CHERUB: The Recruit (31 page)

‘Oh, god,’ Amy said. ‘It’s obvious now you say it. Bungle was a microbiology professor. Fire and World studied biology at university. They’d know all about that stuff.’

‘It all fell into place at once,’ Ewart said. ‘The best way to spread a disease through a large building is the air-conditioning. I checked out the van Amy saw. It belongs to a man who services the air-conditioning at Green Brooke. Then there was the folder with the RKM logo in Bungle’s hut. I thought it was a computer manual, but RKM also make air conditioners.’

‘What is it?’ Amy asked.

‘The police haven’t analysed the cylinders,’ Ewart said. ‘But anthrax is most likely.’

‘Jesus,’ Amy said.

‘I don’t understand half what you two are on about,’ James said. ‘Can one of you speak to me in English?’

‘Do you know what anthrax is, James?’ Ewart asked.

‘No idea, but I’m guessing it’s not good and you think I’ve got it.’

‘Anthrax is a unique disease. Most diseases can only survive outside your body for about eight minutes,’ Ewart explained. ‘Anthrax can survive in almost any temperature for up to sixty years. That makes it easy to store and use as a weapon. A cupful of anthrax spores in the air could kill hundreds of people.’

‘How did I get it?’ James asked.

‘You might not have it,’ Ewart said. ‘The antibiotics are a precaution. Remember the bright orange box under the bench in the underground workshop?’

‘Yeah,’ James said.

‘It’s a sealed disposal unit for toxic waste. You’re supposed to incinerate it in a two-thousand-degree furnace.’

‘I pulled the lid off and stuck my hand inside,’ James said.

‘Unfortunately you did,’ Ewart said. ‘I’ve got a picture you took of the contents. Gave me a heart attack when I saw it. Looks like the gloves and face masks they used when they were handling the anthrax bacteria ended up in there.’

‘Could I die?’ James asked.

‘I’ve got to be honest, James. If you breathed the bacteria you’re in trouble. Even with the antibiotics we’ve given you there’s a fifty per cent death rate.’

‘Could I have given it to Amy or anyone?’ James asked.

‘It’s possible some bacteria stuck on your fingers, but the disease is only serious if you breathe thousands of spores. They’ll check out Amy at the hospital to be safe.’

‘If I die,’ James asked, ‘how long will it take?’

‘It starts off like the flu about a day after infection. Most people die within nine days.’

‘What hospital are we driving to?’ Amy asked.

‘There’s a military hospital near Bristol, about seventy kilometres away,’ Ewart said. ‘They’ve got a doctor flying in from Manchester. He knows as much about anthrax as anyone on the planet.’

*

Four nurses in army uniform grabbed James out of the car and stuck him on a trolley, even though he could walk. They burst through doors. Lights on the ceiling whizzed by. James spotted Meryl Spencer and Mac running behind the trolley. They had flown from CHERUB by helicopter.

The nurses wheeled James into a huge ward. There were thirty beds in three rows, all empty. A male nurse pulled James’ trainers and socks off, then grabbed his jeans and boxers down in one. James was embarrassed because Amy, Ewart, Meryl and everyone were standing around watching. Once James was naked they lifted him on to a bed.

‘Hello, James. I’m Doctor Coen.’

The doctor looked like he’d been dragged out of bed. He wore Nikes, jogging bottoms and a shirt with the buttons done up in the wrong holes.

‘Has the disease been explained to you?’ the doctor asked.

‘Mostly,’ James said. ‘Do I need thirty people standing around looking at me naked?’

Dr Coen smiled. ‘You heard the patient.’

Everyone but three nurses and a couple of doctors headed out. Dr Coen continued:

‘First we need to take blood samples and see if you’ve been infected with anthrax. However, if you have the disease your chances of survival decrease with every minute treatment is delayed, so we’re going to assume the worst and begin treatment now. A nurse will fix a tube into your arm. We’re going to pump you with a mixture of antibiotics and other drugs. Some of the drugs are toxic. Your body will react violently. You can expect vomiting and fever.’

*

Amy and Meryl stayed by James’ bed. He started feeling weak and shaky a couple of hours after treatment started. His face went pale and he asked for something to throw up in.

Amy went outside looking upset. Meryl gripped his hand.

It got worse in the hours that followed. James’ stomach and ribcage felt like they were tearing apart. The tiniest movement, even a deep breath or a cough, made his vision blur and a wave of nausea shoot up from his stomach. The two Army nurses wiped up every time he got sick. When he got really bad they injected him with anti-vomiting drugs.

The wait for test results was unbearable. James wanted to pass out or fall asleep. He watched the door, silently praying for Dr Coen to come back with good news. James wondered if this room might be the last thing he ever saw.

*

Doctor Coen didn’t come back until 8 a.m. on Thursday.

‘It’s bad,’ Dr Coen said. ‘We just got the results from your tests. We’ll keep giving you the drugs.’

James woke up. He’d been in the hospital thirty hours. A drip ran up his nose and down into his stomach. Meryl had stayed the whole time.

‘How do you feel?’ Meryl asked.

‘Weak,’ James croaked; the tube down his throat made it hard to speak.

‘The doctor says the level of bacteria in your system is going down. The antibiotics are working.’

‘What are my chances?’ James asked.

‘Dr Coen said over eighty per cent because the treatment started so early.’

‘I feel so rough I wish I was dead.’

‘Lauren’s here,’ Meryl said.

‘Is she OK?’

Meryl shrugged. ‘Pretty shook up. She waited all day for you to come around. She’s sleeping upstairs.’

‘Me dying, after Mum and that,’ James said. ‘She’ll be in a right state.’

Meryl stroked the back of James’ hand.

‘You won’t die,’ she said. ‘Fort Harmony has been in all the papers. Headline news.’

Meryl handed James a
Daily Mirror
. He could see the giant headline, but his vision was too blurry to read the text.

‘Read it to me,’ James said.

‘It’s the main story on TV,’ Meryl said. ‘Bungle’s picture was on the cover of every paper. There’s all kinds of rumours about where he’s gone.’

‘I feel sorry for their little boy,’ James said, ‘He’s only three.’

*

Mac came into the ward an hour later. Lauren was with him, dressed in pyjamas. She jumped on the bed and gave James a hug. She looked like she’d just heard the funniest joke ever.

‘There’s nothing wrong with you,’ Lauren squealed. ‘Thanks for scaring me.’

‘What are you on about?’ James asked.

‘James,’ Mac said. ‘Have you spoken to Doctor Coen yet?’

James shook his head. ‘No.’

‘We just found out that the bacteria in your system is harmless,’ Mac said. ‘Scargill Dunn claimed they were using a weak strain of anthrax. They were only going to use the bad stuff on the day of the conference. A laboratory in London rechecked your blood sample and the anthrax inside you couldn’t kill a flea.’

James let out a big smile.

‘I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘What’s the point of harmless anthrax?’

‘Bungle only wanted to kill the Petrocon delegates,’ Mac said. ‘He made the first batch of anthrax with what’s called an
attenuated strain
. It’s used in the anthrax vaccine. It makes you immune to the nasty variety. It’s been in the air-conditioning at Green Brooke conference hall for weeks.

‘Security guards, cleaners, catering staff and anyone else who works regularly in the conference hall would be vaccinated by the time Petrocon started. On the first day of the conference a lethal strain of anthrax was going to be put in the air-conditioning, but only the conference guests would get the disease.’

*

Dr Coen stopped James’ antibiotics. By Friday evening he felt much better. The drip was taken out and James managed to eat without feeling sick. By Saturday morning he was almost back to normal. Ewart drove up from Wales.

‘Is Amy with you?’ James asked.

‘No, she’s back at Fort Harmony, keeping her ear to the ground to see if any information comes through about Bungle. It’s not very likely with all that’s going on: there are about fifty cops camped out at the bottom of the hill and loads of huts have got police on the doorstep guarding evidence.’

‘How did Amy explain me disappearing?’

‘You got into a fight with Amy in the night. Ran off. Stormed down the road and got run over by some lunatic driving a BMW. Amy lifted you into the car and the driver rushed you to hospital. You lost some blood and you’ve got a broken arm, but otherwise you’re OK. They’re keeping you in for observation.’

‘Good story,’ James said. ‘I should be allowed out of here today.’

‘After all you’ve been through this week I’ll understand if you want to go back to CHERUB and rest,’ Ewart said. ‘But I’d appreciate it if you could show your face at Fort Harmony for a few days. A week at most.’

‘Will I be allowed to see Joanna?’ James asked.

‘Why not?’ Ewart grinned. ‘Keep hanging out with Sebastian and Clark. Some little titbit of information might pop out, but mostly it’s to cover Cathy. It would look suspicious if you disappeared on the morning before the arrests never to be seen again.’

*

A nurse fitted James with a plaster cast on his fake broken arm. On the drive back to Wales James read all the latest stuff in the papers about the anthrax terrorists and the continuing hunt for the laboratory and Bungle. It was odd seeing the newspapers filled with stuff he knew about.

The stories made Bungle sound like a supervillain, but James could only remember a big friendly American who cared about workers’ rights and the environment.

*

Cathy was waiting in the Land Cruiser fifteen kilometres outside Craddogh. James ran between the two cars and waved to Ewart as he drove off.

‘Hello, Ross,’ Cathy said. ‘Fake broken arm?’

James nodded. ‘It itches exactly like a real broken arm.’

As they got near the camp a policewoman pulled the Land Cruiser over and asked Cathy where she was going. Cathy got waved on. She had to drive across country because the bottom of the hill near the underground workshop was sealed off by police.

The main hut was packed when James and Cathy arrived. The residents seemed edgy about all the police and media people hanging around. A few journalists and photographers were scrounging free stew. Amy hugged James when she saw him. James wanted to go down the village and see Joanna, but it was already late and he didn’t know if her dad was home.

Sebastian tapped James on the back.

‘Hey, cripple,’ Clark said. ‘Feeling OK?’

‘Not bad, a bit weak.’

‘You’re lucky that driver didn’t splatter you,’ Clark said.

‘Would have been wicked getting up and seeing you mashed into the road,’ Sebastian laughed. ‘Got any scars?’

James pulled up the sleeve of his T-shirt and showed the mass of bruises and cuts where the antibiotics had been injected.

‘Is that where the car hit you?’ Clark asked.

James nodded.

‘We were gonna ask you something the night you got run over,’ Clark said. ‘But we couldn’t find you.’

‘Ask what?’

‘If you wanted to sleep over in our hut.’

‘Cool,’ James said.

James couldn’t decide if he liked Sebastian and Clark. They had a dark side, but that made them interesting to be around. They slept in a rusty panel van next to their mum’s hut.