‘I know.’
‘And besides, we can’t just tip up somewhere with a great green sicko. “Hiya, guys, meet Shrek.” We’ve got to be careful about this.’
‘That’s why we need to spend tomorrow planning,’ said Kyle and he let rip with a beery belch. He went over to Wormwood. He’d only downed two bottles, but he looked drunk.
‘Oi, sickbag,’ he said. ‘You gonna play the game?’
Wormwood just stared at him. Hadn’t said a word since they’d arrived.
‘Or are you gonna be trouble?’
‘He won’t give you any trouble,’ said The Kid.
‘He better not. But listen to me, Green Man. If we have to move you in daylight we will, you get me? No argument. You can keep that blanket over your head if you want, but you do as we say.’
‘I’m not a fan of the sunlight,’ said Wormwood. ‘But I will behave.’
Kyle leant close to him. ‘You ain’t gonna try and eat any of us in the night?’
‘We’ll take it in turns to keep watch,’ Ed said. ‘Two of us at a time.’
‘Ed … ?’
Ed cut Sam off, trying not to get angry.
‘Listen, Sam. We’ve gone out on one for you, OK? All this is for you. We’ll find your sister. Don’t fret. We’ll find her. One more night won’t make any difference.’
Sam’s face crumpled and he began to cry.
‘What if she’s dead?’
Ed held him.
‘Everything’s going to be all right, little man,’ he said. ‘This is all going to be over soon.’
Dylan stood up. Ed could see the pain in his face as he put weight on his bad leg.
‘You know what,’ he said, ‘I think I’ve got some sweets somewhere. Let me see if I can find them.’
‘Yeah,’ said Kyle, shoving his beer bottle into Wormwood’s hands and his bowler hat on to his head. ‘Let’s have a party!’
Sam began to laugh. Wormwood looked so ridiculous and surprised.
The Kid joined in, then Ed and Dylan, and soon they were all laughing. And, just for that moment, everything did seem to be all right.
77
St George finished the piece of meat he’d been chewing on. Seemed like he’d been chewing on it all his life. He swallowed the lump. Felt it struggle down his throat into his burning stomach. The meat had tasted good. Always did. Filled him up with light.
All around was his army. They’d come to him. So many now, their strength flowed into him. They were one beating heart. And each thump shook the darkness from his brain. Let more light in.
They were all him and he was all them. One single mind, spreading out all around. He was spreading, eating the world. It was all his. He was making some sense of it. Chewing it over, like the meat.
It was like this.
There was him. There were two of him and there were thousands of him, millions …
Did that make sense?
He’d been here a long time. He understood that now. He was a sort of god, wasn’t he? Fallen from the stars. Fallen into all that green. He’d lived for all time in the jungle. Why had he forgotten that? The memories were all there inside him.
He’d been king of that world and now he would be king of this one. All he had to do was destroy the last of them. The young ones. They were the only thing that could stop him. With them gone, the world would be his.
Oh, but they tasted good. Nothing tasted better. When he’d been a butcher …
When was that then? Was that before or after he’d lived in the jungle? It was confusing. He remembered his boy. His Liam. Some other boys had done something to him. Taken him away.
Something like that.
Something.
It was confusing all right.
He’d been a butcher and he’d loved his Liam. Liam had been different. Wouldn’t never have done anything to hurt Liam. The other ones, they were just … meat. And he knew all about meat. He was a butcher.
He snarled and pressed his hands tightly on either side of his head. Felt an itch. His eye throbbed. He rubbed it. Something came out. He felt with his fat fingertips. There was a tiny lump, trapped under his lower eyelid. He picked at it. Looked at his finger, at the thing wriggling there, grey and shiny, like a maggot. He squeezed his eye and more wrigglers came out from the corner. He licked his fingers.
Where was he?
He wanted to get this straight.
Take it slowly. It was painful. All these thoughts and memories coming back to him after so long. Like bubbles rising in a pint of beer. He had to get strong, and clever, so that he could do what had to be done. He could sense them there, the young ones, warm and soft. He would march on them when he was ready.
Far, far away he could hear his brothers singing. A great many of them. They were getting closer. At times in the night he’d hear it very strong. One voice louder than all the others. One clear voice. Calling out.
Wasn’t sure about that one. Might need to have words.
Because he was the boss, wasn’t he? And his people … They were a swarm of flies. That was it. Insects. With angel wings. They were locusts. And they would swarm. Like before.
When they were ready.
When all was ready.
When he was too strong to be beaten.
He smiled and in the darkness three hundred other grown-ups smiled with him.
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Charlie Higson, The Sacrifice
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