Man vs. Beast by Robert Muchamore
‘Thank god it’s Friday,’ James huffed, as he sat on his bed and grabbed a cleanish pair of cargo shorts off the floor. ‘How was study leave?’
‘Not bad,’ Kyle grinned. ‘I got up at ten, sunbathed in the garden until noon and then Tom came over for a couple of hours.’
James tutted. ‘Doesn’t he have to go to school either? Sixth form is such a doss.’
‘Tom’s finished his A-levels and starts uni at the end of September. Provided he gets his grades, of course.’
The hot weather was getting to James and he broke into a full-on rant. ‘I bloody hate going to stupid lessons at stupid schools where you don’t learn anything. It’s a gorgeous day and I had to spend two hours sitting in a classroom doing maths. I’ve done A-level maths and this wasn’t even GCSE. I felt like twanging my idiot classmates around the head and going Why are you all so thick?’
Kyle laughed. ‘We can’t all be mathematical geniuses, James. I worked my balls off to get A-level maths last year and still only scraped a C.’
‘So, what did Tom say?’
‘No news, really. Sophie and Viv are still putting out feelers to try getting involved with one of the radical groups, but they’re all so wary of infiltration that nothing is happening fast.’
‘You know what’s gonna happen, don’t you? Me, Kerry and Lauren are scheduled to go on summer holiday at the CHERUB hostel together for the first time ever. What’s the betting this mission ends up dragging on for months and we miss out?’
‘You’re a golden beam of sunshine today, aren’t you?’ Kyle grinned. ‘I missed out on summer hostel a few years back, and all for some crummy mission based on a false tip-off about a heroin smuggler. You’ve been lucky so far, James – all your missions have panned out. Sooner or later you’re gonna get one that goes tits up.’
‘You reckon this could be it?’
Kyle shook his head. ‘I’m optimistic, but they reckon the AFM could have as few as a dozen members. We were never likely to unearth a small group like that quickly. I reckon we did well hooking up with Tom and Viv as fast as we did.’
‘Guess you’re right,’ James said, feeling slightly happier as he leaned back and put his feet up on his bed. ‘And school finishes next week. This mission’s gonna be a real doss once summer holidays start.’
James felt a lump under his back. He reached beneath his covers and pulled a red and green rugby sock out of the folds in his duvet. It certainly wasn’t his and Kyle wouldn’t be seen dead in sportswear.
James leapt off his bunk. ‘Kyle, why the hell is your boyfriend’s sock inside my bed?’
‘Oh, that’s where it got to,’ Kyle said casually. ‘We looked everywhere.’
‘Were you and Tom using my bed for … you know, gay stuff ?’
‘Where else can you sit in this cupboard?’
‘You could have used your own bunk,’ James said indignantly.
Kyle moved his hand between the top of his bed and the ceiling. ‘There’s less than half a metre between my mattress and the ceiling. Besides, Tom’s a big guy; the bunk would probably collapse with both of us up here.’
‘So what exactly did you two get up to on my bed?’
‘Nothing,’ Kyle said. ‘We just snuggled up and kissed for a while.’
‘After taking your clothes off,’ James added.
‘Some of our clothes,’ Kyle said, as he pointed at the sunlight streaming through the window. ‘It’s eighty degrees out there. Do you expect us to make out in our overcoats?’
‘Look, you and Tom are both over sixteen. I’ve got nothing against you being gay and doing whatever the hell you like with each other. Just not on my bed, OK?’
Kyle jumped down off his bunk and faced James off. ‘You’re a total homophobe,’ he said angrily.
‘No,’ James said. ‘I’ve known you’re gay for yonks. It’s not made the slightest bit of difference between us.’
‘You know what?’ Kyle spluttered. ‘You’re the worst kind of homophobe, too. I’d prefer it if you just came out and said you didn’t like me being gay. Instead of being all it’s OK, it’s OK, but secretly turning your nose up behind my back.’
‘You’re putting words in my mouth,’ James gasped. ‘All I said was that I didn’t want you two romping around half naked on my bed. What’s wrong with that?’
‘Batman Begins,’ Kyle said, jabbing his finger against James’ chest. ‘We watched it on DVD in your room back at campus. I sat on the floor while everyone else sat on your bed. You were making out with Kerry, Gabrielle was making out with Daniel Satter and Callum was attempting to make out with god knows who. You didn’t bat an eyelid, even when Gabrielle and Daniel were practically humping each other.’
‘Well …’ James said weakly.
‘It’s a total double standard,’ Kyle said bitterly. ‘If I’d snogged a girl on your bed you wouldn’t have said a word, would you?’
James realised Kyle was right, but he wasn’t prepared to admit it. ‘Just keep your boyfriend off my bed, Kyle.’
‘Get stuffed,’ Kyle said, giving James a shove and heading for the door. ‘Some bloody friend you are.’
But he didn’t get out because Zara was on her way in. Her voice was quiet, but furious. ‘I don’t know what you two are arguing about,’ she hissed, ‘but I can overhear you talking about campus downstairs in the kitchen and in case you haven’t noticed, we have a guest in the house. Fortunately, Lauren has had the sense to turn her music on.’
James gasped. He’d totally forgotten about Stuart.
‘I’m going out for a walk,’ Kyle said sourly, grabbing a pair of trainers and a T-shirt before heading out of the room.
‘Care to explain what all that was about?’ Zara asked James, once Kyle was downstairs.
‘I found out Kyle and Tom were making out on my bed earlier. I told Kyle I didn’t want them doing it again.’
‘Did they leave a mess or something?’
‘No, just …’
Zara smiled knowingly. ‘You’re uncomfortable because they’re gay.’
James nodded as he remembered why he liked Zara so much: she always understood where you were coming from.
‘I know you’re not supposed to have anything against gay people,’ James explained. ‘I mean, I really like Kyle, but whenever I think about the idea of two guys wanting to shag each other, it just makes me go EUGHHHH!’
Zara smiled. ‘It’s a common reaction, especially amongst teenage boys. Have you ever tried explaining to Kyle how his sexuality makes you feel?’
James shook his head. ‘No way, he’d freak at me.’
‘I’ll have a word with him when he comes back,’ Zara said. ‘Hopefully it’ll sound better coming from me. You two are such good mates; it’d be a shame if you fell out.’
‘Cheers,’ James grinned.
23. WOMEN
James was always amazed at the way an entire weekend whizzed by faster than a fifty-minute History lesson on a Monday morning. He had his head resting on his desk and watched the seconds count down on the Fossil watch Lauren had bought him for Christmas. The teacher was called Miss Choke – James’ late mother’s surname – and he wondered if she was some distant cousin of his as she babbled on about the 38th parallel, General Walker and the Korean War.
As James stared intently, looking forward to the momentous instant when his watch would display 11:11:11, the mobile phone in his pocket played its little message received sound. He sneaked the Samsung out of his pocket and flipped it open.
‘Mr Wilson,’ the teacher said sharply.
It took half a second for James to register that this was his current surname and look up.
‘I know you’re new at this school, James, but I shouldn’t have to remind you that mobile telephones are to be switched off during all lessons.’
‘Sorry, Miss,’ James said, but he was more interested in the message he’d received from Kyle:
AM AT FRONT GATES. MEET NOW. MEGA URGENT!!!
&nb
‘Erm …’ James said, standing up and grabbing his backpack. ‘Family crisis. Sorry Miss, but I’ve got to run.’
The teacher looked startled and James’ classmates were staring at him with looks that clearly said pull the other one it’s got bells on.
‘Just because it’s the last week of term does not give you the right to come and go as you please,’ Miss Choke said angrily, as James stuffed his history books into his pack.
‘Yeah,’ James gasped as he headed for the classroom door and set off at a run down a short corridor. ‘Sorry.’
He bolted down two flights of stairs and out of the main school entrance, ignoring the woman at reception demanding to know exactly what he thought he was playing at. Kyle was across the road outside the school, dressed in jeans and polo shirt with a backpack slung over his shoulder.
‘What’s going on?’ James asked, looking around anxiously. ‘We’d better get moving. The school secretary was doing her nut and they’re bound to send someone out after me.’
Kyle pointed at an old Mondeo parked less than twenty metres away. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got a cab. We’ve had the call.’
‘What call?’
‘The feelers Viv put out,’ Kyle explained. ‘Apparently him and Tom met up with some dude on the university campus late last night. I got a call from Tom this morning and another from the activists about an hour later. They want to meet us, soon as poss.’
‘Sweet,’ James said, as they headed towards the cab. ‘So are we back on speaking terms now or what?’
Kyle shrugged as he opened the front passenger door of the car. ‘You’re not exactly my favourite person in the world, but Zara had words and we have a job to do.’
As James climbed in the back of the cab, he could see the school’s deputy head on the other side of the road, waiting for a break in the traffic.
‘Where to, boss?’ the driver asked, in an East European accent.
‘Take us into Bristol,’ Kyle said. ‘Some shopping centre called King Street Parade. Do you know where that is?’
*
The driver got lost going through the tangle of one-way streets in the centre of Bristol and the fare ended up being over twenty quid.
‘So what are we supposed to do now?’ James asked, as they headed up an escalator towards a food court that had once been the top floor of a department store.
‘They told us to sit at a table and await instructions,’ Kyle explained. ‘We’ve got no idea how sophisticated these groups are, so we’d better assume that we’re being listened to. Stay in character at all times.’
‘Right,’ James said, almost tripping at the top of the escalator because he was concentrating on ripping off his school tie.
The food court was a standard deal, with a dozen deserted kiosks and twenty people queuing up at the McDonalds. It wasn’t quite lunchtime, so there was plenty of space to sit.
‘Shall we get something to eat?’ James asked, as they sat down at a small table.
Kyle’s phone rang the split second his bum touched his plastic chair. ‘Hello.’
A female voice came back at him. Kyle thought it sounded sinister, although that probably had more to do with the realisation that he was being watched.
‘I see you made it,’ she said. ‘Took you long enough, didn’t it?’
‘I told you I had to get James out of school,’ Kyle said, craning his neck around in an attempt to spot the woman on the other end of the phone.
‘Don’t bother looking, Kyle, you’ll meet me soon enough. What equipment have you got on you?’
Kyle was baffled. ‘Equipment?’
‘Telephones, wrist watches, pens, pencils, tape recorders, pocket knives, wallets. You must have some of that stuff on you.’
‘Sure, a couple of bits.’
‘OK, I can see you’ve both got backpacks. I want both of you to take everything off, including your telephones, and place them inside the packs. It that clear?’
‘Crystal,’ Kyle said.
‘Once you’ve done that, wait at your table for ninety seconds. Then head to the lift and take it down to parking basement three. When you step out of the lift, you’ll see our van. Climb in the back, hand us your packs without making eye contact and then lie face down on the floor.’
The phone went dead in Kyle’s ear.
‘And?’ James asked.
Kyle allowed himself to smile a little. ‘Looks like we’re in.’
Two minutes later, a set of elevator doors broke apart and James and Kyle stepped out, surveying the lines of parked cars, looking for their ride. While the other passengers headed towards their vehicles, Kyle stood by the doors looking confused.
‘Are you sure you got the right floor?’ James asked.
‘She definitely said basement three.’
Kyle was beginning to wonder if it was one of Viv’s crazy jokes, when a red Volkswagen Transporter turned off the entrance ramp and started coming towards them. The woman in the driving seat had made herself unrecognisable with a baseball cap and dark glasses. She pulled up gently as the rear doors swung open.
As instructed, James and Kyle clambered into the rear compartment and lay face down on the ridged metal floor.
‘Packs,’ a woman shouted, as someone else closed the rear doors, plunging everything into darkness.
As the van pulled away, James tried glancing up.
‘Face down, kid,’ the woman shouted, clanging her boot on the metal floor in front of his head to emphasise the point. As the van twisted its way around a series of ramps to leave the car park, one of the women in the back flipped on a roof-mounted interior light, before both of them squatted down on cinema style fold-out seats and began rummaging through the backpacks.
‘Homework diary,’ the woman with James’ backpack smiled. ‘That takes me back a few years. Pens, books, mobile telephone …’
The woman flipped James’ mobile open and began looking through the stored numbers. As always, James had a special SIM card fitted just for the mission, so none of his friends or contacts on campus were listed. Once Kyle and James’ phones had been checked out, the women switched them off to prevent their signals from being tracked.
‘I suppose you’re a bit young to be an undercover cop,’ the woman grinned, as she zipped up James’ backpack. ‘Both of you sit up, face towards the rear doors and take off everything except your underpants. Don’t try looking at us unless you want my boot up your arse.’
Stripping down was an awkward experience because the van kept stopping and starting as it moved through some heavy traffic. The women checked the pockets and turned each item of clothing inside out before throwing it aside. The boys couldn’t see out of the van, but by the time they were told to get dressed again, they’d clearly made it out of the city centre and were doing a good speed on a stretch of open road.
A quarter of an hour later, the van pulled off the fast road and after some twists, turns and the squelch of mud under the tyres, came to a halt.
One woman threw blindfolds at James and Kyle. Once they were tightly knotted, the boys were led across a muddy path and into a space that echoed to their footsteps.
The blindfolds were ripped off and it took James and Kyle’s eyes half a minute to adjust to the brilliantly lit space. The building seemed modern and was built from breeze blocks. It had a concrete floor, giant skylights cut into the roof and James guessed that it had been built as a small factory.
The three women were bigger than average, but hardly imposing. They wore trousers and boots and all three had slipped into Balaclavas before removing the boys’ blindfolds. James was stunned to realise that the tall one standing in the centre had a handgun pointing at his chest.
‘James, Kyle,’ she said, in an accent with a touch of American to it. ‘Thanks for coming. I’m sorry that we have to treat you this way, but the police a
James and Kyle each took a small bottle of mineral water from one of the other women. It had been stifling inside the van and both lads unscrewed the caps and drank greedily, keeping one eye on the gun.
‘So you’re the AFM?’ James asked.
‘Some of us have undertaken actions in that name in the past,’ Jo nodded. ‘But we’ve moved on. We’re setting up a new organisation, the Animal Freedom Army. If you really believe in animal liberation, this is probably the best opportunity you’ll ever have to make a difference.’
‘Is it really necessary to point that gun at us?’ Kyle asked edgily. ‘Maybe I’ve watched too many movies where people get shot accidentally, but you’re freaking me out.’
‘Please don’t take offence. Your sister was overheard mentioning that you’re both third dan Karate black belts,’ Jo explained. ‘Think of it as a compliment: I’m only holding this gun because you two could overpower us in a straight fight.’
‘Can’t you at least point it at the ground?’ Kyle grinned.
James thought he could see a hint of a smile through Jo’s Balaclava as she lowered the gun. ‘Your stepfather, Ryan Quinn, devised a wise strategy and always kept Zebra eighty-four as a small group. Recruiting members is the riskiest thing any anti-government organisation has to do. The less recruiting you do, the longer you’re likely to stay in operation. But of course, there’s a downside to that way of working.’
James butted in, ‘You can’t do much if you don’t have any members.’
‘Precisely,’ Jo nodded. ‘We’re part of a new organisation that aims to raise the bar for the animal liberation movement. We’re putting together a spectacular: probably the most sophisticated liberationist raid ever. We’ll need some fit young lads like you to pull it off and if we succeed, you’ll be helping to generate unprecedented global publicity for our cause.’
‘So what is this masterplan?’ James asked cheekily, fully aware that he wouldn’t get an answer.