Lone Wolf - Robert Muchamore Page 0,11

Speaks opened the paintball compound gate and the two teams jogged through. A black bin bag stood on the grass about a hundred metres inside. Ryan caught sight of it first and broke into a sprint, but soon found Max and Alfie from the rival team charging up behind.

Ryan grabbed the bag and instantly saw it was too light to contain paintball stuff. Max got a hand on it and ripped the plastic open. A bunch of brightly coloured ropes and climbing gear spilled out over the grass. Ryan bent down to scoop some of it up, but immediately got tackled by bulky fourteen-year-old Alfie.

‘Give it up, prom queen,’ Alfie ordered, as Ryan clutched a bunch of ropes to his chest. He wasn’t sure how useful the ropes were likely to be, but he was determined to keep hold of some.

Ryan glanced over his shoulder, hoping that one of the twins would come and give him a hand. But apparently Grace and Ning had taken exception to being called chubby and – unable to tell which twin was which – had decided to go after both of them.

After a tussle, Ryan found himself flat on the ground with Alfie sitting across his chest and Max holding a bunch of ropes.

‘Why don’t we tie him up?’ Max asked. ‘Then we’ll just have his three little brothers to deal with.’

‘No tying up,’ Ryan protested.

‘Says who?’ Max asked, as he prepared a large loop to hook around Ryan’s ankles.

Alfie nodded. ‘We got the standard lecture about low blows and head shots, but I never heard nothing about tying up.’

Ryan bucked frantically. ‘Damn your big fat arse, Alfie.’

Alfie smirked. ‘Shut it or I’ll grunt on you.’

‘Exterminate!’ Theo shouted, as he jumped out from behind a tree holding a plastic dustbin lid.

When he got close, he spun to avoid Alfie and barged into Max who was much skinnier. Theo was less than two thirds of Max’s weight, but he had enough momentum to knock him sideways.

As soon as Ryan had room to move, he brought his knees up.

‘Ooof!’ Alfie moaned, as Ryan’s kneecap connected with his balls. ‘Low blow!’

With Theo driving him sideways, and Ryan bucking underneath, Max wound up in a heap in the grass. Alfie tried getting his arms around Theo’s waist, but only got whacked with the dustbin lid for his trouble.

Ryan started scrambling forwards, crawling at first but finding his feet. Max grabbed Ryan’s boot and managed to unlace it but he was soon up and running.

‘You saved my butt,’ Ryan told his little brother as he scrambled off. Theo looked extremely proud of himself.

Alfie was still groaning and holding his balls, and Max didn’t fancy his chances going after Ryan and Theo on his own. So the two brothers made it over a couple of hundred metres of clear ground before diving into a copse of trees.

‘Did you see what happened to Leon and Daniel?’ Ryan asked.

‘I saw the girls going after them.’

Ryan nodded. ‘I don’t fancy their chances, especially against Ning.’

‘It’s bogus,’ Theo complained. ‘The other team are all fifteen – well, Alfie’s fourteen but he’s enormous.’

‘Life’s not fair,’ Ryan said. ‘That’s what they’re trying to teach us.’

‘So what now?’ Theo asked. ‘Shall we try to help the twins?’

Ryan shook his head. ‘Even if we caught up with them, our chances aren’t good. I say we stick together, cover as much ground as we can. The other team is bigger and stronger, and the only way to even up the odds is by getting our hands on a gun and some ammo before they do.’

7. LAUNDRY

Idris Secure Training Centre

‘It’s not difficult,’ Chloe Cohen said, as she ambled into the laundry room, dressed in an England rugby shirt, Adidas tracksuit bottoms and a pair of flip-flops.

Chloe’s fourteen years had been a succession of abuse and disaster, that had finally got her locked up after she’d got high and burned down a house owned by her stepdad. Her companion Izzy was thirteen, but seemed more like eleven. She was doing time after stealing chemicals from her school science lab and brewing poison tea for her parents and older sister.

As Izzy put a plastic laundry basket down on the floor in front of a washing machine, Chloe dipped a scoop into a giant box of powder.

‘Open the drawer on the front.’

Izzy opened the drawer and Chloe tipped in the powder, with a few sprinkles hitting the floor.

‘Clothes in,’ Chloe said. ‘Close the door and set to thirty-degree wash. Push start.’

Izzy stepped back