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Authors: Charlie Higson
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and her
neck was slashed where he’d hacked at her. But then he saw that her stomach had
been ripped open and her intestines had flopped on to the floor. The sickos had got her
first – that’s why she’d been on the floor.
‘She’s dead,’ he said.
‘Leave her.’
The girl didn’t move.
‘Leave her!’ Ed shouted, and
pulled the girl up by her sweatshirt. A sicko came close and Ed angrily sliced his blade
across his face, blinding him. Then he dragged the girl along the corridor to the stairs
and almost threw her down. She found her feet and stumbled ahead of him and he hustled
after her, his heart pounding.
Mercifully they made it safely to the bottom
and were soon out in the fresh air where Macca and Will were waiting for them.
‘We need to leg it,’ said Macca,
pointing westwards to where another knot of sickos was approaching along Byward
Street.
The kids didn’t wait to be told twice;
they raced across the road and legged it down towards the castle gates.
Ed was grinding his teeth. He’d had a go
at Kyle for almost killing another kid and now he’d done it himself.
Brilliant.
He told himself that she would have died
anyway – she was too badly wounded. Better a quick death than a long, slow one. He told
himself that it had been an accident. That they wouldn’t have been able to carry
her out of there because of the sickos.
In the end, though, there was no getting
round the fact that he’d killed a kid.
‘Well done, boss,’ said Kyle as
they helped the gatekeepers close the big black gates behind them in Middle Tower. They
were both panting, their chests heaving.
‘Another successful mission. No one
hurt. One girl rescued.’ Kyle slapped him on the back. ‘Result.’
It had all been worth it.
Hadn’t it?
11
He supposed it was only a matter of time.
The Fear had to eat. There were too many of them now to rely on the few children they
caught. Shadowman had tried to count the strangers, but it was too hard. They only came
out at night and he couldn’t risk getting too close. It was difficult to get a fix
on them through his binoculars. He’d pan over the horde and then lose track of
those he’d counted and those he hadn’t. There were definitely more than
fifty, maybe even more than a hundred, and there were new arrivals every night,
stragglers, who seemed drawn to the bigger pack.
They’d been moving steadily across
north London, from house to house, street to street, eating anything in their path, like
a spreading stain. Shadowman followed along behind, trying not to think too closely
about what they left behind, the bones, the scraps of skin and clumps of bloody hair.
But they also left in their wake food that they couldn’t get at, unopened tin
cans, dried food wrapped in tough plastic, unopened bottles and jars, and this Shadowman
scavenged.
He was impressed at how thorough they were.
What an incredibly destructive force.
Was it really only a few days ago he’d
left the relativesafety of central London where he’d been living
and headed up this way with a group of friends looking for other children? It struck him
just how useless they’d been, finding no one until it was too late. There
were
other children, though, and The Fear were finding them easily
enough.
They marched slowly on, covering only a few
streets a night. They could only move as fast as the slowest among them and there were
some very slow mothers and fathers in the pack: older ones, more diseased ones, those
who’d been injured. They hobbled and crawled and staggered, twelve of them at his
latest count. Easier to keep track of, as they were always at the back, closest to him.
Shadowman almost felt like he was getting to know them. Had made up names for most of
them.
Well, that had been a waste of time.
When it happened, it happened so quickly it
had taken Shadowman completely by surprise.
The Fear had been
neck was slashed where he’d hacked at her. But then he saw that her stomach had
been ripped open and her intestines had flopped on to the floor. The sickos had got her
first – that’s why she’d been on the floor.
‘She’s dead,’ he said.
‘Leave her.’
The girl didn’t move.
‘Leave her!’ Ed shouted, and
pulled the girl up by her sweatshirt. A sicko came close and Ed angrily sliced his blade
across his face, blinding him. Then he dragged the girl along the corridor to the stairs
and almost threw her down. She found her feet and stumbled ahead of him and he hustled
after her, his heart pounding.
Mercifully they made it safely to the bottom
and were soon out in the fresh air where Macca and Will were waiting for them.
‘We need to leg it,’ said Macca,
pointing westwards to where another knot of sickos was approaching along Byward
Street.
The kids didn’t wait to be told twice;
they raced across the road and legged it down towards the castle gates.
Ed was grinding his teeth. He’d had a go
at Kyle for almost killing another kid and now he’d done it himself.
Brilliant.
He told himself that she would have died
anyway – she was too badly wounded. Better a quick death than a long, slow one. He told
himself that it had been an accident. That they wouldn’t have been able to carry
her out of there because of the sickos.
In the end, though, there was no getting
round the fact that he’d killed a kid.
‘Well done, boss,’ said Kyle as
they helped the gatekeepers close the big black gates behind them in Middle Tower. They
were both panting, their chests heaving.
‘Another successful mission. No one
hurt. One girl rescued.’ Kyle slapped him on the back. ‘Result.’
It had all been worth it.
Hadn’t it?
11
He supposed it was only a matter of time.
The Fear had to eat. There were too many of them now to rely on the few children they
caught. Shadowman had tried to count the strangers, but it was too hard. They only came
out at night and he couldn’t risk getting too close. It was difficult to get a fix
on them through his binoculars. He’d pan over the horde and then lose track of
those he’d counted and those he hadn’t. There were definitely more than
fifty, maybe even more than a hundred, and there were new arrivals every night,
stragglers, who seemed drawn to the bigger pack.
They’d been moving steadily across
north London, from house to house, street to street, eating anything in their path, like
a spreading stain. Shadowman followed along behind, trying not to think too closely
about what they left behind, the bones, the scraps of skin and clumps of bloody hair.
But they also left in their wake food that they couldn’t get at, unopened tin
cans, dried food wrapped in tough plastic, unopened bottles and jars, and this Shadowman
scavenged.
He was impressed at how thorough they were.
What an incredibly destructive force.
Was it really only a few days ago he’d
left the relativesafety of central London where he’d been living
and headed up this way with a group of friends looking for other children? It struck him
just how useless they’d been, finding no one until it was too late. There
were
other children, though, and The Fear were finding them easily
enough.
They marched slowly on, covering only a few
streets a night. They could only move as fast as the slowest among them and there were
some very slow mothers and fathers in the pack: older ones, more diseased ones, those
who’d been injured. They hobbled and crawled and staggered, twelve of them at his
latest count. Easier to keep track of, as they were always at the back, closest to him.
Shadowman almost felt like he was getting to know them. Had made up names for most of
them.
Well, that had been a waste of time.
When it happened, it happened so quickly it
had taken Shadowman completely by surprise.
The Fear had been
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