Henderson's Boys #04 - Grey Wolves by Robert Muchamore

Author:Robert Muchamore [Muchamore, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Kindle
ISBN: 9781444914054
Publisher: Hachette Children's Books
Published: 2012-09-12T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

After being stitched, PT managed to stand long enough to get on to Marc’s bed. While he dozed Henderson scrubbed the landing floor and the wallpaper on the staircase. He thought about venturing out with a torch to look for Marc, but it seemed certain he’d been picked up by the Germans. What other explanation was there?

Henderson couldn’t get Marc out of his mind as he sat hunched over the little dining table, watching PT’s troubled sleep. He was used to dealing with complex situations, used to people getting hurt and killed in his line of work, but it was different with Marc.

Henderson had often heard the other kids teasing Marc, calling him Henderson’s pet, but he’d never admitted this favouritism to himself until now. The fact was, he saw a younger version of himself in Marc and cared about him more than anyone except his newborn son. Henderson found this truth uncomfortable. If he favoured Marc, did that mean all the other kids resented him for it? Did it make him look weak? And had it caused him to make bad decisions?

Curfew ended at sunrise. At the first chink of light Henderson went down with a bucket of water. He wiped bloody finger marks from around the keyhole in the front door and was impressed that PT had managed to pick the lock while on the verge of passing out. He poured the water over the doorstep and used a stiff broom to wipe dots of dried blood from the doorstep.

‘You’re cleaning up,’ a woman said frostily. ‘To what do we owe this miracle?’

Henderson turned back down the hallway and saw the two elderly sisters who lived on the ground floor. They worked as cleaners in one of Madame Mercier’s bars.

‘Good morning, my dears,’ Henderson said mockingly. ‘Absolutely lovely to see you again.’

As the two women stepped out he considered warning them about what had happened the night before, but didn’t feel the miserable old bats deserved it. Once they were out of sight, he strolled along to the back door of Mamba Noir and checked for any sign of a struggle. The exit had been unlocked by kitchen staff but he didn’t bother going inside.

Back in the apartment, PT had sat himself up. He looked white and his voice wavered, but at least he was conscious.

‘Morning,’ Henderson said, keeping deliberately upbeat. ‘How’s our wounded soldier?’

‘Shaking like a leaf,’ PT said.

‘Hungry?’

‘I’ll try something,’ PT answered warily. ‘God knows if it’ll stay down.’

Henderson usually relied on Mamba Noir leftovers for breakfast, but he made some coffee, found some stale bread and cut the last few pieces off a small joint of ham.

‘You’ve lost a pint of blood, maybe two,’ Henderson said as PT sat on the edge of Marc’s bed, biting the end off a piece of ham. ‘You could do with a transfusion, but I daren’t take you near a hospital.’

‘Is that serious?’ PT asked.

‘You’re young and fit. You’ll survive, provided we keep infection out of that wound. Your blood pressure will be very low, so you’re going to feel weak for some time.

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