Authors: Robert Muchamore
PART TWO
June 2014
6. RANK
CHERUB campus
‘Dammit, team Sharma!’ Instructor Speaks shouted, as he leaned into a changing room stained with the residue from thousands of paintball battles. ‘I’ve seen one-legged pensioners move faster than you. If you’re not dressed, equipped and lined up for inspection within two minutes, you can run five laps around the training compound.’
There were two teams of four on the training exercise. Fifteen-year-old Ryan Sharma had been dragged out of bed ninety minutes earlier. He’d been given ten minutes to dress and eat breakfast, before being made to run out to the campus obstacle course. After three gruelling circuits over climbing nets, narrow poles and rope swings, his black CHERUB shirt was a soggy sheet of sweat that clung to his skin.
Ryan’s team mates were his three siblings: twelve-year-old twins Leon and Daniel, and nine-year-old Theo.
‘We’re gonna boil running around in this lot,’ Leon moaned, as he zipped a padded overall over his running kit and started pushing his feet back into his boots.
While Leon complained, Theo was having a meltdown because the zip on his overall was stuck. ‘This is so bogus,’ he shouted.
Ryan already had his boots and face mask on and instinctively moved to help his youngest brother.
‘Calm down,’ Ryan said firmly. ‘How will you make it through a hundred days’ basic training, if you get flustered over a little zip?’
‘You’re such a wuss, Theo,’ Leon added unhelpfully.
Ryan gave Leon a look of contempt as he stepped in front of Theo and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Let me try.’
‘It’s totally stuck,’ Theo blurted, as he tugged the zip with all his might.
‘You’re trying to force it,’ Ryan said. ‘You’ll just break it.’
Instructor Speaks shouted through the doorway. ‘Thirty seconds.’
Ryan went down on one knee. He took hold of the long zip running up the front of Theo’s overall and ran it back and forth a couple of times before successfully whizzing it all the way up to his chin.
‘There,’ Ryan said, as his little brother smiled gratefully. ‘Panicking won’t get you anywhere, will it?’
Warm sunshine hit the four dark-haired brothers as they stepped out of the changing room dressed in matching army-green overalls, thick gloves and black paintball helmets.
‘Ahh, finally,’ Instructor Speaks said, as he made a clap with his giant black hands.
The Sharma brothers’ rival team had already assembled on the tarmac ramp leading up to the paintball range. Its four members were all friends of Ryan: fifteen-year-old Fu Ning, his sometime girlfriend Grace Vuillamy and his two best mates Max Black and Alfie DuBoisson.
‘Gonna flatten you!’ Alfie threatened.
‘We may be younger and smaller, but we’ve got it where it counts,’ Daniel shouted, as he tapped his head. ‘Brainpower.’
‘Your team consists of two chubby chicks and a pair of cock heads,’ Leon added.
Ning and Grace both reared up.
‘Say that to my face and see what you get,’ Grace shouted.
Mr Speaks puffed out his muscular chest and cracked some knuckles. ‘This banter is all
very
entertaining, but I want to keep those hearts pumping, so listen good because I’m not going to repeat myself.
‘Spread around the paintball range you will find eight paintball guns, eight compressed air cylinders to make the guns work, and eight hoppers containing a hundred and fifty paintballs. You may also find shields and other equipment that will assist your efforts to get hold of these items.’
‘It’s like the Hunger Games,’ Theo said quietly.
‘The object of the game is to find and assemble the guns and shoot the four members of the opposite team. If you are hit by a paintball, you’re dead and must leave the compound.
‘If neither team wins within three hours, the game will be declared a draw and I’ll make you all run around campus holding large sandbags over your heads. Usual safety rules apply. No low blows, or eye gouging. Additionally, with paintballs zipping around, keep your helmets on at all times and don’t do anything to remove another person’s helmet.
‘Your individual performances will be assessed. Anyone not showing initiative or working hard throughout will be referred to the training department for a one-on-one refresher training course with yours truly. Any questions?’
Max Black raised his hand and Mr Speaks pointed at him.
‘Three laps of the training compound after the exercise for you,’ Speaks spat.
Max was incredulous. ‘What?’
‘I explained everything that needs explaining,’ Speaks shouted. ‘If you need to ask a question, it means you weren’t listening.’
Max swore quietly inside his mask, but knew he’d only get more punishment laps if he argued.
‘The time is now eleven minutes past nine,’ Mr Speaks shouted. ‘So you have until eleven minutes past twelve. Get moving!’
Mr Speaks opened the paintball compound gate and the two teams jogged through. A black bin bag stood on the grass about a hundred metres inside. Ryan caught sight of it first and broke into a sprint, but soon found Max and Alfie from the rival team charging up behind.
Ryan grabbed the bag and instantly saw it was too light to contain paintball stuff. Max got a hand on it and ripped the plastic open. A bunch of brightly coloured ropes and climbing gear spilled out over the grass. Ryan bent down to scoop some of it up, but immediately got tackled by bulky fourteen-year-old Alfie.
‘Give it up, prom queen,’ Alfie ordered, as Ryan clutched a bunch of ropes to his chest. He wasn’t sure how useful the ropes were likely to be, but he was determined to keep hold of some.
Ryan glanced over his shoulder, hoping that one of the twins would come and give him a hand. But apparently Grace and Ning had taken exception to being called chubby and – unable to tell which twin was which – had decided to go after both of them.
After a tussle, Ryan found himself flat on the ground with Alfie sitting across his chest and Max holding a bunch of ropes.
‘Why don’t we tie him up?’ Max asked. ‘Then we’ll just have his three little brothers to deal with.’
‘No tying up,’ Ryan protested.
‘Says who?’ Max asked, as he prepared a large loop to hook around Ryan’s ankles.
Alfie nodded. ‘We got the standard lecture about low blows and head shots, but I never heard nothing about tying up.’
Ryan bucked frantically. ‘Damn your big fat arse, Alfie.’
Alfie smirked. ‘Shut it or I’ll grunt on you.’
‘Exterminate!’ Theo shouted, as he jumped out from behind a tree holding a plastic dustbin lid.
When he got close, he spun to avoid Alfie and barged into Max who was much skinnier. Theo was less than two thirds of Max’s weight, but he had enough momentum to knock him sideways.
As soon as Ryan had room to move, he brought his knees up.
‘Ooof!’ Alfie moaned, as Ryan’s kneecap connected with his balls. ‘Low blow!’
With Theo driving him sideways, and Ryan bucking underneath, Max wound up in a heap in the grass. Alfie tried getting his arms around Theo’s waist, but only got whacked with the dustbin lid for his trouble.
Ryan started scrambling forwards, crawling at first but finding his feet. Max grabbed Ryan’s boot and managed to unlace it but he was soon up and running.
‘You saved my butt,’ Ryan told his little brother as he scrambled off. Theo looked extremely proud of himself.
Alfie was still groaning and holding his balls, and Max didn’t fancy his chances going after Ryan and Theo on his own. So the two brothers made it over a couple of hundred metres of clear ground before diving into a copse of trees.
‘Did you see what happened to Leon and Daniel?’ Ryan asked.
‘I saw the girls going after them.’
Ryan nodded. ‘I don’t fancy their chances, especially against Ning.’
‘It’s bogus,’ Theo complained. ‘The other team are all fifteen – well, Alfie’s fourteen but he’s enormous.’
‘Life’s not fair,’ Ryan said. ‘That’s what they’re trying to teach us.’
‘So what now?’ Theo asked. ‘Shall we try to help the twins?’
Ryan shook his head. ‘Even if we caught up with them, our chances aren’t good. I say we stick together, cover as much ground as we can. The other team is bigger and stronger, and the only way to even up the odds is by getting our hands on a gun and some ammo before they do.’
7. LAUNDRY
Idris Secure Training Centre
‘It’s not difficult,’ Chloe Cohen said, as she ambled into the laundry room, dressed in an England rugby shirt, Adidas tracksuit bottoms and a pair of flip-flops.
Chloe’s fourteen years had been a succession of abuse and disaster, that had finally got her locked up after she’d got high and burned down a house owned by her stepdad. Her companion Izzy was thirteen, but seemed more like eleven. She was doing time after stealing chemicals from her school science lab and brewing poison tea for her parents and older sister.
As Izzy put a plastic laundry basket down on the floor in front of a washing machine, Chloe dipped a scoop into a giant box of powder.
‘Open the drawer on the front.’
Izzy opened the drawer and Chloe tipped in the powder, with a few sprinkles hitting the floor.
‘Clothes in,’ Chloe said. ‘Close the door and set to thirty-degree wash. Push start.’
Izzy stepped back from the machine nervously, then turned to Chloe and gave a relieved smile when it started gurgling.
‘Takes an hour,’ Chloe said. ‘I’ll come back and show you how to do the dryers when it’s done.’
‘Hello, hello!’ Fay Hoyt said.
Now fifteen, Fay wore battered jeans and a black T-shirt that stretched over muscular shoulders. Chloe backed up towards one of the machines and Izzy detected her angst and did the same.
‘Is this the new girl?’ Fay asked, looking down her nose as she took a step nearer to Izzy. ‘Got on the six o’clock news for trying to poison her whole family?’
Chloe narrowed her eyes. ‘Well,
you
tried to kill a cop.’
‘I tried to get away,’ Fay said. ‘If I’d tried to
kill
Constable Shitface, he’d be dead.’
‘You act so tough,’ Chloe spat. ‘But I’m not scared of you.’
Fay laughed, then threw a punch. It stopped well short of Chloe’s cheek, but she jumped backwards, making Fay howl with laughter.
‘Nah. You’re not scared of me at all, are you?’
As Fay moved in again, Chloe made a clumsy lunge. Fay snatched Chloe’s flying wrist and bent back her fingers, while using her other hand to slap her face. Chloe sprawled backwards over a washing machine before Fay pulled her up and shoved her head first towards the dryers.
‘Stay where you are or I’ll kick your head in,’ Fay warned, before turning towards Izzy.
The petite thirteen-year-old had backed into a corner stacked with powder boxes. Fay pointed at the floor tiles in front of her and growled.
‘Get here.’
Izzy was trembling.
‘Don’t make me come and get you.’
‘Leave her alone,’ Chloe shouted. ‘You’re twice her size.’
Izzy was still too scared to move forward, so Fay stepped up, grabbed Izzy around the back of the neck and pushed her head against the top of a washing machine. Then she wound Izzy’s long red hair around her wrist and pulled it painfully tight.
‘What have you got?’ Fay asked.
‘What?’
Fay smiled. ‘If I go to your room and you give me something nice, we’ll be best friends and I won’t have to hurt you.’
‘Clothes?’ Izzy suggested.
‘Bonehead,’ Fay spat. ‘I’m not going to fit in your stupid midget clothes, am I, you stupid midget?’
‘Don’t give her anything,’ Chloe shouted. ‘She’s a psycho! She won’t stop.’
‘Let’s go to your room and see,’ Fay said.
Fay moved towards the door, dragging Izzy by her hair. The hallway outside was painted custard yellow and had prison-style doors off either side. At least one girl saw what was going on, but kept her head down as Izzy was manhandled halfway down the corridor to the cell she shared with Chloe.
‘You’d
better
have something decent,’ Fay shouted.
Izzy looked desperately around her room and pointed at a novelty bedside clock, shaped like the dinosaur from
Toy Story
. Fay immediately knocked the clock off the bedside table and kicked it, while simultaneously keeping her grip on Izzy’s hair.
‘Just this once I’m gonna let you off,’ Fay announced. ‘But keep your trap shut and you’d better have something to give me next time I see you.’
As Fay unwound Izzy’s hair the cell door opened and two burly women charged in.
‘No, no, no!’ one of them shouted.
‘This isn’t on, young lady!’
Fay looked around and saw a couple of school books on the window ledge. ‘She went in my room and stole my books,’ Fay shouted.
As soon as Fay had been prised off, Izzy started sobbing. The two guards expertly grabbed Fay under the arms and put her in a restraining hold before marching her out of the cell. Chloe was right outside, wearing a smirk.
‘I know you grassed me up,’ Fay shouted. ‘You wait! You just wait.’
Chloe boldly gave Fay the finger before dashing into the cell to comfort little Izzy.
‘Hey, don’t cry,’ Chloe said soothingly. ‘Fay’s a nasty bitch, but the good news is they’re kicking her back out on the street in two weeks’ time.’
*
Thirty-five minutes into the exercise, Ryan and Theo had found guns and ammo, as well as an equipment pack containing binoculars, water bottles and a collapsible shovel. Theo stood in the fork of a tree using the binoculars, while Ryan covered from the ground.
‘It’s Grace,’ Theo whispered excitedly. ‘No weapon.’
Ryan smiled. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Less than fifty metres,’ Theo said, as he jumped down quietly.
‘You cover my back, I’ll try and take her out,’ Ryan said.
As Theo crouched down with his gun poised, Ryan set off at a steady pace, placing his boots carefully to avoid making any kind of noise. Paintball guns aren’t particularly accurate, so when he got to within twenty metres he went down on his knees and kept crawling. When he was ten metres away, Grace glanced at her watch and started to walk.
Ryan bobbed up and took a shot, but he somehow managed to completely miss. Grace heard the paint spattering a nearby tree trunk and started to run. Ryan knew that moving out of cover into an open chase risked being led into an enemy trap, but he decided that chasing an unarmed opponent was too good an opportunity to give up.
Grace charged out on to open ground, with a vista of CHERUB campus’ main building half a kilometre away. As Grace vaulted a log, she caught the tip of her boot and fell flat on her face. Ryan quickly closed to within five metres and shot Grace as she lay on the ground.
‘Ryan’s got me!’ Grace shouted, hoping to alert her team mates to his location.
In the background Ryan heard the distinct clatter of paintball pellets.
‘Theo?’ he gasped.
He spun around and saw flashes moving through the branches in the direction he’d just come from. A paintball whizzed over his head and he dived for cover behind a tree trunk. Part of him wanted to charge out and help save Theo, but that would be suicidal until he had some idea of where everyone was shooting from.
After twenty seconds crouching, Ryan caught his friend Alfie’s emergence from the clearing with paint splattered across his helmet and arms raised in surrender. The clatter of paintball ammo was still going and Ryan began a cautious walk towards the noise.
He thought he was still at least twenty metres from the action when his friend Max darted out from between two trees. Ryan took aim from five metres and this time he made his first shot count.
Max was a pretty laid-back character and took being killed with good grace. ‘Nice shooting,’ he said. ‘Suppose I’d better go and run my punishment circuits.’
‘Is Theo still alive?’ Ryan asked.
But Theo came out of the trees and answered for himself. ‘Naturally,’ he said, wearing the cocky smile of someone who’d got one over on a bigger kid.
‘Any sign of Leon or Daniel?’ Ryan asked.
Max laughed. ‘Grace and Ning tied them up and we dealt with them as soon as we found our first gun.’
‘So that just leaves Ning alive on the other team,’ Theo said, as he gave his brother a wary smile. ‘Two against one, in our favour.’