'Third stable on the right, darlin',' said Blackteeth. 'Tell you what, when you're done you come find me. I've got a bottle of real wine in my bunk. Been saving it for a special occasion.'
I turned my back on him and walked towards the stables, tugging the kids behind me. Rowles slipped and fell on his face. I didn't look back or break my stride; I just dragged him through the mud until he regained his footing and staggered after me. I imagined his collar was really chafing by now.
The courtyard ahead of me was deserted. I knew there were at least three guards behind me at the gates, but I didn't turn to see if there were more. The main farmhouse stood at the far end, three storeys high. Tattered curtains hung from dusty windows, some of which were shattered. The kitchen door was open and I got an impression of movement inside. To my left was a large derelict barn, its roof fallen in; to my right stood a row of brick stables. A large truck was parked awkwardly in the far left corner, its engine idling, the exhaust fumes misting in the chill morning air. That was a statement in itself – who had enough fuel to waste it warming up a lorry cab, even on a morning this cold? I knew exactly what its cargo would be, but after long weeks of investigation I still had no idea where it was going.
I thought about knocking but decided I'd make an entrance, so I walked into the stable, dragging the children behind me. The man behind the desk jumped slightly and reached for the pistol that lay in front of him, but relaxed when he saw that it was only me. He leaned back in his chair, his great blubbery weight threatening to topple him backwards at any second. This was Olly.
'What bloody kept you?' he asked as he returned his attention to the thick rare steak he was eating, held in a piece of old newspaper.
'Ask your guards. More interested in flirting than doing business.' I looped the chain and the rope around a hook on the wall, and shoved the two children to the floor. I sat in the chair facing Olly and put my feet up on his desk.
Careful, I thought. Don't overdo it.
'The reason I want to do business with you, Olly, is 'cause you're such a class act,' I said.
It took him a moment to realise what I meant, and then he laughed, his thick lips parting in a strangled wheeze, revealing half-chewed raw meat. He thrust the steak towards me.
'Want some?' he offered. 'Fresh kill.'
'Thanks, but no thanks.'
'Suit yourself. Talking of fresh meat, what do we have here?' He levered himself out of his chair and waddled around the desk towards Rowles and Caroline. Both of them cowered against the wall, a pathetic sight in their tattered, muddy rags.
'The boy's eleven, been living rough,' I said. 'Girl's twelve. Untouched, if you can believe that. They're a bit scrawny but they're healthy as far as I can tell.'
Rowles put his arm around Caroline's shoulder as Olly leered at them.
'Don't worry, C,' Rowles whispered. 'I won't let him hurt you.'
Olly leaned down and grabbed Rowles' chin in his greasy fingers. He got very close indeed and hissed into the boy's face: 'Of course I'm not going to hurt her. I'm most gentle, me. Break her in all carefully, I will. You too, if you're good.'
Rowles spat in Olly's eye as Caroline sobbed and buried her face in his shoulder. Olly snarled and raised his ugly paw, ready to strike the boy, but I leapt up and grabbed the man's wrist. It was so thick I couldn't even get my fingers around it.
'You don't lay a finger on either of them till I get my payment, fat man,' I said.
He turned to me, teeth bared. But his raw meat snarl changed into a grin, he wheezed his laugh again and lowered his hand.
'There's no hurry, is there?' He looked down at the pair. 'I'll have plenty of quality time with these two when you've gone, won't I? No need to rush.'
I let go of his arm and he moved back to his side of the desk and sat down again. I followed suit. He took another bite of steak, tearing the flesh off and chewing sloppily.
'Price is fixed, as discussed,' he said. 'Go see Jonny in the big house, he'll sort you out. If you make a habit of bringing me good stock like this I'll make it worth your while. Any more where these came from?'
'Plenty, but I can only take them one or two at a time. Don't want to get caught. The villagers might not take kindly to me pinching their kiddies.'
'Can't imagine why, little runts.'
'But you'll be moving them soon, won't you? 'Cause they might come looking for these two.' I tried to sound conversational, barely interested, but I knew immediately that I'd made a mistake. He looked across at me, suspicious and threatening.
'What do you care?' he demanded.
I pretended to think about this, then shrugged and rose to my feet. 'I don't. Just curious. Jonny, yeah?'
'Jonny. Yeah.'
'See you around, Olly.' I didn't look back at the two children as I left.
I crossed to the farmhouse door, which was still hanging open, and casually glanced back at the gates. The high brick wall was solid, so they felt secure in here. Apart from Blackteeth who was outside the metal doors, now closed, there was a guy on a ramshackle scaffold inside, looking out over the flood plain to the south. He had a shotgun over his shoulder. A third man lounged on a damp sofa inside the doors reading Oliver Twist. He also had a shotgun, but his was sawn off.
Two inside the doors, one outside. Then Olly in the stable and Jonny in the house. Might be more, though. But where?
I walked into the farmhouse kitchen. The smell was appalling. In the centre of the large flagstone floor was a wooden table, around it six children of varying ages. All of them had ropes looped around their necks, binding them together in one long chain. They sat there, eyes dead, faces white, most with black eyes or thick lips, dressed in clothes either too big or small, mechanically eating porridge from bowls. I doubted any of them had seen soap and water for at least a month.
Again, Kate's gran came to mind. I had a sudden flash of her cooing 'Poor dears', spitting on to her hankie, and wiping all their faces clean with saliva. Kate used to hate it when she did that. God, she used to squirm. Looking back, it seems like the gentlest act of kindness imaginable. Small acts of kindness, that was what the world was missing these days.
I forced my attention back to my situation. I was distancing myself from it, retreating into my head, rambling. It's a trick I learned the first time things got bad, back before The Cull. It had come in handy once or twice since.
But I couldn't afford to absent myself now. I needed to stay sharp. Anyway, I wasn't the one in danger, not really. I wondered where these children had gone to in their heads. I was pretty certain none of them were entirely present any more. I looked into their eyes and I thought that this was how I must look when I zone out. Like a victim. That made me sad and angry to my core. I held on to the anger, focused it, concentrated, brought myself back.
I am nobody's victim. Not any more.
An interior door swung open and a scrawny teenage boy walked in. His face was a battlefield of acne and bum fluff and he dragged a young blonde girl behind him on a rope. Thirteen at the oldest, her face was streaked with tears and snot. His belt was still unbuckled.
I didn't give him time to react to my presence. I was around the table and my arm was around his neck so quickly he didn't know what was happening. He was unconscious before he had a chance to open his mouth. It took all my willpower to relax my grip – it was so tempting to squeeze the life out of the sorry bastard. I wanted to kill him, I felt justified in killing him, even righteous.
But I hadn't let the horror overwhelm me, so I wouldn't let the fury take me either. If I succumbed to either I'd lose myself, and there were children here who needed me.
The boy stopped struggling and his eyes rolled back in their sockets. I relaxed my grip and gently laid his head on the floor. I ran back around the crowded table and closed the door into the courtyard. No-one had raised the alarm, so the struggle hadn't been seen.
I turned back and found six pairs of eyes staring at me with distant curiosity. One boy was still eating, so far gone that he didn't even register what was happening around him. The young girl who had just entered was staring
