Breakdown (3 page)

Maybe it's the danger, maybe it's the fight in me, but I won't die. If a pack of dogs can't take me out, they won't.

I cough, but I straighten up and drag Nan's sopping coat around me. They make straight for us, surround us, firebrands burning.

‘Nice one, Tarquin,' says their leader.

Tarquin, not Quinny.

That leader's got to be Careem. Long black coat, full grown – not like Tarquin – about thirty and mean, like a back-street dog, and just as scarred. One side of his face like a meteorite blasted it.

‘Boss,' says Tarquin.

Lenny hangs back, goes quiet. He hides behind his brother, clings on to him like he's tomorrow.

‘Details?' says Careem.

‘We  … ' starts Tarquin, then corrects himself, shoves Lenny's fingers away from his arm. ‘I found her crawling out the river.'

You liar
, I think.
You hauled me out. You didn't find me crawling anywhere. I was gone. I was in the green hollow.

Careem motions with a finger. Two of his gang stroll forward and push me. I kick them.

‘Sparky, too,' says Careem.

‘Good shoes,' says one of them. He pulls at Nan's coat. ‘Coat's OK, bit wet.'

They laugh.

‘Take off the shoes,' says Careem.

I think of Nan down by the wharf, clutching our last book of coupons, waiting for the boaters. I think of her hurrying home, the light fading, her not seeing so well. I think of her falling all alone on the street.

Her brittle bones.

I think of that.

‘I'm not giving anybody these shoes.'

‘Please give him your shoes,' whispers Lenny.

‘No,' I say. I don't care. I don't care if they throw me back in the river. I don't care if they break my legs and leave me for the dogs. I don't care. Nan wanted me to have these shoes. And now she's dead.

I look Careem straight in the eye. And my will is stronger. Stronger than any stick or blade or heat these gangers carry.

And Lenny sees it, and Tarquin sees it.

And Careem sees it.

‘No.' I shake my head.

There's a hush. A dry, stuffy laugh. They look at Careem.

And he's puzzled. He's looking at me, like he's thinking up just the right thing to say, something to show everyone that no soaked girl, pulled out of no stinking river, can out-spark him. He's thinking and he's timing it, so that whatever comes out keeps him on top.

They're all waiting.

‘I know where you can get better ones,' I say at last. I let that sink in. I bite my tongue, so I don't rush on. Nan told me: ‘I survived this long, because of one rule. Grow tough – tougher than everything – and talk less.'

‘And not too far.' I point at a sign.
WESTMINSTER 3 miles.

I let that sink in.

‘And enough for you all,' I finish.

Careem doesn't jump. He knows the rule too. He lets someone else do that.

‘Yeah?' says one of them. ‘Where?'

‘Like I'll tell
you
,' I say.

That annoys him. ‘You will,' he says, all menace.

‘Not.' I mean it. They know I do.

‘What d'we do?' says the ganger. He looks at Careem.

I've got to play this my way, or I really will end up as dog bait or back in that stinking river.

‘I'll tell him.' I point at Tarquin.

Tarquin frowns.

‘Yes,' says Lenny, then shuts up.

‘And I'll only tell him if you leave me an' my stuff alone.'

They don't know what to do. I look up at Tarquin and say, ‘Dog's Law. I'm your spoil, aren't I? That's right, you know it.'

Everyone knows it. Dog's Law: finders keepers. Since the bombings everyone's been finding and keeping.

But I'm not sure it applies to Careem.

Tarquin pulls a face. I see Lenny slip his hand under Tarquin's arm again.

Tarquin steps back and nods a bit. He shrugs. ‘Yep, I found her, I guess.'

Careem watches. This way he doesn't have to do anything about me. So he nods as well, all too big-shot to be challenged by any street find. He crosses over to me, grabs my hair, hauls my face up to his.

For a moment I look into his eyes. For a moment I think he is going to snap my neck. For a moment all my swagger is gone.

Then he laughs. ‘Some looker, ain't she!'

He sweeps my damp hair back from my face, lets out a low whistle. ‘Woo, even dripping like a skunk, she's got the boom,' he says.

The rest of the pack snigger.

‘It's your call,' announces Careem. ‘Dog's Law applies. You found her. If you wanna go for the shoes that's OK by me.' Careem nods, somehow pleased. ‘I get the haul of shoes. I get to trade them. You get to take her back and have her for the rest of tonight.' He laughs. ‘After that I've got something else in mind.'

I can see Lenny really tugging on Tarquin's arm now. I can see his small upturned eyes.

‘And no bruises, and make sure I'm happy when I see the shoes.' An unspoken ‘or else' lingers in the air.

Tarquin jerks his head. It could mean anything. I guess it means he'll go for the shoes.

I don't feel anything screwing over the boat people.

‘I'll keep her,' says Tarquin. ‘Lenny needs shoes.'

‘You got till tomorrow then,' says Careem with a wave of his hand. ‘Kaylem and Nailey – stay with them and make sure that girl don't go nowhere.' And with that he turns. Two of the gang remain. The rest of the pack starts banging tin pans again. Then they're gone.

I sink back down onto the pavement.

Tarquin starts on Lenny. ‘Don't do that.' He shakes Lenny's hand off his jacket.

‘OK.'

‘Nothing's OK,' says Tarquin.

‘You said we could keep her and we did,' says Lenny, smiling.

Tarquin shakes his head.

Kaylem and Nailey laugh.

I look around.
What are my chances?

‘We can't keep her, Len. Even if we get the shoes, even if everyone's happy. It's only for tonight. That's all.'

‘No,' says Lenny. ‘You said.'

‘Well, it was a promise I can't keep.'

And I can see from the slump of his shoulders that he isn't just saying that because Kaylem and Nailey are there.

I can stand up.

‘So walk,' says Tarquin.

I take a few steps. The coughing starts again. The coat's too heavy. I try to wring water out of it. I should take it off and leave it. But I'm not going to. I catch at a corner of the cloth and twist. I feel Nan's key on its plastic-photo key ring, still in the pocket. The key ring she got so long ago.

I can almost hear her telling me about it.

‘I was nine years old when I went to Scotland. We stayed in a tiny cottage in the mountains. There was a pond, a loch and hills all round. I bought this key ring in the local shop. It's not the same cottage, but just like it. I was so happy there. I promised myself I'd keep the key ring till the day I died.
'

A lump forms in my throat. My nose stuffs up. It's so cold.
Till the day I died.
My hands shake.

Don't think about Nan.
Not yet. Not now. Focus on staying upright. Focus on moving forward. Focus on getting away.

Lenny comes nearer. He slips his thin hand in mine. ‘It'll be OK, Miss. I won't let them hurt you,' he says, like he's the All Powerful.

‘That's good, then,' I whisper back.

That little hand in mine helps. We trail along behind Nailey and Kaylem. They turn to check on us. Kaylem is huge. He looks like he's been fighting dogs all his life and every bone in him is meaner than them. He takes in my trembling. ‘She's not going to give us no bother,' he says to Nailey and then he ignores me.

And I'm not. If I tried to make a run for it I wouldn't get far. But he's stupid to underestimate me. Just because I can't give him any bother right now, doesn't mean I'm never going to. Stay stupid, I think.

I take in everything – the cracked asphalt, the broken kerbs. When I get away, I'm going to need to know the route back.
Just focus on staying upright. Focus on getting strong. And notice everything. Get through these streets, cross these roads
.
Mark their names.
I look at the rows of houses. Some with little lights flickering through barred windows. One with a stone lion by the door. I look up at the sky. The dull iron-grey night.
I'm going to stay strong, Nan. You don't have to worry.

Soon we get more dogs. They're ready to attack. But Tarquin bangs his metal pan behind us. Kaylem and Nailey bang theirs up front. The dogs circle us for a while. Then they slink to the back, and follow.

Tarquin doesn't stay at the rear all the time. He catches up and falls behind and catches up again in a little pattern that he seems to know well. When the dogs try to close in, he bangs the pan really hard with a length of metal, right in their faces.

As more dogs appear, Kaylem picks up rocks, pieces of broken pavement. He throws them at the dogs. He's a pretty good shot. Nailey bangs the pan. The dogs whine and race off and regroup.

But there is a lot of dogs. And I'd have thought that when they get to critical mass they won't care about the rocks or the banging. They'll just come anyway. But I'm not sure. I'm not a ganger. And I'm not a dog. And those lengths of metal look scary.

Lenny squeezes my hand. He tugs at me. ‘I know you're tired, Miss, but you got to keep up. They won't try and get us if they know we ain't tired.'

‘OK,' I say.

I stumble on, down streets, round corners. It's so cold the coat starts to stiffen.

‘Knock it, Miss.'

Lenny thumps at the coat. It crackles slightly.

‘Keep knocking it. That'll stop it freezing.'

I'm shivering so much I can't even knock the coat. Lenny knocks at it for me. Tarquin bangs his pan. Kaylem and Nailey bang theirs.

When we're some way from the river, Tarquin falls into step with us. ‘Where're the shoes then?' he says.

‘On a boat.'

I don't care. Those traders always rip people off. They took all our coupons. They let Nan go off alone into the dusk. They knew the danger. They don't play by the rules, do they?

‘Where and when?' says Tarquin.

‘Docks under Tower Bridge.' Dog's Law works both ways.

‘Clever.'

I can't see what's clever about it. I think it's stupid. Running a shoe boat into London. Course someone's going to find you. Most black marketeers wouldn't dare. They knew the danger. Nobody's got any shoes these days. So they were set to make a killing, weren't they?

Their risk then.

‘How many on board?'

‘Don't know.'

‘They got knives?'

I look at him. He looks pretty handy, like he could deal with any number of stupid traders. I notice the shock of dark, matted hair flopping over one eye. If you combed that hair out or cut it back, he'd be OK. I don't know why I think that.

‘No matter,' he says.

An icy wind blows against me. I shiver. Nan's coat is so heavy. If he thought getting the shoes was going to be easy that's not my fault. An empty window rattles. A piece of broken, yellowing plastic blows down the street.

‘Len, you go with her.'

Lenny looks up and tries to hold on to him.

‘I won't be long.' Tarquin shakes him off.

‘Can't I go with you?'

‘Then who'll take care of her?'

Lenny doesn't answer.

‘Don't make me remind you of what I said down by the river.'

Tarquin calls out to the two others. ‘One of you wanna come help with the shoes?'

Nailey and Kaylem don't bother to reply.

‘I won't be long.'

‘The boaters always got knives,' I say.

Tarquin hands the stick and the tin pan to Lenny. ‘Drum me up some help,' he says.

At the next street he slips into the shadows and sprints off. At first the dogs don't notice he's gone. Then they do. One of them howls. A bunch of them look like they're going to follow. Lenny starts banging the tin pan. The banging seems to refocus their attention. They move back towards us, settle into the old rhythm, and we trudge on.

‘Soon be there,' says Lenny.

I'm so cold I hardly care.

‘An' I'll look after you till Quinny gets back.'

‘If he gets back,' I say.

‘It'll be OK,' says Lenny. ‘An' he'll bring the shoes.'

Shoes, I think – all this for shoes.

‘There you see, I'm always right,' says Lenny suddenly, pointing at something.

I look up.

And ahead of us, bang in the centre of an open wasteland, are the white walls of Games City.