The Dead

‘Keep calm and carry on,’ said Jack.

‘Exactly …’

‘And holiday at home.’

Ed laughed. ‘I prefer you when you’re like this,’ he said.

‘How do you mean?’ Jack shifted and propped himself up on one elbow.

‘Well, you know. This is like the old days, how things used to be. Us two just having a laugh. I’ve noticed with you, when things are safe, you know, quiet, like now, you’re cool, we get on all right, but as soon as we’re out there, in any danger, you get all aggressive and you start having a go at everyone, not just me. It’s like you turn, like you’re two different people.’

‘Oh right,’ said Jack, his voice harder, wary. ‘So I’m two-faced, am I?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘You mean like with my birthmark? I’m like a villain out of Batman, or something. Two-face?’

‘I didn’t say two-faced, Jack, did I? I just meant … Well, you’re doing it now. One minute you’re my best mate and the next you’re having a go at me. I’m not used to it.’

Jack slumped back on to his mattress with a grunt and stared at the ceiling.

‘I can’t help it, Ed,’ he said. ‘You’re right – it’s when I get stressed I lash out. It’s like I know I’m doing it, I don’t want to do it, but I can’t stop myself. I’m so knackered all the time and strung out. I could sleep for a year … But I can’t get to sleep.’

‘Let’s try, though, eh?’

‘Yeah, goodnight, Ed.’

‘Goodnight, Jack.’

35

It was morning. The rain had stopped, the clouds torn away by a strong cold wind from the south. The sun was shining and the glistening, silvery streets were drying out.

There were two flowerbeds underneath the twin naval guns in front of the museum. Frédérique was kneeling down on the grass next to one of them with her cat box next to her.

There was a big wide-bladed army knife sticking up out of the flowerbed like a tool. Frédérique looked like she might have been gardening, trying to sort out the tangle of overgrown plants. Except she was very still. Kneeling there with her hands by her chin, almost as if she was praying.

‘Frédérique?’

Jack had come out of the building and was coming down the steps. He was wearing his Russian helmet and his sword was dangling at his side. He walked between two yellow artillery shells embedded in the paving, like outsize bollards, sca

When he got to Frédérique, she didn’t look up.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I ca

‘Are you sure?’

‘She can find her own food, I think. Better than what I can give her. I have run out. The only problem is, she does not want to go.’

Jack squatted down and peered into the cage. Dior was flattened against the box at the far end, looking fearfully out, her eyes wide.

‘You should hurry,’ he said, straightening up. ‘The sickos can’t easily get into the park but if they spot us by ourselves they might just try.’

‘You go in, Jack. I am all right.’

‘I’m not go

‘Please …’ Frédérique sniffed, coughed and put a wad of tissues to her nose. She was crying again. Jack sighed. He didn’t know what to do or say to make things better.

‘Come back inside,’ he said. ‘We’ll find food for the cat.’

‘Leave me.’ She said it so forcefully, even angrily, that Jack backed away across the grass, leaving her alone with the cat.

He watched as she made little encouraging noises, cooing to the cat in French until at last it crept cautiously out, tiptoeing, and tensed. It looked around, making quick nervous movements with its head. Frédérique closed the cage and sat back on her heels. The cat made its way into the flowerbed. Frédérique coughed again and the cat darted away. In a moment it had disappeared. Frédérique stood up, head bowed, shoulders shaking. She dabbed her nose again with the tissues. Jack went to her and put his arm round her.

‘Come on, it’s cold out here. Admittedly it’s not much warmer inside, but you don’t want to get ill.’

Frédérique threw her arms round Jack and gave him a powerful hug. She had more strength in her than she looked. Jack hugged her back but he still didn’t know what to say.

Bam and Ed had now come out of the museum and were looking at Jack locked in his embrace with Frédérique.

‘Ah, young love!’ said Bam.

‘Touching, isn’t it?’ said Ed, and they laughed.

Jack broke away from Frédérique and came over to join them.

‘This is what we need to take on the sickos,’ he said as he passed the naval guns. ‘Bloody big ca

‘We’re not doing too badly with this lot.’ Ed brandished his rifle, the bayonet stuck firmly on the end.

‘We’ve got nothing to fear,’ said Bam, slipping two shells into his shotgun.

‘Maybe,’ said Jack. ‘But, still, I’d be happier if there were a few more of us.’

Even as he said it there was a commotion at the doors and Brooke came out, all in a fluster, carrying a long spiked club and whingeing back over her shoulder at someone behind her.

‘Get off my case, loserface, I never said I liked Justin Timberlake …’

She stopped when she saw the others and ski

Jack frowned at her. ‘What are you doing?’

‘What’s it look like? I’m helping. Didn’t want you to have all the fun, did I?’

‘This isn’t a game, Brooke,’ said Jack angrily.

‘What? And you think I don’t know that? We survived a long time on the road, me and my girls. Don’t think we can’t look after ourselves.’

‘Yeah but …’

‘Yeah but what? This is the twenty-first century, Jacko, or hadn’t you noticed? Girls have got a lot more to offer than just knitting and cooking and having babies.’

‘Making babies,’ said DogNut with a smirk. ‘Now you talking.’

Brooke spun round and slapped DogNut hard in the face. His head seemed to wobble like it was on a spring and he looked completely stu

Jack laughed.

‘I’ve had just about enough of you, you tosser,’ Brooke shouted. ‘Keep your big mouth shut or I will shove it so far down your throat you’ll be smiling out of your arse.’

‘Yeah, OK …’ DogNut mumbled, and Brooke turned her attention back to Jack.

‘I’ll admit I got freaked out on the bus, but I can handle it. You should have seen me whack Greg with that hammer thing. And now I got something better than a hammer.’ She swung the club and Jack had to jump back to avoid being spiked.

‘I figured if I’m not going to be scared I’ve got to stand up to them,’ Brooke went on. ‘This is how it is now and the quicker I get used to it the better.’

‘What about him?’ Jack nodded at DogNut, who still hadn’t fully recovered from being hit.

‘I can’t shake him off. He’s been tagging along behind me like a fart cloud all morning.’

‘You come to wave us off, have you, Donut?’ Jack asked.

‘Not Donut, DogNut.’

‘What kind of a name’s DogNut?’ Brooke asked with a withering look on her face.

‘It’s my gamer’s tag. See, like the dog’s nuts.’

‘So why ain’t you called Dognuts?’

‘Yeah, or Dogsnuts?’ said Bam.

‘DogNut sounds better,’ said DogNut.

‘You reckon?’ Brooke asked.

‘You still haven’t told me what you’re doing out here,’ said Jack.

‘I come to help, blood,’ said DogNut. ‘I’m pretty good in a mash-up, and I go mental being banged up in there. I need to get outside and feel the wind in my hair now and then, seen? So let’s bust some chops, eh? Hiyaa!’ He did a bad kung fu kick and Jack was forced to smile.