The scene behind us is one of utter chaos. Prisoners are cowering as the slavers attempt to whip them into submission. Other robed men are running around on fire, screaming, trying to fan out the flames. More still lie dead on the ground, their limbs twisted and jutting out at painful angles. There’s thick smoke everywhere, obscuring my vision. Then, through the smoke, a figure emerges.

Despite being fully robed, I recognize him straightaway as the man who’d first spoken to us in the prison cell. He’s standing at the front of a group of slavers, leading them to battle. A red mist descends over my vision. I rev the bike, brandish the crowbar in my hand, and race toward him. I swing the crowbar back and, as I pass, bring it down with all my strength. I hear the crack of his skull, see him fall, dead, to the ground, and a sick satisfaction washes over me.

I loop back and see that Molly and the others have managed to get hold of bikes. As much as I wish we could liberate all the prisoners here, I have to be selfish and look after my own. I drive up to my group.

“Bree, get on the back,” I say to my sister, who is cuddling Penelope in her arms. “Molly, you take Charlie and Jack. Ryan, Ben, take a bike each. We’ll need the spare spaces for Zeke and Stephan once we find them. Come on, let’s go.”

Everyone gets into position and I lead the way through the compound, racing past burning structures and groups of slavers and prisoners, trying to find Zeke and Stephan amongst them. But they’re nowhere to be seen.

“We have to get out of here!” Molly cries from behind.

“NO!” I shout back. “We need to find Zeke and Stephan first.”

“There’s no time,” she barks.

She’s right. The slavers have noticed our little gang and they’re starting to follow. But the thought of leaving my friends behind makes my blood run cold.

“We can’t leave them!” I scream. “We have to rescue them.”

Molly locks her eyes with mine. “We can’t rescue them, Brooke. They’re not here. They’re dead.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

We’re still tearing along the road on the bikes, but it feels like the ground has fallen away beneath my feet. I can hardly breathe.

“I’m sorry,” Molly cries over the wind as we race across the parched earth. “They didn’t survive the crash. We have to go.”

Stephan and Zeke are dead? I can’t believe it. I don’t want to believe it.