Num8ers - By Rachel Ward Page 0,46

followed where he was looking, back the way we’d come. “How long do you think we’ve got? Before they catch up with us?”

“Dunno. I can’t hear the helicopter anymore.” We stood there for a bit, both straining to pick up the heavy, choppy drone. Maybe it was just the wind getting up, drowning it out, but the noise didn’t seem to be there anymore. I started shivering, and Spider put his arm across my shoulder.

“Come on. We’d better find the best place to hide. We need to get somewhere in the back, right behind that hay.”

Again, faced with something to do, Spider launched himself into it. Talk about bloody Action Man — he was throwing bales around, piling them up, shouting instructions at me. He was making a sort of tunnel; one minute he’d disappear, crawling on his hands and knees, the next he’d come backing out lugging another bale. Then he came out frontways, a big stupid grin on his face.

“Here, get in.” I must have made a face, because he said, “It’s alright. Come on, or I’ll come out and drag you in.”

I got down on my hands and knees, peered inside, and then started to crawl in. It hurt when I put my hand flat on the floor, so I just leaned on the fingertips of my right hand and shuffled through as best I could. It was pretty dark inside, but not completely black, and the tunnel wasn’t that long. After about fifteen or so feet it opened out into a little room, or really a cave. There was just enough room for me and Spider to sit side by side. I couldn’t see him too well, but I could smell him. The exertion of lugging the bales around, after walking for hours, and the fact that he hadn’t washed since God knows when — apart from a dunk in a river thick with mud — had increased the strength of his normal staleness to Olympic proportions.

“What do you think? Cool, isn’t it? All we need to do is pull a bale across the entrance behind us and we’re sitting pretty. Shall I go and do it now, see how easy it is?”

The thought of being sealed in there with him was too much. I lurched toward the tunnel again. “No, it’s alright. We can do that later, if we need to.” Emerging back into the barn, I breathed in deeply. Even the stench of the cow shit was better than Spider’s rankness.

Spider crawled out of the tunnel, looking like a dog with two dicks. I didn’t mean to burst his bubble, but my hand was hurting, and I was tired and scared. I suppose I just said what was in my head, without stopping to think about it first.

“Spider, if they do find us here, we’re stuffed, aren’t we?”

His face changed instantly, like someone had switched off the light. And I hated myself for doing that to him.

“Yeah, Jem. If they find us here, we’re cornered. We’ll be like rats in a barrel.” He got to his feet and came and sat on a bale next to me. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs, head down. His voice was low, intense. “I won’t go quietly, Jem. I’ll fight them, Jem. I will.” I knew he had a knife with him. The way he was talking now, I was pretty sure he’d use it.

I could feel anxiety shooting through my veins. “It’s not worth it, Spider. If they really corner us, we should give up. What have they got on us, after all? We didn’t do nothing at the Eye. They can’t pin that on us. You’ve nicked some money, but I doubt anyone’s reported that. We nicked a couple of cars. Big deal. If you start fighting — cut one of them — that’s different. They’ll throw the book at you.”

“Jem, whatever happens, they’ll lock me up. You might be OK — you didn’t nick the cars, did you? There’s that knife thing at school, but a little white girl like you, Karen and Social Services on your side, no priors, they’ll go easy on you. But they’ll take one look at me — think about it. I check all the boxes, typical juvenile offender. They won’t think twice, just chuck me inside for a few months, a year. Lost in the system.” He rubbed his hands through his hair. “I can’t do it, Jem. I don’t wanna be locked up. I