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
Duke laughed. ‘You forgot, not being terrified to drink the tap water.’
‘Is that still going on?’ Julius asked. ‘Are people still sick?’
‘Thousands,’ Duke said. ‘The water is fine, but the centre of town is like a horror movie. People are seriously ill and have no healthcare. All restaurants and most town-centre shops are closed and the people who fled the slums haven’t come back.’
‘Where did they go?’ Julius asked.
‘They piled into any long-distance bus with a seat,’ Duke answered.
Julius checked the time in the corner of his laptop screen and saw it was close to eleven.
‘I need to shift off this bed,’ Julius said. ‘I’m heading to Matt’s place. We’re going go-karting.’
‘Sounds more fun than my day,’ Duke said. ‘Mum’s taking me to a maxillofacial specialist. I’m still getting pain in my jaw. I’ll probably need another procedure, but only the Lord knows where the money will come from …’
Julius thought about the basement safe. Besides the British pounds he’d been gently plundering, there were Euros, dollars, gold ingots, fancy watches, jewellery boxes and other stuff he’d not even looked at.
But Julius had to park these thoughts and get ready.
After a shower, and a fashion crisis, won by black jeans and one of the hoodies he’d bought the day before, Julius rode the underground to Hampstead, where he got picked up by Matt’s mum in a plush Mercedes SUV.
Matt was in the front, so Julius climbed in the back with Matt’s younger brother, Freddie, and his freckled pal. It was Matt’s sister Abi’s fourteenth birthday, and her brothers had been allowed to take one friend each.
The karting track was inside a big warehouse. Abi was a social creature, who’d overdone the make-up. Her crew played with phones and acted out teen dramas that involved lots of Oh my Gods and girls chasing each other in and out of bathrooms.
‘You got any tracks like this in Abuja?’ Matt asked.
‘Abuja’s the capital,’ Julius corrected. ‘I’m from Akure. It’s state election day, so today’s main pursuits will be ballot rigging, followed by a riot.’
Matt laughed as he dug his mitt into a bowl of popcorn. ‘Awesome hoodie, by the way.’
‘Camden, yesterday,’ Julius explained as nine-year-old Freddie and his freckled pal got yelled at for running over a table. Seeing the boys mess around made him miss Gabe.
Julius scoffed hot dogs, corn chips and peanut M&Ms as electric carts whooshed around the indoor track. He got nervous when it was his turn to race. The biggest size crash helmet was a squeeze and his knees splayed awkwardly either side of the steering wheel when he lowered himself into the kart.