‘What?’
‘I used to be a star. I used to be a god. They used to sacrifice to me. I lived in a palace. A dark palace. There was no light in there. It was my world. After I’d left the big green this was, must have been … I went to the dark palace. They fed me what I needed. Only the boy came, not the golden one, the mad one. He turned on the lights. He showed me that I wasn’t living in a palace, I was living in a prison. They fed me scraps to keep me happy and told me it was ambrosia and nectar. It wasn’t. It was children. I needed what was in them.’
‘Daddy, don’t. I don’t want to hear. You’ve done bad things, but I never want to hear. They told me how they found you, underground, and how Sam’s friend, The Kid, rescued you. Make it a happy story, Daddy, with a happy ending.’
Wormwood laughed.
‘They got it wrong,’ he said. ‘They were confused. They tried to sacrifice the wrong one. Ha, ha, ha! The stars were calling to them; the shout went out and they got it wrong. The boy there, the one who gave the orders, he’s got the bug in him. He’s halfway to the stars. You’ll see! You’ll see it. But he didn’t listen properly. He didn’t send me the golden boy. He sent me the mad one, madder than me. I so wanted to eat him … I was so hungry …’
‘Daddy, stop!’
‘Darling girl. You’re my angel. You came out wrong, but you were still my girl. I should have loved you. I should have saved you. I should have protected you and instead I became one of them. I let the green in – the bugs and bees and stars went in me until I was mad. I became Wormwood the poison star, out to spread the word, to bathe the world in bad blood. I became the Green Man. And the Green Man can destroy everyone, or he can save everyone, but only if you let them use the boy’s blood in me. Then the Green Man can save the world.’
‘No, Daddy, they’ll kill you.’
‘I deserve to die. I killed so many of them. So many children. In my palace prison under the ground, my dark home from home. And I abandoned you. My own little girl. But you were stronger than you looked. Weren’t you? Look at you. You’re my angel. How many brothers and sisters do you have out there? Around the world. Children of the green. My children. I will do it, for all the children of the world. I will make the blood be good, and it will drive out the bad. You’ll see.’
‘And will it kill you?’
‘I don’t know, darling girl. But I must let them try.’
19
‘You tricked me, didn’t you?’
‘Did I?’
‘You tricked me well bad. Saying I was too scared to come out this way.’
‘So you’re not scared then?’
Will and Finn and Ryan’s hunters were crossing Westminster Bridge towards the south side of the river. This was the route Will had taken with Ed when they’d gone back to St Paul’s to rescue Small Sam. Will could have gone the more direct route, along the Embankment on the north side, but he figured this route had been lucky for them last time.
Stick to what worked.
Whatever the case, there were definitely fewer sickos around. They’d seen none on the way to the Houses of Parliament from the museum, and none since. The streets felt eerily quiet.
‘Scared?’ Ryan grinned at him, his acne-covered face ugly and raw-looking. Maybe that was why he usually wore the horrible mask he’d made out of a sicko’s face.
‘Not scared, soldier, no. I mean, if what Jester was saying back there is, like, the truth then all the – sickos – that’s what we got to call them now, right?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Yeah. So all the sicko bastards is now down Kilburn and this part of town is clear. We’re free to roam. Tell you the truth, bro, I’m well curious to find out what’s out your way. I never gone east since all this started. Those streets were always bad. The dogs was always spooked. But look at ’em now. Chilled.’
Indeed, the dogs were trotting along happily at the hunters’ sides, wagging their tails, happy to be on the move. Sniffing and weeing and doing everything that normal dogs did.
Will hoped they’d stay that way. It meant they were safe.
‘That’s why we call it the no-go zone,’ he said. ‘The badlands. I’m hoping Jordan’s gone in there and cleaned the sickos out. Last I saw of it, it was mental, though. A whole army of sickos was, like, besieging St Paul’s Cathedral. We got to pray they’ve all moved north.’
‘That’s where the greens live?’ said Ryan. ‘St Paul’s?’
‘Yeah,’ said Will. ‘That’s where Mad Matt and his religious freaks hang. Provided the sickos haven’t killed them all.’
‘Is true he tried to sacrifice Sam’s friend?’ Ryan asked.
‘Yeah. Mad times, man.’
Will thought back to that night. When Adele and Tish and Brendan had died holding the bridge. Will had hoped that it had all been for a good reason. That Sam was worth it. With everything that had happened at the museum, the new antidote that Einstein was working on, he reckoned it probably was.
He stared down at the churning grey waters of the Thames. That night the river had been thick with the fallen bodies of sickos, like black seals in the water. And he remembered early days at the Tower. How you’d look out and see the river clogged with crap – dead, bloated bodies, all kinds of rubbish, foam and oil, boats that had slipped their moorings – but it had had a year to clean itself, to dump all the crap out to sea. Must be the cleanest it had been for hundreds of years. A flock of seagulls came swooping and squawking and squabbling. Something splashed in the water. Might have been a fish, might have been anything.
‘We rowed up this way with DogNut on a boat,’ said Finn. ‘If we’d’ve had one now we could have gone back that way. All the way to the Tower. Our boat sank, though. When this is over, we need to get back on the river.’
‘You never tried to go home?’ Ryan asked.
Finn raised his right arm. It was bandaged.
‘I could run but I couldn’t fight,’ he said. ‘Wasn’t any use to anyone. Didn’t want to put mates in danger by having to look out for me.’
‘How’s it now?’ Ryan asked.
‘Nearly better.’
‘Nearly’s not good enough, man!’ said Ryan. ‘You saying you’re still useless? You’re telling me you can’t swing that axe you carrying?’
Ryan was only half serious.
‘I can swing it if I need to,’ said Finn, settling his axe comfortably on his shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t stand back and watch you get killed. I used to be good with a sword. It’s gonna take a bit of practice and a bit more healing to get back to where I was.’
‘Well, you plenty big enough,’ said Ryan. ‘We’ll use you as a human shield, yeah?’
‘Deal.’ Finn laughed.
Will smiled. The weather was holding up. The sky was half cloud, half blue. Not hot. Not cold. A neutral kind of a day. Will hoped it would stay that way. Neutral. Nothing. Nothing to tell anyone. Boring.
They reached the south side of the bridge and started to work their way eastwards. Then they could either cross back over at the Millennium Footbridge, as they’d done before, or carry on along to Tower Bridge. Will decided he’d wait and see what it looked like when they got there. This part of London south of the river had been badly damaged in the big fire and there had always been fewer sickos down this way. The buildings were cracked and blackened, quite a few had collapsed and sometimes the boys had to make their way round piles of rubble and debris.
They’d been walking for about ten minutes when they saw their first sicko. A sentinel. He was unmoving. Like one of those living statues that used to hang around Covent Garden. Arms held out, face tilted to the sky. His skin was grey and ruined and bloodless, stretched tight over his skull. He looked dead. And as they got closer they saw that he was oozing grey jelly from his mouth and nose and several burst boils on his face. The jelly was moving a little. It looked more alive than him.
‘Jelly bugs,’ said Zulficker, one of Ryan’s hunters.
‘You want to ch
op him down like a tree?’ Ryan said to Finn, who smiled but shook his head. His axe stayed on his shoulder.
Zulficker stepped right up close to the sentinel and yelled into his face.
‘You are in our way, sir! Kindly move or I will kick your arse into the river.’
He laughed, and then jumped back as the sentinel opened his eyes. Glared at the boy.
‘Whoa!’ said another boy who moved quickly, cutting the father’s head from his shoulders with a machete. He then walked over to the fallen head, knelt down and started to cut the ears off with a sharp knife. Will looked away.
‘Let’s keep moving,’ he said and they carried on, the boy catching up with them when he was done.
They only saw two more sickos before they got to the footbridge. Sentinels, off in the distance, looking as dead and dry as the first one. When they got to the bridge, they found two kids from the Tower standing at the barricade that guarded the entrance. A girl and a boy whom Will recognized. They were amazed to see him and Finn and they opened the barricade to let them through.
‘We thought you was both dead for sure,’ said the boy, Abdullah.
‘Well, we’re not,’ said Will. ‘Disappointed?’
Abdullah grinned, gave Will a big hug.
‘What is all this?’ asked Finn. ‘What are you doing this far from the Tower?’
‘There’s been some changes around here,’ said Abdullah. ‘Big changes. Come on. We’ll show you.’
And so they crossed the bridge towards St Paul’s. And Will felt safe. Felt like he was nearly home.
20
St Paul’s looked very different to how Will had last seen it. Under siege. Back then the whole area in front of it, and all the way up the wide steps leading to the entrance, had been swarming with sickos. They’d been battering at the doors, trying to get at the kids sheltering inside. As Will and his friends had fought to escape, he’d been sure that they’d never see any of the local kids again. At least not alive.
Will was amazed. Looking around now, you wouldn’t have any idea what had gone on that night. There were no signs of a battle and the locals all looked fit and well and happy in their green outfits. Will had forgotten about the green. How Matt made them all wear it.
He grinned. The area was a model of peace and calm. A row of kids was sitting on the steps, eating, like school kids on an outing. Other kids were walking purposefully in all directions, carrying supplies. The secret to Matt’s success had been discovering a huge underground warehouse stocked with food and other useful stuff. There were several faces Will recognized from the Tower – guard units keeping watch – and there was an air of military efficiency. No sickos were going to get in here and spoil the party.
No, not sickos. What was it Matt called them? The Nephilim. That was it. He’d got the name from the Bible. Matt was obsessed with the Bible. Had written his own garbled version.
Will heard a cry, and there was Hayden running across the road towards them. She crashed into him and gave him a hug that nearly popped a rib.
‘You’re alive!’ she screamed into his ear and he laughed.
‘So don’t kill me,’ he said. ‘You’re crushing me.’
When Will and Ed had carried on into town, Hayden had been sent back to the Tower to let Jordan know what was happening. Will was relieved to find her alive and well.
Hayden let him go and looked at him, then gave the same treatment to Finn. Who winced as she squeezed his sore arm. She even hugged Ryan, who looked very uncomfortable. He had his armour of leather and fur and studs. He was the big man on the street and didn’t want to show any vulnerability. Will knew the armour was as much to keep other kids out as it was to protect him from sickos.
Will began to explain everything that had happened since they’d left her on the South Bank that night. And when he was done it was her turn to tell him what had happened here.
‘Jordan Hordern got an army together,’ she said. ‘As soon as it was light, we marched. Matt was just holding on inside. It was bare nasty, there were just so many sickos, but Jordan managed to drive them off. We should go to the Tower. He’ll be pleased to see you.’
‘Really?’ said Will. ‘Pleased? I’ve never seen him show any emotion.’
‘OK, yeah, maybe not pleased. Let’s just say “interested”.’
‘That’s the best we can hope for. But there’s more. A lot more I need to talk to Jordan about. I’ll tell you on the way.’
As they headed off towards the Tower, Hayden pointed out where they’d strengthened and repaired the barricades Matt had built to keep the sickos out, but also where they’d made an opening and a protected walkway, so that there was a safe route all the way to the Tower, with newer barricades blocking off the side-streets.
‘The no-go zone has gone,’ she explained. ‘But in fact, to be honest, nearly all the sickos have disappeared from around here. We hardly ever see any. We’ve been shifting a lot of the supplies back to the Tower. Matt doesn’t like it, but he had no choice. Jordan made it clear when we showed up to save Matt’s bony arse that there was a price to pay. Quite a lot of the cathedral kids have moved in with us as well. It’s only really the full-on religious fanatics who stayed behind. Matt comes up to the little church at the Tower to hold prayer meetings sometimes. It’s weird. Like the world’s going back to normal.’
‘Funny kind of normal,’ said Will and Hayden smiled.
‘It’s good,’ said Hayden. ‘Can’t you feel things changing for the better? Like we may be winning at last. Getting rid of the sickos.’
‘Well, I hate to burst your bubble, girl,’ said Will. ‘But we didn’t come here on the tour bus to go sightseeing.’
‘You came to burst my bubble.’
‘To burst everyone’s bubble. You know how Jordan’s always wanted to be a real general, in a real battle? Well, there’s a shitstorm coming, Hayden. And we’re going to be right in the middle of it.’
21
General Jordan Hordern was sitting in the council room in the White Tower that stood at the centre of the castle. He’d made sure he was settled in his big throne before any of the others arrived. He hadn’t wanted them to see him groping his way up the stairs and across the room. Only his two young helpers, Jim and Hugo, knew how bad his eyesight had become. And they were scared enough of him to keep their mouths shut. The centre of his vision was a brownish-grey blur so that he could only see round the edges if he looked at things sideways.
On one level he didn’t mind. The world in his head was much neater and more ordered than the real world. There weren’t so many distractions this way. The universe was made of numbers. If he just knew what the numbers were everything was fine. But he still needed to be able to fight. He was meant to be a warrior, a leader, a general. How could he lead an army if he couldn’t see? How could he command any respect? If the kids here knew they’d probably try to get rid of him. There’d be a struggle for power. He mustn’t show any weakness.
Jim and Hugo had helped him get seated, and had murmured in his ear as the other kids who made up the war council had come in, telling him who they were. Not that he really needed to be told. He had a pretty good idea because he insisted that everyone always sat in the same place. Everything always had to be the same or he got uncomfortable. But, even so, he wanted information. He needed to be informed of everything going on around him. He needed control.
‘And this lot are the boys who went with Ed to the museum,’ said Jim. ‘Will and Finn.’
‘Who’s that with them?’
‘They call themselves hunters. They look like good fighters.’
‘Oh yeah. Hayden told me about them before. What they look like?’
‘Pretty crusty,’ said Jim. ‘Some of them have masks made out of the faces of dead sickos. They’ve got dogs with them as well. A pack of them. Big bastards.’
‘Dogs?’ said Jordan. ‘We could do with some fighting dogs.’
‘I don’t reckon they’ll sell you any of theirs.
’
‘We’ll see. I want to talk to them after. Sort it for me.’
‘OK, boss.’
Jordan was thinking. With a dog at his side, he’d be safe. A dog could be a real help and would make him look tougher instead of weaker. Nobody would question him having a dog. They needn’t know that he’d be using the dog’s eyes.
At last everyone was in place and settled. Jordan turned to the blurred silhouette that he recognized as Will.
‘So you got news for us?’ he said.
‘There’s a war coming.’
Jordan liked Will. He was smart. Didn’t muck about. Knew that Jordan always wanted to get straight to the point.
‘A war?’
‘If we’re lucky then maybe not a war, but at least a battle.’
‘You saying if we win the battle the war’s over?’
‘Yeah,’ said Will. ‘But if we lose …’
‘We’d better win it, then. So who exactly do we fight …?’
And Will told him everything, Jordan listening carefully. Taking it all in. Remembering the names. The numbers. Storing all the facts. He was good at that.
‘I’d been wanting to push west,’ he said once Will was finished. ‘As soon as I was sure the whole area between here and St Paul’s was safe, I was gonna send troops into town to find you and Ed and everyone. I guess now we need to move quicker than I thought. If this goes right we can unite the whole of London.’
Jordan was thinking fast, plans forming in his head, supply lines, battle plans, rows of soldiers, neat and orderly. He could see London as a vast map, with people moving around on it. In his mind it was simple and clear. And what had to be done was simple and clear as well.
It was time to start giving orders.
‘Tomoki, you’ll be in charge here at the Tower, yeah? It’s quiet round here now, ’specially if what Will says is the truth. You stay here with all the non-fighters. Be safe inside the walls. I’ll take everyone else. I’ll take an army and we’ll march on Buckingham Palace and I’ll be the liberator of London.’