Afterworlds: The 13th Horseman. Barry Hutchison

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СКАЧАТЬ to be sent back to therapy.

      “No interesting ones.”

      Mum laughed. “Make any friends?” She lifted her jacket from the back of a chair and draped it over her arm.

      “Yeah, one.”

      “Well done! He got a name?”

      Drake felt his cheeks flush red. He knew what was coming next. “She,” he said. “Her name’s Mel.”

      “She? Good grief, that was fast work!” Mum laughed. She threw her arms round Drake and pulled him in close. “First day there and he gets himself a girlfriend!”

      “She’s not my girlfriend,” Drake insisted when his mum let him go again. “She’s just... Actually, she’s a bit... odd.”

      “Odd’s good!” Mum beamed. “Is she pretty?”

      “Mum!”

      “Sorry,” she laughed. “Now, listen, I have to get going. I’m on until half-nine, but the way these buses are it’ll be after ten before I get home, so get yourself something from the freezer.”

      “Will do,” he said.

      “In fact, do you know what?” Mum began. She fished in her bag until she found her purse, then handed him over a tightly folded ten-pound note. “Get yourself a pizza or something.”

      Drake’s eyes went as wide as two six-inch-deep pans. His stomach rumbled at the mention of the word. Those Frosties were just a hazy memory.

      “Pizza? Can we afford that?”

      “It’s my boy’s first day at his new school,” smiled Mum. “We can’t let something like that pass without celebration. The phone’s still not on yet, so you’ll have to go out for it.”

      “Not a problem,” said Drake, tightening his grip round the money. “Can I go now?”

      “You can go whenever you like,” Mum said. “I’m just getting ready and I’m off, so I’ll be out when you get back.”

      “OK. Thanks, Mum. See you later.”

      “See you later,” Mum said. She kissed him on the cheek, and then he was out of the kitchen, through the hall, and pulling open the front door.

      As he stepped outside, his foot caught on something on the front step. He tripped, stumbled and fell with a clatter on to the path. Holding the money tight, he rolled on to his back and lifted his head until he could see what he’d fallen over. His eyes met the eyes of a small, mangy cat.

      Toxie sat on the step, wagging his tail in a very un-cat-like way.

      “Oh, great,” sighed Drake, “it’s you.”

      Jumping up, Drake pulled the front door closed to stop the cat wandering inside and stinking the place out. He stared down at the cat. The cat stared up at him.

      “Right, come on, get out,” Drake said, pointing to the front gate. “You can’t stay in here.”

      The cat didn’t move.

      “Out!” Drake barked, striding along the path and throwing the gate wide open. “Go chase a mouse or something!” He looked down at the cat’s stubby legs and fragile body. “Or an ant, or whatever it is you little guys chase.”

      Toxie sniffed, crossed his front paws on the ground, and rested his head on them. His eyes peered up through a matted fringe of browny-black hair. Every line of his body suggested he had no intention of going anywhere.

      “Right, then,” Drake sighed. He took two large paces forward, then bent down and scooped the cat up. He held it at arm’s length, his face turned away. The stench was almost unbearable. “I didn’t want to do this, but you’ve forced my— Hey!”

      With a sudden jerk of its head, the cat’s rotten teeth clamped round the ten-pound note in Drake’s hand. The animal’s frail body twisted in Drake’s grip, and then it was on the ground, the money still held in its mouth.

      “Give that back!” Drake cried, as the cat scampered off round the side of the house. Drake gave chase, squeezing past the bins and the cardboard boxes that filled the little alley leading from the front garden to the back.

      With a rustle, the cat vanished into the long grass at the rear of the house. Drake plunged in after it. There was no way he was letting that cat run away with his pizza money.

      He pushed through the tangle of weeds and bracken, calling out as he ran. “Get back here. Get back here now!”

      Drake was halfway along the garden when the instinct to give chase abruptly faded. He swished to a stop in a particularly dense patch of jungle.

      What was he doing? He’d come running into the garden alone. Running into the area where he’d seen the shed and the three strange men in it. He’d been so focused on catching the cat and getting his money back that he’d forgotten all about it.

      He listened for the cat, but heard nothing. It had probably already left the garden. His money would be long gone.

      Slowly, so as not to draw any more attention to himself, Drake turned round and made a move back towards his house. The weeds opened like a theatre curtain as he shoved his way through.

      A chill breeze danced across his skin as he stepped into a neatly kept clearing. Toxie sat on the closely cropped lawn, his tail thumping happily on the grass, the ten-pound note still held in his mouth.

      Behind the cat, the shed creaked ominously in the wind.

      

      THE TALL GRASS and weeds whipped at Drake as he high-tailed it away from the clearing. His heart thudded in his chest like a bongo drum made of terror as he frantically tried to put as much distance between himself and the shed as he possibly could. Were the men still inside? More importantly, had they heard him? One thing was for certain: he wasn’t sticking around to find out.

      With a gasp he leaped from the grass, expecting to land on the uneven concrete of the back step. Instead his feet found themselves touching down once more on neatly cropped lawn. The shed stood before him, exactly as it had done a few moments ago. He’d gone round in a circle.

      He turned and surged back into the jungle of weeds. How could he have been so stupid? He wouldn’t let it happen again. Fixing his eyes on the house, Drake made a beeline straight for it.

      A few moments later he spilled out into the clearing. Toxie gave a happy yelp as Drake skidded to a halt on the grass. This was wrong. This was all wrong! Trembling with panic, Drake spun on his heels and darted back towards the high weeds. The men in the shed could be wanted criminals for all he knew. Murderers. Possibly even cannibals, judging by the size of the fat one. He had to get away.

      “Haw, pal, you’re wasting your time,” boomed a voice from behind him. Drake’s stomach bunched into a tight knot of fear and he propelled СКАЧАТЬ