Been an hour we sat here waiting for Manleb to come back. Maybe more. Night won’t last forever. I finally stopped shivering. Lost my shoes back in the river. Jenny took them. Found lots of loot the evicted family left behind, but no shoes.

Chips sits with a pair of knickers on his head, smoking a real fag. I think he’s the youngest. Maybe nine winters on him. He looks sick now. Bags under his eyes. Deep yellow under his cheeks. Breathing shallow. Moving slower. Still grinning.

We found chips in the back of a chip shop. Was a slave. Three years back. Found him dragging a sack of rubbish out back. Manleb threw a molly in the back door of the chippy. Burned the place down. We all sat on a roof and watched. Chips laughed so much he was sick. Me and Manleb, we taught him to swim.

Nikair been with Manleb before me. He think’s he’s full Chinese. Not 100% sure though. Raised by his nan. Used to sit by her all day while she worked, fixing dead tech. Then she just dropped dead. The Guvnors took over her flat. Offered him slave work but he said no thank you sir and just left. We found him near dead, starved. Lying outside a shop full of retro creps, hand on the window. Now he paints little white swooshes on all his gear.

Mud we found in the river mud. All on his own, mudlarking for scrap. Was with another crew of rats before us. Some of them grew up and joined the gangs. Some of them got snatched up by god knows who. He’s a top mudlarker. Can find treasure in the worst places. No memory of where he comes from at all. Probably because they all drank nasty moonshine in his old crew, brain rot. Keeps you warm when you are neck deep in river mud. Manleb never lets us drink too much.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Why am I going over all this tonight blankie? You know. I know. Can’t speak it out loud even to myself. Am I saying goodbye to my boys? Am I saying goodbye to myself? I can hear the same old seagulls. Feel the hum of the building. The sounds of Riverside beyond the car park below. Sound systems, arguments and random gunshots. A drone marked with the Republic of London logo flies past, gathering data for the gov.

Ninja thinks he’s a ninja. I smile to myself. Love watching him do his ‘training’. He’s doing a bit now.

But I have to do something.

Does the yellow sickness always kill? Why did we stop coughing? Does anyone know?

We’ll need cash. And we’ll need to hide this yellow skin. We need to make moves.

And I need to figure out what all this writing in my eyes means.

Can’t just wait for Manleb.

“Here what’s that?” I ask.

Chips has discovered something, going through the mummy’s bag. A little pouch with a zip. Full of strange things.

“Make-up! Face paints!” Chips giggles.

“Let’s play dressing up!” I suggest.

So I get to work with a pot of ‘foundation’.

We look like a right bunch. Use a whole pot of this stuff and now we all have the same colour face. Hoods up, rags round the mouth. Show only a bit of face, and we might pass.

And nobody mentions yellow sickness.