The Dead

They were all in the museum café, off to the side of the atrium, spread out among the tables. The place had been ransacked and no one at the museum had bothered to tidy up; there was litter everywhere.

The Brains Trust was sitting shivering at one table – Justin the nerd, Jibber-jabber, Wiki, Zohra and Froggie. Mad Matt was with Archie Bishop and the other kids from the chapel. There was an ugly black and red scab across Matt’s forehead where Greg’s ring had raked his skin. Brooke, Courtney and Aleisha sat in one corner, in a cloud of perfume and attitude. Chris Marker was by himself. He had inevitably gone back to reading his book, but the others viewed him differently after what he’d done to Greg on the bus. He wasn’t totally useless. Jack, Ed and Frédérique were at another table with Bam. Bam was the only one of the rugby players still alive, and he’d obviously been hit hard by Piers’ death. This was the first time anyone had seen him down and lacking his cheery optimism. Kwanele sat by himself, straight-backed and defiant.

While they’d been waiting in here Bam had been on at Ed and Kwanele non-stop about leaving Piers behind, and Ed had had enough.

‘Have any of you ever tried to carry someone who was unconscious?’ he asked. ‘People are heavy. Piers was heavy. Greg came after us and Piers’ body got caught on something. If I’d stayed any longer, Greg would have got me, and then the other sickos outside would have made it on to the bus and that would have been that. And why? Because you lot had all scarpered and left me to it. Thanks.’

Kwanele obviously thought Ed was referring to him.

‘Piers was badly wounded,’ he protested. ‘He probably would not have lived anyway, not without proper medicine, and doctors and things like that.’

‘So that’s it, is it?’ said Bam. ‘Like DogNut or whatever his name is out there said, look out for number one. If you’re hurt, forget it.’

‘It wasn’t just Kwanele,’ Ed shouted. ‘You all left me behind.’

‘We were fighting off sickos,’ said Bam. ‘I was trying to get everyone to safety.’

‘Exactly,’ said Ed. ‘We’ve all got excuses.’

There was a long silence before Bam spoke.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘Maybe we were all to blame. It happened too fast.’

‘It’s basic survival now,’ said Ed. ‘Getting from one day to another. This place is well defended, standing alone, with open ground all around, and it’s stuffed full of weapons. It would be a perfect place to set up camp. But someone else got here first and we can’t expect them to look after us.’

‘I don’t want to stay here anyway,’ said Jack. ‘I want to get home.’

‘Then why the hell were you arguing so much with Jordan bloody Hordern?’

‘He wound me up,’ said Jack. ‘I don’t like anyone talking to me like that.’

‘I don’t want to stay here, either,’ said Matt. ‘I need to carry on to St Paul’s. It’s been ordained that –’

‘Give it a rest, Matt,’ said Ed. ‘We’re fed up of hearing about your bloody made-up religion.’

‘It’s not made up.’

‘Yes it is. Nothing has been ordained. It’s all come out of your head.’

‘And what about this, then?’ said Matt, angrily tapping his forehead.

‘What about what?’

‘The mark of the Lamb.’

‘It’s a scab, Matt.’

‘It’s the mark of the Lamb.’

Ed laughed harshly, using his laughter like a weapon.

‘It doesn’t matter whether you believe us, anyway,’ said Archie Bishop. ‘We want to carry on to St Paul’s. With or without you lot – it doesn’t make any difference.’

‘Doesn’t make any difference?’ Ed scoffed. ‘You’ll be murdered out there by yourselves.’

‘The Lamb will protect us.’

There were groans from the other tables and people started throwing things at Matt. Old discarded coffee cups, screwed-up paper, empty cigarette packets.

Matt tried not to react, as if he was above it all, but they could tell he was getting riled.

‘What does anyone else want to do?’ Ed asked when things had calmed down a little.

‘We want to stay with you,’ said Wiki. ‘We’ll go wherever you say you want to go. If we keep together, it’ll be safer. Like when fish form into shoals. Even though they’re a bigger target, individually they’re safer, and harder for predators to focus on. The chances of being picked out from a big swirling mass are less than if they’re swimming alone.’

‘Thank you, David Attenborough,’ said Jack, trying to cut him off.

‘We could find another building to shelter in,’ said Jibber-jabber. ‘There’s loads of places near the museum, I came here once with my dad, we had to park miles away and walk, there’s all sorts of houses, I bet if we explored we could find something great, we don’t need to stay here, I don’t like Jordan Hordern or any of them, actually, although I liked the look of that game they were playing, I like toy soldiers, at home I’ve got hundreds, and now we’ve got our own gun and maybe they’ll let us have some weapons from the museum, we could be like a commando squad, you’re good fighters and –’

‘Not all of us,’ said Bam darkly, looking at Kwanele.

‘I never said I was a fighter,’ Kwanele protested.

‘I thought we weren’t going to go on about that.’ Ed sounded tired and fed up.

‘Sorry.’ Bam bowed his head.

Frédérique suddenly let out a sob and collapsed face down on the tabletop, crying. Jack and Ed both put a hand on her, trying to comfort her. She was tugging at her hair, hysterical.

‘What’s the matter with her?’ said Brooke snottily, and Aleisha jabbed her with an elbow.

‘What?’ said Brooke. ‘I only asked what was the matter.’

‘What do you think?’ said Ed. ‘If we weren’t all trying so hard to act tough, we’d all be face down on the table crying like babies. Because that’s all we are. Just babies. This is all too much for any of us to handle.’

‘I ain’t crying,’ said Brooke. ‘I ain’t giving up.’

Jack clapped sarcastically. ‘Well done, you.’

‘It’s stupid,’ said Frédérique. ‘We are all going to die. What’s the point of all this talking? Why must we argue?’ She raised her head. Her face was blotchy and streaked with tears. ‘Why do we need to find somewhere safe? Why do we need to do anything? We are all going to die. I thought there was some hope. Greg was not ill. I thought if just one adult was not ill there was hope for us. But he is ill, and there is no hope …’

Frédérique was crying so much she started to choke, and she crumpled down again, weeping, choking, coughing and spluttering.

‘Cheery soul, ain’t she?’ said Brooke, and Aleisha elbowed her again.

The big glass door opened and DogNut came in.

‘OK, listen up,’ he said, clapping his hands together. ‘Jordan Hordern’s made a decision.’ He pointed at Ed. ‘You, wossyourname …’

‘Ed.’

‘OK, Ed my man, you go and talk to the general. He’s waiting for you. Chop-chop. The rest of you, chillax.’

31

Ed and Jordan Hordern were sitting side by side in the front seats of a Second World War Jeep, looking out across the atrium. It was cold and the thin winter light that made its way through the massive arched glass ceiling did little to lift the gloom. Jordan had given Ed a furry blanket that he’d wrapped tightly about his body.

‘You mustn’t take any of this personally,’ Jordan was saying, staring straight ahead without looking at Ed.

‘I don’t,’ Ed replied. ‘I know where you’re coming from.’

‘Good. I don’t hate any of you. But I have to look after my people.’

‘It’s cool. So you’re booting us out?’

‘Not necessarily. Like I said, we don’t have enough food here to support any more people. But there’s a simple answer. I’ll let you take any weapons you want. There’s way too many for us to use. And I’ll let you stay here …’