The Dead

‘That’s how I feel,’ said Ed. ‘Guilty.’

Jack turned away. ‘I didn’t mean anything by what I was saying, Ed.’

‘I know you think I’ve been a coward, and maybe I have but …’

‘I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean it.’

‘Yes, you did. And I understand why you said it. But … I can’t fight, Jack. I can do everything else but I can’t fight. In a way Greg’s right. Nothing in my life has made me ready for all this.’

‘But that’s exactly what I’m saying.’ Jack was trying not to raise his voice. ‘Nothing you did could have prepared you for this. You could have left school at sixteen like Greg did and trained as an, I don’t know, a plumber, or an electrician, what difference would it have made? Look at the Sullivan brothers – they were big tough guys. They were both boxers. They both did a shed-load of sports and now they’re both dead. But two little wimps like Wiki and Jibber-jabber both made it through. What skills do they have that the Sullivans didn’t? None. They were just luckier. That’s all.’

At the front of the bus Greg was struggling into his coat. He zipped it up, pulled a torch from the pocket and went over to Liam, who was sitting with the Brains Trust.

‘I’m just going outside to have a fag and give the bus a once-over. Check the tyres and that.’

‘Dad …’

‘It’s all right, Liam.’ Greg smiled. ‘Nothing’s go

He winked at Liam and climbed down off the bus into the rain.

‘He’s wrong, you know,’ Justin the nerd said to Liam and the other younger kids when Greg was gone. He’d obviously come to the same conclusion as Jack. ‘It’s not all about trapping rabbits and ski

‘But we do still need fighters,’ said Froggie.

‘Yes, of course we do,’ Justin went on. ‘But you can’t just have a society of warriors. What are they going to eat? Where are they going to live? What clothes are they going to wear? You need some fighters for protection, yes, but it’ll be like any functioning society, you’ll also need farmers to grow food, scientists and engineers and doctors to make things and to keep you healthy, you’re going to need artists, musicians and actors to entertain people.’

‘Jugglers,’ said Jibber-jabber.

‘Jugglers? We won’t need jugglers.’

‘But they’re entertaining. I like jugglers.’

‘Well, learn to juggle, then,’ said Justin, ‘and you can entertain us all.’

‘Maybe I will.’

‘What about clowns?’ said Froggie. ‘Will we need clowns?’

‘We’ll certainly need people to make us laugh,’ said Justin. ‘Now more than ever. But the thing is, we need lots of different people with lots of different skills. That’s how we can survive, and why we’ll defeat the sickos, because we’re cleverer than they are, and we can build a society, but they can’t. They will eventually die out. They must, because they can never be anything more than dumb animals. That’s mankind’s greatest weapon – our brains. There are ca

‘Lots of ca

Liam was staring at Wiki with wide eyes. ‘Is it safe to eat other bits of humans?’ he asked quietly.

‘Well, it’s not a very good idea,’ said Wiki. ‘We’re full of diseases. Most farm animals are given injections and drugs and they’re specially bred to be healthy. Most humans are really unhealthy. We’re walking bags of disease and germs. Compared to the average cow, anyway.’

‘But could you die if you ate someone?’

‘Probably not. I don’t really know. You’d have to avoid the brains to be sure.’

‘The sickos eat people,’ said Jibber-jabber. ‘And look at them. They’re in a terrible state.’

‘But they were in a terrible state already,’ said Justin. ‘They were already sick, that’s why they eat people, not the other way round.’

‘Why are you so interested, anyway?’ Jibber-jabber asked Liam. ‘Are you thinking of eating someone?’

‘No. I never would. That’s why …’

‘That’s why what?’

‘Nothing. But, Dad, you see … I don’t know for sure … But the smoked meat …’

‘Are you trying to say your dad’s eaten someone?’ said Jibber-jabber in a whisper. ‘That’s gross.’

‘No. I don’t know. I hope not. But … The adults and the older kids, on the farm, they all got sick … but Little Paul, he …’

Liam stopped as Greg got back on to the bus and took off his soggy coat. They could feel heat radiating off him, and he smelt ripe and meaty. They none of them smelt great, but Greg was the worst. He put the coat on the back of his seat and joined the boys. He seemed to fill all the space around them, a featureless black shape.

‘You lot need to settle down and go to sleep,’ he said. ‘Stop your yacking. You’re disturbing everyone else.’

‘Sorry,’ said Wiki.

‘And, Liam?’

‘Yes, Dad?’

‘You come and sit with me, son, back here. You need to get a proper night’s rest. You was always the same when you had a sleepover. The other kids’d keep you up and you’d be useless the next day.’

Liam didn’t like to point out that his dad had only ever let him have one sleepover.

‘OK,’ he said, and got up out of his seat.

The others all said goodnight and he went with his dad to a quieter section of the coach where they snuggled down next to each other. Greg tucked a blanket round Liam and slipped an arm across his shoulders, giving him a squeeze.

‘That’s better, isn’t it?’ he said, and started to cough, bent over, his whole body shaking, still holding Liam tight.

‘Are you all right, Dad?’

‘Course I’m all right. It’s the dry air on this bus. I wish we didn’t have to have the heater on all the time. It dries me throat out, but if I turn it down the girls get cold. No, I’m fine.’

‘Good. I don’t want you to get ill, Dad.’

‘Hey, hey, hey, that’s enough of that. I’m the one supposed to be looking after you, remember. Not the other way round. Now, that’s enough chat. You just need to get some sleep.’

‘I don’t know if I can, Dad. I’m scared.’

‘Don’t be scared. Nothing’s go

‘But what’s going to happen to us, Dad? When we get to Islington? I’ve always just been thinking “let’s get home”, but what then? What are we going to do?’

Greg was about to say something when he was gripped by another attack of coughing. Afterwards he held Liam even tighter. His body felt hot and damp and he was sweating buckets.

Greg had always told him that there wasn’t a god, but Liam prayed now.

Please let him be all right …

At the back of the bus Courtney and Aleisha were asleep, but Brooke was wide awake. Staring out at a London that lay black and mysterious under the starless sky. She felt like she’d been on this coach forever, and she never wanted to leave it. She could live on here quite happily till the end of her life, eating crisps and sweets. Safe. They had a loo. They had water. They could be like gypsies.

Except they’d grow fat and stinky, the water would run out, the loo would overflow, they’d fight over the last packet of crisps …

Stop it, Brooke. Don’t think like that.

She wished she could sleep. She didn’t like it when she was left alone like this. She needed the constant noise and distraction of her friends. She didn’t want to think about anything.

She loved her friends. As long as they were all together they were invincible. Too invincible sometimes. When she felt untouchable, she often went too far. She wished she didn’t say such harsh things all over the place. But she didn’t like anyone to get too close. She kept intruders out with sarcasm and insults and ragging. She wished she didn’t do it, didn’t try to own everyone she met. She did it without thinking, without really meaning to, even if she liked someone. Like the boys they’d picked up. Some of them seemed OK. All right, they were a bit posh, but you couldn’t be too picky these days. Ed was nice, fit-looking, Jack was OK – if he didn’t have that butters red thing on his face she could have quite fancied him. For sure he was a bit moody, but she quite liked that in a boy. Sometimes the easy happy ones could be well boring. Maybe Ed was boring? She didn’t know; she’d kept him away with her big mouth. She’d kept them both away.