Chapters (69)
The grown-ups kept pace with them, advancing down the hill. Creeping closer. The father in the Saint George vest still at their head.
“Stay together!” Arran shouted.
Then three emaciated grown-ups blundered out from a side street, so starved they might as well have been skeletons. They made a dash toward the little kids to try to separate them from the group, but were swiftly knocked down by Lewis and the Morrisons fighters on that flank. Maxie watched them go into action and was impressed by their skill. Blue had been right: frizzy-haired Lewis might have looked dozy, but he moved fast when he had to, and dealt with the grown-ups ruthlessly and efficiently.
The sudden attack, though, had spooked the little kids. A bunch of them broke away and started to run.
“Stop them!” Maxie yelled, but there was nothing Maeve, Whitney, and the others could do. In a moment the little kids were darting in all directions, and even some of the older kids were starting to run. A bunch barged right past Maxie, who screamed at them to get back, but it was no good.
“Come on,” said Lewis, and he and his team ran after the fleeing kids. “We’ll get ’em.”
As the orderly group broke up, it seemed to give encouragement to the grown-ups. The fat father in the Saint George vest raised his arms above his head, bellowed, and at last they attacked, coming as fast as they were able down the hill.
“Hold the line!” Arran shouted, and the fighters got into position, spears bristling.
Nothing was going to stop the grown-ups; they waddled and limped and scurried onward. The kids watched them getting closer—a hideous row of smashed and diseased faces.
Arran stood fast, Achilleus on one side, Blue on the other, more fighters spread out across the road. Behind them in a shorter line were Ollie and the skirmishers. Silent. Waiting.
19
Closer and closer the grown-ups came until at last Arran gave the order.
“Fire!”
A hail of pellets, stones, and javelins flew at the grown-ups, and as they went down, Arran moved the fighters forward. The first wave of attackers was almost immediately smashed to the ground, and this hampered the rest from getting forward.
Arran spotted Saint George clambering over a body. He took a swing at him, but the fat father ducked just in time.
“Maxie!” Arran shouted. “We need support!”