The Pickpocket

Chapter 12 - New Friends, New Foes

I walked straight ahead, keeping a hand on the pieces of watch in my pocket. Rex trotted obediently by my side, stopping every now and again to sniff at something.

“Are you Private Hatchett, senior?” a voice asked. I looked around before realising that it had come from below my normal line of sight. Crouching down, I was confronted by a small child with a clipboard. What is it with people around here and clipboards? I wondered.

“Yes,” I replied. The child was tapping a foot impatiently.

“Good,” she replied, ticking my name off with a violent swipe, “because you’re late. Did Walky hold you up?”

“Who?”

“Average height, friendly face, close-cropped brown hair going silver at the temples, near-immaculate uniform…” The girl tilted her head. “You did come here in a truck, didn’t you?”

“Yes. How else was I gonna get here, walk fifty or so miles in an hour?” The girl frowned at me before turning away and walking down a small gap between two stalls.

“Follow me,” she said. I whistled for Rex and followed her. Its lucky I’m smaller than the average height and width for a man or I would’ve got stuck - and I mean really, really badly stuck. The child only just managed to get through, as it was.

“So, Private,” another voice said almost immediately as I crawled out from the tunnel-thing, “you’re working with the dogs, eh? Well, you just went through the dog entrance. Louisa likes it when the new ones get stuck. But you didn’t.” A face that was partially covered in wrinkles suddenly appeared before mine. I blinked and slowly leant backwards. The face followed me.

“You’re the human equivalent of a puppy at the moment,” the face said, “so we need to train you up. Your dog will be looked after correctly whilst you are trained. We have a motto here,” the face came closer, “that we train the humans before the animals. Everyone here came with us in the animal department, so we know that they can be relied on. But you?” The face vanished and I felt a tugging on my ear, forcing me to stand. “You’re new. We know nothing about you.” Different faces suddenly surrounded me, jeering and laughing as my face scrunched up with the pain of having my ear nearly pulled off. I was let go and I stumbled forwards. The crowd pushed me back. It reminded me of fights when I was at school. If you tried to leave the circle, the crowd would push you back in. That made me feel very nervous so I spun to face my opponent. Normally, I’d get hit in the face or back then. But instead the circle went silent. My opponent was smiling, and it was a cruel smile. I gulped quietly.

“So you have to face the test,” the old man said, so softly that I nearly missed it. The crowd started laughing again.

 

*

 

“New kid. New kid. Hatchett, or whatever your name is. New kid. Sir, what’s his name?”

“I have no idea, Owen. Does he have any labels or anything?”

“I’ll check his pockets.” I heard material rustle but felt nothing. They must’ve taken my coat off, I thought sluggishly.

“Ah, here we are,” Owen said. “There’s a card. ‘Jamie Hatchett, actor and trained pickpocket.’ Blimey, he’s clever, ain’t he?”

“Isn’t, Owen, not ain’t. I’ve never met a pickpocket before.” I blinked and opened my eyes slowly. Two faces swam into view. One had a cheeky grin on it, topped with a mess of dark brown-black hair and the other had a kind smile and silver-grey hair. One was Owen, the other someone I didn’t recognise.

“Uh…” I said, “why are you looming over me like two very odd vampires?”

“To see whether you’re dead or not,” the man-who-wasn’t-Owen replied. As soon as he realised what he’d said he clapped a hand over his mouth, horror and laughter in his eyes. Owen was laughing and I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh.

“That probably wasn’t the best thing to say,” the man said at last. I propped myself upright using my elbows and looked at the man properly. He was a lot taller than me (who wasn’t?) and he seemed to be about Dad’s age but with grey(er) hair. He had a reassuring smile and his green eyes twinkled mischieviously. He held out a hand as soon as I was balanced enough to stay upright without falling over.

“Major Carter,” he said. I took his hand and shook it.

“Private Hatchett junior, interesting animals unit.” I raised an eyebrow at Carter and he narrowed his eyes, still smiling.

“I’m in the ‘interesting animals’ unit too, but you didn’t need to point out the fact that I forget to mention it, Private Hatchett - or can I call you Jamie?” he replied. I shrugged and lay back. By now I’d worked out that I was lying on my bed and my coat and boots were on a chair next to me. Nicci was asleep (again) and Naumann and Sergeant Walker were nowhere to be seen. I felt oddly relieved.

“I don’t trust those two,” I said out loud. Owen and Carter looked at me in surprise. “Y’know, Naumann and Sergeant Walker.”

“Call him Walky,” Carter said, “we all do. It annoys him loads, but none of us like him.”

“Sir!” Owen said, shocked yet smiling mischievously, “you can’t talk about Walky like that! I mean, sure, you’re his senior, but still…”

“Owen, I don’t care.” Carter turned back to me and smiled. He raised an eyebrow and he and Owen pulled me to my feet.

“Did Walky put you through the test?” Carter asked once I was standing. I shook my head, putting on my boots.

“Well, you’re about to go through it. Don’t bother with your coat,” Owen added as I went to pick it up. Slightly worried, I followed the soldiers outside.

 

*

 

I followed the old man to what looked like an assault course. It stretched for what looked like miles, full of things to climb over and wriggle under. And there was a lot of mud. I ran a hand through my hair nervously. Normally I don’t mind getting a bit mucky (it happens when you’re a hitman; all that blood, y’know?) but mud? The very thought of it makes me shudder.

I could see someone else being led towards the course in the distance. They had a soldier on either side, one of them young and talking ten to the dozen, the other old but smiling. I glanced around at the jeering crowd and wished that I was with the two soldiers and my rival.

“Thomas!” the older soldier cried when he came closer. I could see that he was a Major and that he was my only chance of rescue. I sank slowly to the floor (acting, of course).

“What have you done to this poor chap?” the Major continued. The old man, Thomas, said nothing but kicked me to try and force me up. I curled into a little ball and refused to move, keeping my head close to the ground but my hair out of the way.

“Major Carter, this man is obviously faking,” a voice drawled. My eyebrows shot up. Jamie?I thought.

“How do you know, Jamie?” the Major replied. I could almost hear Jamie grin.

“Why, he’s keeping his hair off of the floor. If he were really hurt, he’d have his head and hair pressed to the floor instead of angling it so that his forehead touches the floor.” Jamie paused and I felt the ground vibrate through my forehead. “And if he were hurt, he wouldn’t react if I do this…” Jamie tailed off and I stiffened. Then I felt his hands either side of my neck, on my shoulders, causing my to squeal and shoot my shoulders up. Jamie was laughing until I tickled him back. There was mud in my hair and all over my uniform, I’d just made a prat of myself in front of everyone who was anyone around here, and I now had to face a stupid test.

“Life ain’t goin’ well,” I muttered to myself. “It really ain’t.”