Free Cherub Black Friday by Robert Muchamore Page B

gasped as a wet thud sounded in his ear.
    ‘Christ,’ Kazakov moaned.
    The only light came from headlamps and through two little windows down the side of the mobile home. Kazakov had been knocked down and was slumped outside the car with blood pumping out of a huge wound in his shoulder.
    Ryan reached across and tried pulling Kazakov in, but he was much too heavy and Kazakov batted the arm away.
    ‘Get the message out,’ Kazakov screamed, as he rolled on to the dirt and gave the passenger door a kick to close it. ‘I’ll cover you.’
    Ryan hated leaving Kazakov, but another bullet slammed the car and a guy with a pistol was running from the other direction. He floored the gas pedal and swung the steering wheel full right. Kazakov was flat on the ground taking shots at the men coming towards him as Ryan accelerated. A terrorist smashed into the bonnet as he steered on to the path towards the ranch’s main gate.
     
    James struggled to get back to sleep after being disturbed by Amy’s phone, and Bruce struggled because James kept getting up to use the toilet, or run a glass of water. Just after 5 a.m., rain started pelting the windows and James peeked behind the roller blind next to his bed.
    ‘They need to drive in the dark, in the rain and when they’re tired,’ James reasoned. ‘Seeing as conditions are ideal and we can’t get back to sleep, what say we go disturb our little driving students?’
    Bruce grunted. ‘I’d sleep fine if you shut up. Have you even got their room numbers?’
    ‘No, but I can look ’em up,’ James said. ‘Plus it’s Friday. And I’m thinking if we start early, we can finish early then cab it into town for a night of action.’
    ‘I’ve heard worse ideas,’ Bruce said. ‘We are supposed to take them out in the wet if we can and I’m never getting back to sleep with you fidget-arsing.’
    Ten minutes later, James and Bruce were dressed and heading up in the lift. Bruce got out on six to grab Ning, Alfie and Grace, while James went to the seventh floor for Leon.
    When he’d taken the short-term instructor job, James promised himself that he’d be a decent instructor like Mr Pike or Kazakov, not one of the mean ones like Miss Speaks, or former head instructor Norman Large, who’d got more enjoyment out of making trainees suffer than he should have and ended up being sacked. But on the other hand, James couldn’t resist the idea of charging into some poor trainee’s room and scaring the hell out of them.
    ‘Rise and shine!’ James shouted, as he booted the door of room 707, flipped on the light switch and whipped a Manchester City duvet off the bed.
    The kid looked suitably horrified as he shielded his eyes. ‘Who the hell are you?’ he shouted.
    ‘You’ve got ten minutes, Leon,’ James said. ‘Get your rear in gear! Put some clothes on. Grab something to eat in the van on the way to the track.’
    The kid looked furious. ‘I’m not Leon.’
    ‘Don’t piss me about,’ James said.
    ‘We’re identical twins,’ Daniel Sharma shouted. To prove his point he picked a framed photo off the bedside shelf and waggled it in the air. It showed Ryan in the middle holding youngest brother Theo, with Leon and Daniel standing on either side pulling stupid faces.
    ‘Ahh,’ James said sheepishly. ‘I looked up Sharma on the system and this room came up. I didn’t realise there were four of you.’
    Daniel pointed along the hallway. ‘You’ll find my brother two doors along.’
    James charged down the hallway and hit room 711 shouting, ‘Right, Sharma!’
    There was a piercing scream as a fifteen-year-old girl pulled her duvet up around her neck.
    ‘Jesus Harold Christ!’ the girl yelled. ‘Haven’t you heard of knocking?’
    ‘Shit! I’m sorry,’ James said, backing out into the corridor where Daniel Sharma stood grinning at him.
    ‘Oops,’ Daniel said, unable to hide his smirk. ‘Did I say my brother was two doors that way? I meant two doors the other