The Fear

She realized that she had slipped to the ground and was holding DogNut in her lap, her bloody hand gripping his jacket tightly.

The muscly kid came over to her, said something. She couldn’t understand the words. Her head was filled with a ringing sound. She tried to speak, but she didn’t think that anything came out.

The boy said something else and she thought that maybe he was saying that she was all right now, safe …

Safe …

A shadow fell across her and she heard another voice. Struggled to see who was speaking. She was feeling faint and distant, as if she was watching all this in a film about someone else. Shock was setting in. Turning her to stone. There was blood pouring down her face. She didn’t have the energy to wipe it away. The day was growing dark.

Another girl appeared, took some stuff out of a first-aid kit, said something to her, might as well have been speaking Chinese.

Chinese …

Brooke laughed.

Someone was easing DogNut out of her arms. She wanted to tell them not to hurt him. Then the flame-haired boy was back with some other people, so many of them … Who were they all?

They put her on to a kind of stretcher. Where had they got that from? She tried to thank them, but the words only seemed to form in her head.

As she was carried across the road towards the park, she looked for her friends. There was no sign of them or the dead bodies of the sickos. The road was clear. She must have dreamt it all. There hadn’t been a fight here …

That couldn’t be.

Her head hurt.

So much blood.

She closed her eyes and gave in to the darkness.

61

David was waiting in his office at the palace. It was a grand room with a marble fireplace, oil paintings on the walls and a large dark wooden table in the centre that David kept polished to a glass-like shine. Tall windows looked out over the gardens where children were busy working in the vegetable plots and he often stood gazing out at the activity, secretly smiling at how well he had done for himself. Here he was, in the queen of England’s old home. And everything he could see out there belonged to him. The lake full of fresh water, the food growing in the rich soil, the children themselves. When the disease had struck, it had felt like it was the end of the world, most children had fallen into a paralysing despair, many had been killed, or had died of disease and neglect and starvation. But not David. He had seen the whole thing as a massive opportunity. Here was a new world that he could take control over.

And why not? Children needed someone strong in charge. They didn’t have to like him, just as long as they did what they were told. He was keeping them alive, wasn’t he? Looking after them. Offering them a future. Once the hard part was over, once the last rotten, diseased adult had been hunted down and exterminated, they could do whatever they wanted. London was theirs. England. The whole planet. Theirs for the taking.

David saw himself as an entrepreneur. He’d always enjoyed watching The Apprentice, and had dreamt of going on it when he was older. Well, now he didn’t have to be an apprentice. He was the boss, wasn’t he? He was Lord Sugar.

There was still a lot of work to be done, though. He knew that. Until every kid in the area recognized his authority he couldn’t relax. Hopefully his meeting this morning would lift him another step up the ladder.

He walked over to the mirror that hung above the fireplace and checked his appearance. His mother had always told him that appearances were important. First impressions. He needed to look like the boss, with an air of authority. He smiled at what he saw.

His mother would have been proud.

He was wearing a suit and tie. His dark hair was neatly cut and combed to the side. His pale, freckled skin was clear and spot-free. Not like some kids out there who looked almost as bad as the pustule-covered grown-ups. He was only fourteen, but had the ma

He liked what he saw.

Even so, he patted his hair flatter and fussed over his tie knot. He had to admit he was slightly nervous. This meeting meant a lot to him; it wasn’t just about power and business. There was more to it than that. He had other plans, and he’d started to put them together the first time he’d met her.

Nicola. The girl from the Houses of Parliament, the one who called herself prime minister. She could call herself whatever she wanted as far as he was concerned. It was just a name. She wasn’t in charge of anything except her own scrawny little bunch of kids. Even after she agreed to everything, which he was fairly confident she would – hadn’t she asked for this meeting? Yes, even afterwards, he would let her keep the title. Let her think whatever she wanted to think. Let her pretend to be in charge.

Nicola. He wished he didn’t feel so fluttery. But there was something about her …

He turned away from the mirror. Embarrassed. Unable to hold his own gaze any longer.

He knew what that something was. She was pretty. Beautiful, really. With her long red hair and her green eyes.

A princess.

That was how he thought of her. Royalty. He pictured the two of them, side by side, king and queen. Their two worlds united. The two of them united. Like Kate and Will.

He blushed. He was getting ahead of himself.

That wouldn’t do. He had to maintain his self-control. Not get carried away. The business deal was the important thing to get sorted today. The rest of it? Well, with any luck that would follow, but he mustn’t let it get in the way of their negotiations.

He had no idea what she thought about him. He wasn’t bad-looking, not film-star material, but not ugly. His freckles were a

And girls went for those types.

Didn’t they?

He was pretty sure they did. Although his own experience of girls was fairly narrow. He had no brothers or sisters and had gone to an all-boys school. That was why he was nervous. He didn’t want to behave like a fool around her and give himself away. He wanted to come across as grown up. In control.

He was aware, though, that there was a special power that girls had. It was nothing to do with strength, or cleverness, or authority. It was to do with …

He was blushing again. He poured himself a glass of water from the cut-glass carafe he had carefully placed on a silver tray that sat on the gleaming table top.

There was a knock on the door and he moved to the fireplace, stood in the pose he had rehearsed, copied from one of the paintings at the palace, showing some general or other posing with all his medals and honours. Legs apart, chest out, hands behind his back, a superior half smile on his lips.

‘Yes?’ Dammit. He’d wanted his voice to sound deep and manly, and it came out strained and pinched, sounding to his ears almost like a squeak.

‘She’s here, David.’

‘Bring her in.’

The door opened and Pod, his chief of security, came in with Nicola.

She was as beautiful as he remembered. And she was wearing a long green dress that matched her eyes. That pleased him. He didn’t like girls to wear jeans, unless they were working. In his opinion girls should look smart and feminine …

No. Don’t think like that. You’ll start blushing again, you idiot. Be businesslike.

‘Hello, Nicola,’ he said, pleased that his voice had settled down. It came out sounding much more relaxed. ‘Come in. How are you?’