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Chapters (81)
  1. Contents
  2. Books by Charlie Higson
  3. Praise for Charlie Higson’s writing:
  4. ST GEORGE
  5. Chapter 1
  6. Chapter 2
  7. Chapter 3
  8. Chapter 4
  9. Chapter 5
  10. Chapter 6
  11. Chapter 7
  12. Chapter 8
  13. Chapter 9
  14. Chapter 10
  15. Chapter 11
  16. Chapter 12
  17. Chapter 13
  18. Chapter 14
  19. Chapter 15
  20. Chapter 16
  21. Chapter 17
  22. Chapter 18
  23. THE HUNTER
  24. Chapter 19
  25. Chapter 20
  26. Chapter 21
  27. Chapter 22
  28. Chapter 23
  29. Chapter 24
  30. Chapter 25
  31. Chapter 26
  32. Chapter 27
  33. Chapter 28
  34. Chapter 29
  35. 19 DAYS EARLIER
  36. Chapter 30
  37. Chapter 31
  38. Chapter 32
  39. Chapter 33
  40. Chapter 34
  41. Chapter 35
  42. Chapter 36
  43. Chapter 37
  44. Chapter 38
  45. Chapter 39
  46. Chapter 40
  47. Chapter 41
  48. Chapter 42
  49. Chapter 43
  50. Chapter 44
  51. Chapter 45
  52. Chapter 46
  53. Chapter 47
  54. Chapter 48
  55. Chapter 49
  56. Chapter 50
  57. Chapter 51
  58. Chapter 52
  59. Chapter 53
  60. THE RACES
  61. Chapter 54
  62. Chapter 55
  63. Chapter 56
  64. Chapter 57
  65. Chapter 58
  66. Chapter 59
  67. Chapter 60
  68. Chapter 61
  69. Chapter 62
  70. Chapter 63
  71. Chapter 64
  72. Chapter 65
  73. Chapter 66
  74. Chapter 67
  75. CLOSING
  76. Chapter 68
  77. Chapter 69
  78. Chapter 70
  79. Follow Penguin
  80. THE BEGINNING
  81. PENGUIN BOOKS

‘You won’t leave me, will you, Brooke? You won’t leave me here alone?’

‘No, of course not. I’m with you.’

Macca was in a bed, with clean white sheets, in a clean room. Ed hadn’t seen anywhere this clean, this gleaming white, for ages. It all felt like a dream. A dream of the old days. Norman – Dr Norman Hunter, to give him his full name – was sitting at Macca’s bedside. He’d tried to clean and close the wound, bandaged him up, and had stuck a thermometer in his mouth. He was waiting for the result now, slowly rubbing his dry hands together. The old doctor looked tired, his eyes drooping shut behind his thick glasses. Ed knew that it was bad. He’d read it in Norman’s face when he’d inspected the wound. Macca needed a proper hospital, with serious drugs and proper surgical equipment if he was to have any chance.

Brooke was sitting on the other side of the bed, holding Macca’s hand. Ebenezer stood awkwardly by the window, not sure what to say or do. The other kids, Kyle, Lewis and Trinity, were waiting downstairs in the empty front room. Amelia stood at the foot of the bed, her sister still stuck to her side. Amelia nodded to Norman, who gave her an uncertain look.

Amelia made a hmm noise and came over to where Ed was hovering in the doorway. She touched him lightly on the chest with her fingertips.

‘There’s nothing more we can do here,’ she said gently. ‘We’re just getting in the way. Come along downstairs. There’s a lot we need to talk about.’

When Ed followed Amelia into the front room, Trinity and the others looked at her as if she was an alien. They were still getting used to the fact that there was an adult who didn’t carry the disease. And Amelia stared back at Trinity in a similar way. This was strange for all of them. Amelia’s little companion shrank away from the children, evidently scared.

Amelia plumped up some cushions and settled on to a sofa with a weary sigh, and her shadow sat down beside her, holding on tightly to her hand.

‘I expect there’s a great deal you all want to know,’ said Amelia ‘And there’s much I want to know as well.’ She looked at Trinity. ‘Particularly about you two, my dears. But we shall come to that in good time. Shall I go first?’

‘Please.’ Ed nodded.