‘We’re trying,’ said Justin, accepting DogNut’s joke with a smile. ‘When we’ve got more time I’ll take you round to the Science Museum next door. That might be more interesting to you. Everything we need to rebuild the world is in there. Scientific instruments, medical instruments, tools, machines, vehicles … The only stuff we’re lacking is chemicals, drugs, that kind of thing. If we had more troops, we could do it, but we can’t spare the manpower at the moment.’

‘We’d ask the hunters to get it for us,’ said Einstein, ‘but they’re not the cleverest kids on the block. It’d take too long to explain what we’re after. We need to mount an expedition, really. If we only had a good team to protect our scientists and doctors.’

‘You’re not real scientists and doctors, though, are you?’ said DogNut. ‘You’re just kids.’

‘This is all just a big joke to you, isn’t it?’ said Justin.

‘No.’

‘Have you taken on board anything we’ve said?’

‘Yes.’

‘So have you got any questions?’

‘Yeah … What’s ascorbic acid?’

‘What?’

‘You said before about how you had to make sure all the kids got enough ascorbic acid, and it’s been bugging me ever since.’

‘Is that all you’ve taken in?’ Justin asked.

‘I’m a slow thinker. Slow but steady.’

‘It’s basically vitamin C,’ said Einstein. ‘Animals make it in their bodies or else they die from scurvy. Humans, and some other animals, like guinea pigs, have lost the ability to make their own, though, and have to get it from their food.’

‘Thanks. So now I know.’

‘So now you know,’ said Einstein.

DogNut stared at the hard-working kids at their equipment. This wasn’t a world he understood. And so it wasn’t a world he liked. He longed to be back out on the streets with a weapon in his hand, not having to think about things, only worrying about staying alive, fighting, killing and returning home a hero.

He was beginning to think that it had been a mistake coming here. He’d found Brooke, but she obviously didn’t give a toss about him. Girls weren’t really impressed by fighting when it came down to it. Only boys. And the boys here …

He sighed. No. Brooke didn’t give a toss about him, or his plans to take over this place.

Who was he kidding? He couldn’t run this place. He gave a snort of laughter.

‘What’s so funny now?’ asked Justin wearily, expecting the worst.

‘Nothing,’ said DogNut. ‘I think I might just take a look around if that’s cool.’

‘Of course.’

DogNut strolled through the lab, staring dumbly at the busy kids, not having a clue what they were doing. He wasn’t cut out for this. He didn’t want to be in charge of these dorks.

He didn’t want to be in charge of anything. He couldn’t handle being responsible. Having kids on his watch die, like Leo and Olivia. He had more in common with Robbie than he’d cared to admit. Sometimes it was better to be number two. There was no shame in it.

Number two.

Well, number three.

Maybe he should just go home. Back to the Tower. He’d at least be a bit of a celebrity there. Respected. The guy who broke out. The guy who crossed London and brought back news of the outside world.

He wandered through to another lab and was surprised to see Finn sitting at a workbench, two girls fussing around his infected arm.

‘What you doing up here with the geeks?’ DogNut asked, happy to see a familiar face.

‘I’m getting my arm properly fixed up.’ Finn smiled at his old friend. ‘These people are good.’

‘These people are weird,’ said DogNut.

Finn chuckled. ‘I like it here.’

Before they could say anything else a breathless little kid came running in, red-faced and worried.

‘Where’s Justin?’ he called out.

‘He’s through there,’ said DogNut, pointing back the way he’d come.

‘What’s the matter?’ asked one of the girls who was tending to Finn.

‘It’s Paul. He’s gone mental.’

44

Paul was in the middle of the main hall at the museum, in front of the fossilized diplodocus. He had his knife in his hand, still bloody from when he’d attacked the Collector. The blood had dried into a blackened crust. To DogNut he looked absolutely crazy. Circling round, threatening anyone who came close, his face twisted out of shape by rage and despair, soaked with tears. Snot ran into his mouth where sticky saliva made little wires and tendrils between his teeth.

He was alternately shouting and sobbing, the words garbled, disjointed, staccato, punctuated by sobs and shuddering intakes of breath as they spilt out of him.

‘You let her die that that thing that awful that fat thing uh you let him take her you you you all of you you let her uh die you’re all to blame all of you look at you you’re uh happy aren’t you? Living here cosy and happy and stupid and happy because she wasn’t your sister she was uh my sister that thing that fat thing didn’t take your sister uh I know what you think I know I can hear your thoughts yes you didn’t know that I can hear all of you what you’re thinking I know you’re laughing at me behind my back uh yes you laugh that I should be sad but she was my sister my little sister uh just so small she was coming back to me coming here my sister but you wouldn’t let her come would you you all wanted to kill her because it’s funny to laugh at me you you uh you you don’t want me to be happy you’re none of you my friends Olivia was my only friend and you’re all so happy that she’s dead I can see you uh laughing … I can hear you … I know you …’

DogNut watched as Justin tried to talk him down, but he was obviously completely out of his depth. Justin knew about things, about science and maths and inventions, but he didn’t know too much about people. What made them tick. He had no idea how to help Paul. DogNut wanted to wade in and slap Paul, tell him to pull his crap together and not be so dumb. He needed to be jolted out of his madness before he hurt someone, or more probably himself. The events of the day and the argument earlier with Justin by the lorry had obviously tipped him over the edge. DogNut had seen it happen to kids before. Something inside them snapped and they flipped out, retreated into madness. He often wondered why more kids didn’t end up like this, the things they’d been through, the things they’d seen, the friends they’d lost. He wondered why they weren’t all gibbering wrecks. He supposed that some kids just had a different gene inside. A survival gene.

How could Paul blame anyone else here, though? It had nothing to do with the other kids in the museum. If anyone was to blame, it was DogNut. He’d abandoned Olivia, not these confused nerds.

He held back, however. Figured it wouldn’t be good form to start beating up on one of theirs. Instead, a concerned ring of friends had formed round Paul and they were all coming out with the sort of useless, meaningless babble they’d seen on TV programmes like Big Brother.

‘We do care for you, Paul …’

‘You’ve got a right to be angry, but not at us …’

‘Let it out if it makes you feel better …’

‘We all feel your pain, Paul …’

That was a good one. DogNut for one didn’t feel Paul’s pain. He had enough pain of his own to deal with, thank you very much.

He recognized a few familiar faces. There was a bunch of smaller kids, including Wiki and Jibber-jabber, Zohra and her little brother, Froggie, in a huddle at the back, whispering to each other, a couple of them actually sniggering, no doubt as a way of coping with the unsettling weirdness of Paul’s behaviour.

And there was Kwanele, the dressing-up dude, looking extraordinary in some kind of embroidered Japanese or Chinese robes. Brightly coloured and with an ornate gold and silver sword in an elaborately decorated scabbard hanging from a belt at his waist. DogNut had noticed several kids with these swords and assumed they’d looted them from the Victoria and Albert museum over the road. They looked like they were more for show than battle.