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Now the pirate spoke. ‘Our problem with David is that he’s a tosser,’ he said. ‘We don’t like him. We don’t want him telling us what to do. Acting like he owns London.’
‘Well, can’t you at least let them grow their food in the park?’ said Maxie.
‘Why should we?’ said the pirate. ‘It’s not his park.’ He twirled his machete around flashily. Showing off.
‘Now, why don’t you sorry bunch of losers sod off out of it and leave us alone?’ said Just John.
‘We need to sort this out once and for all,’ said Jester.
‘Go on then,’ said Just John and he laughed.
‘All right,’ said Achilleus, stepping forward.
Before John knew what was happening Achilleus let fly at his head. His sledgehammer handle made contact and John went down heavily.
He didn’t get up again.
Everyone from both sides looked at his still body in amazement.
‘What you do that for?’ said the pirate.
‘I didn’t like him,’ said Achilleus. ‘He was getting on my tits. Now – you – Captain Jack Sparrow, what’s your name?’
‘Carl,’ said the pirate.
‘Well, Carl, you seem a little more reasonable. Are you going to talk to us, or do we trash your camp?’
A laugh went up from some of the palace crew. Carl looked round, unsure of himself. He was soon joined by several more of his friends, all armed and looking for a fight.
‘What’s there to talk about?’ he said, readying his machete.
‘Fair enough,’ said Achilleus.
‘Stop it,’ said Maxie. ‘We don’t want a fight.’
‘You shouldn’t have started one then, should you?’ said Carl. ‘Cos now you’re going to have to finish it.’
Pod and his team started up a chant. ‘Fight – fight – fight…’
Maxie felt the situation slipping away from her.
There was a bright flash and a few seconds later a vicious clap of thunder. Maxie hadn’t thought it could rain any harder, but it did. The rain came down as a steady solid force. It made it hard to think.
The chanting continued. More squatters appeared, carrying an odd assortment of weapons. They looked confused. The rain streaming down their faces.
‘Back off,’ said Carl, seeing he had more support. ‘Someone’s going to get hurt.’
Fight – fight – fight – fight – fight – fight – fight – fight…
Achilleus stood there, sledgehammer handle at the ready, standing over Just John.
‘Bring it on, pirate…’
Carl advanced towards John, hoping to help him up.
‘I guess you don’t want to talk,’ said Achilleus. ‘That’s good, cos neither do I.’
‘Stop,’ Maxie yelled. ‘Just stop!’
Fight – fight – fight – fight – fight – fight – fight – fight…
44
Freak was sitting on the steps of the Victoria Memorial, his chin resting on his knees, getting soaked.
He had a bad feeling in his guts.
What if any of them got hurt? What if Maxie got hurt, and he wasn’t there to help?
They’d all been through so much together. He should be with his friends. Maxie needed support. With nutters like Achilleus and Big Mick with them anything could happen.
And Jester, too. What did he have up his patchwork sleeve?
Freak got to his feet.
The sky flashed white with lightning. There was a long rippling crack and a deep boom. It sounded like World War bloody Three.
He started to walk.
He started to run.
Fight – fight – fight – fight – fight – fight – fight – fight…
It was on.
Achilleus ran at Carl, easily dodging a half-hearted swing from his machete. He ducked in and butted Carl in the guts with the end of his club. As Carl doubled over Achilleus brought his knee up and co
This gave Pod confidence and he and his gang charged forward with a shout. They grabbed a flimsy support holding up the roof of one of the shacks and pulled at it. It only took two or three heaves and the whole shack twisted and toppled sideways, spilling rainwater everywhere.
Pod’s team cheered.
‘Stop it!’ Maxie screamed but her voice was lost in the chaos.
The camp had come fully alive, and kids poured out of the shacks like angry wasps. All the palace squad were forced into the fight now and a messy brawl developed in the square. Fists and sticks were flying. The kids were kicking, gouging, wrestling. Not many of the squatters were armed and Achilleus and his fighters concentrated on those that were, trying to get their weapons off them without being hurt.
Freak was pounding along the walkway by the lake. He could hear the distant sounds of fighting.
‘Bollocks!’
He kept his eyes open for something he could use as a weapon. He had nothing with him.
‘Stupid!’
Some kid he didn’t recognize stepped out of the café as he passed.
‘Oi, what are you –’
Freak barged into him and sent him flying.
He raced on.
Blue was standing there, watching, not sure what to do.
‘We’ve got to stop this,’ said Maxie, shaking him.
‘How?’ said Blue.
‘Take charge,’ said Maxie. ‘Do something.’
Before they could say anything else, a group of squatters ran at them and Blue was forced to hack away at them with his pickaxe handle. A hail of shot and small rocks from Ollie’s squad rattled into the squatters’ legs and they fell back, hobbling and swearing.
Pod and his boys were moving from shack to shack, pushing them over. A fat girl ran out of one, shrieking.
‘What are you doing? What are you doing?’ she shouted. ‘There’s kids in there!’
Pod wavered, and the wail of a distressed baby came clearly from inside the building, which was rocking dangerously, ready to collapse. Pod’s team tried to steady it.
‘Idiots!’ Blue ran forward and ducked inside. He emerged a second later with a baby in his arms and almost chucked it at the girl. He was instantly back inside, and re-emerged with a second baby. He turned and went back in as the girl yelled that that was all of them.
He didn’t hear and the next moment the shack went down with a creaking, splintering sound. Pod and his team began to frantically pull aside sheets of plywood and corrugated iron, planks and boards and bits of plastic.
While everyone was distracted Maxie went to find Just John. He was stirring, trying to sit up, his lethal spear held limply in his hand. If she could take him out she might be able to stop this.
She had Arran’s club in her backpack. She’d been hoping not to use it, but she needed it now. She reached back for it and felt a terrific blow in her side. It took all her breath away and she felt like her ribs had been caved in. She staggered sideways, her vision blurred with the pain. Out of the corner of her eye she sensed a movement and turned to fend off another attack. The second blow caught her in the upper arm and she lost all feeling in it.
It was a squatter with a baseball bat. He wasn’t big but he had two others with him. One of them swung at her and she ducked, but it hurt like hell to move and she thought she might pass out. There was no way she was going to avoid the next swing.
Suddenly the three squatters went down like skittles.
It was Freak. He had barrelled into them full pelt. As they struggled to get up he grabbed a fallen bat and laid into them like a maniac.
Maxie was doubled over, fighting the pain and trying to draw some oxygen into her lungs.
Freak was making short work of his fight; one of the squatters ran off, another went down and didn’t look like he was getting up again. Freak was just about to finish off the last one when he yelled and sat down on the gravel. He looked confused. A bubble of saliva formed on his lips. There was an ugly patch of blood spreading across his back.