All at once, there’s an almighty noise of screeching metal. Everyone freezes as one of the train carriages ahead of us appears to start moving. It rocks side to side, light glittering off the metal, and in the darkness, I can see movement coming from under it. Like a swarm of ants under an overturned log, crazies start crawling out of the train carriage.

I don’t have any time to think. I start to fire straightaway. Ryan takes up his firearm, his gunshots joining the cacophony of noise. Beside me, Ben and Molly start shooting too.

The crazies surge forward, charging at the closest target: Zeke.

“Run!” Molly shouts.

We run, jumping over bits of blown-up train carriage, dashing across the yard. The only place that offers any kind of protection in the near vicinity is the station house, and that means racing round the perimeter of the yard in a full circle. It’s impossible to go straight ahead because that’s where the mass is coming from.

Without question, everyone follows me.

“Don’t look back!” I shout.

Then I hear a scream, one that makes my bones turn to ice. It’s Bree.

I don’t even stop to think. I turn on the spot.

“Brooke! What are you doing?” Molly cries, coming up to me, trying to shove me on.

But it’s no use. I barge past her easily and run back to where Bree is right at the back of the group. The crazies are so close to her they’re barely an arm’s length away.

Like a relay race runner preparing to receive the baton, I stretch my hand back for her and get in a stance ready to run. She sees me and stretches her hand forward. The second her fingers make contact with me, I yank her forward, pulling her with me. We pelt across the yard, heading for the station house where the others have already made it.

“Run! Brooke, run!” they’re all screaming from the door.

I can hear the sound of hundreds of crazies’ footsteps pounding after me. There’s so many of them I can smell their odor, feel the heat coming from their skin. Bree stumbles as she runs beside me, but I won’t let her fall.

We’re almost there. Fifteen feet. Ten feet. Five feet.

Then we catapult in through the open door and collapse onto the ground. Ben slams the door shut behind us, locking it with bolts. We hear the sound of the crazies as they blast into the side of the building, thudding one after the other.