. They’ll never replace Sam, I know, but it’ll be a new start for us.’
‘Will there be princesses at the palace?’
Maxie laughed. ‘I don’t think so, darling. Just normal kids like us. So you stop your crying, OK? Just think happy thoughts.’
‘What about you?’ said Whitney, fixing Maxie with a stare. ‘You thinking happy thoughts?’
‘Trying to. Trying to keep busy.’
‘So you’re good?’
‘I’m good,’ said Maxie.
Whitney studied her. ‘If you’re lying I’ll know.’
‘As good as can be expected,’ said Maxie.
‘That’s right,’ said Whitney. ‘Reckon that’s the best any of us can say. Is that boy, Blue, behaving himself?’
Maxie nodded. ‘I guess so. We’re sorting it out between us.’
‘He’s cool, you know,’ said Whitney. ‘He helped all of us in Morrisons through some hard times, some bare hard times, you better believe it. That’s why he’s in charge.’
‘I was wondering about that,’ said Maxie. ‘In the meeting, back at Waitrose, you seemed to be the one that everyone listened to.’
‘Blue runs around and shouts and waves his spear, but it’s us sisters who really rule the roost. The kids, though, they felt safer with a man… well, a boy, in charge. A fighter. There was a lot of fighting in them days.’
‘You needed a wartime leader,’ said Maxie.
‘War is right. And talking of war, you should be out on the flank with your team. I can look after the little ones.’
‘Sure.’ Maxie smiled and rejoined her unit.
Lewis, on the other flank, was entertaining his team with a long story about a football match he’d played in where three kids had broken their legs. They were all laughing but keeping a watchful eye out at the same time.
‘By the end of the game,’ said Lewis, ‘everyone was, like, walking around wide-eyed and shivering, too scared to run. Nobody would tackle anyone, they was too scared to even, like, kick the ball, man. I was in goal, so I wasn’t too bothered, and in the end they had to call the match off. Can you imagine. Three people! It was carnage, man.’
This part of London couldn’t have been more different from Holloway, where they had started their journey. There were expensive flats and houses, antique shops, art galleries, a Porsche dealer still with some cars in the showroom.
‘Do you think there’ll be a better class of zombies round here?’ said Ollie.
Sophie was walking with him. Ollie was the Holloway kid who had shown her the most kindness. She noticed that he kept himself to himself. Didn’t cosy up with any one particular group of kids. He was quiet and thoughtful, something of an outsider. Perhaps that was what he saw in her. She was an outsider too.
‘They’re not technically zombies, are they?’ said Sophie.
‘No,’ said Ollie. ‘They’re not the living dead, as such. Thank God they can’t come back to life after you whack them.’
Ollie was almost walking backwards, so often was he turning round to check behind. Sophie was seeing more of the back of his red head than of his face.
‘You’re making me nervous,’ she said.
‘It’s good to be nervous,’ said Ollie. ‘We don’t want to end up as well-dressed corpses.’
‘You saw the grown-ups back at Selfridges,’ said Sophie. ‘I think you’re right. The ones round here are different.’
‘Yeah, well, I’ll bet you we have another fight on our hands before we get to the palace.’
‘You’re on,’ said Sophie. ‘How much d’you want to put on it?’
‘A million.’
‘A million? You haven’t got a million quid.’
‘What if I did?’ said Ollie. ‘What use would it be to me? There’s nothing to spend it on. Money doesn’t mean anything any more. What if we were to break into one of these posh banks round here? Get into the vault and take all the cash out. What would we ever use it for? Lighting fires?’
‘Actually, I don’t think bank notes burn that well,’ said Sophie. ‘But I take your point. So what do you want to bet with? How about my bow against your slingshot?’
‘Are you serious?’
‘No,’ said Sophie. ‘My bow is just about the most important thing in the world right now.’
‘Same goes for my slingshot.’
‘So the bet’s off?’
‘I’ve got a packet of biscuits,’ said Ollie. ‘You got any food?’
‘Tin of carrots.’
‘OK – I’ll bet my biscuits against your carrots.’
‘These biscuits?’ said Sophie. ‘Are they stale?’
‘What do you think?’
Sophie thought about it. ‘OK,’ she said at last. ‘You’re on.’
They shook on it.
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