Lone Wolf - Robert Muchamore Page 0,13

accurate, so when he got to within twenty metres he went down on his knees and kept crawling. When he was ten metres away, Grace glanced at her watch and started to walk.

Ryan bobbed up and took a shot, but he somehow managed to completely miss. Grace heard the paint spattering a nearby tree trunk and started to run. Ryan knew that moving out of cover into an open chase risked being led into an enemy trap, but he decided that chasing an unarmed opponent was too good an opportunity to give up.

Grace charged out on to open ground, with a vista of CHERUB campus’ main building half a kilometre away. As Grace vaulted a log, she caught the tip of her boot and fell flat on her face. Ryan quickly closed to within five metres and shot Grace as she lay on the ground.

‘Ryan’s got me!’ Grace shouted, hoping to alert her team mates to his location.

In the background Ryan heard the distinct clatter of paintball pellets.

‘Theo?’ he gasped.

He spun around and saw flashes moving through the branches in the direction he’d just come from. A paintball whizzed over his head and he dived for cover behind a tree trunk. Part of him wanted to charge out and help save Theo, but that would be suicidal until he had some idea of where everyone was shooting from.

After twenty seconds crouching, Ryan caught his friend Alfie’s emergence from the clearing with paint splattered across his helmet and arms raised in surrender. The clatter of paintball ammo was still going and Ryan began a cautious walk towards the noise.

He thought he was still at least twenty metres from the action when his friend Max darted out from between two trees. Ryan took aim from five metres and this time he made his first shot count.

Max was a pretty laid-back character and took being killed with good grace. ‘Nice shooting,’ he said. ‘Suppose I’d better go and run my punishment circuits.’

‘Is Theo still alive?’ Ryan asked.

But Theo came out of the trees and answered for himself. ‘Naturally,’ he said, wearing the cocky smile of someone who’d got one over on a bigger kid.

‘Any sign of Leon or Daniel?’ Ryan asked.

Max laughed. ‘Grace and Ning tied them up and we dealt with them as soon as we found our first gun.’

‘So that just leaves Ning alive on the other team,’ Theo said, as he gave his brother a wary smile. ‘Two against one, in our favour.’

8. PREDATOR

A secure training centre is as hard to break out of as an adult prison, but in most other respects Idris was far less strict. Guards were known by their first names. Wendy, the head of Fay’s wing, sat at a desk with the slogan Every Child Matters painted on the wall behind.

‘Well, Fay, what have you got to say for yourself?’

Fay sat across the desk from the uniformed officer and pursed her lips like she was about to say something important. But she didn’t.

‘A new inmate. Physically small, facing a difficult period of adjustment. You march into the laundry room. You assault her room-mate, Chloe, then you assault Izzy and drag her back to her cell demanding money with menaces.’

Fay shrugged. ‘If you say so.’

‘I can understand why some girls in here lash out. They have emotional problems. They have eating disorders, substance problems or a history of abuse. Many of them have basic educational difficulties. But you’re an exceptionally bright young lady. You should do well in your GCSEs. You’re athletic. The only reason you won’t get into a good university is if you let yourself down.’

Fay cleared her throat. ‘When I was ten years old, I came back from the shop and found my mum hacked to pieces by a drug dealer. Last year my aunt Kirsten got suffocated in prison while she was awaiting trial. Murdered by another drug dealer. Those were the only two people I cared about. And the only two people who’ve ever cared about me.’

‘People here care,’ Wendy said.

Fay snorted. ‘You’ll be glad to see the back of me.’

‘Fay, you’ve discussed this in group counselling – at least until you refused to attend any more sessions. We’ve given you techniques for dealing with your past and coping with strong emotions.’

Fay laughed. ‘I stopped going because therapy is all bullshit. My aunt Kirsten is the only one who understood.’

‘Understood what?’

‘That I like it.’

‘Like what?’

‘I like the life,’ Fay said, finally raising her voice above a dull monotone. ‘The shiver that