June hesitated for a moment, then ran, holding on to Theo’s hand. They raced past the man, through the opening, and Albert was almost past him too, when he felt a hand grab his ankle. He toppled over, kicking out with his other leg. He felt something squelch under his shoe, heard another blood-curdling scream as the man in front doubled up and fell over on to his side, hand releasing Albert to tend to the fresh damage to his nose.

Albert got to his feet, inches ahead of Squeaky and his friend, and realized that he couldn’t turn to enter the opening, they were too close. He raced past it down the corridor.

‘Get the girls!’ howled Squeaky, right behind him. From the corner of his eye, Albert saw the weaselly man dash into the tunnel behind June and Theo. Then he felt a hand brush his coat—almost but not quite managing to hold on, and then finding a grip, yanking him back. He wrenched his shoulder free and ran on, hearing the thud behind him as Squeaky slipped and fell with a curse, but he didn’t turn around. He raced forward, faster than he had ever thought he could, desperately, frantically looking left and right for an opening, for somewhere to run to, but there was nothing, nothing at all. And then he came to a smooth, brown earthen wall in front of him, so he had nowhere to go. The tunnel had reached a dead end, and so had he.

He turned around, as Squeaky ran down the corridor towards him, the man with the smashed nose hobbling behind him. He had lost his rod, and a lot of blood by the look of it—it was all over his face and clothes.

They stopped a few feet before they reached him. Squeaky held up his knife. ‘Nowhere to go, boy-o.’

‘Lemme at ’im!’ snarled Smashed Nose and started forward only for Squeaky to hold out an arm and stop him.

‘Wait! ’E’s cost us a lot, this one ’as, ’specially if them chicks get away.’

‘So? I’m gonna off ’im now!

The other man shook his head—a strange, happy and somehow bone-chillingly frightening look settling across his face. Albert looked at the two of them—dirty, ragged, smelling of filth, revelling in his helplessness—and, through the fear rising up in his throat, he felt a wave of revulsion mixed with a generous dose of anger. That men could be like this!

‘All right,’ he said defiantly, looking straight at Squeaky. ‘Get it over with!’

The man giggled, sounding like a little girl. ‘Oh no, chum! Not so quick! First, we make you cry like a baby! That’s where the fun is!’