The End

  That was all a long time ago. Shadowman had grown into a tough, mean survivor. Jester got by on his wits. He wasn’t a fighter. If Shadowman was out for revenge Jester was going to have to talk him out of it. Sure, he could probably have done more when they’d been attacked on the railway tracks behind King’s Cross station. But survival was key. Survival was all.

  ‘We had no choice,’ he said.

  ‘So you left me for dead?’

  ‘Yeah, but you’re not dead, are you? Unless you’re a ghost or a zombie or something – wouldn’t put it past you.’

  ‘You always were funny.’

  ‘So all this thinking you’ve been doing?’ said Jester, not wanting to let Shadowman get the upper hand. ‘About what you were gonna do to me. What was the conclusion? Is this it? You were gonna have a nice friendly chat, shake hands and make up?’

  ‘I thought of a lot of ways to hurt you, Jester.’

  ‘Listen,’ said Jester. ‘It wasn’t just me back there. I had to look after the others. Staying to help you would have put them all in danger. It wasn’t my fault. Wasn’t my fault you got in the way when I was swinging my club. You want to blame someone, blame the bloody strangers.’

  ‘Don’t blame you, yeah? None of it was your fault?’

  ‘No. I was just trying to survive, Shadow. Save the group.’

  ‘Save the group? I thought you were the only one made it back here,’ said Shadowman. ‘The others? Tom and Kate and Alfie. What happened to them?’

  ‘Kate and Tom left me, if you really want to know,’ said Jester. ‘Never saw them again. Alfie was killed by strangers. I tried to protect him.’

  ‘All dead then. Well done. You’re a hero.’

  ‘I did my best. Come on. How many kids have died? You know how hard it is out there.’

  ‘Took me a while to get back,’ said Shadowman. ‘Got a bit mashed up on the way. And when I found out you were alive …’

  ‘Yeah, I know. You thought of a hundred and one ways to give me a hard time. Jesus, Shadowman, this isn’t school, this isn’t the good old days; this is now, this is dog eat dog, this is survival of the fittest. The rules have changed. You were concussed. I made a decision. If I’d stayed to fight we’d have all been killed.’

  ‘As opposed to everyone else getting killed but you surviving?’ said Shadowman. ‘If you’d helped me I could have helped you all. Tom and Kate and Alfie might still be alive.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ said Jester, figuring that attack was the best form of defence. ‘You could really have helped us. You couldn’t even stand up. Be serious, man. And besides, look – here you are. You made it back in one piece. Except for your limp. You all right?’

  ‘Sprained ankle. Nearly healed. Can’t go too fast, though.’ Shadowman paused, looked away down the road. ‘I came to a conclusion in the end, you know,’ he went on.

  ‘About what?’ As if Jester didn’t know.

  ‘About what to do with you.’

  ‘Yeah? Better be good.’

  ‘You didn’t like it out there, did you?’ said Shadowman. ‘In the real world. Outside your palace walls. The world of the strangers.’

  ‘Sorry. Was I supposed to like it?’

  ‘You know, if I didn’t hate you so much I’d quite like you.’

  ‘Nice.’

  ‘So you wanna hear it?’

  ‘Not particularly. Listen, Shadowman.’ Jester’s throat had gone tight and dry. This wasn’t going to end with a fist bump and ‘no hard feelings’. He started to back away, ready to make a run for it. Wishing now he’d told the guards to come with him. Not that they’d have been much use against Shadowman.

  Well. Jester’s happiness hadn’t lasted very long at all this time, had it? He’d been fooled by the sun and the peaceful atmosphere. The world was still crap.

  ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘OK. You’ve made your point. I’m sorry you blame me for what happened, yeah? I panicked. As you say, I’m not used to life on the streets. I’m not you. I’m not a hero. I’m just an ordinary kid. And maybe I messed up that day. Fine. Mistake. Apology. So I’m going back inside now.’

  Shadowman lifted up a crossbow that was hanging from his belt, hidden by his cloak. The tip of a thin, sharp bolt was sticking out of the end.

  ‘I haven’t finished,’ said Shadowman, his voice flat and calm.

  Jester didn’t take his eyes off that cruel steel point.

  ‘You wouldn’t …’

  ‘I would. Of course I would. You said yourself this isn’t school. Times have changed.’

  ‘Shadow …’

  ‘Haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve said?’

  He raised the bow and aimed it squarely at Jester’s gut. ‘You hear me out now. Try to walk away and I fire this into you and that’s that.’

  ‘Oh, come on. Really? This is your plan that you’ve spent weeks thinking about? You shoot me with a crossbow?’

  ‘No, this is just insurance. To make sure you listen to me and do what you’re told.’

  ‘Go on then,’ said Jester. ‘Surprise me.’

  ‘You noticed how there’s no strangers around here?’

  ‘Yeah. Blue skies, Shadow. Things can only get better.’

  ‘You think? There’s an army out there, Jester. An army of strangers. They’re massing. That’s why you don’t see any. They’ve all gone north. After you left me at King’s Cross I stumbled across them. Tracked them across London. They weren’t so many at first, but they grew, more and more of them, became a bigger and badder army. They’re organized as well, in a way you wouldn’t believe. They must be pretty near unstoppable by now. I had to leave off tracking them when I nearly busted my leg. Only just made it back into town. But now my leg’s nearly better. Can’t go as fast as I’d like, but it’ll do. Thing is, I need to get back out there and find where they are, find out what’s happening, where they’re heading. You see, if it’s as bad as I think I’ve got to come back and warn people. We have to get organized, but for that I need information, I need up-to-date news.’

  ‘And you want me to pass this information on for you?’ said Jester. ‘Is that it?’

  ‘Yeah. That’s it.’

  ‘Well, I can do that. You come straight to me when you get back.’

  ‘Yeah, but my ankle’s not quite strong enough yet for me to risk going it alone. I need help. I need a right-hand man.’

  ‘You don’t mean …?’

  ‘You and me, old buddy, heading back into the badlands. I’m going to show you first hand what we’re up against. Might help you deliver the message more forcefully, you know, more convincingly. And this time you won’t be able to leave me behind because it’ll be just the two of us. I’ll be the only thing keeping you alive.’

  ‘What if I say I don’t want to come?’

  ‘Then I shoot you in the guts and you die a long, slow, agonizing death, smelling of shit.’

  ‘Hmm. Decisions, decisions …’

  ‘I’m glad you think this is a joke. But I’m warning you. The army out there? It’s not a joke on any level.’

  ‘OK, listen. I’ll need to get my stuff together.’

  Shadowman swore at him and Jester stopped talking.

  ‘You know I’m not stupid,’ Shadowman went on. ‘You go through those gates, Jester, and you won’t come back out again.’

  ‘Look, Shadow, I can’t just go off like this. No other clothes, no weapons, no food or water.’

  ‘No make-up and security blanket. I’ve got all we need, except a change of boxers.’

  ‘No, listen, Shadowman, no way. OK? No way am I just walking off up there now.’

  ‘Wanna bet?’

  ‘You try and force me, they’ll see you from the palace. They’ll come out and rescue me.’

  ‘Those two dozy bastards? They can try. When did they last leave the palace grounds? You think I’m scared of them? No, you and me, we’re going to take a nice easy jog over the road into Green Park, and then we’re gone. All being well, w
e’ll be back by dark. Of course, if it all goes tits up you’ll never be back and they’ll all wonder whatever happened to Jester, the way he disappeared like that. Oh well, never mind. Survival is key. Survival is all. We’re all right. Let’s forget all about him and his stupid patchwork coat. Now walk.’

  ‘No.’

  Jester suddenly rocked back, his whole head singing, his cheek burning. It took him a moment to work out that Shadowman had hit him. Slapped him hard round the face. Jester swore and Shadowman hit him again, too fast for Jester to react, to protect himself.

  ‘Stop it,’ he said, his voice sounding more whiny than he would have liked. There were tears in his eyes. He wasn’t used to being hit.

  ‘No,’ said Shadowman. ‘I’m not going to stop it, not until you understand what’s going on here.’

  ‘All right. I understand. You go. I’ll follow …’

  Wham. Shadowman hit him again and now the tears had left Jester’s eyes and were crawling down his cheeks. He felt ashamed of them.

  ‘You go, I’ll follow,’ said Shadowman. ‘And I’ll have this crossbow aimed at your back every step. You know I never miss. That’s how I’ve stayed alive. Head for the gates over there. Walk steadily, not slow, not fast. Anything you do that I don’t like you’ve got a crossbow bolt sticking out of your arse.’

  Jester had no choice. He started to walk. Legs trembling, knees weak. His back muscles twitching and clenching, expecting at any moment to feel a sharp jolt in his spine. Tears of self-pity stinging his eyes.

  9

  Maxie was trying not to stare at Wormwood. She couldn’t help it. He was just so freaking weird. Covered from head to foot in a fur of green mould, he wore only an old blanket, loosely wrapped round his body, and a stupid green bowler hat, his long, stringy hair hanging down from underneath it. He had very pale eyes and, if they looked at you, you felt it. Like he thought you were nothing, less than nothing, a tiny speck of dirt, even though he himself smelt pretty awful. He had long yellow fingernails that he liked to click together, making a dry rattling sound. Justin, who was in charge here at the museum, had asked him several times to cut them – everyone has asked him to cut them – but Wormwood refused. It was difficult to get him to do anything. He was sitting there now, his hands dangling between his knees, fingers wagging, fingernails clicking. Click-click-clack. Maxie wasn’t going to tell him to stop, even though it irritated the hell out of her, and put her on edge. She didn’t want to risk him turning those old, cold eyes on her. She was keeping a safe distance. He was, after all, a grown-up. And for the last year the kids had killed any grown-ups on sight. The alternative was to let them eat you. OK, so you could have a conversation with this one, but the sickness was still in him. He wasn’t to be trusted, and he was never allowed anywhere without an armed guard.

  So far Wormwood had behaved.

  He hadn’t attacked anyone.

  But the kids hadn’t got this far by being sloppy. Right now Maxie and Blue and a big-nosed kid called Andy they’d picked up at Buckingham Palace were guarding him. Maxie had her katana at her side. It was sharp as a razor. If Wormwood decided to get jiggy it would be a race between her and Blue to see who could gut him first.

  Wormwood’s favourite place in the museum was the Darwin Centre in the orange zone, a modern addition to the museum that housed several laboratories. A science nerd called Einstein ran the place. Maxie didn’t like Einstein much, but had to admit that he was probably the cleverest kid she’d ever met. He and some other smart kids were trying to find out how the disease worked, whether there might be a cure for it.

  Wormwood was helping. His real name was Mark Wormold apparently, and he’d been a biologist before he got the disease. Had worked in a research centre called the Promithios Institute. When he could focus, when he had a window of sanity and stopped spouting nonsense, he talked fairly rationally to Einstein about his work. Maxie had got used to grown-ups being drooling idiots, so it had been a shock to find one like Wormwood who could talk and think and appear sane for brief spells. Well, not exactly sane – insane would be closer to the truth – but able to communicate at least.

  So here he was. In the labs, trying to act like a scientist. It was unreal. Right now he was deep in conversation with Einstein. Maxie didn’t understand a lot of what they were talking about and she reckoned Einstein was pretty much in the dark as well. Much of what came out of Wormwood’s mouth was pure gibberish. Somewhere in the stream of nonsense there was sense, though, there were facts about the disease, if only Einstein could figure it out. The one phrase that Wormwood kept coming out with was, ‘Good blood will drive out the bad.’

  ‘I know, I know,’ said Einstein, shaking his head. ‘You’ve said it a hundred times. But what does it mean?’

  ‘You must listen to me,’ said Wormwood.

  ‘I am listening.’

  ‘No, you’re talking. Always talking. Just be silent and listen. Hush …’ He put a bony finger to his lips, stared at Einstein, who looked away. ‘You’re like the bugs back in the big green, buzzing, buzzing, buzzing, never sitting still, never listening. Impossible to have a conversation with bugs.’

  ‘And there you go again,’ said Einstein. ‘The big green. You always come back to the big green. The big green this, the big green that. The big green what? The big green giant? The big green house? The big green bogey?’

  ‘And there you go again,’ said Wormwood. ‘Always talking, never listening.’

  ‘He means the jungle,’ said Blue. He hadn’t looked like he was really listening. He never did. He looked bored most of the time, not interested. A hard man. But there was a lot more going on inside him than he let on.

  ‘Don’t pretend you weren’t there when the Twisted Kids told us all about it,’ Blue went on. ‘About where the disease came from. About the rainforest. South America. The jungle.’

  ‘That’s one theory,’ said Einstein. ‘I don’t have to believe it.’

  ‘Feels a whole lot like the truth to me,’ said Blue, and he turned to Maxie and the others. ‘There was a tribe, the Inmathger. They had the disease, only they’ve never met any other humans, and when they did – pow! It spreads all over before anyone can stop it. Wormy here was one of the scientists who was out there studying them. Carried the sickness home with him. Ain’t that right, Wormy? You was out there in the big green?’

  ‘I was there for thousands of years,’ said Wormwood without looking at Blue. ‘And before that I was a Starchild. And look at me – I still am a star.’

  He did a little prima donna thing, raising his chin and combing his hair back on one side with his fingernails.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ said Blue, shaking his head.

  ‘Bang goes your theory,’ said Einstein. ‘Unless we accept that our Mister Wormold here is thousands of years old and came from outer space or something.’

  ‘Just because some of it’s bullshit,’ said Maxie, ‘doesn’t mean it all is.’

  ‘But how do we separate it out?’ said Einstein. ‘How do we know which bits of it, if any, are the truth?’

  ‘He definitely worked in the rainforest with the Inmathger,’ said Blue. ‘For Promithios. You should properly talk to the Twisted Kids some time, Einstein. They know stuff.’

  ‘They give me the creeps,’ Einstein said dismissively.

  ‘Yeah, well, I’m sure you give them the creeps an’ all,’ said Maxie. ‘You give me the creeps sometimes.’

  ‘That’s because I’m creepy.’ Einstein laughed. He had thick skin. You could say what you liked to him. To be honest, he was slightly weird-looking as well, with his mad hair and yellow teeth. He didn’t have any social skills, but it obviously didn’t bother him.

  ‘I’ve talked to the Twisted Kids too,’ Maxie went on. ‘They grew up in the institute. Blue’s right. You should be asking them stuff.’

  ‘As they tell it,’ said Blue, ‘Wormold came home and when his wife got pregnant the disease mucked up the embryo and Fish-Face came out.’
r />   ‘Very scientific, I’m sure,’ said Einstein. ‘You should write a paper: “Mucked-up embryos leading to fishness of the face”.’

  Maxie sucked in her breath. Einstein could be a real douche sometimes. Didn’t worry at all about hurting anyone’s feelings. Blue wasn’t about to let Einstein get to him, though. As ever, he showed nothing.

  But Maxie was glad Fish-Face wasn’t there. She was the Green Man’s daughter. She had a bizarre flattened head, her eyes forced round to the sides. Maxie didn’t even know what the girl’s real name was. It felt demeaning to call her Fish-Face, but that’s what she chose. ‘The Twisted Kids’, as they called themselves, carried their mutations with pride. Blue said they even had their own song, but Maxie hadn’t heard it. Wasn’t sure she wanted to.

  ‘If you don’t listen,’ Blue said to Einstein, ‘how you ever gonna learn?’

  ‘Theories, theories, theories,’ said Einstein. ‘There’s no proof in any of this.’

  ‘Didn’t Einstein have a theory?’ said Blue. ‘The real Einstein? You gotta start somewhere.’

  ‘Well, let’s start in the big green, shall we?’ said Einstein. ‘Up the jungle without a paddle.’

  ‘I was there,’ said Wormwood. ‘In the big green. I was there before I was the Green Man. I was there when I was wormwood the poison star, fallen from heaven.’

  ‘Wait, stop, let me get this down,’ said Einstein. ‘This is scientific gold.’

  ‘What is wormwood anyway?’ said Blue.

  ‘It’s a poisonous plant,’ said Einstein. ‘Artemisia. Brings on hallucinations if you eat it.’

  ‘I reckon he must have eaten a whole forest of it,’ said Blue, looking at the Green Man.

  ‘It’s in the Bible as well,’ said Andy. Maxie had forgotten he was even there. She saw that he had a little Bible open in his hands. He must carry it around with him. She’d had no idea he was a God-botherer.

  ‘The Book of Revelations.’ Andy turned a page and began to read. ‘The third angel sounded his trumpet, and a great star, blazing like a torch, fell from the sky on a third of the rivers and on the springs of water – the name of the star is Wormwood. A third of the waters turned bitter, and many people died from the waters that had become bitter.’