The Enemy

He didn’t like it here. The glass walls of the towers that loomed on either side reflected each other back at themselves. It was like a city designed by a madman. The scale was all wrong and none of the buildings matched. There would be an old church right next to an office block made of metal that looked like a giant engine. Everywhere there were abandoned building sites, some little more than deep holes in the ground, others home to the steel skeletons of office blocks that would now never be finished. Cranes stood over them, and the boys had seen three that had fallen, smashing into the buildings next to them.

‘Shall we try again?’ said The Kid.

‘OK.’

They got up stiffly and set off, trying a new route.

‘We need to keep our eyes peeled like spuds, Frodo,’ said The Kid.

‘It’s Sam,’ said Sam tetchily.

‘Oh yeah, sorry, I knew it was one of them hobbits.’

‘And besides,’ said Sam. ‘You don’t have to tell me to look out. I can look after myself. I’ve survived on the streets all by myself.’

‘Not these streets,’ said The Kid.

‘They’re all the same,’ said Sam.

‘Not so,’ said The Kid. ‘You never know what you’re going to find round here. This part of London is bare weird. Things happened differently here to how they did everywhere elsewhere, I reckon. That’s why your bully-butcher friends down below didn’t become sickos. This is an old place. There’s some kind of special magic here. Some old power, from the dark days, the storybook time, maybe even before Caesar and his Romans came, eh?’

‘I don’t believe in magic,’ said Sam.

‘I believe in everything, titch,’ said The Kid.

‘Don’t call me “titch”. You’re not much bigger than me.’

‘I know I ain’t, but you’re still small, buster-boy. You’re a right tiddler.’

‘I’m a giant killer.’

‘I can believe it. As I say, I believe everything, shrimp.’

‘Don’t call me that,’ said Sam. ‘Or I’ll call you rat-boy.’

‘Midget.’

‘Tree frog.’

‘Crumb.’

‘Scab.’

‘Plankton.’

‘Poo-poo head.’

‘Poo-poo head?’

‘Yeah,’ said Sam, giggling, ‘that’s what you are. You stink.’

‘Not as bad as you, pipsqueak.’

‘No, you smell worse, you smelly sock.’

‘Don’t you call me a smelly sock, you hairy yellow vetch.’

‘Rat-boy, rat-boy!’

‘Squirt.’

‘Arsehole.’

‘Hold up.’ The Kid tensed and went into a crouch. He was looking intently down the street, like a hunting dog. Sam looked in the same direction.

It was another group of grown-ups. The third they’d seen since they’d been up here.

‘We need to be somewhere else, microbe,’ said The Kid.

‘You’re a microbe, you sod,’ Sam muttered wearily as they turned and ran.

53

Achilleus was sitting alone in the palace kitchen eating a big bowl of spaghetti with tomato sauce. It was warm in here and quiet. He wanted a little time to himself before the fight, to get his act together. He was loading up on carbs. Like a ru

There was a knock on the door and he glanced up from his bowl.

It was Jester. He was carrying a small round shield.

‘I’ve been looking for you,’ he said, coming into the kitchen.

‘You’ve found me.’

‘Yeah.’ Jester dropped the shield on the table with a clatter.

‘Thought this might be useful,’ he said. ‘It’s ceremonial, really, but it’ll be better than nothing.’

Achilleus got up from the table and picked up the shield. It was made of lightweight steel backed with wood and leather. He slipped his arm through the strap and held on to the grip.

‘Yeah,’ he said, experimenting, moving his arm, raising and lowering the shield. ‘Feels good. I could have done with one of these before.’

Jester sat down.

‘You really think you can win?’

‘I gotta think that, dog, or I ain’t got no chance.’

‘I could see if I could find you a piece of armour, or something,’ said Jester.

‘Nah,’ said Achilleus, taking the shield off and returning to his di

He had changed into a fighting outfit. Sweat top and trousers. Trainers. A marked contrast to Jester in his patchwork coat.

What was with that coat anyway? He’d been meaning to ask, and now might be his last chance to find out.

‘Tell me something, Mister Magic,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘David goes round in that nasty suit, everyone else here is kind of straight, like they’re all at public school, or something. But not you, you wear that tatty old coat. What’s that all about?’

‘I used to live in Notting Hill,’ said Jester. ‘West London.’

‘Posh.’

‘I suppose so. Anyway, when it happened, what you call the disaster –’

‘Ain’t it that? What do you call it?’

‘I don’t call it anything,’ said Jester. ‘It’s what it is. It happened. So, as I was saying, I ended up in this big house. Massive place. With a load of other kids. Mostly mates to start with, but more and more joined us. It was easy back then. There were loads of big houses round there. A lot of rich people. They’d hoarded stuff like you wouldn’t believe. It was rich pickings at first. We thought we had it made. But then…’

‘Grown-ups.’

‘Grown-ups. Bad ones. And a lot of them. We didn’t have anyone like you, Akkie. We didn’t stand a chance. There was a girl with us, Persephone.’

‘Greek name.’

‘I suppose so. But anyway, the first of us to get it was her sister. We divided her things up among us. But Persephone, she took one of her sister’s party dresses, her favourite, and cut a patch from it. Sewed it on to a piece of cloth. To remember her. Then every time another kid died, Persephone made a patch from their clothes. Made a sort of quilt. She showed me how to do it. You know what it was like, there wasn’t much to do to pass the time. And when Persephone was killed I added her patch. Kept the cloth. In the end we had to leave Notting Hill, it got too bad. Headed into town where it was quieter. Some of us died on the way. But not everyone. Rose was with us. One or two others in the palace. And when we got here I made the quilt into this coat. To carry those dead kids with me. You know how many patches there are on here?’

‘How many?’

‘Forty-three. No, forty-four. I added Freak today.’

He showed Achilleus a fresh patch.

‘And this one here is Arran.’

‘You took his shirt?’

‘He didn’t need it any more.’

‘You’re deep, man,’ said Achilleus. ‘Well deep. You happy to let David boss you around?’

‘Are you?’ said Jester.

‘As long as I got something to eat, somewhere dry to sleep, I’m OK. I don’t want to be no boss. Too much to think about. But you… do you even like David?’

‘He’s bonkers,’ said Jester. ‘Gets nuttier every day. But it kind of works. For now. He’s fifteen, you know? Quite old.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. I sometimes wonder if that’s what’s making him the way he is. I watch him all the time for any signs – you know, boils and that. Nothing yet. We none of us know what’s going to happen as we get older…’

‘Don’t like to think about that stuff, man,’ said Achilleus. ‘Don’t like to talk about it.’

‘No. I’m sorry.’ Jester paused. Studied Achilleus. Then went on. ‘If you win tonight, Akkie, you’re going to be in a very strong position, you know. I don’t know if David understands that. You could topple him if you wanted.’

‘Told you, Magic-Man, don’t want to be no boss.’

‘No,’ said Jester. ‘But you and me. We’d make a very good team.’