She started to walk the bike along the driveway, looking away but remaining alert for any sudden movement behind her.
“I’m talking to you. Give me that bike.”
Sure enough, he lunged for her. She’d been expecting it. She turned as his fingers coiled around her upper arm and roundhouse-kicked him in the balls. No sense in aiming higher and losing her balance when a low, easy blow was just as effective. He crumpled over, wailing.
“Stupid bitch.”
Annie wanted to roll her eyes, but she was too stunned. This was just the start. She hurried up the driveway, fumbling in her pocket for her keys. At least the men who’d been hanging around the green were gone.
She unlocked the door and hefted the bike inside. She unlocked the flat and shuffled in. There was no way she was leaving the bike outside now. She locked the door behind her and collapsed onto the floor.
Her hands were shaking.
You can take care of yourself, she told herself. Stop freaking out. You dealt with him.
But it was cold comfort and she knew it. She was one person. All she had was feet and hands and two stolen knives still in their packaging. That idiot out there wasn’t the problem. What if there had been five of him? Or ten?
Somewhere out there, there were thousands of others who had only ever followed the rules because of the threat of being arrested. That threat was gone now. How long until they realised the true potential for lawlessness?
Annie shook her head as she tried to comprehend the challenge she faced. Cycling two hundred miles wasn’t the problem—she’d done seventy miles in a day before. Other people were the problem.
She shook her head, almost ill with worry. She’d been so busy thinking about how fast she needed to cycle and how much water she’d need, that she hadn’t considered the bigger question.
Would even she survive the journey home?
15. Pete
Pete lay awake staring at the ceiling. He’d been lying in the same position since he went to bed the night before and as far as he could tell, he hadn’t slept a wink.
How could he?
It had been almost dark when he got home the night before, so he’d been spared having to look his brother in the eyes. Then, of course, Josh had produced some old lantern he’d found. Pete had gone to bed early, as if sneaking off could reverse what had happened at the gym.
He’d heard them downstairs, speaking in terse voices that floated up to him every now and again when the noise outside died down.
The noise. He blinked. It was starting to get bright now and the worst of it had stopped. People had been howling all through the night. About what, he didn’t know.
He was antsy now; almost jumping out of his skin. He wished he could just fall asleep and ignore the problem hanging over him.
He sighed when he heard Josh's bedroom door slam. His door opened a moment later. It looked like he was going to have to face reality sooner than he’d hoped.
“Haven’t you heard of knocking?”
“Get up. You have to come with me.”
“What?” Pete asked, surprised. He’d spent the whole night thinking about how he was going to say that exact thing to his brother.
“Have you forgotten everything I told you? We need to go to the Home Warehouse. We really should have gone yesterday only you ran off and stayed out until it was nearly dark. Come on.”
Pete stayed put. If anything, he shrank further under the covers.
“Come on. What are you waiting for?”
“What’s the point, Josh? If someone wants to get in here, they will.”
“We’ll make it harder for them. Anyway, that’s not the point. We have to at least try and defend ourselves. If you won’t do it for me, do it for Mum. She’s terrified.”
Pete closed his eyes. Guilt and shame rushed through him. Instead of making sure his mother was alright, he’d rushed off to try and score points with Harry. He took a breath. He didn’t have time to feel guilty. “I can’t. We can’t.”
“What do you mean, we can’t? That’s bullshit. Of course we can. All we need is plywood and nails.”
“That’s not what I mean—”
“What did you mean then?” Josh face screwed up in anger, which was rare for him. He was the master of snippy little comments but he rarely raised his voice. “Come on, Pete. Haven’t you put her through enough? It’s different now. It’s time to step up. You’ve been a waster your whole life, but things have changed. You don’t need to be a hero, you just have to get off your arse and do something worthwhile for a change.”
Pete sat up quickly, cheeks blazing. “What the fuck gives you…” The fight left him almost as quickly as his temper had flared. Fighting wouldn’t help. What was the point? It would only make it harder to convince Josh, and that was already going to be impossible. Might as well just say it.
He exhaled sharply. “We can’t go out. I went to see Harry last night.” He couldn’t meet Josh's eyes as he said this, but he didn’t need to watch his brother to know his response. The atmosphere in the room changed as soon as he said that name. He could almost feel Josh’s disapproval washing over him.
Josh said nothing.
Because he didn’t need to.
“I don’t know why, okay? I just thought…” he wished the ground would open up underneath him and suck him into the middle of the earth, bed and all. The urge to cover himself with the duvet and curl up into a ball was as strong at that moment as it had been when he was a kid listening to his parents fighting in the next room. “It doesn’t matter.”
“I don’t see how this is relevant to us securing the house,” Josh said icily.
You might as well say it. He’ll never agree anyway. “I told him everything you told me. And he guessed it was you who told me. And… and…” Pete closed his eyes.
“And what?”
“He wants to see you.”
“What?”
“He wants to see you.”
Josh stomped across the room and dragged the duvet off him. “I heard you the first time. What I wanted was some kind of explanation as to why the biggest gangster this side of London would want to see me? I’m a banker, Peter. Not a fucking petty criminal.”
Pete recoiled as if he’d been slapped. Josh never talked like that; never.
He sighed. “Please, Josh.”
“What? No! Didn’t you hear me? I don’t associate with people like that. I have nothing in common with him. Why on earth would he want to see me? I’ve never spoken to the man. He doesn’t know me.” His eyes narrowed. “What did you tell him about me?”
“Nothing!” Pete wailed. “I said nothing! I told him what you’d said but I never said where I heard it from. He guessed it was you.”
“How could he guess? He doesn’t know me.”
Pete shrugged helplessly. His brother was standing over him now and he’d never seen Josh so angry. In a strange way, he wanted him to lose it and beat the shit out of him. That might make him feel slightly better about what he’d gotten them into. “He knows everyone around here. You know that. That’s what people say about him.”
“I’m sick of hearing about him! People around here talk about him like he’s a god. He’s just another scumbag. Is that really who you want to look up to?” He flung his hands up in the air. “Jesus Christ, Pete. What’s wrong with you?”
“There’s no point in arguing. He wants to see you, Josh.”
“So? Fuck him. I’m going to get stuff to board this place up. Come on.”
“We can’t go out there! He’ll take it as an insult if you’re seen going off to a DIY centre instead of going to see him like he asked.”