The Fallen (34 page)

The second boy’s head was completely normal, but the rest of him was twisted, as if his skeleton had been broken and remade. His back was in an S shape and his arms and legs were bent. He was sitting on the floor, his knees up round his ears, taking his weight on his arms. He was smiling.

‘You found us then,’ he said.

Found what exactly?
Blue didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to stare, but it was hard not to. He fixed on the boy’s eyes – he was a human being after all. But what the hell had happened to him?

‘I hope you’re not planning on attacking us,’ said the boy. ‘But I’ll just warn you.’ He jerked his head at the tall, muscular kid. ‘Him there. The big golem. He’s stronger than Arnie in his prime. He’ll rip you apart. He won’t be scared of your weapons.’

‘That’s tough talk, tiger,’ said Achilleus. ‘Seeing as how you is bare outnumbered.’

‘Oh, there are more of us,’ said the boy on the floor. ‘Hidden about the place. Watching. So … maybe we’ll accept your offer.’

‘What offer?’ said Blue.

‘To put your weapons down.’

‘Wasn’t
my
offer.’

‘Don’t care whose offer it was,’ said the boy. ‘Why don’t you be nice and show that you
come in peace
, eh?’

Ollie nudged Blue. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We don’t want a fight.’

Blue didn’t like being told by Ollie what they did and didn’t want. He was still trying to make sense of this weird situation. Maybe they
would
need to fight. What did Ollie know about these kids? Nothing. Blue stayed rock solid. Weapon in hand.

‘Blue …?’

‘Shut up, Ollie, I’m thinking.’

Ollie backed off. Apart from the Incredible Hulk, these kids didn’t look dangerous. They’d lived this long through the bad times, so they must know what they were doing, though. They must have some sharpened survival skills. The kid on the floor certainly seemed smart. Ollie kept coming back to that one thought. If they’d wanted to attack Blue’s team they could have done it before now. But Blue had lived this long as well, hadn’t he? And he’d done that by making sure he didn’t take any chances.

‘OK, here’s what we’re gonna do,’ he said at last. ‘Ollie, you take everyone else back downstairs and make sure nobody does nothing stupid. Hang on to your weapons, and keep a look-out. I don’t want no more surprises. Jackson, Einstein and Emily, you stay with me. Any weapons you got, lay them down.’

There was some muttering and complaining, but Blue didn’t budge and in a minute it was quiet. There was still tension in the air, wariness from both sides, and Blue could sense the rest of his team were as confused as he was, but the situation was less likely to kick off now. They settled down in armchairs, embarrassed, not knowing where to
look. The boy on the floor walked closer to them in a crouch, using his hands. His limbs were loose and awkward; they moved in odd ways almost as if they had extra joints. His head wobbled. His back snaked from side to side.

‘My name’s TV Boy,’ he said, and held out a dirty hand for Blue to shake, the fingers long and bent. Blue didn’t hesitate; he gripped the hand, squeezed it and then gave him the full homie handshake. TV Boy kept up with him and gave it back, finishing with a thumb press.

Blue smiled, introduced his team, and then it was TV Boy’s turn.

‘That’s the Warehouse Queen,’ he said, nodding at the girl, who remained expressionless but watchful. ‘She’s kind of in charge,’ TV Boy went on, ‘but she don’t say much. The boy wonder is Monstar. Half monster, all star. And he will kick your ass inside out if you step out of line.’

‘We ain’t stepping out of line if we can help it,’ said Blue. ‘But I have to tell you I don’t know where the line is right now. No offence and all, but this is bare strange. You gonna have to tell us just what the hell is going down here.’

‘OK,’ said TV Boy. ‘You want to know? We’ll show you.’

59

This is the journal of Lettis Slingsbury. It is quiet now and I can write. Some things have been happening that I need to set down in the record.

My last entry was about the argument we were having about going outside to bury Gabby. I had to stop writing before because the others were distracting me and I never got to the end of the story. The story is still not over, but there is more to tell and while it is quiet again I can carry on with my writing.

I have read my last entry. I am sorry if it is not really good proper writing and too much of it is about me. I liked writing at school, but I’m not a professional obviously.

I was telling how the others were arguing and arguing about who would volunteer to be the first to go outside.

In the end I think it was Daryl who said it (I am trying to remember all this, and the words I am writing that people were saying are not necessarily the actual words they said, they are as close as I can remember and sometimes the right person might not have said the words I said they said, but it’s the best I can do under these difficult circumstances).

So someone, I’ll say it was Daryl because I’m pretty sure it was him – it was his idea at least – said it didn’t need to be just one person going outside, that was stupid. Lots of us should go, then it would be safer. If anyone was definitely going to go, outside, which I still didn’t think was a good idea, then at least it was sensible if they didn’t go alone. We talked about it and thought that maybe half of us should all go out together and see what was in the sheds and find tools and quickly dig the hole, all working together to do it quickly. The other half would stay behind and make it safe in the church, and sort of guard the doors from attack and look after Caspar.

So they asked for volunteers. But still nobody said they would go outside and there was another long argument. And in the end Jasmine lost it big time and started sort of screaming that it was horrible being in here with a dead body and that even if they didn’t find any tools or even look in the sheds they should take the body outside. It didn’t seem like a very Christian thing to say, but she was just scared and freaked out I suppose. I thought this was maybe a stupid idea, to leave a body outside, because sickos might not be able to smell it if we kept the corpse inside, but if we took it outside they would definitely smell it and come from miles around, like a pack of hungry wolves. But I didn’t say anything because I could see that Jasmine was very upset and all crying and everything.

‘Will you go outside then?’ said Reece. ‘As it was your idea.’

Jasmine said she would, and she said come on, are none of you as brave as me? Come on, we spent all day yesterday outside! I’ll go outside by myself if that’s what you want. And more of that sort of thing.

I’ve always liked Jasmine, she is one of my friends, but she has always been quite moody and when she gets cross she gets really cross, and goes red in the face, all shouting and crying, and it can be a bit scary, but it had the desired effect. Lots of children now said they would go outside and didn’t want to be thought of as cowards.

In fact it was almost quite funny, because there were too many now. We didn’t want everyone outside and risk being attacked out there with no one to guard the church, so there was more arguing. The thing was, all the tougher kids who usually stop the arguments and tell people to shut up and what to do were all on the search party, so nobody was really in charge. It was like trying to organize a game when everyone’s arguing about the rules and what teams you’re on. And it was quite boring. I went away and sat on a pew (a church bench) with two of my friends who joined me (this was Aiyshah and Scott). I didn’t think I needed to watch the argument and observe what they were all saying because they were just going round and round in circles like a dog chasing its tail. After a while, luckily, the others sorted it out to their satisfaction and got ready to go outside.

I am not brave. I’ve never said I was. I’m not exactly a coward, but I am not one to volunteer for dangerous missions. So I was one of the ones to stay inside the church. I thought I should be there because I could write about things and observe, rather than be part of the things that were happening. Scott and Aiyshah were the same.

I am writing now and Daryl went back up to the top of the tower to be a look-out and the others are outside. That is Jasmine and Reece and Bradley and Demi. They were all singing and shouting to make themselves braver as they went, calling out things like ‘hey, you sickos, we’re not scared of you’ and other much ruder things that I won’t write down. They put the body on one of the trolleys and pushed it out, bumping and jolting on the uneven floor. They had to lift the body up by the sheet to get it on. Nobody wanted to touch it. They said it was cold and hard and heavy. So they went and for a little while there was heavenly peace and I thought it would be a good time to start my entry, not sure when I would be able to write again.

It is easier for me to bury my head in a book and not think about the bad things happening. If I can write about it maybe I will be safe. But I will have to stop writing soon. Something has gone wrong you see.

It happened like this. For a while we heard nothing from the steeple or from outside. Aiyshah and Scott had been waiting at the church doors, peeping out, ready to open them wide when the children were ready to come back in. They were by the church doors and guarding them. I’m sorry, I think I already wrote that – I don’t have time to check and make corrections.

At first the two door guards were giggling and laughing a bit, sort of overexcited like primary school children, turning their scaredness into laughter as if it might protect them. They were joking, saying they had seen something, and making each other jump and then cursing like mad. And then after a while one of them, Aiyshah, said no, she really had seen something and Scott mocked her and carried on messing about and teasing, but she got quite agitated and kept saying it over and over and saying ‘no, look!’ and pointing, and in the end Scott saw it too and they screamed and slammed the doors shut.

Caspar asked them what they had seen and they weren’t completely sure, but they were fairly sure it was sickos, three of them, in a pack, all dirty and muddy and brown, coming out of the trees. Now the children inside the church really were scared and they were running around, and Daryl came down from the tower and asked what was going on. ‘Didn’t you see it?’ said Aiyshah. ‘There were three sickos coming.’ Daryl said he hadn’t seen anything, he had been too busy watching the children who were trying to dig a hole for the grave. They were still talking about it when we all heard a sort of rattling and a scratching and banging at the door. Aiyshah shouted out to see if it was other children. We heard no voices back only the rattling and scratching.

We told Daryl to go back up on to the steeple and see what was happening and warn the others, and then we did hear voices outside, and shouting.

‘We have to open the doors,’ said Aiyshah, ‘to let them back in. We can’t leave them out there with sickos.’

‘But if we open the doors the sickos will get in,’ said Caspar, who is more frightened than the rest of us because he is already wounded, and can’t walk easily.

There were voices all talking over each other now, Caspar saying things like, ‘We need to be ready for them.’ And Scott saying, ‘Are you sure there were only three?’ Nobody really wanting to know the truth.

It is very difficult. It is a difficult decision and we don’t know what to do. I will stop writing now because I need to help. I can’t hide in this book after all. My hand is shaking too much to write and real things are going on. We are in a desperate situation and I hope the search party comes back soon. Surely they can’t be much longer? Unless something has happened to them as well. I do not want to think about that. I will stop writing because it is making me think too much.

I have to help. I have to do something.