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

listened as Ol ie questioned Jester further, getting more details.
    He was remembering what life had been like before. In his parents’ big house in Dartmouth Park. Playing on the Heath with his mates. Going into Camden to walk around the market. Hanging out on the streets, chatting. Eating Sunday lunch with his mom and dad.
    His mom and dad ...
    He couldn’t picture exactly what his dad had looked like. He had been a busy man and was hardly ever at home. But Mom ...
    He could never forget her face.
    It was the face he had seen at the pool.
    His mother.
    No.
    It wasn’t true. He’d imagined it. No way that—thing— could have been his mother. It was a trick of the light.
    He realized there were tears streaming down his face. He was glad that nobody could see him. He had turned into a little kid again and just wanted his mom to wrap her arms around him. Speak softly to him. Sing him to sleep.
    The thing at the pool, though, if it had been his mother, had tried to kil him.
    “Mwuh ...”
    He wiped his face, dried the tears. If his eyes looked red, they would assume it was because of his wound.
    “We’re going,” he said firmly, and everyone looked at him. “I don’t care if Jester is making it up. I don’t care if there’s nothing at the other end. We can’t stay here any longer. In the morning we pack up everything and we go.”
    “Wait a minute,” said Maeve. She wasn’t like the other kids. She wasn’t a Londoner. She’d been visiting friends in Camden when everything had kicked off, and had been stuck here ever since. “Shouldn’t we discuss this a bit more?”
    “What’s to discuss?” said Arran.
    “Wel , I just think it’s crazy,” said Maeve.
    “Maybe,” said Arran. “But I’m not staying here.”
    “What you said before. About going to the countryside. Surely, if we’re going anywhere, that’s what we should do. The city’s crawling with grown-ups.
    The only food we can find is cans and dried packets and the half-rotten crap we find in abandoned houses. This is no kind of life.”
    “I told you,” said Jester, sounding exasperated. “We’re growing food at the palace. It’s al organized. You go anywhere else, you’re going into the unknown.”
    “I grew up in the country,” said Maeve. “I know it. We need to get away from the city and go where we can properly farm things and keep animals. We need space and clean air. We need to get out of London.”
    “One day, maybe,” said Arran. “But we have to take it one step at a time. If Jester’s right, and it’s safe in the center, if we can make camp at the palace and get strong, then we can prepare. I don’t know—send out scouts, like Jester, only better armed—find the best route. . . .”
    “Why wait?” said Maeve. “If we head into the center of London we’re going the wrong way. Can’t you see that?”
    “It’s what we’re doing,” said Arran, who felt exhausted and had had enough talking for one night.
    “Maeve’s got a point, though,” said Maxie. “If we link up with the Morrisons crew we’l be strong. We’d have a good chance of getting out. It might be our only chance. To properly start a new life.”
    “We should vote on it,” said Maeve.
    “Okay, okay,” said Arran, who just wanted to go to sleep. “But these are city kids, Maeve. Al they know is London. Some of them have never even been out of the city.”
    “Wel I have,” said Maeve, “and take it from me, London’s not the center of the world. Our only chance for a decent future is to get out. I’ve been arguing for this since we set up camp here. Now’s our chance to do it properly. If we head north up the A1 and then fol ow the M1, in two or three days we’d be clear of the city.”
    “Al right,” said Arran. “You’ve made your point. Al those in favor of going to the palace with Jester, put up your hands.”
    Ol ie careful y counted the show of hands.
    “And anyone in favor of Maeve’s plan, put your hands up.”
    Arran