‘Come on,’ Maya begged. ‘This is mental!’

‘What about the cops?’ Georgia warned.

‘Fifty cops and millions of us,’ Sam said exuberantly. ‘They’re way more scared than we are.’

Rolf, Gerard and a bunch of kids from school charged past and Georgia didn’t want to be a stick-in-the-mud.

As she entered the town-hall atrium, it was total chaos. People were pulling pictures off the wall, yobs had lobbed a bust of Winston Churchill through a stained-glass window, fire extinguishers were being blasted and telephones ripped out of the wall behind the reception desk.

‘Anarchy,’ Sam was shouting, flailing skinny arms wildly, as the fire alarm went off. ‘Kill all humans!’

Maya had vanished, so Georgia followed Sam up thickly carpeted stairs, more accustomed to brides posing for wedding photos. The floor crunched with broken glass as they cut into a long hallway. One office already had its door kicked in, and some thugs were running off with laptops and toner cartridges.

Sam grabbed a tall metal trash can and used the end to punch through the glass panel in a door.

‘Christ,’ Georgia said, shielding her eyes as glass splinters flew past.

But she loved the crazy freedom of it. She grabbed a bin and laughed wildly as she rammed it through the glass in another door. Then Georgia and Sam charged down the long hallway, yelling and kicking doors.

‘Anarchy!’ Sam shouted.

‘No cuts, no budget!’ Georgia added happily, as she pounded every door.

They had to halt at the far end. The hallway was blocked by two Asian guys wheeling a giant photocopier towards a staircase. There were laughs and gasps as the huge machine tilted and smashed down the stairs. Women coming the other way squealed in fright as the photocopier bouldered past and ripped open a set of double doors.

The doors led into the upper gallery of the council meeting chamber. The councillors had long vanished, but cameramen and journalists who’d come to cover a budget meeting had stuck around, recording chaos, as dozens of protestors threw seats out of windows, ripped light fixtures off the walls, tipped over the main council meeting table and sprayed graffiti.

‘It’s a war zone down there,’ Georgia blurted.

‘Riot cops are storming in from the front,’ someone shouted.

Waves of people began flooding the upper gallery. There was no direct route from the gallery to the chamber below. Georgia looked down warily as protestors grabbed hold of a polished brass rail, then dangled and dropped it into the chamber below.

It was a six-metre drop. Georgia didn’t fancy it, especially onto floor covered in broken glass and upturned chairs. But she didn’t fancy getting Tasered by the riot squad either.

‘We’ve got to,’ Sam said firmly, yanking her arm.

The camera crews and journalists decided not to stick around as riot cops came down the stairs at the end of the hallway, drumming the backs of their shields.