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