“The occasional donation keeps the boss sweet,” Gary said. “He’s a very meticulous man and he’s always paying attention. Just send something our way soon. Something to let us know that it’s not all one-way traffic. You’re under our protection Achilles and it’s nice to be appreciated.”
“Of course,” Achilles said. “We’ll have something next time, I promise.”
Gary smiled, something that looked like it took a lot of effort for him to do.
“Good man,” he said.
Achilles stood there, grinning like a maniac.
“See you next week then,” Gary said. “And a very Merry Christmas to the Sleeping Giants.”
Walker knew what was expected of him.
After the Giants had returned to the school with their Christmas package, he’d wandered the narrow corridors alone. He was trying to psych himself up, to get ready to participate in Kojiro’s ‘initiation’.
Most of the other Sleeping Giants were gathered in the Living Room. Walker didn’t want to go there. Instead, he found himself closing in on the school’s kitchen. Walking on autopilot, he took a left off the corridor and stepped into the small kitchen area where the Giants’ lunch was being prepared. Nadia, the trained chef in the gang, was inside preparing the food.
The kitchen itself had the bare minimum going for it – a microwave oven, a fridge, an old kettle and a battered toaster, as well as some cupboards and a tin biscuit box. It wasn’t much but it was enough, and at least the electrical items worked.
There was a metal tray on the wooden table. Walker’s ghoulish curiosity had brought him here to see what was on it.
Sitting in four horizontal rows on the tray, were dozens of slices of red meat.
Walker’s stomach lurched at the sight of them. In particular, there was something about the red colour that troubled him. It was so dark and…tempting?
Nadia saw him looking at the meat. She smiled reassuringly.
“You okay?” she said.
Walker gave a weak nod in reply.
“How do you cook that stuff?” he asked. “You don’t eat it raw do you?”
Walker wasn’t sure why he asked the question. Nadia had been a chef before Piccadilly and maybe he was looking for reassurance of some kind. Maybe he was hoping that she’d tell him she was going to burn those fucking things to a crisp, to cremate them so much that by the time they landed on Walker’s plate they’d be unrecognisable as pieces of human flesh.
“The meat is already cooked,” Nadia said. “Don’t worry about it. I know – it’s scary the first time you try it. We’ve all been there Walker. But it’s just like pre-cooked chicken or beef. Same deal. We eat it quickly so it doesn’t get contaminated.”
The meat? She called it ‘the meat’. It’s a person – was a person.
“You eat it cold?”
“We don’t have a cooker,” she said. “And it’s not the sort of thing you want to put in the microwave.”
“Aye,” Walker said.
Nadia laughed softly.
“It could be worse,” she said, standing at the sink washing her hands under the cold water. “Some people request raw meat from the Ghosts. Don’t worry, we’re a little more civilised than that here. I’m going to put it into a nice little salad – some green leaves, some onion and a few other things the Ghosts left for us. You’ll be surprised at how normal this dish is going to look. You never know, you might even like it.”
“What’s with the Ghosts anyway?” Walker asked.
He took a tentative step into the kitchen and looked out of the small window by the sink. There wasn’t much to see besides the greyish-blue sky of early afternoon. “Why are they handing out food like it’s a Tesco delivery?”
“Power,” Nadia said, drying her hands with a ragged dishcloth. “It’s that simple. They do the same thing with most of the gangs in the Hole. Who’s going to bite the hand that feeds them?”
“Aye.”
Walker hovered awkwardly around the kitchen table. Meanwhile Nadia went to work. She opened the aluminium fridge door and pulled out a large bowl with dark greens that looked like a mixture of spinach leaves, kale, and broccoli. She went about her work without a care in the world, like she was preparing a normal Sunday lunch. She even whistled an unfamiliar tune as she took bowls and plates out of the cupboards and put them onto the table.
Walker knew he was being impolite by not offering to help. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Eating this stuff was going to be hard enough.
But Nadia didn’t seem to mind. She was in her element as she peeled back the cling film that covered the tray of meat. The crinkling sound of the cling film was enough to make Walker’s blood run cold. What was that smell that shot up his nostrils? Was it his imagination or was there something rancid in the air? He wanted to get out of there but something kept his feet glued to the kitchen floor. It was the call of the void, urging him closer.
Take a look, it said. Take a look at the delicacies of our new London.
“I bet this is a change from what you were used to,” he said. “When you were a chef.”
“Yes and no,” Nadia said, sprinkling some spinach leaves onto a plate. “It’s just meat. It’s like beef – that’s what it most closely resembles in terms of texture.”
“Does it taste like beef?” Walker asked.
“More like pork.”
“Christ. I hate pork.”
Walker looked at the metal tray and its contents. “And what part is it? Do you know?”
“What do you mean?” Nadia asked.
Walker swallowed hard. “What body part?”
“Oh I see,” she said, sounding so cheery that it was starting to freak Walker out. “I’m not sure but don’t worry – they avoid the brains, small intestine – anything that might lead to Prion diseases.”
“To what disease?”
“Prion,” Nadia said, slowly as if she were talking to a child. “It’s a group of brain diseases that are associated with eating human flesh. Don’t worry, we’re not pulling it raw from the bone. The Ghosts know what they’re doing when they prepare this stuff. And so do I.”
Walker edged backwards towards the door.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” he said.
She nodded. “Be there in a few minutes,” she said. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving.”
Walker retreated back into the school corridor with a tight knot forming in his stomach. He felt like a lonely prizefighter, counting down the moments before the walk to the ring. The nerves were so bad that he was forced to visit the toilet on his way back to the Living Room. That was one good thing about the school – the toilets were still in good condition. Achilles had told Walker that this was because the school had most likely been used as a crisis centre in the immediate aftermath of Piccadilly. When the Giants first came to the school they’d found clothes, sleeping bags, and they assumed that maintenance crews had paid close attention to the area, overseeing the water supply and electricity. All in all, it was a good place to huddle down. The only problem was how cold it was.
Walker returned with reluctance to the Living Room. He opened the door and popped his head inside. His appearance was met with a brief round of applause, which he ignored as best he could. He walked in, taking his place in the circle in between Kojiro and Pearl.
“Here he comes ladies and gentlemen,” Pax yelled. “Virgin alert! Virgin!”
“Come in sunshine,” Achilles said. “Sit yourself down and get ready for the best meal you ever tasted in your life.”
Walker tried to smile but couldn’t. It felt odd that some of the people in that room had earlier that day been discussing whether or not to kill him.
“Nervous?” Pearl asked. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulder and was shivering slightly.
Walker shrugged. “Nervous about getting brain disease,” he said.
Kojiro, who was sitting cross-legged, laughed and slapped a hand off his knee.
“It’s a good point,” he said, looking at Walker. “How are we to know what our benevolent masters have put in our food? There could be particles of human brain in there for all we know. I read once that eating the human brain can have a serious degenerative effect on the body – neurological diseases funnily enough. You only have to look at Pax for example to wonder whether or not some of us have already been exposed to such ingredients.”
“Fuck you Kojiro,” Pax said, holding his middle finger up.
“Who’d notice a bunch of mental people running around here?” Sooper said, giggling. “It’s already a madhouse, innit Pax?”
“Fucking right kid.”
“Hallucinations, paranoia, and psychosis,” Kojiro said. “You’ll become a slobbering wreck if you eat the wrong parts. You’ll get the shakes. If the Ghosts wanted to get rid of us, they could do worse than poison the food.”
“Who gives a fuck?” Pax said. “Are you happy or something Kojiro? Are you having a good time here that you want to live forever? The food tastes pretty damn good and that’s all that matters to me. Allow me some pleasure in this shithole for God’s sake. Listen to me Walker, ignore him. You might as well tuck in and go yum-yum. Enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think.”
Pax looked at Kojiro, rubbing his belly with violent glee.
“Eat the skin if you want to be safe,” Pearl said to Walker. “That’s what I heard. Eating the skin of a human being isn’t much different than eating the skin of any large animal. Well, that’s what Nadia told me.”
“Jesus,” Walker said, looking at her in horror.
“Yeah,” Pearl said, patting him on the back. “We were like you once honey. Virgins. I wasn’t too excited about eating it either. Thank God we have Nadia with us; she’s the only one who knows what she’s doing with food around here. I wouldn’t trust any of these bozos with my meals, that’s for sure.”
“Thanks a lot,” Achilles said.
“You’re welcome.”
Walker was about to speak but he was interrupted by the sound of footsteps in the corridor.
“Shit,” he mumbled. “Here it comes.”
“Lunch is served motherfuckers,” Pax said, looking at Walker. He smacked his lips together in a gross, exaggerated chewing motion.
Pearl got up and opened the door for Nadia, who walked into the room with two metal trays with several plates sitting on each one.
“Cheers for the help you lot,” she said, looking at the men who were still sitting down.
“Sorry Nadz my love,” Pax said. “But you’re so bloody talented in the kitchen that I’d only get in the way and ruin it, eh? That’s where a woman really shines, eh? In the kitchen.”
Nadia scowled at Pax. “I meant opening the door for me dickhead.”
Pax laughed out loud. “Yeah right.”
Walker looked on in silence as Nadia put the two trays down on the floor in the middle of the circle. He’d never felt less hungry in his life. Everyone else reached over and grabbed a plate without hesitation. Walker was more than content to let them go first, hoping that maybe they’d be one plate short.
No such luck. Pearl reached over and dropped the last plate onto Walker’s lap.
“Bon appétit,” she said. “Just do it, don’t think about it.”
Walker forced a smile in her direction. Then he looked down at the plate of food on his lap. It looked like a normal salad. To her credit, Nadia had presented the dish well, with the grisly strips of red meat interlaced with a variety of salad leaves and some tomatoes and onion shavings.
But what if you like it?
Walker glanced at the others, all of who were tucking into their food with gusto. They didn’t mess about; their forks went right in, pulling and twisting at the greens and vegetables with the red meat – a constant thread running through it.
Walker heard the chorus of chewing sounds and it made him want to scream inside. That noise, that sound of contented eating was driving him crazy. But he had to do this. He tried to think about a delicious smoked salmon salad. God, he’d tasted some fine smoked salmon back in Scotland. Best in the world, that’s what his dad had always said, right?
That’s what Walker was thinking about when he put his fork into the plate of food. That’s what he was thinking about when he took his first bite of human flesh.
It was smoked salmon, and it was delicious.
No, it was like pork. Pig flesh. Nadia was right about that, Walker thought. It tastes like that but stronger and yet at the same time it was unlike any meat he had ever tasted.
Is this really happening?
The others were too wrapped up in their own meals to pay much attention to Walker. One or two looked up and saw that he was eating and it was enough. He’d passed Kojiro’s initiation task, but if that was supposed to make him feel good about what he was doing, well it didn’t.
Walker continued to shovel the food down his throat. It would be over soon, he told himself. He tried to turn his mind into a blank void but then something else occurred to him.
He was thinking about the Big Chase he’d seen that summer. More specifically, he was thinking about Carol – the woman who’d been with him and Barboza, along with Charlie, the little boy who’d ran away from Station that night. He was thinking about how the Ghosts of London had taken Carol captive, along with so many other people during that hot summer night of terror.
Walker looked down at the lean red strips of flesh on his plate. A cold shiver went through him and it had nothing to do with the icy temperature.
He could do this. It was only smoked salmon after all.
When Walker finally cleared the plate, he was vaguely aware of people coming over and slapping him on the shoulder, yelling words of congratulations and telling him that he was one of the Sleeping Giants now.
Walker didn’t say anything. The others went back to their phones and he just sat there, feeling the food sliding down into his body.
After a while, he wrapped his black coat around him and wandered out into the gloomy corridor. He kept walking and it felt like forever until he arrived in another classroom, located on the opposite side of the building from the Living Room.
Hand-drawn pictures adorned the wall of the classroom, coloured in with crayons and childish scribbling.
There was no furniture in the room – it had all been stripped bare. And of course it was cold. It was so damn cold everywhere. At least he was alone and that’s what he wanted right now. He sunk to the floor with his back up against the wall. He tried not to think about what he’d done. Instead, he tried to think about Hatchet – to remind himself that he hadn’t eaten human flesh for nothing. Achilles promised him after all. It would happen over the next couple of days. Walker would make sure of it. He’d push Achilles to set up a meeting with Hatchet and then he’d do what he’d come here to do.
Walker sat in the classroom for a long time, staring at the pictures on the wall. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he heard footsteps outside in the corridor.
When he looked up, Pearl was poking her head through the doorway.
“You alright man?” she asked. “Been looking for you.”
Walker nodded.
Pearl stepped inside, carrying two steaming hot mugs in her hand. Without saying anything, she walked over and sat down beside Walker, propping her back up against the wall.
“Sure you’re okay?” she asked. “Losing your virginity is tough man. If you’re anything like me, you were thinking about someone you love when you were eating back there, right? Or someone you know. Something like that, right?”
Walker nodded. “Something like that.”
“I tell ya,” she said. “I would have sworn to anyone who asked that I was eating Izzy that first time.”
“Izzy?”
“My fiancée.”
“Right.”
“Childhood sweethearts,” she said. “Me and Izzy. That’s who I was travelling the world with in 2011. He was Broo
klyn born and bred just like I am. Looked like a rock star, he really did man. We took a year out to see the world together. We’d been planning it for over two years, how we’d work our way across the planet from west to east until we’d reached west again. God, some of the happiest moments of my life were me and Izzy sitting in our apartment on a Friday night, just pouring over maps and travel books. You know? We’d have pictures of our destination up on the laptop and some wine on the go, music playing and…”
Her voice trailed off.
“Sounds nice,” Walker said
“Guess we didn’t plan it that well huh?” she said. “Guess what part of the world we scheduled for September 2011? That’s right. Fucking London. Fucking England.”
“Did he die at Piccadilly?” Walker asked.
“I don’t know,” Pearl said. “I think so, but I don’t know for sure. What I do know is that we were the dumbass American tourists that day. All those people, all those warning signs and there we were, trying to get as close as possible to Chester George to take pictures and yeah…something for the slide show when we got back home, huh? Something to show all our friends and make them jealous of our exciting lives.”
“What happened?” Walker asked.
There was a laboured smile on Pearl’s face. But the pain in her eyes was true.
“We got separated when it went bad,” she said. “I wasn’t even that panicked at the time because you know – we’ll meet up later, so I thought. We had cell phones on us, no big deal. I tried calling him while it was kicking off. There was no answer and I tried again and again. Then self-preservation mode swept over me. I had to run for my life, literally. I never saw him again Walker. I don’t even know if he’s dead or alive. But I don’t dare to hope, not anymore.”
She wiped something out of the corner of her eye. Then she looked at Walker and smiled.
“Anyway,” she said. “It’s nearly Christmas, let’s not be sad.”
She slid one of the two mugs over till it was resting at Walker’s feet. He looked down and saw a dark-golden brownish liquid inside. He leaned forward and caught a whiff of something rising out of the liquid. It smelled like vanilla and hazelnuts.
The Future of London Box Set Page 59