Read Online The Dead by Charlie Higson - Free Book Online Page B

the countryside and everything?’
    ‘God knows,’ said Bam. ‘Just don’t think about it, mate. Onwards and upwards and outwards!’ With that Bam gave Ed a hefty slap on the back and strode off to catch up with his friend Piers.
    ‘You worry about things, don’t you, Ed?’ said Malik. ‘You never used to.’
    ‘There’s a lot to worry about .’
    ‘We’re going to be all right, Ed. We’ll find a barn to sleep in. A river to drink from. Maybe there’ll be cows we can milk, sheep and chickens.’
    ‘Pigs,’ Ed added.
    ‘Technically I’m not supposed to eat pork,’ said Malik. ‘But I guess God might let me off if I’m just trying to stay alive.’
    ‘It’ll be like going back to Victorian times,’ said Ed. ‘We can set up a sort of commune.’
    ‘We’ll need to find some girls,’ said Malik.
    ‘What, you mean to clean and cook?’
    ‘No.’ Malik shook his head in exasperation. ‘That’s not what I meant.’
    ‘All right, don’t sound so misunderstood, Malik,’ Ed protested. ‘I know what your lot are like when it comes to women – keeping them in the home doing the housework and all that.’
    ‘We’re not all like that, Ed. Just like you Christians aren’t all the same.’
    ‘I’m not sure I am a Christian,’ Ed said.
    ‘Whatever.’ Malik shrugged. ‘I meant we’ll need to find some girls if we want to start repopulating the world.’
    ‘Fair point. We’ve got Frédérique for a start. We’ll find others. Nice country wenches.’
    ‘Let’s hope we can persuade them to join us,’ said Malik. ‘I don’t know that much about girls.’
    ‘Do you ever wish you’d gone to a mixed-sex school?’ Ed asked.
    ‘My parents would never have allowed it,’ said Malik. ‘They’re not that strict Muslims, but there are some things they’re quite old-fashioned about.’
    ‘They don’t know about that girlfriend you had that time?’
    ‘No way.’
    ‘Whatever happened to her, anyway?’
    ‘She dumped me for an older boy,’ said Malik. ‘He had his own car and everything. Plus he didn’t have any pesky Muslim hang-ups.’
    ‘How very shallow,’ said Ed, putting on a nasal nerdy voice.
    ‘Indeed,’ said Malik, copying the voice. ‘How very shallow.’
    Johnno the rugby player was walking next to Frédérique, trying to get her to come out of her shell. She plodded along, head bent forward, hair hanging down like a veil. All Johnno could see of her face was the tip of her long nose, but he could tell that she was still miserable. Her shoulders were slumped and she barely lifted her feet as she walked, as if each step was a huge effort.
    He tried asking her about her cat, about France, about her school, but he could get nothing out of her, not even a grunt. In the end he told her about himself. He thought at least it might distract her. He told her how he had grown up in Dover. How his dad worked for the customs department at the ferry port. How he had two sisters, his parents were divorced and he’d got into the school on a sports scholarship. He explained how he lived for rugger. The French played rugger too, so he thought she might be interested in that, even though in his experience girls weren’t really that much into rugger.
    ‘I’m into music as well,’ he said. ‘It’s not just rugger. I don’t much like indie music, though, and hate R&B. I like anything LOUD.’
    He couldn’t remember when he’d last heard any music. You needed electricity to hear anything. Had all the music in the world just disappeared along with the power? What a weird idea, to think that there would be no more AC/DC, no more Led Zep and Nirvana and the Rolling Stones and the Stone Roses …
    Best not say anything about all that to Frédérique; he was meant to be cheering her up, wasn’t he? He’d only bring her down even further if he started to point out all the things that no longer existed because there wasn’t any electricity.
    The Internet, music, TV, films …
    Bloody