Scott Andrews - School's Out Forever

“These kids in London don’t know it, but they are already our allies. Because they’re us. They’re you and me and her and them, if we’d never found this place. If Matron hadn’t stuck her neck out and fought for us. If Lee hadn’t seen off Mac. If Rowles hadn’t sacrificed himself to keep us safe.

“If not for their efforts, we would be those kids. Scared, alone, fighting a war against kidnappers. Or worse — shipped to America already, where God knows what would have happened to us.

“And how do we repay the sacrifices our friends have made to keep us safe? We hide here and hope the bad guys don’t come looking for us? Well, yeah. Of course Matron and Lee want us to do that. It’s natural. They’ve fought hard to keep us from harm, to create this place for us. They don’t want to risk it or lose it. Of course they want us to stay here and protect this perfect haven they’ve built.

“But the thing is, they’ve also taught us by their example. And their example teaches us a different lesson.

“It tells us that the only safety worth having is the kind you fight for.

“It tells us that sitting around waiting for other people to look after you is asking for destruction.

“It tells us that protecting people weaker than ourselves is the most important thing we can possibly do with our lives.

“They’re out there now, fighting for us. God knows where Matron is, or what’s happening to her. Lee’s dad has gone to London to try and lead a gang of kids against an army that will almost certainly kick their ass. Lee’s gone riding off into potentially hostile territory with a bunch of men who we don’t know he can trust.

“And we’re supposed to sit here and let them do all this for us because it’s what they would want us to do?

“Fuck that.

“Fuck hiding.

“Fuck defences.

“Fuck keeping a low profile.

“If we want to justify what they’ve done for us, we don’t do it by staying here and letting them risk their lives for us again.

“We do it by joining them.

“We do it by fighting for ourselves.

“We do it by going to war.

“We’ve spent all this time looking for allies to help us, and now we’ve found some. But they need our help instead.

“So tomorrow, instead of running all the drills we’ve rehearsed a thousand times, I say we get kitted up, arm ourselves, and take the fight to the enemy. We go to London, we meet up with John and this resistance army in Hammersmith, and we shut these motherfucking nutjobs down and bring those kids here, to safety, where they belong.

“Who’s with me?”

Tariq stood, mouth gaping open in astonishment, as the whole room rose as one and began cheering. Green stepped down from the podium and walked across to him.

“They’re all yours,” he said with a smile.

CAROLINE RUBBED THE sleep from her eyes and sat up.

“What?” she mumbled.

“There’s a man,” said the young boy who had just shaken her awake.

“What kind of man?” she asked, reaching for her jumper.

“Soldier,” said the boy.

Caroline was instantly awake. She pulled the jumper over her head, grabbed her jeans and got to her feet.

“Where?”

“He was at the market just now.”

“Just now? What time is it?”

“I dunno,” shrugged the boy. “Sun’s up.”

“You know the rules about going to the market on your own,” she scolded.

“Didn’t go on my own,” he pouted. “Went with Jimmy and Emma.”

“Who are how old?” she asked, rhetorically. But the boy had stuck out his lower lip and refused to make eye contact.

Caroline shook her head wearily, wondering when she ended up a mother.

“Okay,” she said. “So this soldier, why come tell me?”

The boy sulked a little bit more then finally muttered, petulantly: “He was asking about us.”

“Did anyone tell him anything?”

The boy shook his head.

Caroline reached down and began secreting her arsenal of knives about her person, then she grabbed her shotgun and ran for the door.

THE MAN WAS not very subtle.

It was not uncommon to see people dressed in combat gear, especially these days. But something about the way he wore it told you that it was more than just an affectation. This man was a soldier born and bred; his bearing and body language proclaimed it like a loudhailer. It was something about the way he looked at things. You could see him scanning the environment, calculating routes of ingress and egress, assessing the potential threat of everyone who passed his eye line, turning his body every now and then to make sure his awareness was 360 degrees. He was armed, too, with a machine gun strapped across his chest; his hand was always on it, ready for action.

This man was alert and dangerous.

And looking for her.

She thanked Tom, the potato seller, for allowing her to shelter under his awning as she observed the man, then stepped out into the open square.

The man clocked her instantly, as she’d expected he would. She stood there and deliberately met his gaze, then nodded right, indicating a side street down which she then walked. He followed her a moment later.

They met in the quiet street, surrounded by burned-out cars and looted shops. She had the shotgun raised and ready to fire as he stepped into view.

“Hands down,” Caroline said.

He let go of his gun and let his hands fall to his side. Caroline considered shooting him there and then. Even talking to this man was a risk, but after a long moment she decided to let him speak.

“Who are you and why are you looking for me?” she asked.

“My name’s John. I heard there was an army of kids here, fighting the snatchers. Is that you?”

He had a Midlands accent, and something about his tone of voice made Caroline feel that perhaps he wasn’t the villain she’d been expecting.

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Good. I have news for you. And an offer.”

“I’m listening.”

“At dawn tomorrow you are going to be attacked by the church. They know where you are and they’ve decided to finish you off.”

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“My friends and I captured a bunch of them two days ago. One of them was very talkative.”

Caroline digested this information for a moment, then asked: “Offer?”

“I want to help.”

“How?”

“I’ve got a lot of experience of fighting in urban environments. I can help you, teach you how to give them a very memorable welcome.”

“My mum always warned me to be careful of things that seem to good to be true,” said Caroline. “Why would you do this?”

He shrugged. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

Caroline snorted derisively.

“I represent a place, a safe place,” said the man, undeterred. “A school actually, where a bunch of us look after kids.”

Caroline sneered. “Right,” she said. “And that doesn’t sound at all creepy.” She stared hard at this man, trying to work out if he was telling the truth. Despite her sarcasm, she was surprised to find that her initial instinct was to trust him.

“This school have a name?” she asked.

“St Mark’s.”

Caroline suddenly felt sick. First Matron and now this guy? This was too much of a coincidence. Matron had gone looking for Spider only yesterday. They must have captured her and tortured her until she told them where Caroline and her kids were hiding.

This guy, Caroline realised, was a church infiltrator.

And she knew how to deal with infiltrators.