Breakdown (5 page)

Not that I want
him
beaten.

‘I really ain't going to hit you,' says Lenny and he rolls the bar even further away to show me he ain't.

‘I wish you
could
get away, though,' he says, quite unexpectedly. ‘If you could, I'd go wiv ya.'

I look at him then, my eyes open despite the smoke. ‘What'd I want to take a kid like you for?' I say.

He shrugs. ‘Don't know,' he says. ‘You mightn't.'

‘You're damn right.'

There're some ideas you have to kill dead.

Lenny sighs. He scratches the dog's head, lifts up one of its ears and whispers into it, ‘You'd like to go wiv me, wouldn't ya?'

Then he just carries on watching me with those eyes in that face on that scraggy neck, like he really thinks there's some kind of paradise that I can escape to and am refusing to take him there on purpose.

I sigh and look out over the stadium. It's very dark. They're still shouting and drinking at the far edge. I wish I could sleep. I wish I could curl up in an even tighter ball and never wake up.

But the kid's got me thinking. I could escape. Maybe not right now, but tomorrow, when it's light, when the dogs have gone to ground. Maybe at dawn. What I need to do is find out how. I remember what Careem said to Tarquin: ‘
You get to take her back and have her for the rest of tonight. After that I've got something else in mind.
'

Maybe Tarquin won't come back and I can give this kid the slip.

But if Tarquin does come back and thinks I'm gonna be so grateful he pulled me out of the river that I'm gonna be his for the night, he's got another think coming. And if he tries it on by force, I'll kill him.

I really will.

But then again, maybe he might help me. He did pull me out of the river and he did say: ‘
If your legs work, get up and get going.
'

It's Careem who's gonna be the biggest problem.

‘What time do the gangs get back?' I ask.

‘At dawn, Miss.'

‘What does Careem do with girls like me?'

Lenny shrugs.

What would Nan tell me to do?

I think of Nan and her life: and how as a girl she had everything and how she lost everything, including everyone she loved, except me.

She survived though. And her favourite advice was always, ‘Think first.'

Oh Nan.

I try to think. How big is this place and how much do I know about it? I try to remember.

Nan told me how the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park was the new jewel in the Crown of England. How it cost the country hundreds of millions of pounds. How it featured myriad colours and all the colours whirled to form wheels in pinks and blues and greens and oranges that changed throughout the stadium as they were picked out in paintwork, glass, fabric and lights.

Doesn't look anything like that now.

Raw sewage running down between the seating aisles, sheds and shelters of rusty tin, plastic sheeting for roofs, people curled up on rubbish heaps, men drinking, children sifting through trash looking for God knows what.

Holes full of shit.

Vicious tracker dogs.

Thin, starved faces.

‘Why don't you wanna take me, Miss?' asks Lenny.

‘There isn't any place to take you to,' I say.

‘I could help carry things,' says Lenny.

‘What things?'

‘Any things you want me to carry.'

‘You're not coming.'

‘But there is somewhere, ain't there, even if you can't take me?'

‘And I haven't got “things to carry” if that's what you're thinking.'

He tilts his head to one side as if he knows better. ‘There's the farm.'

I roll my eyes. ‘The covered farms are not nice,' I say. ‘They're prison camps.'

‘No, not them,' he says. ‘The little farm.'

‘Look,' I say, ‘you don't want to end up in a covered farm.'

‘I mean the little farm in the north.'

I haven't got a clue what he's on about so I just say, ‘Everywhere outside London's got radiation.'

‘I know.'

‘No you don't,' I say.

He goes quiet.

‘It can strike you down, just like that, and all your hair'll fall out and you'll shrivel up and die and that's it.'

He sucks in his cheeks.

‘There's no cure for it and nobody's working on one, neither.'

‘I know.'

‘No you don't. Nobody survives radiation once they've got it.'

‘I know. My mum didn't.'

That stops me dead. I should have known. His mum.

I look at him. His bottom lip's trembling. He keeps glancing across the racetrack and then back at me.

‘He'll be all right,' I say. ‘They didn't really have big knives.'

He nods.

‘We'll
all
be all right. Me too. I'm always all right. I'm stubborn like that.'

Immediately he looks more cheerful. ‘I knew you was going to be OK, Miss,' he says.

Well, that's nice of him I suppose. And it's true. I
am
going to be OK. I'm going to get out of here and go home. Whatever stupid plan these gangers have ‘in mind' for me.

And that makes me smile. The first smile since Nan died. I out-sparked them, didn't I? So I know I can get away, plus I don't care. I don't care if I live or die right now. And that gives me power.

So I crouch there thinking, slowly drying out by those embers, listening to the slight crackle of charcoal burning down and the noises of the ghetto.

I'm not going to do anything to suit them.

Not me.

Not while I got a tongue in my head and a brain to think with.

A wailing starts up outside the arena. Right by the stadium gate. The howl of dogs. The sound of tin pans suddenly banging.

‘It's Quinny, Miss,' says Lenny, his face suddenly alight. ‘He's back and the pack are on him.'

I straighten up. Rub my eyes. The fire's only embers. I'm dry. Nan's coat's dry. I pull it back on. ‘The pack are on him?'

‘The dogs, Miss. Trying to stop him getting through.' Lenny's already on his feet and doing a little dance on the spot. ‘Me and her is going to go and help.' The brindle bitch jumps up as well.

‘OK.'

Just as Lenny is about to leave, Kaylem reappears.

‘Leaving?' he snaps.

Lenny's face falls. ‘Quinny's back,' he says. The dog bolts away. Lenny remembers. He's supposed to guard me. His dance changes. No more hopping. Now he shuffles slowly on the spot.

Kayem shrugs. ‘Well, lucky for you, I can take over.'

Lenny's eyes widen. A look of relief. Quickly followed by a look of alarm. Kaylem isn't trying to be helpful.

‘Go on.' Almost a smile from Kaylem.

Lenny looks at me, looks at Kaylem, starts running anyway for the stadium gates.

Kaylem chuckles. It's not a nice noise. I wish Lenny hadn't gone. Small as he is, he'd have been there.

‘All on your own now, are you?' says Kaylem, as if he can read my mind.

And without any further ceremony he lays a hand on my arm and drags me upright. Our eyes meet, just for a second. His lips part. I can read what's in his eyes.

I scream.

Lenny stops, turns, catches the picture of us there, Kaylem's hand on my arm, dragging me.

‘Get,' yells Kaylem.

Lenny turns away, runs fast towards the gate.

‘Now you,' says Kaylem. ‘Let's see how much boom you got.'

I look at him, balance, twist my arm free. I start to back away, clutch my coat around me. I take two steps back. Behind me two gangers suddenly appear from nowhere. They close in. I stop. No way back. I look from them to Kaylem. No way forward.

I'm trapped.

The two behind drive me on. Kaylem smiles, his arm ready with an iron bar. I stop. I let out one shrill cry. A hand from behind descends over my mouth. I bite down, but it's clamped too tight. Someone kicks my knees out. I half-fall, stagger. I try to drag Nan's coat even closer.

‘Not here, you clods,' snaps Kaylem. ‘Drag her to the south end. Then beat it. Cover my back.'

Two of them grab my shoulders, hold my elbows in, pin me against them. They drag me, kicking, away from the fire, towards the darkened edge of the racetrack.

Where the light stops, they stop. They leave me. I struggle to my feet. Kaylem comes in close, grabs my hair, drags my face up.

‘I wanna see the look in your eyes when I do you, boom-ting,' he says.

The other two snigger.

‘Get lost, you lot,' snaps Kaylem.

They move off. Like a flash I try to step away. But Kaylem
holds me. Pulls my hair. It's so painful I cry out. My scream is swallowed in the darkness. Cries drowned out by the clamour. My heart stops. His hand goes over my mouth. I kick. There's no time to think. I try to hit out.

With one savage motion Kaylem kicks my feet out from under me. I'm falling, thrashing. I'm flat on the grass. My head hits the racetrack with a crunch. I hear my skull thwack. He tries to kick my legs wide. But I fight. I kick back. I rip at him.

‘Come on,' Kaylem says in an excited tone. He leans his weight on my chest. ‘Tell me how you like it.'

He grabs my hair tighter and twists my face to meet his. Then he slaps me hard, flat-handed around the curve of my head.

‘Don't you like our little game?' he says.

I spit in his face.

‘Little ho.' He laughs. ‘Let's see how much I can make you hate it, then.'

He pulls my hair taut.

I can't twist.

‘You know what I want.' He grabs at my coat, starts yanking it open. I struggle. He leaves the coat and slaps me harder. The violence catches me by surprise. My eyes water. I try to kick. He forces me flat and kneels astride me, pins me down. He's heavy, too heavy. He stinks of alcohol.

‘I'll kill you if you touch me,' I hiss. ‘I swear to God.'

He just laughs. Then he reaches for the coat hem. Roughly tugs it up. I can't fight. I'm no match for him. If I could hurt him, scratch out his eyes, find some weapon  …  I flail my arm around, search for a stick or piece of stone.

‘Sparky.' He laughs. He tugs at my jeans and pulls hard on the fistful of hair, so I arch back. He fumbles at his own jeans.

I can smell his breath. I can smell his stinking boozy breath.

‘Let's take a look.'

I jerk my head. My hair tears out. His hand loosens. His grip slips. I wrench my head round. I scream loud. It rips out of my throat. Then I bite his wrist.

He leaves the jeans, finds my throat. With one squeeze, I'm choking. I can't breathe. My head spins.

There's a blur in the darkness.

I'm gasping and choking.

But someone is there.

And Kaylem is wrenched aside.

His weight crushes me. His hand lets go of my throat. I gasp for breath.

‘Let her go. She's not your spoil.'

It's Tarquin.

Kaylem grunts. ‘What's your problem? Don't want me to get in there first?'

I feel a force seize him off me, feel the impact of foot on flesh, hear the crack of something hard on soft tissue. A belch of air escapes from Kaylem's lips. I smell it, foul, stinking. Then he shrieks, high-pitched.

The weight of him suddenly gone. The night air, cold, welcome.

‘You broke Dog's Law,' says Tarquin.

Kaylem can't answer. He seems winded. I sit up, drag Nan's coat back around me.

My fingers trembling.

‘You broke Dog's Law. If Careem don't deal with you, I will.' Tarquin's voice is deep and dangerous.

‘You – deal with me?' Kaylem's voice, breathy, acid.

‘Get moving.'

‘You can keep your Dog's Law and your bitch.' Kaylem staggers to his feet, sucks in air, then stays there, doubled up. ‘Watch it, Tarquin,' he breathes. ‘You shouldn'ta done that.'

‘Move.'

‘You've started something now.'

‘
Va te faire foutre, trouduc
,'
hisses Tarquin.

‘I'm warning you.'

Tarquin doesn't answer again. Instead he's at my side. Kaylem moves off, threats under his breath.

‘You OK?' Tarquin says.

I stay quiet. I don't trust myself to speak.

I roll slowly to one side, try to lever myself up. Tarquin crouches beside me, staring at me. He reaches out his hand to steady me. I clutch it.

‘You got back,' I whisper. My voice shaky.

‘I got back.'

The night seems to swirl around me.

‘Did he hurt you?'

I don't answer. Suddenly I remember – ‘Lenny?'

‘He's OK.'

‘Don't go.' I keep hold of his hand.

‘OK.' He moves in close, puts his arm around me.

I sit there, trembling, trying to get control of myself. My throat tight, hoarse from screaming. I cough. I swallow. It hurts.

Tarquin raises his hand to my face. Gently wipes my lip. Flicks his eyes to mine, holds them for a second, looks away.

‘Lip's bleeding,' he mumbles.

I nod. My heart hammers. ‘I bit it.'

‘He hit you.'

I nod.

Tarquin's jaw tightens. He mutters something beneath his breath. I think he says ‘
Batard, branleur
.' He's swearing in some ganger tongue. Then I hear him say, ‘ …  and you so beautiful.'

I let myself lean against him.

‘I'll get you somewhere safe.' He pulls a rag from his pocket. ‘I'm sorry,' he says. Then gently, ever so gently, before I can flinch away, he wipes my lip and cleans the blood and dirt off.