CHERUB: Class A - Robert Muchamore Page 0,2

one of the curtains and used it to wipe the dog crap off his leg.
‘That’s so gross,’ Bruce said. ‘At least it’s not on your clothes.’
‘Have you checked all the rooms out?’
Bruce shook his head. ‘I thought I’d make sure you weren’t being eaten first, even if it meant we got caught.’
‘Fair play,’ James said.
They worked their way across the ground floor, creeping up to each door and checking out the rooms. The villa looked lived-in. There were cigarette butts in ashtrays and dirty mugs. There was a Mercedes in the garage. Bruce pocketed the keys.
‘There’s our getaway vehicle,’ he said.
There was no sign of life on the ground floor, which made the staircase likely to be some sort of trap. They stepped up gingerly, expecting someone to burst on to the landing pointing a gun at them.
There were three bedrooms and a bathroom on the second floor. The two hostages were in the master bedroom. The eight-year-olds, Jake and Laura, were tied to a bedpost, with gags over their mouths. They wore grubby T-shirts and shorts.
James and Bruce pulled the hunting knives off their belts and cut the kids loose. There was no time for greetings.
‘Laura,’ James barked. ‘When did you last see the bad guys? Have you got any idea where they might be?’
Laura was red-faced and seemed listless.
‘I dunno,’ she shrugged. ‘But I’m busting to pee.’
Laura and Jake knew nothing about anything. Bruce and James had been expecting a battle to get at them. This was far too easy.
‘We’re taking you to the car,’ James said.
Laura started limping towards the bathroom. Her ankle was strapped up.
‘We don’t have time for toilet breaks,’ James gasped. ‘They’ve got guns and we haven’t.’
‘I’m gonna wet my knickers in a minute,’ Laura said, bolting herself inside the en-suite bathroom.
James was furious. ‘Well, make it snappy.’
‘I need to go too,’ Jake said.
Bruce shook his head. ‘I don’t want you disappearing. You can pee in the corner of the garage while I start the car.’
He led Jake downstairs. James waited half a minute before thumping on the bathroom door.
‘Laura, come on. What the hell is taking you so long?’
‘I’m washing my hands,’ Laura said. ‘I couldn’t find any soap.’
James couldn’t believe it.
‘For the love of god,’ he shouted, hammering his fist on the bolted door. ‘We’ve got to get out of here.’
Laura eventually hobbled out of the bathroom. James scooped her over his shoulder and sprinted downstairs to the garage. Bruce sat at the steering wheel inside the car. Laura slid on to the back seat next to Jake.
‘It’s kaput,’ Bruce shouted, getting out of the car and kicking the front wing. ‘The key goes in but it won’t turn. It’s showing a full tank of petrol. I don’t know what’s wrong with it.’
‘It’s been sabotaged,’ James yelled back. ‘I bet you any money this is a trap.’
Bruce looked awkward as the realisation dawned.
‘You’re right. Let’s get out of here.’
James leaned inside the Mercedes.
‘Sorry you two,’ he said, looking at Jake and Laura. ‘Looks like we’ve got to make a run for it.’
But it was too late. James heard the noise, but only turned around in time to see the gun pointing at him. Bruce screamed out, as James felt two rounds smash into his chest. The pain knocked the air out of his lungs. He stumbled backwards, watching bright red streaks dribbling down his T-shirt.
2. STINGING
Fired from close range, the next paintball knocked James backwards on to the concrete floor. Kerry Chang kept the gun on him as she closed in. James had his hands in the air.
‘I surrender.’
‘Pardon?’ Kerry said, blasting a fourth paintball into James’ thigh.
It wasn’t going to do permanent damage but, fired from close range, the paintballs had left him in a heap on the ground.
‘Kerry, please, not again,’ James gasped. ‘That really hurts.’
‘Pardon?’ Kerry said. ‘Can’t hear what you’re saying.’
She stood astride James, pointing the muzzle of the paintball gun at him. On the other side of the car, Bruce screamed as Gabrielle shot him a couple more times.
Kerry fired into James’ stomach from less than a metre away, doubling him over.
‘You mad cow,’ James howled. ‘You could have my eye out doing that. You’re supposed to stop shooting as soon as I surrender.’
‘Did you surrender?’ Kerry grinned. ‘I misheard. I thought you said, Please shoot me again.’
The girls rested their guns on the roof of the car.
‘Did we whip your little pink butts?’ Gabrielle whooped in her thick Jamaican accent. ‘Or did we whip your little