Chapters (88)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dear Reader …
- Also by Robert Muchamore
- PART ONE
- Walter J Freeman Adolescent Mental Health Unit – East Grinstead, UK
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- PART TWO
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- PART THREE
- Walter J. Freeman Adolescent Mental Health Unit – East Grinstead, UK
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- PART FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- EPILOGUE
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- Have you read KILLER T?
- 1 SLASHED RUBBER
- 2 NOT HARRY POTTER
Everyone met up at the Red Parrot that evening. Georgia got showered with praise as Zac, Elodie and Wendy watched in-drone test footage and the slow-motion paint splatters Kamila shot on her phone. Afterwards, they moved on to Wendy’s house, where her wife was making curry.
Georgia saw Sam for the first time in ages. She drank a couple of Peronis and stayed until political talk had been replaced by Abba and bad dancing. It was past midnight when she got home, but her brain was too busy for sleep.
She stared at the ceiling above her bed, worried about the upcoming attack and doubting it would change the world. But these rational doubts mattered less than the sense that she’d made friends and belonged to something bigger than herself.
FORTY-SIX
Julius sprawled over his huge bed, next to an Alienware laptop. Its screen showed Duke walking out of his apartment, then holding his phone up to a hallway window, giving a view towards the centre of Akure.
‘Can you see?’ Duke asked.
‘Pic’s breaking up, but I recognise stuff.’
‘It’s Thursday morning,’ Duke said. ‘But it feels like 3 a.m. Everyone is scared to go out.’
‘At least this bastard election will be over tomorrow,’ Julius sighed. ‘Is the media still predicting SJ will win?’
Duke spoke as he walked back into his apartment and snapped bolts on the door. ‘So many votes are fake; I wonder why they bother campaigning for real ones. My uncle was tipped off that the ballroom at the governor’s mansion is storing hundreds of ballot boxes, pre-stuffed with votes for Adebisi. Sunshine Radio says polling stations in Ondo City, where Rotimi’s vote is strongest, have received no voting papers.’
‘Good old-fashioned democracy,’ Julius laughed as he scratched himself.
‘At least I might be leaving,’ Duke said.
Julius looked surprised. ‘Really?’
‘Remi has been offered the job of Africa correspondent for a Dutch TV station. He’d be based in Amsterdam. They can get me an education visa, and the salary and benefits are tip-top.’
‘Sweet,’ Julius said as he grinned and sat up. ‘When did you find that out?’
‘He had an interview last week,’ Duke said. ‘I didn’t want to say until they offered him the job.’
‘That would be so cool, Duke! Amsterdam is four hours on Eurostar. We could see each other all the time.’
‘Get high in every coffee shop!’ Duke said, but his tone hinted at a glitch. ‘Uncle is torn. He has debts and we’re close to losing this apartment. He’d have to abandon his anti-corruption campaign, and he says TV journalism is soul-destroyingly shallow.’
‘Do you think you can persuade him?’ Julius asked.
‘I’m using all my moves,’ Duke said. ‘Imagine, Amsterdam! A cool apartment, a European school. All the art galleries. Skate parks! A million new things to draw …’
‘Electricity that works twenty-four-seven,’ Julius added.