1: C_
The metal frame of the bed shook with the impact of George crashing painfully into it. He rolled to his right and avoided a punch that would otherwise have impacted with his nose. The momentum of the roll meant he could get back to his feet, and he used his momentary advantage to run for the door. Before he could get it open, his opponent slammed it shut and pushed George away. George dropped back into a fighting stance, dodging a kick before landing a block and managing to press forwards, his kick connecting and his opponent slamming into the door before sliding down it into a sitting position. The battle won, George launched an all-out kick into the head area, but pulled back a few inches short.
"Hit my head on the door," Rex complained, accepting George's hand up. "You could've not pushed me back so hard."
"Sorry," George replied insincerely. Rex was a sore loser and bitter experience had told George that the only way he would ever be friends with you was if you just swallowed your pride every once in a while. In this case, though, George was happy to apologise because, for the first time since they'd arrive on the Mediterranean island of C_, he'd actually managed to beat Rex in a tussle.
The two boys were sharing a room and once the lights were out they often ended up in an impromptu wrestling bout, but they sometimes turned violent and George was pleased to have won this one. Usually he ended up pinned to his bed with Rex laying into his arm or leg to get him to submit, and all of the karate training that Rex had been doing during his suspension from missions for destroying a girl's room was paying off.
"I'm going to bed," Rex grumbled, finding his lost t-shirt somewhere on the floor and pulling it on before climbing into his bed, sounding put-out.
George didn't reply, but once he got back into bed he noticed that his pillows were missing.
"Where did my pillows end up?" he asked, looking under the blanket without any luck.
"Don't know, don't care," Rex replied, but the tone of his voice suggested he knew full well.
"Give them back," George demanded, jumping to his feet. "I can't sleep without them."
"How is that my problem? They're probably on the floor somewhere, or in the toilet," Rex said, holding back a laugh.
George didn't want to think about the possibility of his pillows getting dipped in toilet water, so he tore Rex's pillows away from his head and ran back to his bed.
"Hey, get your own!" Rex said, getting out of bed and aiming a kick at George. It caught the back of his heel and George toppled onto the bed, getting a second encounter with the painful bed frame.
"You can have mine," George replied, fending Rex off with a rugby tackle. Both boys tumbled onto the floor and rolled over, each trying to get the upper hand. George had just got his arm wrapped around Rex's back and was pinning him awkwardly in the gap between the end of his bed and the wall when the door flew open and the light flicked on.
"Alright you two, enough is enough," the voice of Maira, a white-shirt who was an agent until recently and was helping out at the hostel before she went to university in October. "I've listened to you banging around on the floor and the walls for the past hour, if you two aren't in bed in ten seconds you'll be sorry."
White-shirts could give out punishments, so George and Rex did as she said, grabbing their scattered bedding and scuttling back to their respective beds. George still had Rex's pillows and he settled down with a grin.
"Miss, I've lost my pillows," Rex replied, looking sheepish.
"Where did you last see them?" Maira replied, sounding exasperated.
"I dunno, they might be under the bed."
"Well find them and put the light out when you do. If I hear another sound I will be back in here dishing out punishments."
The pillows weren't under the bed and Rex genuinely didn't seem to know where they were, so George offered to help look.
"You could help by looking for your own stupid pillows instead of making me do it," Rex said bitterly.
George retaliated by flinging one of his pillows at his friend, hitting him in the back of the head. "There you go, make do with one."
"Don't chuck it at me, then."
"I'm giving you one of my pillows, be grateful."
Rex gave George a giant slap on the back. George was under the sheet, but Rex's palm moved fast enough to sting and leave a red mark.
"What was that for?" George said, springing up again.
"For being a lazy sod," Rex shrugged.
George gave him a shove and he tripped backwards onto his bed. "I'm not the one who nicked the pillows in the first place."
"Yes you are, you took mine," Rex replied, kicking away George's ankle so he fell heavily onto the floor.
The kick hurt, so George tackled Rex again, twisting violently so that Rex would collapse on top of him. Unfortunately this gave Rex the upper hand, and George found his arm being twisted around painfully. He kicked out blindly and managed to catch Rex somehow, giving him the space to wriggle free. He grabbed hold of Rex's ankle and twisted, but not hard enough to cause anything more than discomfort.
The door flew open again.
"Right you two, get out here," Maira shouted, grabbing George's collar. Her nails tore straight through the worn material and she ended up dragging him by the elastic while he grabbed at his throat and flailed around. Maira was an ex-Cherub so she had the strength to pick up both ten-year-olds with ease, but she started by making George stand by the wall while she dragged Rex out by his arm.
"Stand opposite him," she said viciously. A few people were looking into the corridor from the other rooms, wondering what the commotion was, while George massaged his throat and tried to regain his breath and his dignity. The wrecked shirt was doing nothing for him, and he was covered in red marks from where Rex had been grabbing him.
Maira stood between them, hands on hips, giving them both the evil eye.
"You're gonna stand out here the rest of the night, and in the morning you're gonna go and tell the staff exactly why I had to drag you out of your room at one in the morning, right?" she growled, daring them to chat back.
"Yes Miss," George replied meekly.
"Good, now woe betide you if you make even another squeak," Maira finished, pounding a fist into her palm before storming back into her room.
The interest of the other Cherubs died down once Maira left, leaving George and Rex alone in the corridor. George's discipline record on campus was horrendous; he'd been involved in a number of incidents in his four months as a qualified agent, including a alcohol-selling scheme and a botched mission that ended with his head in a bin. He knew that this was a minor incident and that he'd probably get off with nothing worse than a telling-off and a few hours of punishment duty, but all the little things added up.
Nonetheless, he could see the funny side as he sat on the cold floor, looking at Rex who was sweaty with exertion and wondering whether CHERUB was going to reimburse him for his ruined t-shirt.
Croydon, South London
"Keep an eye out," the older boy said, giving Adam a smart smack on the ear. "I'm not risking my neck under here if you're staring into space."
Adam was annoyed that the older boys were treating him badly, but he said nothing. He stood by the bonnet of a flash-looking Mercedes, finished in black, and looked into the darkness. The street was well-lit by streetlight, but Adam kept his gaze on the driveways and front doors of the people living on the street.
The older boy, whose name was Tom, disappeared under the car and began pulling a few tools out of his jacket. A small but powerful torch illuminated the filthy underside of the Mercedes as he grabbed a spanner and began expertly loosening nuts.
"Hurry up," Adam hissed. It was warm enough for him to only be wearing a light jacket, but he still shoved his hands deep into his pockets.
"Shut up then," Tom replied, tutting.
Adam was mainly on the lookout for residents who would come out and bother them, but the street was dead silent at four in the morning and there weren't even any lights on in the windows.
"Alright, got it," Tom replied, sounding relieved. He appeared from under the car and tucked a lump of metal into his jacket. "Have you got the replacement?"
"Here," Adam said, reaching into a carrier bag and replacing a part which looked identical to the one Tom had removed, down to the coating of grime. Tom nodded and crawled back under the car.
Once Tom was back to grunting underneath the car, Adam spotted something out of the corner of his eye. He thought it was a person and his heart shot into his mouth, but a cat wandered lazily across the road a few moments later and he relaxed.
"What's taking the time?" Adam asked, starting to get anxious.
"The mother is too bloody small," Tom replied, his voice on edge. "I can't get the nuts on properly."
"Damien gave it to me, I swear," Adam replied, subconsciously rubbing his tongue through the gap that his missing tooth had left when it had fallen out the previous weekend.
"We're gonna have to swap the old one back on and explain this to Damien," Tom said, appearing from under the car. "There's gonna be hell to pay."
Adam held out the original part, but Tom's expression changed rapidly from irritation to fear. Before he could get the part he turned on his heel and set off at a sprint into the front garden of the nearest house. Adam spun around and spotted two uniformed police officers running up the road towards him, torches in hand.
"Stop!" one of them shouted, but Adam panicked. Tom had disappeared, so he dropped the metal part he was holding and ran in the opposite direction. He turned the corner into the next street, which seemed identical, but he didn't have the guts to climb into someone's garden or jump over a wall. There was a horrible clash of his desire to get away and his desire to behave himself like his teachers told him at school, but before he could decide an arm grabbed his collar.
"You're coming with us," the policeman said, shining his torch in Adam's face. "How old are you?"
"Eight," Adam said truthfully. When Damien had let him go with Tom, he'd said that if the police caught him he should tell the truth about his age and everything would be fine.
"Eight? God's sake, why aren't you in bed?" the policeman said, shaking his head. "Come on, let's take you home and have a word with your mum."
Adam had never been so scared before in his life. When the older boys had talked about getting picked up by the police, it sounded really cool and they wore it like a badge of honour, but now that it was happening to him he couldn't keep the tears in. His mum was going to kill him.