He was the only Giant who had a legitimate reason not to get up early and wield a sword. But nonetheless, he did have one. God forbid he’d ever have to use it.
“Oi! Bird boy,” a loud voice called from across the room. “Gimme that bowl will ya? I’m bloody starving over here.”
The voice belonged to Pax – the Giants’ regular loudmouth.
“Hey Nadia,” Pax said, leaning forwards and grabbing the fruit bowl. He picked out one of the fat, dark grapes and held it aloft, rolling it in between his forefinger and thumb. “Don’t you think it’s kinda weird? You not liking black grapes. You know what I mean girl?”
Nadia rolled her eyes.
Pax giggled while his hand dipped into the fruit bowl, rummaging around and touching everything until he found something that he liked. He was in his early thirties, with broad shoulders and a military style buzz cut. To Walker’s amusement, he spoke in a high-pitched, almost caricature East London accent.
“Is that your best joke?” Nadia said. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”
“Hey!” Pax said, shovelling a handful of grapes into his mouth. “I’m not being racist, I’m just making an observation. Ain’t that right Soop?”
Pax thrust the bowl into the hands of the skinny teenager sitting to his right.
Sooper always sat next to Pax. Pax had found Sooper as a starving, dehydrated ten-year-old kid wandering the streets of London, a few months after Piccadilly. Sooper’s parents and big brother were dead and there he was, doomed to wander the streets until something terrible grabbed a hold of him. But it was Pax who found him and he’d taken the boy under his wing, becoming both a father and older brother figure in the years that followed.
Walker found it hard to envision Pax as a saviour. But he’d saved Sooper’s life – no doubt about it. Sooper was nineteen now and although he worshipped Pax, Walker could see that he was more sensitive and intelligent than his brutish idol. He was a good-looking kid with a long, lean build and mousy blond hair. As he sat across from Walker, his eyes flickered back and forth across the room, nervous and alert.
“C’mon Nadia,” Sooper said, giggling behind the back of his hand. “It’s not like we’re racist or anything.”
“Listen to the kid!” Pax said, pointing a thumb at Sooper.
Pax looked at Sooper, scrunching up his brow.
“You alright Soop? You’re shaking.”
Sooper nodded. “Cold,” he said. “That’s all.”
“I’ll second that,” Pearl said, looking at Achilles. “It’s freezing in this goddamn school man. It’s actually making me feel sick.”
“Have some tea,” Nadia said. She pointed to the steaming mug in front of Pearl. “Drink it quick. It’ll warm you up.”
Walker took a sip of the hot tea in front of him. But tea wasn’t going to keep them warm for long. It was looking more and more like there was a hard winter ahead of them and Walker didn’t like the thought of being stuck inside the school and feeling such an intense level of cold all the time.
He’d already spoke to Kojiro about the possibilities. About doing something to fix the problem. In particular, he’d brought up the idea of trying to build some sort of fire, either inside the school or outside. That idea was quickly vetoed and not for safety reasons or anything to do with being able to safely build or contain a fire indoors. Kojiro told Walker in no uncertain terms that Achilles had a crippling fear of fire. Although he didn’t go into details, Kojiro hinted that something had happened in the aftermath of Piccadilly. Walker got the impression that Achilles had seen something that day, one of the many horrors that all survivors had picked up. He’d seen something that he couldn’t ever forget. The details didn’t matter anymore but it left the Giants with a major problem.
Kojiro told Walker that the only chance they had was to find an electric heater somewhere. Easier said than done, but Walker knew he was right. The electricity supply within the school was good and in a small room like the Living Room, they might have a chance of being comfortable with a small but steady flow of heat. But finding a working electric heater in the winter was like finding gold nuggets floating on the surface of the Thames.
“We can’t go on like this,” Kojiro said, putting his breakfast plate down. “We have to find something. We have to at least try.”
“Yeah good luck with that,” Pax said, wiping a dribble of tea off his chin. “All those heaters were bagged a long time ago man. Pity you guys didn’t grab one when you started this gang. Now we’re destined to freeze our arses off. The Freezing Giants, that’s our new name. Right Soop?”
“Right,” Sooper said.
Achilles glared at Pax, then went back to his breakfast.
A short silence followed.
It was broken by the sound of Pax and Sooper giggling like restless schoolboys at the back of class. Walker looked up from his half-eaten breakfast, just in time to see Pax puling the zip of his jeans down. Then, with a lewd grin on his face, he shoved his phone through the gap at the crotch.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Pearl said, looking over in disgust.
“Sending the good people of Great Britain my best wishes,” Pax said, still grinning from ear to ear.
“With a dick-pic?” Pearl asked.
Sooper was laughing uncontrollably.
“Fuck sake Pax,” Nadia said. “I’m eating breakfast. Put it away for the love of God.”
Pax laughed – a high-pitched, ear-piercing cackle that made Walker wince.
“Stop pretending you’re not excited Nadia,” he said, adjusting the phone that was by now buried deep inside the crotch tunnel. “You too Pearl. My knob always looks better in the morning. Fresh and unspoiled by the ravages of the day.”
“In your dreams babe,” Pearl said. “You’ll be lucky to even find it in these temperatures.” She turned her attention back to her own phone, lifting the screen closer to her face as if to block out the sight on the other side of the Living Room.
Pax squinted his eyes.
“You playing Magic Birds on that thing?” he asked
“I sure am,” Pearl said, not looking up. “Just downloaded the latest version. According to the map, there’s an Anzu in the area. The map says it’s located somewhere on Birchanger Road. I don’t know about you guys but as soon as I’ve finished breakfast I’m going Anzu hunting. You in Nadia?”
“You bet darling,” Nadia said, her finger sliding across the screen of her phone. “I’ve just upgraded to the same version. I’ve got the Anzu in sight. Birchanger Road, right enough. Let’s bag it and take home seven hundred points.”
“What the hell is an Anzu?” Achilles said, looking back and forth at the two women as if they were crazy.
“It’s an ancient Sumerian bird,” Nadia said. “Well that’s what the instructions say. It’s got the body of an eagle and the head of a lion.” She looked over at Pearl. “Well we ain’t gonna miss that.”
Pearl smiled. “Right.”
“I still don’t understand how that bloody game works,” Achilles said, pointing a finger at Pearl’s phone. “I like the fishing game, you know. I get to sit down and do fuck all and let the phone do all the work. But that Magic Birds thing? There’s too much running about for my liking. How do you play it anyway?”
“It’s easy,” Nadia said. “It’s a game that uses technology to combine the real world and the Magic Birds fantasy world, which consists of all these mythological birds that we have to capture. You’re the hunter and with phone in hand, you go out and catch them. Simple. The more birds you catch, the more points you get.”
“Modern technology at its finest,” Pearl said. “The game uses the phone’s GPS, camera and clock and connects it to a version of the real world on the phone. All the street names and locations are real – it’s just like looking at a real map except there’s a bunch of fantasy birds out there, waiting to be bagged. I think the Anzu is in one of the gardens across the street.”
“GPS?” Walker sa
id.
“Global Positioning System,” Pearl said. “That’s about as much as I know honey – I just read the instructions, I’m not an expert. It’s a good game, it works and that’s all that matters. It’s something to do, right?”
“I’d rather take a photograph of my dick,” Pax said, looking at Pearl.
“Fuck off Pax,” Pearl said, extending her middle finger.
Pax wrestled furiously with the phone that was trapped in his underwear. He was still trying to get the perfect shot by the looks of it. He glanced over at Walker, which made Walker a little uncomfortable considering what Pax was doing with his hand.
“What about you?” Pax said. “You don’t use your phone, eh?”
Walker shrugged. “So what?”
“C’mon man,” Pax said. “This is what the Sleeping Giants do – we send pictures of our cock back into the real world. I’m telling you, by the time we get out of this city we’ll be legends – well our dicks will anyway. Mine for sure.”
“Because it’s so small?” Kojiro said.
Pax glared at him.
“Yeah whatever Mister high and bloody mighty Japanese samurai,” Pax said. “But I’m telling you this – there’s more than a few ladies out there behind the M25 who’ll be happy to learn that my cock is still intact. And they’ll recognise it for sure when it’s posted on this message board thing.”
Pax turned his attention back to Walker.
“You better than us Walker?” he said. “C’mon what’s the matter with you? You got a tiny pecker or something? That doesn’t stop little Sooper here from getting it out.”
“You what?” Sooper said, looking genuinely hurt. “My cock isn’t tiny.”
Pax ignored Sooper. He leaned forward, almost leering at Walker. “Go on Walker,” he said, egging him on. “Get your phone out and send something to that childhood sweetheart you’ve got tucked away up there in Scotland. Eh? It can’t be any smaller than the last time she saw it. You must have been about fifteen or something when the shit hit the fan, that right? What’s the matter mate? You got ginger pubes or something?”
Walker leaned towards the centre of the circle. He spoke in a quiet voice.
“Are you obsessed with seeing my dick Pax?” he said. “Just ask nicely man, I’ll show it to you if you’re that desperate.”
A few muffled sniggers broke out around the room.
Pax snorted in disgust and sat back. “Yeah you wish,” he said. “Bloody woofter.”
Achilles was chewing lazily on a slice of toast. He wiped a few crumbs off his beard, looked at Walker, then back at Pax.
“This lad’s on a mission Pax,” he said. “He doesn’t have time for any of that electronic nonsense. Dick pics and Magic Birds – he’s above all that shite, just like my man Kojiro over there.”
“Oh yeah?” Pax said. “What mission?”
“He’s looking for Hatchet,” Achilles said. “Don’t you remember what he told us when he first got here?”
Pax was grinning from ear to ear like a madman.
“Of course,” he said. “He’s looking for Hatchet, yeah that’s right. Hatchet. The man is on a mission ladies and gentleman. And that mission is – wait for it – revenge.”
Achilles looked at Walker.
“Well if you pass today’s little test,” Achilles said, “you’ll be one of the Sleeping Giants before the sun goes down. And if you’re one of the Sleeping Giants that means you’re a lot closer to getting your hands on the man himself. How long have you been in the Hole for?”
“Five, six months,” Walker said. “No more than that.”
“And you’ve found nothing so far – no trace of Hatchet, is that right?”
“Aye.”
“That’s ’cos you’re on your own,” Achilles said. “Hopping from place to place, asking questions – it’s a wonder you’re still alive Walker. Nobody knows who you are. Nobody trusts a new face down here in the Hole. You don’t trust no one if you don’t know who they’re running around with. You want information? You get in with a gang. It’s all about connections and associations, you see? If you’re part of a respected gang, people know who you are and they’re willing to trust.”
“You said you know him,” Walker said. “Is that true? Do you know Hatchet?”
Achilles nodded. “Sort of. I know of him,” he said. “I don’t know him personally but I can get a meeting arranged with him, as long as it’s got something to do with his line of work.”
Walker’s heart was pounding with excitement.
“Black guy, stocky – moody little fucker, at least he was back then,” Walker said. “That the same guy?”
Achilles smiled. “There’s only one Hatchet in these parts,” he said. “Yeah he’s still built like a brick shithouse from what I hear. I tell you this – I wouldn’t want to mess with him. You wouldn’t want to mess with him. But then again, you do.”
“Like Tyson,” Walker said, staring into empty space. “He was built like a little Mike Tyson back then.”
“Yeah,” Achilles said.
“And he’s in a gang?”
“Nah,” Achilles said. “He’s what you call a ‘Wandering Man’. He travels alone.”
“A Wandering Man?” Walker said.
Achilles put a pair of bread crusts back on his plate. Then he pushed the plate away, like it disgusted him. He rubbed both hands together, as if wiping off the crumbs and then turned back to Walker.
“Hatchet is what you’d call a hired gun,” he said. “From what I’ve heard he’ll do a job – the ugliest kind, the sort of thing you don’t want brought out in public. He’s a killer for hire – the type of guy that lives and works in the shadows. Not an easy man to find unless you’ve got the right connections. And he won’t do anything unless you’ve got something worthwhile to pay him with – food, weapons, you know?”
Walker looked at Kojiro. “Have you heard of him?”
Kojiro shook his head. “No.”
“You might have heard of him,” Achilles said, looking at Kojiro. “You might have heard of him if you didn’t keep going off on these bloody retreats of yours for days at a time. You’re another wandering man Kojiro, just of a different kind.”
Walker looked at Achilles. “When can you set it up?” he said.
Achilles held both hands up in the air, like he was surrendering.
“Slow down my friend,” he said. “What’s so special about this man anyway Walker? You’re not giving much away here.”
“He’s an old friend,” Walker said. “And I’ve been looking for him.”
Achilles laughed. “An old friend you say?” he said. “Well, with friends like you Walker, who needs enemies?”
Walker glared at Achilles.
“Yeah,” Achilles said, looking deep into Walker’s eyes. “I can see how badly you want it. Let me tell you something friend. I heard that the man’s a fucking savage. If I take you to Hatchet, I better be bloody well sure you’re one of the Giants. Right?”
“Aye,” Walker said.
“Aye indeed,” Achilles said, looking grim faced. “And something else to bear in mind. If you pass today’s initiation task and we set up this meeting with Hatchet – you better bloody well kill him mate. First time. I don’t want a man like that coming after me or my people. No fucking way, is that understood?”
“You’ll never hear from him again,” Walker said.
“Good,” Achilles said, his face brightening a little. He sat with his back pressed up against the wall, pointing a finger at Walker’s half-eaten breakfast plate.
“Now eat up Walker,” he said. “You’ve got to pass that test first, remember?”
Chapter 3
‘POSTCARDS FROM LONDON’
December 19th 2020
(Mobile phone footage)
Night.
A bearded, middle-aged man is sitting cross-legged, looking into the camera. His eyes are full of childlike wonder as he stares into the screen.
The w
histling wind floats gently in the background. As the man leans closer to the camera, the burning wood crackles as it releases steam into a nearby fire.
“My dearest wife Angela and my daughter Maria. I pray to God this message finds you, and it finds you well. I’ve only just gotten a hold of one of these phones. They’re in high demand as you can imagine and people are doing terrible things to get their hands on them. So here I am. I hope you see this. What can I say to you both after nine long years? I’m sorry? That’s not enough, is it? I should never have been in London that day – you told me not to go to that meeting Angela, didn’t you? Not with everything that was going on. You told me. But who would ever have thought that what happened was going to happen? I’m so sorry my love. Maria my baby, I’m sorry that I wasn’t around to watch you grow up and protect you like I was supposed to. Can you hear me? What do you look like now I wonder? I hope it gives you both some measure of comfort to see my face again. Nine years – would I even recognise you Maria?
The man breaks down.
Clip ends...
Chapter 4
‘POSTCARDS FROM LONDON’ (Continued)
December 19th 2020
…cut to a young woman standing in a television studio.
Jo-Jo Madigan is a national treasure – a twenty-one-year old pop star turned television presenter and actress. Her winter white blonde hair, combined with her vampire pale skin, makes her look almost ghostly under the studio lights. Jo-Jo is currently the host of The Future of London’s latest smash hit show – ‘Postcards From London’.
JO-JO MADIGAN: (Wipes a tear from her eye) Wow! Did you see that? Wasn’t that a heartfelt message folks? Angela and Maria, I hope you were listening and that you saw that clip from your husband and dad. As you all might know, I lost my Dad in 2011 after Piccadilly. I was only twelve at the time. Every day I hope and pray that he’s okay and of course, it would be a dream come true if he was able to send me and my mum a text or video message to let us know he’s okay. Until then, you’ll have to forgive me because when I see messages like that one, well…
The Future of London Box Set Page 56