Albert shook his head, not really knowing what he was doing—only conscious of the taste of ash in his mouth and the heavy-laden weight of defeat in his stomach.

Marcus nodded, and tossed the blaster into the Pit.

And, at that moment, all hell broke loose. About twenty men stormed through the partition, levelling blasters at them, forcing Joe to the ground and then Albert, running as quickly as they could towards the rest, shouting at the top of their voices all the while.

‘Freeze!

‘Don’t move or we’ll fire!’

‘Don’t move!’

Marcus shifted, so that he was now right next to the shortest of the towering stalagmites.

‘Oh no, you don’t,’ said a man standing next to Albert, whipping up his weapon to fire.

‘No!’ shouted Albert, and without quite knowing how or why, he pushed at the man, jerking his arm aside, and sent him tumbling into the Pit with a scream.

Two shots whizzed past Marcus, ricocheting off the wall, then another. All around them men ducked for cover—even as they stared, goggle-eyed, some shaking their heads in disbelief, others muttering curses—as Marcus jumped from one stalagmite to another, smoothly and easily as if he was skirting puddles, so quickly, so deftly that his feet hardly seemed to touch down at all, until he was standing on the narrow tip of rock on the top of the wall.

Something thudded into the side of Albert’s head, knocking him to his knees. Gasping, ignoring the burning pain in his head, and the now-familiar trickling feeling of blood running down his face, he looked up, to where Marcus stood on the top of the wall, silhouetted against the faint glow emerging out of the gloom. He was looking at Albert, and there was a strange expression in his eyes.

‘I didn’t ask you to come,’ he said, and shook his head.

Then he jumped out into the night. More shots rang out and, with many curses and exclamations, several men ran to the wall, scrambling at it, failing to find a handhold anywhere.

Albert looked out over the edge of the wall, but he could see nothing but blackness—blackness with a faint glimmer far across to show where water still trickled down the now-invisible rock. He thought he saw a flash of movement in the darkness, far against the gently shimmering water on the rock, but it was too quick and slight to tell anything.

He looked around the room, where Colby, Kieran and Joe knelt, hands on their heads, angry-faced men standing over them with blasters. It was over. He felt a new, sharp pain in his temple, and discovered the cold steel of another blaster pressing against it.

‘Gimme a reason, bub,’ said a voice above his head, then the pain sharpened as the man holding it dug it into his head, viciously.