do?’ he said.
‘We run, I guess,’ said Felix. ‘There’s way too many to fight.’
Marco turned round to see if the road was still clear behind them. ‘Back to the Houses of Parliament?’
‘Or we could go up a side-street,’ said Courtney. ‘Try and get round them.’
‘Good idea,’ said DogNut and they dodged up a smaller road called Broadway, pushing on in a fast jog, their packs rattling on their backs.
As they crossed over the next junction, however, they saw another group of sickos running towards them from the side. The kids swore and picked up their speed, only to find the way ahead blocked by yet another gang so that they were forced to duck into an alleyway that branched off to their left. Things were happening too fast for them to get scared, and as long as they kept moving, they were in with a chance of getting away without a fight.
DogNut was hot and angry. It would be a mighty pain in the arse if his expedition fouled up on day one. He wanted to be remembered for something heroic, not for leading his friends into a hopeless dangerous mess.
But that’s exactly what he
had
done …
The alley turned a sharp corner and came to a dead end. A literal dead end – there was a pile of ancient corpses here, lying on top of each other, dried out in the sun at the base of a brick wall.
Courtney cursed loudly. ‘Now what do we do?’
‘We hope they didn’t see us,’ said DogNut. ‘Hope they run past.’
‘No such luck,’ said Marco, who’d been keeping a lookout at the corner. ‘Here they come!’
The kids dropped into a defensive huddle, DogNut, Marco, Felix and Al at the front with Courtney, Olivia, Finn and Jessica behind them. Olivia was whimpering. Jessica put an arm round her and tried to comfort her, but it only seemed to make the little girl wail louder, her thin piercing voice bouncing off the high walls of the alley.
DogNut turned round and told her rather too harshly to shut up.
They waited in silence now, breathing hard, tensed, weapons held out in front of them, watching as the group of sickos came down the alleyway towards them.
Courtney tried to stop her short spear shaking in her hands. She didn’t want DogNut to know just how terrified she was. There was a hotness spreading down her thighs beneath her jeans where she’d wet herself. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball on the floor. But she told herself that she had to stand there. Stand and fight.
As the sickos drew nearer, she was able to get a good look at them. They were young, mostly in their twenties, she reckoned, and for sickos they were fit. Lean and toned and tough-looking. They mostly wore sports gear – tracksuit bottoms or shorts, tight vests and T-shirts – some were half naked, displaying taut, well-defined muscles. They looked for all the world as if they’d just come from the gym. One appeared to have iPod headphones stuck in his ears; another wore a sweat band round his head. Most had the usual covering of boils and sores, but one or two of them looked completely untouched by disease.
They weren’t human any more, though.
It was their eyes that gave them away. They were dead, like sharks’ eyes.
No, they weren’t human. They were animals, intent on one thing and one thing only: catching and eating their prey.
They were also better organized than most sickos. There was a young mother at the front who was acting as their leader. She was bolder than the others, who seemed to be following her lead. She wore jogging pants and had her hair pulled into a crude ponytail. She also appeared to be wearing make-up. It was smeared over her face in a complete mess of eyeshadow and lipstick and pink blusher. Like a little girl who’d been at her mum’s cosmetics.
DogNut didn’t take his eyes off her. He gripped his sword tight with both hands. It was a civil war Roundhead sword, heavy and strong enough to split a skull. He had a breastplate protecting his torso and wore heavy leather gauntlets.
‘We run, I guess,’ said Felix. ‘There’s way too many to fight.’
Marco turned round to see if the road was still clear behind them. ‘Back to the Houses of Parliament?’
‘Or we could go up a side-street,’ said Courtney. ‘Try and get round them.’
‘Good idea,’ said DogNut and they dodged up a smaller road called Broadway, pushing on in a fast jog, their packs rattling on their backs.
As they crossed over the next junction, however, they saw another group of sickos running towards them from the side. The kids swore and picked up their speed, only to find the way ahead blocked by yet another gang so that they were forced to duck into an alleyway that branched off to their left. Things were happening too fast for them to get scared, and as long as they kept moving, they were in with a chance of getting away without a fight.
DogNut was hot and angry. It would be a mighty pain in the arse if his expedition fouled up on day one. He wanted to be remembered for something heroic, not for leading his friends into a hopeless dangerous mess.
But that’s exactly what he
had
done …
The alley turned a sharp corner and came to a dead end. A literal dead end – there was a pile of ancient corpses here, lying on top of each other, dried out in the sun at the base of a brick wall.
Courtney cursed loudly. ‘Now what do we do?’
‘We hope they didn’t see us,’ said DogNut. ‘Hope they run past.’
‘No such luck,’ said Marco, who’d been keeping a lookout at the corner. ‘Here they come!’
The kids dropped into a defensive huddle, DogNut, Marco, Felix and Al at the front with Courtney, Olivia, Finn and Jessica behind them. Olivia was whimpering. Jessica put an arm round her and tried to comfort her, but it only seemed to make the little girl wail louder, her thin piercing voice bouncing off the high walls of the alley.
DogNut turned round and told her rather too harshly to shut up.
They waited in silence now, breathing hard, tensed, weapons held out in front of them, watching as the group of sickos came down the alleyway towards them.
Courtney tried to stop her short spear shaking in her hands. She didn’t want DogNut to know just how terrified she was. There was a hotness spreading down her thighs beneath her jeans where she’d wet herself. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball on the floor. But she told herself that she had to stand there. Stand and fight.
As the sickos drew nearer, she was able to get a good look at them. They were young, mostly in their twenties, she reckoned, and for sickos they were fit. Lean and toned and tough-looking. They mostly wore sports gear – tracksuit bottoms or shorts, tight vests and T-shirts – some were half naked, displaying taut, well-defined muscles. They looked for all the world as if they’d just come from the gym. One appeared to have iPod headphones stuck in his ears; another wore a sweat band round his head. Most had the usual covering of boils and sores, but one or two of them looked completely untouched by disease.
They weren’t human any more, though.
It was their eyes that gave them away. They were dead, like sharks’ eyes.
No, they weren’t human. They were animals, intent on one thing and one thing only: catching and eating their prey.
They were also better organized than most sickos. There was a young mother at the front who was acting as their leader. She was bolder than the others, who seemed to be following her lead. She wore jogging pants and had her hair pulled into a crude ponytail. She also appeared to be wearing make-up. It was smeared over her face in a complete mess of eyeshadow and lipstick and pink blusher. Like a little girl who’d been at her mum’s cosmetics.
DogNut didn’t take his eyes off her. He gripped his sword tight with both hands. It was a civil war Roundhead sword, heavy and strong enough to split a skull. He had a breastplate protecting his torso and wore heavy leather gauntlets.
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