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
‘The union have always controlled the precinct,’ Duke explained breathlessly. ‘If the area boys are going to try and take it, it means all-out war on the streets.’
Julius was more concerned with the injured woman than the politics. He helped her up, then grabbed the larger of her two frightened toddlers. Hundreds of shoppers were fleeing the precinct. Julius found himself funnelled into an alleyway, between market stalls, getting tilted by the crowd as owners frantically tried to pack away their stock.
There were two more bangs and an eruption of car alarms. The kid in Julius’s arms wailed as Julius looked back to make sure Duke and the boy’s mother had kept pace. The first police siren wailed as Julius almost stepped on an elderly woman who’d fallen and twisted her arm.
‘My bike’s here,’ Duke said, cutting out of the stream of bodies as they reached a fork in the road.
Julius looked behind for the mother, who mouthed thanks before taking her child back and hurrying on. Duke went down on one knee to unlock his bike.
As Duke kicked his scooter to life, Julius looked back towards the precinct. At least one large shop was ablaze. Swirls of dark grey smoke rose from smashed market stalls and the victorious area boys had made his name into a war chant.
Adebisi, Adebisi!
Victory, victory, Adebisi!
THIRTEEN
Everyone shopped at the Pegasus Centre on the edge of town. Even at Saturday lunchtime, the old High Street behind the train station was lightly populated and the family butcher where Georgia’s nan got her meat had Going out of business in the window.
Red Parrot Books was sandwiched between a Cancer Research charity shop and the boarded frontage of a short-lived bagel place. Georgia felt wary as she pushed a door with a big Boycott Amazon sign in the window.
The heating inside wasn’t doing much. There was a musty smell, in a space too small to be anonymous. Georgia found herself confronted by a table stacked with copies of Socialist Worker, Support the Living Wage mugs and busts of Karl Marx moulded from recycled vinyl.
The cafe was on the first floor, up stairs with a wobbly bannister and layers of peeling stickers. It had a greenhouse roof, chairs that didn’t match and three toddlers rumbling over grubby beanbags where the sloped roof was too low for grown-ups.
‘You found us!’ Zac said brightly, catching his knee on a table as he stood from behind a half-drunk soy cappuccino. He pulled Georgia into a tight hug. ‘Sorry it’s short notice. The hospital keeps changing my shifts.’
Georgia shrugged. ‘I was just sat at home.’
‘How are you feeling?’ Zac asked.