“Ambulance!” Jem called. “Is anyone there?” She counted to ten and then lowered the flap and shrugged at Rosie. She was unhooking her radio from her belt when a sharp bang made them both jump.

“Whoa!” Rosie said. “Where the hell did that come from?”

“I’m not sure.” Jem reopened the letterbox. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

Another bang prompted them to look down, and they scoured the undergrowth with their torches.

“Cellar,” Rosie said, circling the lowest point of the wall with her light. Before Jem could voice a caution, Rosie was off the steps and tearing at the weeds, clearing a space large enough to reveal a tiny barred window. She tapped the pane and then gasped, falling onto her arse as something hit the glass from the inside. “Jesus wept!” She redirected the torch she’d dropped, but nothing else appeared. With one hand splayed across her heart, she flopped back, her legs outstretched. Her breath misted in front of her as she panted. “The little bastard. That’s taken years off my life, that has.”

Jem giggled nervously and jumped down to help Rosie brush wet grass from her trousers. “Can we get in anywhere?” she asked.

Despite the rust coating the bars, they held firm when Rosie shook them. “I’ll have a scoot around the back. If there’s no access, I’ll call up for an enforcer ram. Are you all right here for a minute?”

“Yep.” Jem pulled a piece of dandelion from Rosie’s hair. “How’s your ticker?”

“Still going like the clappers. I won’t be long.”

Jem gave her a few seconds to scramble clear and then returned to the letterbox. “Okay, love, we saw you there. Bang once for yes and twice for no. Can you get to the front door?”

Her skin prickled as a rapid couple of thumps sounded.

“Are you hurt?”

A single thump.

“Are you on your own?”

A pause, followed by two thumps.

“How many are there of you?”

Two deliberate thumps.

Jem nodded, somewhat reassured by that. “Hold on, we’re getting help. Try not to be scared.”

That earned her a frantic series of bangs. She closed the flap and voiced Ryan. “This isn’t a hoax,” she said. “I’m with a police officer, and we’re going to force entry. I’ll need a bus. We have a person injured, condition unknown, but they’re conscious and breathing.”

“Aw, hell,” he said, and she knew what was coming. “I’ve got nothing at the moment. There’s six crews stuck on the corridor at West Penn.”

“No worries. Just bear us in mind.” There was no point stressing him out if they were going to have to wait for police backup regardless.