The sewer exited into a fast-running stream. When there were floods, it reached fifteen metres deep, engulfing the car park and flooding shops at the south end of Designer Outlets. But for now, it was ten paces wide and only came up to Robin’s belly.
Marion waded quickly upstream where there was no sewage, still coughing and spitting. Robin fulfilled Marion’s prediction that he’d throw up. Then he rested his bow and phone on some rocks, dunking his head and swimming a couple of metres underwater, before bobbing up and flicking hair off his face.
He’d have liked time to scrub, but Marion was worried about the noise from when she’d opened the grate and set a fast pace along the riverbank in her squelching boots. It wasn’t a cold night, but Robin’s clothes were soaked, and he tucked his hands in his armpits to keep the shivers under control.
‘We’ll walk a couple of kilometres upstream,’ Marion told him. ‘Nobody settles in this part of the forest, because everything gets flooded at least twice a year. It’s also beautiful in the daytime, with rock pools and waterfalls.’
‘You really know the forest,’ Robin said admiringly. Then asked something that had been bugging him. ‘So, you don’t go to school?’
‘I did until I was nine,’ Marion said, keeping her voice low. ‘But Sheriff Marjorie and her pals in central government changed the rules. Last time she ran for re-election, she got heaps of votes by saying Sherwood was full of immigrants who take everyone’s jobs, fill up the schools and never pay taxes. Now you can only attend school if you have a proper address and have a parent who pays tax.’
‘My dad went to a big demo in Nottingham when the government brought those rules in,’ Robin said. ‘And isn’t there other stuff now, like Forest People can’t apply for driving licences?’
‘Or register to vote,’ Marion added. ‘We can’t legally get married, open a bank account, or even go to hospital unless we are literally about to drop dead. Will wants to set up a school inside Designer Outlets, but everything costs and that guy is already killing himself, running the clinic and security, and looking after basic stuff like water and electricity.’
‘Don’t you get bored with no school?’ Robin asked, as they reached a spot where the stream was blocked by the root mound of a huge toppled tree, forcing them to wade out into knee-deep water.
Marion shook her head and laughed like that was the dumbest question ever. ‘I roam the forest with Freya trapping fish, and I do heaps of online courses. There are a few my mum makes me do – like Maths and Spanish – but I pick most of them myself.’
‘Nice,’ Robin said. ‘With no teacher cracking the whip, I’d probably dick about playing video games all day.’
‘Like my brother Matt,’ Marion said, laughing. ‘But I like learning if it’s stuff that interests me.’
‘Same,’ Robin agreed, as he skidded on a rock, but saved himself by grabbing a shrub. ‘I’ve got a shelf of books about archery and famous battles. And I’m kind of a computer geek.’
‘My theory is that everything they make you learn at school is deliberately boring and pointless,’ Marion explained. ‘Central government is trying to numb our brains and turn everyone into obedient worker bees for the capitalist system.’*
Robin nodded. ‘That would explain most of the useless rubbish they teach.’
‘And teachers are total drama queens,’ Marion continued.
Robin nodded in agreement. ‘Like, if you don’t pass this test on Tudor history, YOU WILL DIE!’
Robin thought Marion’s take on the education system was brilliant and couldn’t stop laughing.
‘I know I’m witty and delightful,’ Marion said, giving Robin a whack on the arm. ‘But there are bad guys after us, so keep the volume down!’
Robin had to put the back of his hand over his mouth to stop snickering, but he’d calmed down when Marion cut away from the river bank and pushed through bushes to higher ground. They stopped on a bracken-covered spot, still close enough to hear the fast-flowing stream.
‘This should do us till daybreak,’ she said.
She sat down, then groaned as she rubbed the back of her weaker leg.
‘You OK?’ Robin asked.
Marion looked like she’d given up a dark secret. Instead of answering, she buried her head in the emergency escape bag, rummaging through packs of peanut cookies, inflatable pillows and metallic space blankets.
‘I know I’m little but I’m strong,’ Robin persisted. ‘If you’d said your leg was hurting I would have carried your bag.’
‘Drop it,’ Marion said. ‘It’s all good.’
Robin worried that he’d pricked the mood, but Marion seemed OK as they drank some water and shared a little pack of dried apricots. Robin blew up the pillows as Marion spread a surprisingly huge space blanket over the ground, then opened one each to sleep under.
Lying in darkness made the forest feel infinite, with clicking insects and wind sweeping the leaves. They were both soggy and knackered, but couldn’t switch off after so much excitement and lay awake for ages talking about random stuff.
The space blankets crackled as they snuggled closer together, and although this was the most precarious place Robin had ever slept in, he felt safe propped against Marion and thought it was cool when she half nodded off and unconsciously threw an arm around his shoulder.