The End (27 page)

The children all wanted to look at more pictures, even though they found them disgusting. All except The Kid, who got up and walked down to the other end of the library. Sam followed him.

‘Hey,’ he said, when they were out of earshot. ‘Are you OK?’

The Kid turned round. He didn’t look OK. Sam had never seen him
sad like this. The Kid shrugged.

‘I don’t want to spoil their joy,’ he said. ‘Their parasite fun and games.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Sam asked. ‘You usually like to talk. Sometimes talking makes things better.’

The Kid gave a big sigh. Slumped down on to the floor.

‘I don’t have the words,’ he said. ‘Not the right ones. Words, words, words. I’m full of words.
So many they sometimes poison me. But I don’t have the words for this. I can say I’m sad, but that doesn’t even half describe how I feel. I can say I’m heartbroken, but that sounds like I’m someone in an old book with people wearing wigs. Distraught, cut up, devastated: they all just sound like what they are, just words. Words, they mean nothing to me now. I’m broken inside. Full
of dust. We were going to get married, me and Yo-Yo, and have thirty-seven children. I counted them and we had names for every one. As well as cats. Yo-Yo liked cats. Eighty-three cats. Even though I’m not what you call a cat person. But I’d have done anything for that wee girl. And we were going to live in a house on a hill with a view of the sky. Oh boy. I’m sad, Sam. I’m very sad.
But I don’t have the words and I don’t have any more tears. They were all squeezed out of me. I am made of sorrow, beg steal and borrow, will you still love me tomorrow? I will love her for always and all time, and time beyond time. And I know she’s gone to a safe place, a place beyond the stars where no one can hurt you. But still I’m sad. You know about sorrow, Sam. I don’t need
to tell you. Your sister’s gone. We all know sorrow. We’ve all lost them, the old ones, my granddad. He was the best. Looked after me. Your sister. Everybody’s mum and dad. I sometimes wonder how we carry on.’

‘But we do carry on,’ said Sam. ‘She’s still alive – Ella – I know she is. I’ll see her again, and when I do everything will be all right.’

‘Maybe I’ll see Yo-Yo
again,’ said The Kid with a sort of smile. ‘Shadowman didn’t see her die.’

‘You will,’ said Sam, although he didn’t believe it. In the same way that he didn’t really believe he’d see Ella again.

‘Oh, the way she plucked her strings,’ said The Kid. ‘And the way she sawed her bow and made the catgut sing. She was an angel, bringing sweet music to the world. The food of love,
play on. She’s playing on somewhere, I know it. With a band made of whistles and flutes and toots and banging drums and cymbals, celestas, cellos, cellophane and sell-by dates. I don’t know what any of the words mean any more, Sam, not sure I ever did, to be honest. Samwise, Samwich, Sam I am, green eggs and ham …’

The Kid fell silent and Sam put his arms round him. Held him
tight. The Kid’s tears might have dried up, but Sam was crying. For all that they had lost. And then someone else was there, licking and snuffling, and the boys laughed. It was Bright Eyes. And there was Paddy, who’d been out with Achilleus learning his spear skills, running over to fetch her back.

‘Leave them, Bright Eyes,’ he said, fussing around her. ‘Bad girl.’

Paddy got
hold of her collar and pulled her away, but Sam and The Kid were still laughing. And Sam wasn’t embarrassed now that it looked like he had dog slobber on his cheeks and not childish tears.

He jumped up and rubbed Bright Eyes’ ears.

‘Yo there.’

Sam looked round to see Jordan Hordern coming in, and the whole atmosphere in the library changed.

37

Jordan had Blu-Tack Bill with him and a couple of older boys who Sam found slightly scary. Not as scary as Jordan, though. He was the worst. Bill was muttering something. He was probably counting. That’s what he did. Sam knew him well enough that whenever he went up or down stairs he always counted the steps, and did weird, complicated mathematical calculations in his head.

Jordan was looking at Paddy. Well, sort of half looking. Jordan hardly ever looked at you directly, and when he did …

‘We come to ask you something, boy,’ he said.

‘Yeah?’

Sam could see that Paddy was just as nervous as he was, even though he was trying to hide it. Paddy wasn’t as tough as he wanted everyone else to think.

‘Whassup?’ he said, as casual-sounding as
he could manage, and then held his hand up for one of those complicated handshakes that Sam could never learn properly. Jordan ignored him. Sam had seen how he didn’t like to be touched.

‘Your dog,’ said Jordan.

‘What about her?’

‘Bright Eyes, yeah? That’s her name?’

‘Yeah. She’s a clever dog. A seeing-eye dog.’

Jordan nodded slowly. ‘Thing is – I need a dog.’

‘Yeah? There’s some around. Ryan and his hunters have loads. They might swap you one.’

‘I need
this
dog.’

‘But she’s my dog.’

‘I know. So I’m asking you a favour … Paddy. Yeah? That your name?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well, Paddy. I’m asking if you’ll give me your dog.’

‘OK. I get you. But the thing is, she’s my dog and I don’t want to give her away. She’s spoils of war.’

‘I know that.’ Jordan was staying patient, but there was a coldness in his voice. ‘But I’m asking a favour of you. Give me your dog.’

For the first time Jordan looked directly at Paddy, through his thick, broken glasses, and the look was scary as anything. Paddy couldn’t hold it for more than a couple of seconds, and then he was staring down at his shoes.

‘It’s my dog,’ he
mumbled. ‘Bright Eyes.’

Jordan squatted down and held the dog’s head, whispered something into her ear. When he stood up, the dog went to his side and sat to heel. Calm and placid. Like it was nothing.

Bill stood back from the others. Nothing to do with him. Leave him out of it. Fiddling with the piece of Blu-tack he always had with him, shaping it quickly between his fingers
– little figures, men and women, animals, numbers, shapes, cubes and pyramids … and a dog, which he immediately crushed.

‘You can’t take her,’ said Paddy, his voice shaking, still staring at the floor. ‘Not like that. You can’t just take her.’

‘I’m taking her,’ said Jordan. ‘OK? That’s how it is. I need her. We’ll find you another dog. Don’t worry.’

‘I don’t want another
dog,’ said Paddy. ‘I want Bright Eyes. She’s a good dog.’

‘She’s a very good dog.’ Jordan snapped a lead on the dog’s collar. ‘Which is why I want her. You’ll get over it.’

Paddy lifted his head. His face was shiny from crying, which made Sam feel not so bad for crying earlier. Paddy tried one last time to argue, but Jordan stared him down and Paddy went quiet. Jordan turned
round and walked away with his guys. Taking the dog.

‘I won’t forget this,’ he said as he went out. The kids with Wiki and Jibber-jabber were looking hard at their books, pretending not to notice what was happening. Bill hesitated for a second, looked at his old friends, and then, without saying anything, he followed Jordan out.

38

‘The four-eyed speccy jerk. The cold, dead-staring creep. The bitch!’ Achilleus had gone ballistic. He was striding up and down the main hall, past the diplodocus skeleton, waving his spear around, threatening anyone who got close. Maxie was doing her best. She’d tried to calm him down, but that had been an epic fail. Achilleus was just getting worse and worse, and upsetting
everyone around him. Paddy was slumped on a bench, looking sad and angry and scared. Scared of what Achilleus might do. And Achilleus’s rage had set Paddy off crying again. Maxie knew how much Paddy hated people to see him show any weakness, but the boy was much softer than he acted.

‘That was my dog,’ Achilleus ranted. ‘My dog to do with what I wanted. I gave it to Paddy. It’s
not Jordan’s to take away. He can’t march in here like a roadman, thinking he owns the place, and just do what he likes. It’s not right. I’m not having it. No way, man.’

‘Let’s talk about it,’ said Maxie, not wanting to give up.

‘Nothing to talk about,’ said Achilleus. ‘Is done. Over. He thinks I’m gonna fight for his poxy army, does he? Well, guess what? I ain’t. You
get me? You all hear this? I WILL NOT FIGHT FOR THAT JERK!’

‘Achilleus.’ Maxie was trying not to sound whiny, but that’s what she felt like. ‘You can’t say that.’

‘I can. This is me done. Is not my fight any more. Mister Jordan bloody special-needs Hordern can find himself another officer.’

‘Come on, Akkie,’ said Maxie, avoiding his waving spear. ‘This is bigger than
one stupid dog.’

‘She weren’t no stupid dog, though. That’s just it. She’s clever. That’s why this is what it is. Paddy loved that dog. I gave it him. It was mine to give. Not Jordan’s to take.’

‘Let me try and talk to him.’

‘Too late. Jordan hasn’t shown me no respect. Nobody appreciates me.’

‘We all appreciate you. You know we do.’

‘None of you’d be alive if
it weren’t for me. Well, I’m gonna prove that. Is your fight now. See how you do without me.’

‘No, Achilleus. Listen to me. We
do
respect you. We need you now more than ever. We can’t do this without you.’

‘If Jordan’s so good he’ll save you all.’

‘We’ll have a meeting,’ said Maxie. ‘Call Jordan in. We’ll sort it.’

‘No more meetings. No more talk. Forget it.’

‘At least put the spear down. You’re scaring people.’

Achilleus’s spear was lethal. God knows how many people he’d killed with it. The point was sharp as a needle.

‘This is all I ever was,’ said Achilleus, shaking the spear above his head. ‘A weapon.’

He broke away and walked quickly to the back of the hall, scattering kids as he went. Then he was bounding up the stairs,
three at a time, past the white marble statue of Charles Darwin. Maxie followed hard on his heels, pleading with
him all the way, scared of what he was going to do. She’d never seen him like this before. He’d been arrogant and pig-headed, he’d been full of himself and mean and disruptive, but she’d never really seen him angry.

He switched back on himself at the top of the
stairs, heading for the front of the museum. Kids moved out of the way as he bundled past them, ignoring the glass cases with the displays of apes and early humans, going towards the minerals gallery where the kids slept and hung out.

‘Akkie!’ Maxie shouted, hurrying to catch up with him, terrified that he was going to go into the gallery and do something awful, but he carried
straight on past it and up the stairs that led to the top floor.

Right at the top was the cross-section of a giant sequoia four metres wide. As Achilleus neared it, he drew back his arm and let fly with his spear, as if the tree trunk was a giant dartboard. The spear flew straight and clean and hit the sequoia right in the centre, a perfect bull’s eye, the point going in several
centimetres.

‘Done!’ shouted Achilleus. ‘As long as that spear stays there, I won’t fight. If anyone touches it I’ll kill them.’

‘Please, Akkie.’ Maxie was out of breath, choked up. Everything was falling apart. ‘Please. Without you …’

‘Exactly!’ Achilleus cut her off. ‘Without me. You’ll have to get used to it, Maxie, because from now on that’s how it is.’

Maxie
crushed all her feelings and turned them into anger. She moved in on Achilleus, put her face right in his.

‘You can’t do this,’ she said. ‘You can’t let your self-love ruin us all. Your petty hurt pride. If other kids find out you’re not fighting they might get scared, think it’s not worth it. They might all just pull out.’

‘I don’t care. It’s not my problem any more.’

‘Would you really risk losing the battle?’ said Maxie. ‘Watch us all die? Just for this?’

‘Yeah,’ said Achilleus. ‘I would, as it goes. I don’t care for no one else. I never did.’

‘That’s not true,’ Maxie snapped. ‘What were we just talking about the other day?’

‘Dunno. Don’t care.’

‘“
Arran Lives
”. How Freak used to spray it. What it meant.’

‘Means nothing. He’s dead.’